#anthony lockwood x y/n

[initialchains]

10 things i hate about you | anthony lockwood.

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: george karim falls in love with your sister, and the only thing standing between him and the love of his life is the fact that she isn’t allowed to date unless you do, too. luckily for him, anthony lockwood would do anything for a bit of publicity.

wc: 5.8k (part one)

a/n: hii i felt so bad for leaving you all hanging, but finals week left me extremely burnt out and tired. luckily, the lockwood brainrot is neverending, so as a way of saying sorry here’s the first part of this silly ol’ fic. (including the first five things to hate about lockwood.)  i’m also super sorry for the next part because it will be 90% angst lol ++ this is inspired by the movie but not completely based on it bc it’s my all time favorite film and i was scared of not doing it justice.

Lucy swore she was going to quit the agency again if George didn’t stop pacing around the kitchen like an idiot. She kept thinking of things to say to get him to stop, but a part of her also wanted to see how long this pathetic situation in front of her would take, she knew it wouldn’t be long until their researcher got tired of walking back and forth. And that’s where she is now. Sitting in the kitchen, an empty mug staring back at her, while George kept pacing in front of her and Lockwood.

“Hey, George! I have an idea. Why don’t you sit down and tell us what’s going on like a normal person, instead of just muttering I’m so fucked over and over?” 

George finally stopped and looked up at her. He stood still for a few seconds before taking a seat next to Lockwood.

“Well, I’m fucked.”

“Yeah, I think we heard that part.”

“Luce, stop,” Lockwood said in the softest voice he could muster, before turning to George. “Do you want to talk about it? Maybe we can help.”

George took a deep breath before starting. “So, you know how I’ve been telling you both and Holly about that one girl from the archives?”

Lockwood smiled at that. The thought of George crushing on a girl after bonding with her about their love for research is still one of the cutest things he has ever heard.

“Oh, right. How are things going with her? Is everything alright?” 

“Well, sort of. I mean, everything is alright, but just when I thought of finally making a move on her, she kind of, um… dropped a bomb on me?” 

“A bomb? But you already knew she’s a Fittes agent, that’s not new.” Lucy stated. 

“Yes, I know. And trust me, there’s nothing wrong with that.” George continued, “She is the sweetest, most intelligent, beautiful human being to have ever lived. I mean it.” 

Lucy and Lockwood shared a knowing look. George was totally a goner for this girl.

“Then.. just ask her out?” Lockwood suggested, watching carefully as George fidgeted with the thinking cloth, now too shy to look at his friends.

“That’s the problem, I can’t,” George explained, before pulling his glasses away and rubbing his eyes. The stress of the situation clearly getting the best of him.

“Okay, this will probably be a stupid question, but.. why?” Lucy asked, genuinely confused by the problem her friend was going through. Sure, asking someone out is frightening, but it’s not like George was about to fight a type two without any kind of protection.

George took a deep breath before finally explaining. “She can’t go out with me unless her sister gets a date, too.” 

Lucy almost laughed at how stupid the so-called bomb was. “Well, ask one of her colleagues to woo her or something. She’s a Fittes agent too, right?” She suggested, remembering the only fact they knew about said sister. “She must know a bunch of people willing to date her.” 

George found the strength to look up, making eye contact with Lockwood and then turning to Lucy, before finally dropping the bomb on them. “I can’t, everyone at Fittes despises her.” 

Shit.

Lockwood and Lucy didn’t even have to think twice about who the sister in question was. There’s only one person who is loathed by every single Fittes agent, and surprisingly it isn’t Quill Kipps. George was talking about Fittes’ very own heinous bitch. (Obviously, the nickname was granted by the one and only Bobby Vernon. But to be fair, it’s not like he is the most reliable of people. Lockwood took note of that.)

Portland Row was silent for a few moments until Lucy finally spoke up. “Well, George. The world is wide, there will always be other people for you to fall for.” 

“Luce.” Lockwood warned her. 

“I’m trying to help!” 

“I know you are, but George really likes this girl.” He explained

“I think I might be in love with her. No, scratch that. I am in love with her.” George confessed in a small whisper.

“Oh, fuck.”

“Luce.”

“Sorry!” 

“I told you we would try to help, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do. Right, Lucy?” Lockwood looked at her, an unspoken beg passing between them. 

“Fine, yeah, we will. What do you know about her sister? Maybe we can find someone with the same interests as her. Like umm.. Holly? or the guy who sweeps the floor at Arif’s?” Lucy almost winced at how stupid their repertoire of options was, the three of them were friends with a limited number of people, and by limited she meant Holly and a guy who always greets them when they get something from Arif’s

George thought for a few moments about everything he knew about her. “I know she’s a team leader–” He couldn’t even finish his list, let alone his sentence, because before he could even continue, Lockwood stood up. 

“I’ll do it.” He said with a small shrug, almost as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

A chorus of “I’m sorry?” and “What the fuck?” were heard at the same time, but Lockwood couldn’t bring himself to care. He wanted to do this. 

“What? You said you wanted someone to woo her. Right, Luce?” He explained as he took Lucy’s empty mug away from her and moved to the sink. 

Lockwood’s back faced them while he washed their used dishes. “Yes, but.. why do you want to do it?”

“It’s a win-win situation. If I go out with her, George will get to date her sister, and we will get publicity.” The way Lockwood explained the situation with such ease had Lucy thinking he had planned this beforehand.

“Publicity?” George finally spoke up. 

“Yes. You said she’s a team leader, which means she is important, and we also know she’s disliked by every single one of her peers, which means the press will be surprised to see her hanging out with someone. So, if we get photographed together, everyone will want to know what’s so special about the agents of Lockwood and Co. Which means–” 

“More cases.” George finished the sentence for him.

“See? It’s easy.” Lockwood, finally done with the dishes, turned around.

“No, it’s not. I think it’s a stupid idea. You won’t be using someone to get this agency more clients, are you insane?” Lucy stated, indignation lacing her words. 

“Hey, George. You said you were taking her sister out for breakfast tomorrow, how about we make it a double date?” He said with a bright smile, ignoring Lucy’s words. 

“Oh, um.. Okay.”

George was right, Lucy thought. They are so fucked. 

1- I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair.

“George, calm down. Everything will be okay, I promise.” Lockwood said, sending an encouraging look to the boy next to him. George was sweating, he didn’t expect your sister to accept the double date. He didn’t expect you to accept the double date. 

“I know. I even practiced a speech and everything, it will be alright.”

“You practiced a what?”

George wasn’t able to answer his question because right when Lockwood asked him, they were able to see two silhouettes standing outside of the café they were walking to.

“Oh, they’re here,” Lockwood stated plainly before walking up to them, George looking nervous as fuck next to him. 

Sure, George was a sweaty mess, but he knew this would happen. He even expected you to look at him with disgust in your eyes and say something along the lines of “I was dragged here against my will. Fuck you, Karim. You will never date my sister.” 

What he didn’t expect to see was your face painted with confusion. George was about to greet you with the long speech he spent the entire night workshopping, but before he could even mutter a word, you let out an exasperated sigh and looked George in the eye before you gaze slipped to Lockwood and then back to him. 

“What is it, asshole day? Why are you two here?”

Lockwood was about to open his mouth and answer your question, but luckily your sister spoke up just in time.

“I invited my two friends to have breakfast with us!” She said with a bright, almost angelic smile. George felt like he was in heaven just by seeing her. 

“I know about Karim, but why are you friends with Anthony Lockwood?” 

“Oh, so you’ve heard of me? Only the good things, I hope.” Lockwood said, his charming smile making a way to his face.

“Yeah, like the houses you’ve burned down, and how stupidly reckless you are to the point that you even got shot.” You stated, repulse evident in your eyes as you looked at the man of the hour. 

“It’s adorable how much you know about me.”

“Have you ever been to a psych ward? I can get you an appointment set and ready by tonight.”

“You want to see me tonight?”

George feared you might slit Lockwood’s throat with the way you were looking at him. “We should, um, get inside.” He said, trying (and failing) to break the awkward tension, guiding the four of you into the café. 

George looked at your sister and whispered into her ear “It’s not my place to assume but.. you didn’t tell her we were coming, did you?”

She gave him a shy smile before answering. “I want her to make some friends, and I think someone like Lockwood might help her come out of her shell.”

She looked so innocent that George wanted to break down crying and tell her all about Lockwood’s dumb publicity plan. This was eating him alive. 

You took a seat next to your sister in the booth George had reserved for the four of you. Lockwood smiled when he saw your eyes widen at the sight of him sitting right in front of you. 

“Karim, can you switch places with your friend?” 

“Why? Are you embarrassed I’ll see you blush whenever you look into my eyes?” 

“Have you ever been told that your hairline will recede by the time you’re 30 years old if you keep cutting and styling your hair like that?”  

“Have you ever been told that you’re incredibly beautiful?” 

Your sister had to place her hand over yours before you could reach for the knife placed in front of you by a waiter. Lockwood couldn’t contain his laughter at the look on your face.

“What’s so fucking funny, Lockwood?”

“Nothing. Don’t mind me, please continue with your insults. I relish being the reason behind your thoughts and words.” 

That was enough to shut you up. Your sister, George, and Lockwood shared jokes and stories while you looked down at your plate, the conversation flowing easily between them. Sometimes you’d look up to find Lockwood staring at you, he’d send you a small smile and try to include you in the conversation, but you didn't intend on giving him the satisfaction of getting you to speak, so you’d shut him down with an eye roll. 

The rest of the morning went by smoothly until your sister had the brilliant idea to tell you about her plans for the rest of the day. 

“You’re going to the archives with Karim.. alone? Just the two of you?” 

“Did you not hear her the first time, love?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lockwood.” You snapped at him, hoping your anger was enough to mask the blush rushing into your cheeks. 

It wasn’t. 

“Did I just make you blush?”

“You made me want to throw up.”

“Deny it all you want, but the pet name clearly had an effect on you.. love.”

“Ugh, whatever.” 

The four of you stood up and walked to the café’s exit, Lockwood opening the door for your sister and you. As soon as you got outside, your sister began to apologize for not telling you about her impromptu archives plan with George.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind. Just.. text me when you get there?” You said softly. Way too softly, Lockwood noticed. He had never seen you this vulnerable, maybe your sister was way more important to you than he expected. 

“I will. Promise.”

You said your goodbyes before turning around, planning on walking to your car, but the universe definitely wasn’t on your side today.

“Wait! I’ll go with you.” Lockwood said as he tried to catch up with you, matching the pace of your long strides. 

“I don’t know if you can tell, Lockwood, but I’m trying to get away from you.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t drive you home after our first date?”

“You’re not a gentleman, and that wasn’t a date.”

Lockwood pressed a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Ouch, not a gentleman? Thank god my mother isn’t here to hear those words.”

You finally stopped walking and turned around to face him. “What do you want?”

“To.. drive you home?”

“No, Lockwood. What do you want? You tried to include me in your stupid conversation earlier, then paid for my breakfast, opened the door for me, and now you want to drive me home. What the fuck do you want?”

Lockwood stayed silent for a while, just staring into your eyes. “I was trying to be nice to you, is that too hard to believe?” 

He took notice of how you looked away from his eyes and tried to keep your hands busy by playing with the hem of your shirt. 

You cleared your throat before saying, “Fine, but if you fuck my car up, I swear to god, Lockwood..” 

2- I hate the way you drive my car.

The car was silent the entire first half of the ride. Sometimes you’d catch Lockwood staring at you from the corner of your eye, but you never looked back, deciding that looking through the car window was a better sight. 

“You don’t talk much unless it is to deliver a well-crafted insult, huh?” Lockwood said, trying to break the silence. It wasn’t awkward, it was just.. tense. 

“Do you want me to talk to you?” You answered, slightly surprised by the fact that Anthony Lockwood of all people, wanted to have a conversation with you. 

“Yeah.”

“And what do you want me to say? It’s not like I know a single thing about you.” 

“You can say whatever you want, I don’t mind. I’ll accept it whether it is you cursing my entire bloodline, or you saying you’re deeply attracted to me.” 

The car came to a stop, a red light illuminating Lockwood’s sharp features. You hated to admit it, but fuck, Anthony Lockwood was attractive. 

“Me? Deeply attracted to you? Holy shit, did you fall and hit your head as a baby?”

“You so are.”

“Am I that transparent? Because you’re right. Oh, Lockwood, I am so attracted to you and your stupid fucking personality. I want you, I need you. Oh baby, oh baby.”

“You have such a beautiful way with words, love.”

That was enough to get a small laugh out of you. Lockwood kept surprising you, he didn’t back down after an insult or two, and he actually seemed to enjoy being indulged in them. 

He turned his head to look at you as soon as he heard you laugh, a smile adorning his face. A feeling of pride (and maybe something more) swelled in his chest.

“I can’t believe I just made you laugh for the first time and we’ve been on a date for about three hours now. God, I’m making such a bad first impression.” 

“You still won’t let the idea of this being a date go?” 

“Nope. I enjoy being on a date with you. You’re a nice person to hang out with.”

The corners of your lips curled up into a small smile. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do, I would rather take you out on a million dates than spend 30 minutes with any other person,” Lockwood confessed, and he meant it.

“Like you could find a person who would willingly spend 30 minutes with you.”

“Oh, see? That, there. Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?”

The two of you spent the rest of your ride home talking, the tension slowly evaporating, leaving room for the back-and-forth quips that Lockwood and you kept throwing each other. 

Lockwood stopped the car when he heard you say, “Alright, this is my house.” You were about to open the door, but before you could even extend your arm he said a quick, “Wait!” and got out of the car, rounding it to open your door.

“Thanks.”

“Anything and everything for you.”

Just as you were about to answer, a flash and the sound of a camera clicking disrupted the moment you were having. 

“You’re fucking with me”, you muttered under your breath. Lockwood looked surprised too, he had completely forgotten about his plan. 

Take her out for a few days. Get photographed together. Gain more clients.

His heart sank at the reminder of the reality of this situation. He had been so busy having fun with you, that his mind decided to blur out the reason why he was hanging out with Fittes’ most hated agent. 

“Alright. I should, um, go.”

“Do you want me to walk you to your door? Or is the first date too soon to meet your parents?”

“Fuck you, Lockwood,” You said with a smile.

“It doesn’t really seem like you want to.”

He found himself smiling, too. 

3- I hate it when you stare.

“What a fun coincidence to find you here, love.”

You rolled your eyes at Lockwood’s annoying voice. “Yeah, it’s such a fun coincidence that you almost burned this house down and my team had to come help your incompetent agency.” 

“Third time’s a charm.”

“There’s no way in hell you’ve been the cause of more than two fires.” 

“If you let me take you out on another date, maybe I’ll tell you more about them.” You almost stabbed him with your rapier. “Shut up, people might hear.” That brought a bright smile to his face and an incredulous look to his eyes.

“Oh, so you want to keep our relationship a secret? Fine, I’ll take it. I love a forbidden romance.” He whispered, the smell of lavender and lemon engulfing you as he kneeled a bit to whisper in your ear. 

“Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night. Anyway, I need to go check out the paperwork for the mess you made, can you keep an eye on my team?” You shyly asked, breaking the eye contact he was desperately trying to keep.

“You trust me with your team? I thought my agency was incompetent and I wasn’t good at anything.” 

“It’s just for a few minutes, don’t let this get to your head.” 

“Oh, it’s way over my head, love.” 

You showed him a very special finger, before walking away to talk to Barnes. You tried to remain professional and listen to what the inspector was saying, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of a pair of eyes looking at you. “Sorry for calling you again, you know how it gets whenever Lockwood and Co have a case,” Barnes said, breaking you out of the cage your mind had trapped you in. 

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s my pleasure to help.” You tried to muster up a small smile for the man, you liked Barnes, he never treated you differently, not even when the way you acted and decided to express yourself wasn’t the most appropriate. 

“And I think it's their pleasure to be helped.”

“I’m sorry?”

You turned around, following Barnes’ line of sight, only for your eyes to meet Lockwood’s. He gave you a small smile but didn’t look away, it was almost as if he longed for your eyes to make contact. You sent him a small frown, wordlessly asking him what was wrong, he just shrugged and waved at the two of you. 

“He is so weird.” You said, turning to face the inspector. “Tell me about it. Well, we are all done here. Have a nice night, and make sure to get home safely.” He answered, eager to get away from the group of agents surrounding him, and walking away. 

Lockwood didn’t miss a beat before making his way to you. “So, I’m thinking we make the second date happen over some tea at Portland Row?”

“Not happening.”

“I’m not one to make a woman feel uncomfortable when she says no, but may I ask why?

“I’d rather spend my time hanging out with ten type threes, than with the group of miscreants you call friends. No offense to Lucy and Holly, though. I quite like them. I was talking about Karim, tell that thing to stay away from my sister.” You answered, finally finding the guts to maintain eye contact while you spoke. 

“You know Lucy and Holly?” He decided to ignore your entire statement, now only focused on the fact that you knew his friends. Anxiety making its way through his body at the thought of Lucy telling you about his plan. 

“Yeah, and they told me some really interesting things about you. I never took you as the type of person to do that type of stuff.”

Lockwood’s heart almost gave out. “What did they say?”

“That you wear pink socks.”

He felt his heart start beating again. Lockwood thought he was about to die in front of you, he made a mental note to thank Lucy for being nice enough to not tell you about his schemes. He found the strength to give you a charming smile. 

“That surprised you? Lord, do you think I’m the type of guy to have a fragile masculinity? My mother raised me better than that.” 

“You mention your mother a lot, are you close with her?

They should give out awards for Feeling your heart stop two times in the span of 3 minutes because Lockwood was sure he would get one delivered to Portland Row’s doorstep by tomorrow morning. 

“I.. um, yeah.” 

Fuck. You made it awkward. You almost dropped down to your knees and begged him for forgiveness. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude into your personal life, it’s not my place to ask and assume shit about your family. I’m so fucking sorry, Lockwood.” The light in your eyes dimmed, the sight of it made Lockwood want to tell you all about his past. He wanted to go back to ten minutes ago when your eyes were shining and looking into his. He internally swore to never let the light leave them again.

“You’re good, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” He reassured you in a small voice, clearly not fine. 

“No, I will worry–” You couldn’t finish your sentence because, once again, the light of a camera flash illuminated Lockwood and you, blinding you both for a split moment. 

“Of course they’re here. Jesus Christ, do they not have lives? A family?” 

“Maybe they just like taking pictures of your beautiful face.”

The light came back to your dim eyes at his statement. “There he is.” You said, noticing how his gaze slipped from your eyes to your lips, before going back to the eye contact you had.

“What can I say? I can’t stop myself from complimenting you when you’re around.”

4-  I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind.

The streets of London were quiet while Lockwood took a small walk in the early morning. Lucy told him if he walked around the city for a few hours, he’d be able to break in the new pair of combat boots she got him as a present after he made it through 10 cases without almost dying.  

“It’s 8 am and you’re already up being pathetic. I should say I saw this coming, but I really didn’t. Holy shit.” A familiar voice snapped him out of the daze he was in. He was so busy going through a list in his head of all the things he had to do this week, that he didn’t notice you walking next to him. 

“How long have you been walking by my side?”

“Long enough to see you staring straight ahead and not noticing how incredibly pathetic you look. Your boots are hideous, by the way.” You answered, looking into his eyes and noticing how he smirked at your last remark.

“I don’t think Lucy will be happy about you calling her well-thought gift hideous.”

You let out a genuine laugh as soon as he said that. It was the type of laugh that bubbled up from your chest and had you throwing your head back. It made Lockwood feel as if all the morning clouds had disappeared and the sun shone only on the two of you. Sure, you had laughed at Lucy’s gift, but the sound was enough to let the sun shine its warm rays through Lockwood’s heart. An infinite sunbathe.

“Oh, so you find this funny? Hurting my best friend’s feelings?” He asked in a teasing tone, squinting slightly at you.

“So.. I take it she didn’t tell you?” You asked, a small giggle escaping your lips and going straight through Lockwood’s heart. 

“Tell me what?”

“That our plan was to get you the most ugly, repulsive looking, and incredibly stupid boots that we could find? I wasted my money on that, you’re welcome or whatever.” 

He should’ve been offended. Offended at how Lucy wanted him to humiliate himself by walking through the streets of London with a pair of bright neon green combat boots. Offended that she had asked for your help to choose the ugliest pair she could find. But he was too busy fighting the urge to press his lips against yours and to run his slender fingers through your hair. 

Did you not notice how you always bit your lip after laughing because you thought that would stop you from falling into another fit of laughter? 

“Yeah, yeah, you two are so funny,” He rolled his eyes with a smile. “Thank you, love.” He was about to nudge you with his shoulder, but as soon as he turned to look at you, he noticed you weren’t next to him anymore.

His heart stopped for a second until he finally looked back and caught you staring at two women through a café window, clearly on a date. One of them gave the other a bouquet of different types of flowers and brushed back a strand of her girlfriend’s bright red hair. That brought a smile to your face. 

“Hey, you okay?” He whispered as soon as he stood next to you, noticing the sad smile on your face. 

“Oh, yeah. I was just..” 

You didn’t have to say a word for him to be aware of what you wanted to mention. The look in your eyes, and the small smile on your face.. this was the look you always got whenever you saw your sister with George. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Lockwood reassured you. Not wanting to scare you off after seeing the look on your face and the small voice you used to answer. 

“Do you think I’m holding my sister back?” You asked, turning around to look into his eyes, your hands trembling a bit.

He didn’t miss a beat before taking hold of your hand and lacing your fingers together, giving your gentle hand two squeezes. “I think.. you care a lot about her, and that’s completely fine. But it is not your job to dictate what she can or can not do. It’s okay to let her have her freedom and life, just like you deserve to have yours.” 

You took a deep breath before pulling Lockwood into a hug, your arms surrounding his neck. Lockwood was startled for a second but didn’t have to think about it twice before wrapping his arms around your waist, letting you take the lead in this display of affection. 

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, but.. um”

“You don’t have to say anything, come on,” He said, breaking the hug and taking your hand into his, pulling you forward to continue the walk you were on.

5- I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme.

Lockwood looked down at your intertwined hands, thinking of things to say to get the fog of sadness blinding you out of the way. “So you’re a hopeless romantic, huh?

“What the fuck?”

Alright, so maybe this wasn’t his greatest icebreaker ever, but at least it was something. He chose to continue. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you always stare at every couple we walk past. It’s kind of adorable. Fittes’ heinous bitch being a hopeless romantic? Sign me the hell up.”

“You’re sick in the head, Anthony Lockwood.”

“I didn’t think of you as a hopeless romantic, like.. at all. But I assume this means you’re the type of person who wants flowers and love letters delivered to her doorstep. Right?”

“No.”

“Sure, love. I’ll keep this in mind for future references.”

Lockwood made sure to walk you back to Fittes’ building after spending the rest of his morning with you, choosing to take the weird looks his boots got with pride and a bright smile. Whenever someone stopped him in the street he’d answer with a happy “my best friend and this beautiful lady next to me gave them to me as a gift”. 

You spent the rest of your day going back and forth through Fittes’ small yet numerous offices, talking to different people about your previous and next cases. Sometimes you’d stop to take a breather outside a door, but quickly remembered the importance of your role as a team leader, and snapped out of your seemingly neverending exhaustion. 

“Am I dreaming or is that my best friend in the whole world?” You turned your head to the right to find Bobby Vernon smirking at you, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

“Fuck off, Vernon.”

“Woah, no need to get all pissy, love.” You clenched your shaking fists, trying to keep your anger in. You may have a short temper, but you would never let someone like him get the satisfaction of making you angry, or at least of noticing the effect his words have on you. 

The thought of someone other than Lockwood calling you by that pet name made you want to burst into tears. How dare they see you as someone who’s weak? After everything you’ve done and fought for to get the role you have as an agent? 

“I don’t have the time for your bullshit, so just spit it out and let me go home.” You said with an eye roll.

“Your sister wanted me to tell you that you got mail. Well, it’s more like a gift, I guess. I assume it’s from your parents because I can’t think of a single human being who genuinely likes you.” 

You knew better than to take his words to heart, but the venom he said them with stung. You knew you were unlikeable, probably even unloveable at this point, but he didn’t have any right to say those words to your face. It made you feel disgusting, you had to fight back the urge to throw up.

“Yeah, alright. Have a good day, Vernon.” You replied as you walked past him and out into the street, calling for a cab to take you home.

The ride back home was silent, and it surprisingly made you miss Lockwood. It made you miss his stupid jokes, his ugly haircut, and his reckless way of driving your car. You were sure the poor guy didn’t know what a stop sign meant. 

As soon as the cab driver got you home, you made sure to pay him and wish him a safe drive, after all, the curfew was 15 minutes away from starting. A sigh escaped your lips after opening your door and heading into your room. The day had left you completely worn out, and Bobby’s words didn’t help at all with the shit day you were having.

You quickly got changed and were about to head to bed when you noticed a package sitting in the corner of your room. A frown made its way to your face when your eyes caught the unfamiliar handwriting with your name on the box, curiosity taking the best of you as you opened the package with a delicate touch.

A gasp left your lips when you opened it and found the same bouquet of colorful flowers you saw the woman give to her partner at the café. A white envelope sat next to them.

With a small smile and shaking hands, you opened it and were greeted with Lockwood’s handwriting.

Hey, my love. 

I’ll be really honest and say that my mind is completely blank as I write this, but I just wanted to let you know that right after I dropped you off, I went to Arif’s with George and heard a love song playing — I couldn’t help but think of your hopeless romantic self as soon as I heard these lyrics: You’re just too good to be true, can’t take my eyes off of you. 

Jesus, I know you’re having a field day reading this. Me? Embarrassing myself and sending you a bouquet and a love letter? You’re right, I must be extremely sick in the head.

Anyway, I hope you have a good day. You deserve it.

With lots of love,

Lockwood. 

(PS: You don’t have to say it back! But I thought it felt right to say it since we’re kind of besties now.) 

The tears you spent the entire day holding back decided to come out right after you finished reading the letter. Sobs escaped your lips as you sat down in your bed, the flowers and letter still in your hand. A strange feeling bubbled up inside you, you didn’t quite know what it meant, but decided to guess it was that disgusting sickening feeling Bobby left you with. 

When you laid in bed and tried to go to sleep, you took notice of how different the feeling you were having right now was from the one you got with Bobby Vernon. Sure, this one made you want to throw up, too. But it also made you want to stare into Lockwood’s eyes again and to feel his arms wrapped around your waist for a few more seconds. You drifted to sleep with a craving of feeling Lockwood’s hand intertwined with yours for the rest of your life.  

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #magnolia’s fics!

[wordsarelife]

lockwood & co masterlist

fluff (f), angst (a), suggestive (s), platonic (p), injury/ blood (w)

────────────────────────

❛ 𝐢’𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝 ❜

────────────────────────

𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 (34.9k)

blank space (0.7k) — normally lockwood can hide his feelings quite well. that talent seems to fade every time someone tries to flirt with his y/n (f,s)

peace (0.5k) — y/n is all that Lockwood needs, especially in the quiet moments (f,a)

sweet nothing (0.8k) — eating breakfast in bed (f)

stay, stay, stay (1.3k) — you never leave a fight unresolved (f,a)

delicate (0.5k) — some flirty banter in a near death situation (f,s)

king of my heart (1.8k) — there was always this flirty banter between you, without anything ever happening. one day you grow tired of it and leave lockwood to make a choice (f,a,s)

treacherous (1.3k) — How can it be that two people who grew up together hate each other so much? lockwood and you find out that love and hate are closer together than you had thought (f,a,s)

cruel summer (1.3k) — there’s just one bed, luckily you are the most brilliant person lockwood knows… or are you? (f,s)

you belong with me (1.6k) — you have to flirt to finish a mission. much to the dismay of lockwood you are far too good at it (f,s)

the way I loved you (pt 2 of ybwm) (1.2k) — lockwood is protective of what is his and in his own definition, you belong to him (f,a,s)

london boy (1.0k) — lockwood and you finish a study about what defines the greatness of a kiss (f,s)

it's nice to have a friend (0.3k) — you pass out after a dangerous encounter with a ghost (a,f,w)

enchanted (1.0k) — lockwood and you have been in love ever since you first met and it's been quite obvious for anyone else, but you two (f)

seven (sibling!reader) (0.5k) — a mission went badly and you and your brother console each other (f, a, p)

i did something bad (1.2k) — gathering information from a tied up and horny teenage boy should be easy enough, right? (s)

i think he knows (1.3k) — you have to admit your feelings for lockwood after your heartbeat goes through the roof at his touch (f)

change (1.4k) — lockwood realizes how much he missed of his sisters, the reader, life (a,f,p,w)

back to december (1.4k) — you had left lockwood in a night filled with regret and there was nothing you wanted more than to apologise to him (a,f,p)

the best day (0.4k) — domestic fluff with anthony lockwood (f)

this is me trying (1.1k) — you always try to save your friends life at the expanse of your own. this time you might've gone too far (a,p)

my tears ricochet (1.4k) — you save lockwoods life on a job but he can't save you.. but with a twist (a,w,f)

it's beginning to look a lot like christmas (0.5k) — lockwood is as cooky as usual, luckily you are used to it by now (f,s)

driving home for christmas (0.4k) — in which you come home for christmas surprisingly and lockwood can proof that his girlfriend is real (f)

the very first night (0.7k) — you celebrate your birthday for your friends only, lockwood celebrates your birthday for you (f,a,p)

lavender haze (1.2k) — despite kipps best efforts to keep you away from each other, lockwood won't stop flirting with you (f)

all american bitch (3.4k) — everbody knew that there was something wrong in the way your brother talked to you and lockwood wouldn't let you accept it any longer (f,a,s)

pretty isn’t pretty (0.8k) — he was showering you in compliments all while you felt like you weren’t pretty enough (f,a)

i forgot that you existed (0.6k) — lockwoods sibling had a bad day at school (f,p)

────────────────────────

𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐤𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐦 (8.2k)

daylight (0.6k) — early morning cuddles with your boyfriend (f)

mastermind (2.3k) — the team has to work together with kipps, for george that means being stuck with the best friend of the blonde leader, y/n. the only person in the whole world that seemed to be smarter than him, that's why he hated her. (a,f)

love story (0.8k) — hiding a relationship becomes a challenge when your bosses are lockwood and kipps, but y/n and george always seem to manage anyway… (f)

i knew you were trouble (0.7k) — you expressed your likeness for george all the time.. seems like he finally gets it (f)

ours (0.3k) — george tries to make reader go to bed (f)

mirrorball (0.7k) — george has been struggling and you help him (a,f)

fearless (1.7k) — george admires you deeply. not only because you're his girlfriend, but because you have an extraordinary gift (f/a)

snowman (1k) — a situation in which you are trapped, causes george and you to confess (f,)

────────────────────────

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐬 (6.8k)

i know places (1.6k) — all hell breaks loose when your brother finds out about you and quill (f,s)

paper rings (1.5k) — you & quill are basically married, but when will he finally ask? (f)

today was a fairytale (1k) — you and quill go on your first date (f,s)

gold rush (0.8k) — loving quill kipps feels like a gold rush (f,a)

santa tell me (1.2k) — you and quill had been the parents of the group for years, but nothing ever happened between the two of you. now it’s finally time to change that, or atleast your friends think it is (f)

santa clause is coming to town (0.2k) — you and quill know each other so well, you could almost finish each others sentences (f)

under the mistletoe (0.5k) — you and your boyfriend get caught under the mistletoe (f)

you need to calm down (0.4k) — you and quill wind down after a long day (f,w)

────────────────────────

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 (5.5k)

anthony lockwood, illicit affairs series (5.5k) — your secret relationship might not be enough for the future you have ahead of you (a,s,f) one, two, three part four (ending: afterglow) part four (ending: closure)

────────────────────────

𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 (0.6k)

deck the halls (0.6k) — decorating cookies at portland row (f,p)

────────────────────────

49 works

#lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #george karim #netflix #lucy carlyle #ali hadji heshmati #cameron chapman #ghost hunting #ruby stokes #anthony lockwood x sister!reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood headcanons #george karim x reader #george x reader #quill kipps x reader #quill kipps #lizzysmasterlists

[fleetingvow]

‘ DEAD WEIGHT .

Anthony Lockwood x Female Reader

SYNOPSIS. the reader’s skills got rusty and with anthony breathing down her neck all the time, well, things that were better off unsaid were spoken. that’s when four became three. ( 6.87k words )

CATEGORY. angst. slight enemies to lovers ( not completely lovers because i write and stick to slowburn. )

WARNINGS. anthony being a total dickwad. usage of profanities. off the timeline. netflix series based. usage of “y/n”. lots of parallelism in statement structures.

NOTE. characters are aged up. written in third person’s omniscient point of view. room add-up for plot purposes.

REMINDER. this fic is written and copyrighted by ©fleetingvow on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other platforms without my permission.

TAGS. @superpositvecloudshipper

𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗦𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦 shrouded in a misty veil. The room had turned bleary as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in her bathrobes. She closed her eyes and opened them again in a desperate attempt to regain her composure. When her feet led her to her room, she felt the pull stronger than what she had been feeling when she was washing up. Y/N gripped the doorknob and opened the door with a groan, and then there was a voice. A mere whisper to her ears.

“Help me!” She turned around, only to see no one but the pen she picked up from a previous home many months ago, mistaking it for the one Lockwood handed. It was surely just her imagination. They already contained the source from the previous mission, destroyed it even. George had done his research and there was only one soul that haunted the home. She was sure no other soul was left behind. Besides, Y/N made sure to set up a schedule to return the object to its rightful place.

However, just now . . . she felt as though it wasn’t just her presence that graced the room. Her eyes scanned her surroundings. There was no one, nothing. Why was it getting harder to breathe? The ringing, they were back again, but this time, it was higher in pitch and volume. She put both palms on her ears in order to block the noises, but it was too loud!

That was until she heard the knock on the door followed by the voice of someone more human, natural in his voice, “Prepare quickly, Y/N. We’re moving swiftly tonight, we have two missions!”

She didn’t respond. It didn’t seem like it mattered when his footsteps were already fading. The girl slowly ran her fingers through her damp hair, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. It was just her imagination — that ringing. But there was a protruding thought that maybe, there was something wrong with her, and she couldn’t place whatever it was.

Although, there was something far more important than that. She needed to be present for this other case. Y/N had been lacking for the past few days, and she was under the pressure of redeeming herself to prove something to Lockwood.

And she was going to prove it well.

THAT HURT! God, it hurt so much! There was no other thing in her mind than how much it felt, causing electric shock through her body, wanting to rip her ears out to just. get it. to stop!

“Fuck!” Y/N exclaimed, losing her grip on her rapier therefore also failing to protect Lucy from the ghost that hovered before them. The clang of the blade on the floor only triggered a louder sound in her ears, putting her mind into shambles as she scrambled to the floor to regain possession of her weapon.

Before she could, however, Lockwood had already slain the ghost himself, buying them more time to pull themselves together. “Lucy!” Lockwood hurriedly rushed to her aid as she panted, refusing the help Anthony was offering.

“Y/N?” Lucy called, her voice combined with worry over the girl’s well-being. “Are you okay?”

It didn’t look like she was, but it was certainly better than before. The ringing had stopped, and what was left was an overcoming fear of when it will occur again. Her forehead was covere din beads of sweat, her mouth gasping for air, and clammy hands clutching the handle of her sword.

She had, in fact, once again failed to redeem herself. And what had she done? Make a complete fool out of herself to Lockwood who only looked at her with disappointment painted oh-so-vibrantly all over his face.

“I covered the source with the net!” George excitedly announced as he made his way into the bedroom where everyone was. It had been a rare occurence before that Lockwood allowed George to do this type of work, but since he’s proven himself to be the hero in most scenarios, he trusted him.

Y/N glanced up at George. She wasn’t mad at him. As a matter of fact, she was grateful for him, not just for containing the source, but also putting an end to the tension in the room. “Are you guys okay?” he proceeded to question.

She stood up from the floor and lowered her head before mumbling, “We’re fine.” She then walked past him swiftly and out of the room with shame as her feet led her to the gardens of the home.

“She’s definitely not fine,” George breathed out. Both of his companions looked at him in a questioning manner. He shrugged, “She’s been acting odd for the past few weeks - months, even. Am I the only one who noticed?”

“You’re always the one to notice something, George.” Lucy commented with a smile. Anthony did not appreciate the conversation, no matter how little. He’d much rather they didn’t talk at all.

“Stay here. I’ll talk to her,” Lockwood ordered. George and Lucy nodded followed by exchanged glances with subtle wide eyes. They knew it was not a good idea Lockwood would follow her, but what could be done? They just hoped he wouldn’t make an arrogant fool of himself again.

“WHAT WAS that?” Y/N’s ears suddenly perked up from the voice. She plastered a sarcastic smile as she replied, “You found me, then.”

“This is no time for foolish remarks, Y/N. What was that all about? You had it. Lucy could have been hurt! You could have gotten hurt! Do you realise what you’ve just done?” Anthony exclaimed. The leaves crunched from under his feet as he marched his way forward to the girl.

“You’re saying that as if I’ve done it intentionally. Is that what you think I do? Sabotage the team?”

“I’m not saying that,” he frustratedly protested, facepalming before placing his hands on his hips, his coat pushed back. “What I’m saying is for you to pull yourself together. Where are you, really? This, this state of yours is going to get us all killed!”

“Lucy’s fine! I’m fine!”

“You both wouldn’t be if I hadn’t stepped in and you had made an absolute mockery of yourself in the situation! You were flailing! Can I even trust you with simple tasks?”

“You call fighting off a type two, simple?” She fired back, trying her best to hold back her anger when she knew she had fucked up.

“We’ve done it before! We’ve dealt with harder cases. What’s going so wrong now?”

“Of course you’d say that! Everything’s easy for you, right?” Lockwood was taken aback by her words, yet instead of processing her words and taking it as a reminder of his past conflicts, he took offence of it, triggering his sense of authority and anger. “If it’s so easy, why don’t you just work with yourself? If you’re so obsessed with perfection, why don’t you eliminate mistakes and put down the team? Because that’s you, right? You’re the one who’s always so bloody perfect at everything!”

His eyebrow twitched as he blinked at her, his face getting softer, yet still inconsiderate as he lifted his head to the side and clenched his jaw. Anthony momentarily fixed his gaze on the floor before placing it back to her. His voice had become monotonous. Cold.

“If you hate me so much, why don’t you just leave the team?”

There was a moment of silence. If the rapier didn’t pierce her heart before, it definitely has now, but it wasn’t the steel sword that did its damage. It was those exact words he had uttered so confidently in her face. There was no hint of regret there when she searched his eyes. There was absolute nothingness.

Suddenly, the coldness of the wind got into her eyes — did it really? Or was she just finding an excuse to mask the reason behind her slightly blurry eyes. Y/N blinked and swallowed her spit in order to remove the lump in her throat. It was useless. She nodded slightly, her face stiff as she tried to muster up her thoughts to create a better expression.

But there was no better reaction.

“What?” she asked for confirmation. Lockwood slightly shifted in his position, standing upright. He looked at her eyes and down to her shoes slightly, taking the sight of the disappointed girl. He swallowed his spit, licking his lips.

“You heard me.”

“So, that’s it then?” she mumbled, trying her best to disguise the betrayal in her voice.

“That’s it.” Anthony replied in a stern tone, not leaving her eyes. “Don’t be so surprised now, Y/N. If it helps you feel any better, maybe you could still start somewhere — just not here.”

“You’re a fucking dickwad, do you know that?!” She yelled.

“I’m doing this for the team.”

“Like shit you are!” She exasperatedly gesticulated her hands in the open air and continued, “You think George and Lucy would fucking applaud you after they find out? I thought we were family! What now? I fuck up, and suddenly I’m gone for good?”

“You could just say n—”

“No, because that’s not it, isn’t it?” She bitterly interjected and combed her fingers through her hair irately. “You’ve hated me from the start! You ignore me every chance you get, but when you’re not, you berate me! You look at me as if I’m about to fail, and you undermine me every single time!”

“I don’t undermine you. I look at you, and I see transitions of how things start and how things end,” he started, chest heaving up and down from his bottled feelings of anguish and rage, not to her but to himself. “I don’t know what it is about you that makes me doubt whatever it is I doubt. You were good at what you do, but you’ve been lost for the past few months. We don’t have a hold of you now, and you’re not telling us anything. To be completely blunt and forward, Y/N: Whenever you’re present in a case, something goes wrong.”

Even to herself, she could admit that he had a point. Every mission that she had with her friends, everything ends up a little bit too complicated than it should. She did feel like she was the cause for the performance of the agency lately. That information itself made her heart sink at the bottom of the pit, pushing her to another depth as he spoke once again.

“You’re a dead weight.”

That statement felt a little hypnotic that it proceeded to ring in her head. Now that was it, why did she feel defeated now? She felt as if he just called her useless. Huh, maybe that’s what she was. Completely and utterly useless for the best agency London has ever seen. She was the dead weight in their group, the failure.

“I just haven’t been myself. I—” Then, there was a silver streak of water that cascaded down her face. She cleared her throat and looked away, wiping the tear with the back of her hand as she sniffled and blinked away the glinting waterfall threatening to spill. “I’m sorry.”

Anthony’s chest felt different with that statement. His eyes that showed no remorse softened at this current sight of her, but there was something at that moment that told him to resist it. He had to stand firm, and he knew to himself he’d do just about anything for the sake of the team, even if it had to be removing Y/N from it.

The thought of questioning whether this decision was right began to rebuke him.

“Y/N, I’m only doing this for the best of everyone’s well-being.”

“You already said that,” she replied and took a deep breath, avoiding eye contact with him. Then, she shrugged her shoulders and laughed to herself in bitter humour. She unsheathed the rapier from her side and took a few steps forward to the boy who gave her a puzzled look.

She took his hand and offered the handle of her blade, closing his palm with hers. Y/N forced a smile on her lips, looking up to meet his eyes. They were close.

Just. This. Close.

Y/N had seen his eyes numerous times before, but under whatever spell, she never got tired of it even despite the sharp daggers it threw at her. Her heart shattered once more, this soft gaze she’d sometimes thought was an illusion made the broken shards leap hopelessly that it left her dizzy for another minute or so.

The wind in the garden gently whispered.

Anthony felt this feeling before, but he dismissed it just like he’d always done. It was something that he believed to be unworthy of his attention. If he looked the other way, what of the path that he worked so hard for?

“Y/N, I—”

“I’ll be gone by morning. Don’t tell the others . . . for me please, would you, Lockwood?” She whispered. Goddamn it, she was going to go! Anthony couldn’t do anything. His body and soul were both locked in the position of looking at her, paralysed as he tried his best to catch his breath. His eyes quickly paid a glance to her lips before switching back to her eyes.

He hummed in response.

There was a palpable tension in such an open space. The girl decided to have had enough of it, leisurely stepped away without breaking eye contact, and walked off with his head turned to watch her figure fade away with the distance.

SHE SAID SHE’D be gone by morning. It was 3 AM, and he wasn’t sure what morning she was referring to, but surely she’d use more time for rest and packing her things. It wouldn’t be so early. He paced back and forth, almost creating a six feet deep grave of his own in front of her door, his hands secured in his pockets. His furrowed eyebrows almost reached each other to knit a whole line on his face, but he soon stopped with a sharp exhale.

Anthony realised how wrong he might have been. The fact that both Lucy and George don't know anything made him feel even more guilty knowing damn well they would have his head and ego once they learn of what he did. Not only that, he felt incessantly bad for being cruel with his choice of words without consideration to what Y/N’s explanation could offer. To be completely honest, he wasn’t even thinking straight! He had no clue where the idea of eliminating her from the team came from.

His mind hadn't been at peace nor was it sober in his library when they got back home. Y/N shut herself in her room after an awkward dinner in which they both pretended everything went well. Lucy and George, bless their poor naive innocent souls, seemed to buy it with Lucy feeling a little bit hesitant.

It was 3 AM, and he was at her door.

At her door.

His hand slightly lifted to knock her door, but it stopped mid-air. Lockwood sighed, pulling his hand back in his pocket with a shake of the head. He’d been horrible, and disturbing Y/N’s peace no matter how fleeting, would be more displeasing.

Anthony’s footsteps faded with Y/N listening intently behind the door, wiping her silent tears. He was outside her door for half an hour during her moment where she wrote her letters individually to the members of the team. She didn’t want to open the door, but her desire to speak to him drove her to a decision that if he knocked, she would let him in. If he asked that she returned, she would.

But alas, he didn’t do any of those, leaving her to conclude that his decision was final, and his words were deeply meant and intended. It was her fault, after all.

And maybe the agency would be better off without a dead weight.

WHEN MORNING CAME, Anthony was jolted awake when George shook him back to consciousness in the library lit with the sunshine pouring through the window. As soon as he fluttered his eyes open and saw the light with George’s frantic silhouette, it had been a clear indication that he was too late.

“Y/N’s gone!”

There was an unpleasant sensation in his stomach, bad butterflies taking control over his system. He quickly sat up and ignored the pounding headache he gained overnight. Anthony turned to George, “Since when?”

“I don’t know. Lucy called her for breakfast but she didn’t answer. She never didn’t answer! So we went up there to check, but all her things were gone.”

He got to his feet and went straight to Y/N’s provided room where all traces of her existence were never found, except for the envelopes clutched in Lucy’s trembling hands. Her face wasn’t warm and welcoming at all as she furiously questioned, “What did you do?!”

“She’s left the agency!” Lucy exclaimed.

“Why?” George asked in response.

“Ask Lockwood. Apparently, he’s the one who talked to her last night after the mission.”

“What are those?” Karim gestured towards the envelopes Lucy had. She raised the letters with their names engraved in jet black ink.

“See for yourself,” she answered and shoved each of the letters to the designated receivers. The girl then furiously marched out of the room, leaving behind both George and Anthony to themselves. Karim opened the correspondence and trailed his eyes along the letters scribbled on the tear stained paper, his face growing bitter word for word as he finished.

The boy turned to his companion, “You’re unbelievable.”

Lockwood wore the same frown he wore in front of her door a couple of hours ago. George left him in the room to self-reflect between the four walls of nothingness but the lingering memories of who used to occupy it.

He looked at the letter, opening it as he scanned the wirds carefully written yet stained with tears that dried on the ink that spread on the fibres of the paper.

“Anthony,

I didn’t tell them, if that’s what you’re worried about, but I’m not sure if my explanations will suffice. I know Lucy and George are smarter than you give them credit for. Whatever happens, I want you to continue the agency with them. They’re your only family left.

I loved the memories with you and the others and I will continue to treasure them until it’s my prized possession that you will have to seek one day. I hated you for a while, and maybe I hate you now, but there’s nothing but the truth that you make a great leader, and I hope your passion will lead them to the path they want, and their loyalty will not banish even after eternity.

For a while, Lockwood, your home had been my home. Our home, but after tonight, it seems as though you gave the key to the wrong person. I hope you will find a better one worthy of the team.

Do not look for me. I will find a good place to find myself and start again and recover. And once I recover, I swear to George and Lucy, I will write. Take care of them.

I’m sorry,

Y/N.”

He wanted to crumple that letter, but that’s all he had of her. Each passing second that he stared at the empty room made him feel guiltier and guiltier. The blood in his veins rushed as he turned crimson with rage. Anthony had never been one to lose composure of himself, especially when he was angry, but it was different this time.

He knew to himself that he blew it. He had fucked up and now he was not the only one that was paying. Because of his arrogance, the house lacked Y/N’s annoying laughter, her awkward morning small talks and idle chatter, the familiar creaks on the wooden stairs because of how loud her feet become when she’s excited for a new case.

Her seat remained empty, devoid of the girl's presence. Her favourite cup had been set before the chair without any mark or stain of the hues she usually wore on her lips. The smell of coffee George brewed earlier for her wafted in a room, serving as an object to rub it in their nose of the bitter tension she’d left behind in that very room.

Lockwood cleared his throat, “Our next mission, er.”

Lucy’s scoff caught his eye, “Give us a break, Lockwood.” She put her mug down, her eyes piercing through his, speaking, “When will you ever learn to not only care about yourself?”

“Lucy, not now.”

“Yes, now.” George intervened. “No one knows why Y/N left, except you. Her family wouldn’t want her back even if she writes that on her Christmas list. You know it to yourself too, that’s a dumb excuse.”

“She left the agency because she made her choice,” Anthony monotonously replied, and quickly regretted it as he sighed and spoke again in a much gentler, more emotion-filled voice, “It was the best for us all.”

“Did she make that choice, or did you? No wonder she left.” Lucy mumbled as she was not having any of it. She slammed her feet on the floor and stood up to leave the kitchen with George leisurely following behind.

Y/N TOOK IN THE rotten interior of the home. Everything was mouldy and abandoned. It was an odd thing, for sure. The house was supposed to be sold months ago! Why was it deprived of human presence? Something was not right, especially with that voice slowly creeping in her ears again.

She wasn’t alone in that place.

“Help me,” she heard. There was a guess there. A guess she’d been doubting for weeks but knew to be believed by her subconsciousness. The girl grabbed the pen from her pocket and sighed, closing her eyes to allow itself to commune with her.

“What do you want me to do?” She questioned.

It was a bad idea, but it was daylight. The power of this type of entity, whatever it is, should be weak by now. Y/N felt herself being pulled in a deep void, forcing all her energy to go down with the force. It was her mind that felt lightweight and then her body with static. All sounds from her surroundings started to become collectively like the sound of electric waves until it was an absolute nothingness.

Just then, an ornate box appeared among the fog, its gold embellishments covered in crimson hues, dripping on the now visible desk. The event happened so fast, and what was once a flurry of foggy mess was now a warm room lit with glinting candle lights from above the ceiling before it turned into a ghost of the olden times. The doors were being pounded from the other side, followed by voices who furiously shouted a name.The girl looked around to see a cadaver on the floor, severely tortured and bloodied. Then, she looked at herself, taking note of how her hands were covered in the same liquid as on the floor.

“What happened here?” she whispered to herself in a frantic tremble.

“Give us the box!”

She looked at the object now in her hands. Every inch of her appearance had changed into someone else, feeling their sense of determination to hide and clutch the treasure in her possession. She turned frantically to look for a way out, but just as she was about to run for it, the door burst open and there came three men, one with a pen in his hand.

“You’ve signed the agreement my father’s given you!” She didn’t know why or how, but it must have been the ghost that kept haunting her that said it.

“Will it matter any longer?”

Just as she screamed, the world had turned into a fading vision. Y/N woke up with a gasp, finding herself on the floor with the piles of stones and rubbles, debris from the structure of what once was a home of an aristocrat. There it was again, that ringing. The girl groaned from the consistent hearing disturbance.

She stood up, only to find herself in an entirely different room. Her eyes made a quick scan of the structure. That was when she found an unusual glint inside the crack on the floor. “So that’s why.”

The death glows would have been seen by Lockwood before, but he didn’t, only because the home had been renovated long before it got destroyed again. The floor had been covered by another layer of floor.

Then, a glint caught her eye, the moonshine had reflected its light where she saw the intricate box. Quickly, she crawled over to it and pulled it out of the crack with force. The box was the same as before, only old and rusty. The surface was covered in dust and old traces of blood.

The ringing stopped, replaced by a series of the hushed voices of a woman. Y/N flailed side by side, falling on her knees as she crawled to grab ahold of the intricate box covered in dust and other filthy muck. “What is this for? What should I do?”

That’s when she realised the sun had finally set and she was in deeper trouble than she was. A glowing light appeared behind the door frame as it continued to hide. Her breath hitched, grabbing ahold of the rapier she managed to steal from Anthony’s library.

“I will help you! You’ve tormented me enough,” she mumbled, holding the rapier up as a barricade between her and the ghost.

The ghost let out a deafening shriek as it frowned at her, hovering through the air before her eyes.

“I promise!” Y/N exclaimed. “Just let me help you!”

However, it was not easy making deals with a dead-undead visitor made up of ectoplasm and substantial despair and anger toward the living. The ghost charged forward, making her lucky enough to move out of the way. She yielded the sword, and the luck of the draw struck again when she managed to hit the visitor with her iron blade, buying her more time.

The girl opened the box, revealing a pile of papers and an old silver pocket watch eaten away by old age and exposure to oxygen and insects that created their own home within the chest. The cobwebs were occupied by several tiny eight-legged creatures causing her to cringe as she dropped the box and shook the spiders off.

Upon the contact of the crate with the floor, a glowing spot appeared.

She looked at the ghost of the woman that haunted her. It stopped mid-air for a while before continuing with her new entertainment of tormenting the girl more. Y/N’s eyes widened at a sudden realisation.

That was it!

For the first time in a long time, she finally felt like she wasn’t being an absolutely bloody idiot. “I have to destroy it, don’t I? For you to find your peace, is that it?”

That was when she frowned and muttered under her breath, “But that’s not your source.”

Then, her ego was kicked off the curb with her guts. A hand reached out from the glowing spot on the floor. “That’s someone else’s source!” She raised her rapier and quickly wielded it to hit the box, preventing the ghost from coming out of it.

The first visitor shrieked again and charged forward as Y/N fumbled on the floor, miserably looking for the pen. Her breathing was audibly fast, waving her sword desperately through the air to ward off the ghost that had been restless in chasing after her.

She scanned the cracks, there was nothing. Then, under the desk, nothing. That’s when she noticed the object she sought right next to an empty cobwebbed shelf on the floor next to a book.

Y/N removed her sword out of the way, darting towards the pen to grab ahold of it, quickly swerving to get rid of the visitor. After that, she hit the box again and once the glow disappeared, her fingers found themselves holding onto the chest for dear life. She put the smaller object in it, and placed it between her side and arm, her other lifting the rapier up.

Dumb! Literally dumb!

Her foot got caught in a lifted crack on the floor, causing her to plant herself on the floor. A groan emitted from her lips as she tried to ease the pain on her chest. Upon realisation, she swiftly turned and held her sword up, fighting the phantom.

“My ears hurt from your constant shrieking!” she yelled.

Due to the movement of her arms, the box had slightly drifted away from her clutch as she busied herself warding away her enemy. “I even wonder why it isn’t Lockwood that you could have bothered! You would have been at peace by now, but no. You chose the weakest link! I’m practically useless, and I might possibly be losing my talent! Now you’re the one who’s mad? I didn’t choose me! You’re the one who screwed up!”

Maybe she was the mad one, in different terms. She was talking to a ghost, for Chrysler’s sake! Even worse, having a verbal feud with it!

If only Lockwood could see her now.

That was until the ghost disappeared after a swift, almost invisible lightning speed strike. She gasped for air and turned around to see what the cause of it was, but no. What’s better is to destroy the sources and get peace once and for all. She sat up and crawled over to the object, grabbing a nearby rock and destroying it for good. The pained wailing finally died down as she loudly caught her breath, exhaustedly falling on her back with her sword clattering on the ground.

“L/N!”

That voice. That god-awful voice. She closed her eyes shut, unable to open them for a second due to her strong will to rest and recover. Look, now she was even hallucinating Lockwood calling her by her last name. It was impossible that he was there, and even if he was — she laughed slightly. He couldn’t be. If he was, she would tear the world apart just to get away from him. She wanted to be millions of miles away from him, avoiding his gaze, getting rid of his smell, and that stupid voice with that arrogant tone of his. He had crushed her dreams and hope like it was nothing, even with just a brief conversation, everything that she clung to in that agency faded in one statement that she wished she never heard from him.

But good riddance, right? At least now she knew it was the wrong agency for her. She wasn’t cut out for this kind of work.

“L/N.”

“Can voices just stop — ” she angrily mumbled, almost in a slur of words, “ — pestering me all the time? Can I just have peace for once? Is that too much to ask for?”

“If they stopped now, you wouldn’t hear what I have to say now, would you?” Now that was it. The girl’s peace had been completely shattered once and for all with that single question built in a rhetorical structure. Her eyebrows now knitted together — an exaggeration, but they almost did. Just a little smidge and they’d be meeting. It couldn’t possibly be him, could it? Her heart fluttered both bitterly and in a way that she hoped that there was hope, but knowing Anthony, he was only here as a figment of her hostile imagination. He wasn’t truly here. That would be asking for too much — only she didn’t ask anything to send him here.

“I’m sleep-deprived,” she muttered under her breath.

It took Lockwood his whole body and soul to stop himself from smiling. He thought he wouldn’t see her here, that she would be off somewhere else, and not the usual destination she would go to whenever she was upset.

A hallucination: that’s what he was to her as of this moment. She still had her eyes closed, refusing to open her eyes, and what was worse was the constant question whether she refused to see the disappointment of a world with Lockwood there or the opposite.

Then, that’s when she felt a gentle contact at the back of her neck, slowly lifting her from the ground. Panic covered her bones and took over the nerves to her brain as she mentally screamed repetitively.

She quickly opened her eyes to see him kneeling just before her, holding her as if she was a fragile glass compared to all that he's seen in his entire life in his basement.

He was there.

He was real.

He was touching her.

And he was — "Your hands are cold."

"I don't care, L/N."

There was something different. All the passionate hatred she had for him was slowly starting to well up in her chest, but being swallowed by a big flurry of adrenaline that made her blood flush in her veins faster.

It was his gaze. They'd changed into something atypical. Too . . . soft, and upon realisation, the double volume of her disdain started knocking her off again.

"No," she mumbled and quickly sat up, pushing him away from her as she scrambled to get her rapier and stand up. "You can't just come here and play the hero, and look at me like that! No!"

Confusion changed his expression, "I just helped you."

"Why do you do this to me?" Her voice has all but given up standing sturdy. She trembled both in excessive fatigue and strong emotions. "You can't just — just look at me like that after you made me feel like shit! And then what? You pity me, and you say sorry and things will go back to being shit again and the cycle continues? What do you think I am?"

"I—"

"You what? You're sorry? Why did you come here? To tell me worse things, that I'm hopeless or that maybe you're so noble that you just felt the need to help me get started with my life?"

Lockwood understood every bit of what she was saying. Her absence in that home has made him realise just how much of a cowardly bastard he was. How undeniably much of an asshole he had been to her and how much hell he'd pay. Her wrath was just the start of it.

But his understanding was growing weary. He knew in a way that Y/N had her wrongs too, "You never told us about the voices."

She halted. She really didn't have any other reason than she didn't want to appear weak and bother anyone. Besides, she doubted the existence of the voice. But there was no excuse.

"I wanted to figure things out on my own," she stated before turning to leave. Before she did though, he spoke.

"I look at you," he started as she stopped and slightly turned to her side but not completely enough to meet his eyes, "like this, not because I pity you, Y/N."

That was her name. Her first name.

"I look at you because I've been. Whenever you were unaware that I was looking. I've always seen you from the start, hence why when I said you reminded me of how things begin and end, it was because you were the first person to make me get up from my bed and the only person I want to see when the day ends. When I'm tired and weary." He then averted his gaze to the ground, "I looked at you like that earlier because I couldn't bear to look at anything else or see you in another state."

"I regret everything that I said, and I wanted you to know how hard it's been to look at your door and think that in the next few days, someone else or no one will occupy that room knowing that there were traces of you — any traces, just anything but physical. It's been torture, not just for me, but for both Lucy and George. So, I thought maybe you'd gone to the place you've been going to peculiarly for the past few months," he continued.

Indeed, he knew her, watched her, examined her.

Possibly even admired her. From afar. But he looked the other way, believed the other way because how could he afford that? How could he afford these feelings knowing he had nothing? He had himself, but he did not have anything stable that he could give her. Will that make her happy? Not at all.

"I'm sorry," he breathed out. "I know it's not enough, but I'm willing to prove to you how sorry I am. Just — I want you to know that I never intended things to be so bad and out of control, and I never meant to hurt you. I thought I was doing the right thing, but this isn't an excuse. I just want you to know that I regret everything."

"You are not a dead weight, Y/N. If anything, you're a breath of fresh air, and you make things easier every time one of us feels down. You make the mornings lighter, the end of every exhausting day a moment of opportunity to think about how thrilling life can be. You make the next days, weeks, months, and years something to look forward to. When you left, thinking about those future moments without you with us, it feels empty and terrible. A few hours without you had turned us into malfunctioning lunatics. We're in shambles — I'm in shambles. What more with days? The truth is, it's not you that's the problem. I keep causing you pain, and I'm trying to be better, because I want to be better for you. When the time comes that I do, I will try to be the best. You deserve that. It will take time, and that is why I'll understand if you don't want to return to the agency with me."

Come to think of it, as she observed his state, his Lockwood hair wasn't in its best today. His eyes looked tired and bloodshot. His always tidy flat clothes were wrinkly and his tie was out of place. He looked like he'd been through hell, and his next elaboration explained why.

"Thinking about you every now and then, especially now, I've always shifted in my seat, trying to decipher just how you affect me this much. When I found the possibility of how, I felt the sense to hide it. Every smile that you caused, I hid it all, because secretly I love bickering with you every chance we get, because I get to see the thrill in your eyes and the fire that you hide. I thought that maybe if I hated you, I would selfishly gain more feelings and learn to embrace the things I might possibly find distasteful if my feelings started the other way. And I did, I managed to admire everything you hated about yourself. You've made me feel things strong enough that whenever I run away, I still end up going back to you."

"Lockwood," she finally spoke and swivelled to face him completely. "Anthony."

"Yes?" He eagerly lifted his head to wait for her response.

She chuckled, "I thought you were about to recite Mr. Knightley when he was confessing to Emma."

That's when he laughed and nodded, accepting the fact that maybe he said too much that all she could reply was Jane Austen’s Emma joke, "Well, I have been told that I have a knack for paraphrasing."

"Do you mean all that?"

"The bickering part, most especially."

"Do you want us to bicker now?"

"I think we're already starting," he commented, which made them snicker.

"I'm sorry," she stated. Lockwood thought that was her way of telling him that it was too late. His heart was pierced by a shard of mirror which he failed to use earlier for self-reflection. That was when she smiled, "I just don't know what to say."

"You can start by accepting our job offer. We, er, have an open position looking for someone with a talent like yours," Anthony cheekily replied with a playful smile. "Our agency is one of the most prestigious agencies in London, and we ensure the safety and warm welcome — new addition, of our team, old and new. Do you accept, Y/N L/N?"

“Didn’t you hear what I said earlier? I think I’m losing my talent.”

“And you still managed to beat a type two with a frenemy in one night with a rapier, a pen, and a box?”

"You're a bloody idiot." She defeatedly let out a breath of joy and relief.

"I'm taking that as a yes. Come on, if you say yes, we'll bicker nonstop and you’ll get endless coffee privileges."

"You're a bloody idiot." She defeatedly let out a breath of joy and relief.

“Just so we could hate each other again, and be able to speak about our fondness more.” offered his hand for her to take. She leisurely took it, trying to ignore the warmth her hand provided to his cold one. He was holding her. Touching her, when a few hours ago, he couldn’t even as much as lay a finger on her.

And when they got back home, the block had been covered with missing posters of Y/N, with additional apology notes and “Lockwood sucks!” extras. That was true.

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x reader angst #anthony lockwood angst #anthony x reader #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood & co x reader #anthony lockwood fic #anthony lockwood fic rec #lockwood and co fic rec

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

pairing : anthony lockwood x reader

word count : 10k

warnings : drinking, drunken state

taglist : @demigoddess-of-ghosts ; @oblivious-idiot ; @neewtmas ; @bobbys-not-that-small ; @bella-rose29 ; @maraschinomerry ; @novelizt ; @fudosl ; @archiveoftara ; @cassiopeiia24 (i think i didn't forget anyone but i could be wrong)

content : I couldn’t resist some callbacks to the attic scene before fittes’ party, George wears a bowtie for all the fans of ali in a bowtie out there know that it was my frame of reference, I tried to not make it look like a direct copy of the fittes party but there are a lot of similarities

note : life got so out of hand, I sincerely apologize that it took so long but to make up for it it’s quite long and I really really like this part it’s THE part I’ve fantasized about since I started writing and I really like how the main scenes came out

Also sorry I know it’s been a long time but pt8 picks up right after the last scene of pt7

She realized what she just said as she walked past him entering the kitchen. She turned around suddenly, bumping into him as he followed her inside.

“I’m so sorry Lockwood I’m being so rude.”

“Well, you’re not wrong but you could tell me this without stepping on my toes.”

She looked down and fair enough she was. She took a few steps back, apologizing again and she bumped into the cupboards behind her.

“Ow!”

“Am I gonna have to stitch you up again?” Lockwood asked, amused.

“I’m so sorry.” She said again sitting down in the chair closest to her.

“You keep saying that.”

“Well, I am. I’m sorry I talked to you that way in front of Lucy, and I’m sorry I talked to you like that in the hall, and I’m sorry I came into your life yelling at you and making you angry-”

“I’m not angry.” He interrupted. “Just… frustrated.” They stayed in silence for a while staring at each other.

“I can’t figure you out.” He admitted in a lower voice.

She could have told him the same thing.

“You hate me, then you warm up to me, then you give me the cold shoulder and hate me again… what am I supposed to think?”

“I don’t hate you. I just… I can’t figure you out either. I never know what you’re thinking.”

“Well, I hired you because I think you’re good, I hate fighting, I genuinely want to help you with this whole thing, and I think it’s pretty nice when we get along. Is that clear enough?”

Not quite, she thought. What were they supposed to be? Did he consider them actual friends now or were they far from it? Did he mean it when he said that he had always been honest with her? His charming act did look awfully familiar every time he used it with clients. She didn’t know what she was supposed to think. All the questions that clouded her mind when she thought about him came rushing in.

“We’re strictly colleagues then? Or am I allowed to say that we’re friends.” She managed.

“I think friends is more fitting. I mean what kind of employer would I be sleeping in the same couch as my underling?”

She blushed furiously at the memory of his arms around her.

“Sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Did I go too far that night? I never meant to-”

“Lockwood it’s alright. It was sweet really… I didn’t expect you to watch over me like that.”

They both looked anywhere else but each other, embarrassed at the thought of that night. She didn’t regret it, quite the contrary. She still thought about it fondly.

“It was nice… I felt safe.” She added in a tone barely above a whisper.

“I know you’d do the same for me…”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“Wouldn’t you?” he asked, his frown deepening as he looked into her eyes, almost begging.

“I… I just don’t see what I did to make you so sure of it. Was it the insults or the yelling?”

He laughed.

“You saved my life twice. I didn’t think I’d have to remind you that, I rather thought you’d gloat and annoy me with it every single day.”

“You’re right I should.”

They exchanged another look, warmer and more knowing.

She got up to prepare some tea. She made his cup the way he liked it and handed to him. He smiled at her with the familiarity she liked so much. She turned around before he could notice the blush on her cheeks. She then prepared two more cups, George’s with slightly more sugar than hers and placed them on an unused corner of the Thinking Cloth. She called on George and handed him his tea. When she looked up at Lockwood his smile wasn’t as wide. The three of them settled around the table.

“Alright, let’s plan a heist.”

--

“Why can’t we just push it back one week? It’d give us the extra time we need to prepare.”

“The event for the launch of their new rapier line will be more crowded and it lasts an entire day. Showing up there will never be enough to keep us out of suspicion. It has to be the fundraiser tomorrow.”

Lockwood hadn’t looked up from the plans of the building. They were trying to figure out the safest route for Lucy and Norrie to reach the documents they needed while staying as far from the party as possible and they were running out of time. Lockwood had had a hard time getting them in the fundraiser. For starter he had tried reaching out to different contacts to get in. The only result he got was a newfound rage against the Organization for not inviting them in the first place. She could have guessed a million things that could have motivated Lockwood to get them into this party at all costs. She didn’t think Bunchurch would be the one. Apparently the less than prestigious agency had some agents attending the event. In fact, all agencies had some representatives attending, or almost all of them. Something about showing the growing bonds between agencies and the Silverpoint Organization. Lockwood’s renewed determination led him to go all the way down to their headquarters to demand an invite using a mix of his usual charms and some threats of bad press. He had been convincing enough to get the three of them in. He had just put the envelopes down on the Thinking Cloth with a triumphant smile when someone knocked on the door. George led Lucy in the kitchen and they all smiled widely when she told them she and Norrie would join them. All the pieces were finally coming together. Then they studied the plans of the house and realized that it wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

First of all because it was a mansion and not a house. The surface was significantly larger and the number of rooms they had to cover seemed impossible to search in just a few hours. Second of all because it was a city mansion, just north of Hyde Park, with other buildings right next to it, no garden and the front door accessible from the street. No other point of entry and neighbours on both sides. It had been fairly easy to determine which rooms to search first, compared to figuring out how the girls were supposed to get inside and out while remaining unseen.

“Wait what’s this?” Norrie asked picking up some of the research y/n had done on the party. She had spent so much time looking at those papers she couldn’t bear to look at them again.

“It’s details about the party, the agencies and companies that will be represented, the staff I managed to get information about, that kind of thing.”

“Well, if we know which catering company they’ll be hiring why don’t we use that?”

“How?”

“I don’t know… Maybe get hired, be a waitress during the event and use that to slip out?”

They all stared at her, in disbelief that they didn’t make the connection sooner.

“That’s a good idea but I’m not sure we’ll have enough time to get hired.” Lucy raised a good point.

“They’re always looking for extra people at the last minute for this kind of event. They get to hire desperate people who need a job so they can pay them less. It could be worth a try.”

“Norrie, that’s brilliant.” Lockwood exclaimed, his enthusiasm renewed. “Okay, you and Lucy will get in by waitressing at the event.” He got up and started pacing around the room. “You discreetly slip out and search the rooms in that order. I’ll need you to find a folder to put the documents in. Next, one of you go up on the second floor in that room.” He pointed at what seemed to be a bedroom drawn on the top left corner of the map. “You’ll let the folder fall from that window into the alley next to the mansion. When it’s done, give us a discreet sign. One of us will fake going out to take some fresh air and retrieve the documents.”

Relief filled the room as Lockwood finished explaining the last details of his plan. He was so sure of himself, so confident and convinced that they would succeed that it was hard to be pessimistic. He made it sound so easy.

“Lucy, Norrie, you should go and see if you can get hired today. George, now that we have a plan, I’m ordering you to find something decent to wear to the event.”

George sighed, clearly not happy about having to leave his research and take on an activity he had no interest in.

“Do you have something to wear, y/n?”

“I’ll probably figure something out.” She answered, rubbing her eyes. The long days of research, planning and cases had drained all energy from her, and like George she wasn’t too eager to spend time on her feet looking for something to wear at a party she wasn’t going to have fun at. Her bed sounded more appealing than anything else.

“Am I going to have to lead you both out with the point of my rapier in your back to get you moving?”

“Are you threatening us so we go shopping?”

“Well, locking you out of the house isn’t an option because of a certain someone,” Lockwood said as his stare lingered on her a few seconds more than she thought necessary, “so I have to resort to extreme measures.” He concluded with a wink.

They looked at him in disbelief. Since when did he care so much about what they were wearing?

“We need to be camera ready, this could be Lockwood and Co.’s first very public night we need to look our best!”

She was so exhausted she hadn’t realized they now had to endure fame-struck Lockwood craving the attention of the public. He was not going to let this go. She reluctantly stood up, mouthing “fine” at him with a thin smile. She dragged George out of the kitchen before he could protest and start an argument he would lose anyway. When public image was at stake, Lockwood always had the last word.

They got home three hours later, arms tired from carrying heavy bags. George’s suit weighed a ton, so did her shoes. She thought then that the platforms might have been overkill. Especially since she still didn’t know what she was going to wear. Finding something appropriate had taken longer than expected. Not for George, who bought the first cheapest suit he could find to get this over with. He complained louder each time she tried on a dress she didn’t buy. She was as frustrated as he was, really. The weather was getting colder and for some reason all she could find were backless or sleeveless dresses in which she was already too cold just by trying them on. Between George’s complaints and her feet growing tired y/n thought about giving up more than once. They started to walk back, discussing the plan for their very busy evening the following night when George interrupted himself.

“Look!”

“What? What is it?”

“In the window across the street. That could fit you for tomorrow night, right?”

She looked across to see a long-sleeved black jumpsuit on the mannequin in the shop in front of them. It was simple but very elegant, with a square neckline, a tight body giving the illusion of a corset, and wider pants long enough to touch the floor. The platforms would come in handy here. Since it was George’s idea, she told him he wasn’t allowed to complain if it didn’t fit. She went inside and came back out fifteen minutes later with another heavy bag to carry home.

---

She couldn’t help the tremor in her hand while she applied mascara on her eyelashes. As the hours went on, y/n could feel the knot in her stomach tighten. The idea of spending the night at such a sophisticated event made her nervous. She was incredibly intimidated, especially considering the type of crowd she would have to face. Being surrounded by rich and elegant people was not something she was used to, and tonight she would have to talk to them to make sure they saw her there. It added a stinging salt to her already oozing wound. She fixed her hair for the tenth time in the past fifteen minutes, checking her reflection under every angle. She jumped and dropped her hairbrush when someone knocked on the door to the attic.

“y/n, are you alright?”

She recognized Lockwood’s voice and told him to come in. She bent down to retrieve her hairbrush and when she looked back up she saw him standing next to the mirror, wide-eyed and silent.

“Do I look this bad?”

“You… No! No, no on the contrary you look…” He blushed as he looked into her eyes.

“You look great.” He said shyly.

She didn’t think she had ever seen him so flustered. Had she not been so nervous, she might have read into his reaction. But her nerves were so unsettled that she simply smiled back at him before putting on her lipstick. She had picked a dark red to complete her elegant look for the night. She focused on the reflection of her lips. When she looked back up Lockwood was gone. She wondered if she had imagined his eyes following her every movement in the mirror. He was acting strange, but it was a very stressful night. She couldn’t even stop her hands from shaking. It was surprising coming from him, but they had never been in that situation before. Confused, she went to sit on her bed to put on her shoes. Another knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Yes?”

Lockwood was back, the same bewildered expression on his face.

“I’ve never seen you with lipstick.”

“Well, it’s not really my priority when going out to fight visitors all night.” She joked.

He kept staring insistently at her.

“What is it? Did I get some on my teeth?” She stood back up to look in the mirror again. Everything had to be perfect. She inspected every inch of her face, every tooth, every hair. Movement behind her made her look up to see Lockwood stepping closer in the reflection, reaching for something in his pocket.

“Here, I thought it would make you look even more elegant than you already are.”

He took out a red velvet pouch and revealed a pearl necklace.

“Lockwood… that’s… very thoughtful. Thank you.” She hoped the warm lights of her bedroom were enough to hide the red that had spread across her cheeks. He detached the clasp and went to stand behind her. She looked back into the mirror as he placed the necklace around her neck. She pushed her hair away, her hand softly brushing against his for a second. His gaze remained fixed on her reflection, the dark brown of his irises looking even warmer in the soft dim light. He looked back at her neck.

“They belonged to my mother.” He said as he fastened the clasp.

She looked at him in the mirror with surprise. He was smiling. A soft, delicate smile. He had rendered her speechless. For the briefest moment, the party didn’t matter, the past few months and everything that had led her there tonight weren’t as important. She was here, now, with him and everything was okay.

She blinked and turned around.

“Lockwood I can’t-”

“It’s nothing, really. Plus, you’ll fit right in tonight looking like this.” He winked, his smile back to its usual wolfish grin. “I’ll go get us a cab, George should be about ready too.”

Before she could protest, he was down the stairs, asking George if was ready, leaving her standing there, a hand resting on the necklace. She looked back at her reflection. The pearls did make her look rich and sophisticated, she admitted to herself. Lockwood had never talked to her about his family. She was incredibly flattered by this gift, and most importantly by the fact that he had opened up, even just a little. The softness of his eyes kept flashing back in her mind. She breathed in deeply, more assured than she was. He had quite an effect on her, she thought. The brush of his skin on hers, his soft breathing in her neck… If only he had stood closer, even just for an instant. She stopped her mind from going any further. The butterflies in her stomach were back and her heart was ready to jump out of her chest, but it’d have to wait. They had a party to attend and some documents to steal.

She came down the stairs to join Lockwood and George, ready to leave. George was adjusting his bowtie in the mirror in the living room. She was surprised to see him look quite dashing.

“George, promise me you’ll make an effort to socialize and be as visible as you can tonight.”

“Easy for you to say, it’ll be second nature for you to be at the center of attention!”

Lockwood laughed as he headed for the door and stopped in his tracks when she entered the room.

“Especially if I have the most gorgeous girl at the party on my arm.” He said after a pause.

She blushed furiously at the remark. He had never complimented her so much, or been so kind to her before. She tried to keep a stiff upper lip, but really she was close to falling on her knees. It was like he loved tormenting her.

They stayed staring at each other in silence, their smiles getting wider every second.

“I think I liked it better when you were fighting.” Said George in an exasperated tone.

Lockwood ignored him as he crossed the room to offer her his arm.

“Shall we?”

---

The ride over to the fundraiser was a silent one, though the three of them were agitated. George kept adjusting his bowtie and cleaning his glasses, y/n checked her lipstick in her pocket mirror every five minutes. Lockwood kept fidgeting, but it wasn’t really unusual for him. While they kept glancing anxiously at the road, he alternatively looked through each window like a toddler wondering if they were there yet. y/n did not share his excitement. She gripped the pearls around her neck and took a deep breath. Lockwood nudged his knee against hers to get her attention.

“It’s gonna go just fine.” He said in a low voice.

She smiled but it was rigid, almost fake. Panic was slowly strengthening its grip on her. What was she supposed to talk about with these people all night? She didn’t have Lockwood’s natural talent and ease when it came to socializing. She was terrified of saying something wrong and making a fool of herself. He rested a hand on her knee, bringing her out of her overwhelming thoughts.

“You’ll be great.”

She reached for his hand as she whispered a low ‘thank you’.

Despite his best efforts to reassure her, the crowd on the sidewalk and the animation coming from the mansion brought back her insecurities. Everyone looked so elegant and influential that she instantly felt out of place.

The look on George’s face reassured her a little bit. She wasn’t the only one desperate to go home. They got out of the cab and mingled in the crowd waiting to check their coats. y/n took a first look at the faces she would have to talk to during the night, trying to recognize anyone that would be easier to talk to. None of them looked like she could have seen them around at Fittes, or clients she could have worked with. She did notice the catering van parked in front of an alleyway next to the house, the waiters and waitresses all gathered next to it. She saw Lucy and Norrie with them, acting professional. Before she could try to get their attention and ask them if they were okay, Lockwood grabbed her arm and led her inside.

The elegance of the hall did not prepare her for the spectacular room in which the event took place. An imposing marble staircase was lit with candles, so many she couldn’t count them all, yet it was only half as much as the ones lighting up the crystal chandelier illuminating the room and taking up half the ceiling. If the Silverpoint Organization was a non-profit, they showed none of it during their receptions. The room was full of eloquent people, as she expected, most of them middle aged. Most men wore a lavender pin on their lapel, but some of them had a silver brooch in the shape of a harp instead. Women wore them too. She didn’t know what it stood for and felt foolish, dreading the interactions to come even more now. Every now and then she saw agents in the crowd. Fittes, Rotwell, Tendy’s, Bunchurch too. Unsure what to do, George and y/n looked expectantly at Lockwood.

“Why don’t you two mingle, I’ll go get us some drinks.” He said cheerfully before leaving them to fend for themselves.

They didn’t have time to protest, he was already lost in the crowd. George turned to her, suggesting that they should make a break for it while they still could. As much as she wished they could leave, she couldn’t bail on their plan now.

“I’ll make hot cocoa with extra whipped cream and those mini marshmallows you love so much!” He insisted with a pleading look.

“As much as I want to, we can’t.”

Before he could add anything that was likely to change her mind, the ringing of glasses rose through the air and soon the room fell silent. At the top of the grand staircase stood a man, stoic while he waited for the last conversations to die out.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” y/n was taken aback by the authority in his voice. She mustn’t have been the only one. The first few guests at the end of the staircase had stood straighter at the words.

“I am Theodor Mullet, chairman of Mullet and Sons and your host for the night,” he continued, “I hope you are all enjoying your evening so far. The music will continue in a moment but first I wanted to thank you all for attending and for your generous donations. As you know, the Silverpoint Organization has been helping our brave agents in the small way it can for over 20 years now.” He went on to describe the actions the Organization had taken over the years, reassuring the attendees that their money would be put to good use. Even though she knew for a fact that the donations in question would be spent on the black market, a part of her couldn’t help but believe he was telling the truth. The way he stood, tall and broad with his dark hair greying on the temples and his black glasses framing his gaze made him look straightforward. He didn’t have the appearance of a lying politician like she expected, instead he looked very matter-of-fact, what you would expect of a businessman at the head of one of the largest companies in the country. As she analyzed his every feature, she noticed that he too wore a silver brooch in the shape of a harp on the lapel of his vest. She wondered what kind of association he shared with the guests she had seen with the same accessory in the crowd.

“It was all the more important to me that all agencies attend this event, as both the Silverpoint Organization and Mullet&Sons want to further our relationship with them and support them all in keeping the nation safe. The courage of those young people is truly worth all our admiration, which is why I invite you all to raise a glass to the bravery of the agents present here with us tonight. May all agencies, big or small, defeat the Problem.” He raised his glass to the audience, and all guests followed suit. Many people were now staring at her and George with a mix of respect and pity.

“I could really use a drink… Where is Lockwood?” She said, turning towards George to avoid looking at the rest of the crowd.

“I don’t know… I think I’ll go try the buffet.”

y/n was too nervous to eat anything, especially with all this unwanted attention directed towards her. It didn’t seem to matter to George who was already gone before she could tell him that. She went her separate way to look for Lockwood in the crowd. It wouldn’t have surprised her if she found him charming some prestigious guests with dazzling stories about one of their cases. He was made for this after all and he had a knack for embellishing random anecdotes, turning them into thrilling quests. She tried to break through the crowd as respectfully as she could, overhearing small talk about what a fantastic man Theodor Mullet was or vivid debates about what the Organization’s next actions should be. She grew desperate the longer she looked. Without Lockwood, she didn’t think she could manage talking about those topics for an entire evening.

Relief flooded her when she spotted him next to the bar, glasses in hand. She got closer and stopped a few feet away, frozen. Her already dreadful evening turned even worse. She watched as El gently but confidently stroked his arm, throwing their head back in an exaggerated laughter that rose above the commotion. They did always have a flare for the dramatic. Lockwood smiled politely, but she couldn’t tell if he was genuinely enjoying talking to them. She dismissed the idea immediately. El was too proud, too flashy and overall, too much and Lockwood couldn’t enjoy the company of someone like this. Or could he? He looked around the room but didn’t notice the small sign she gave him, discreetly asking if he needed help. Before she could try something else, he was drawn back into the conversation, El clinging to his arm more every passing second. The knot in her stomach tightened.

She looked over at the buffet where George was having a better time than she was, enjoying the canapes that Lucy and Norrie or some of their colleagues for the night had brought out. She tried to spot the girls to make sure everything was fine but she couldn’t find them among the waiters. When she looked back over at Lockwood, El had placed a hand on his chest, now stroking his tie. She reached them in two strides, not minding the people previously in her way.

“There you are!” She pressed a kiss on his cheek. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Thank you for getting me a drink!” She said as she reached for the second glass he had in hand, interlocking her arm with his.

She looked up to see the confused look on his face. She ignored it and stared at El with feigned surprise.

“Oh… long time no see.”

El was staring back with barely hidden disgust.

“So you two are-”

“I heard you didn’t make it into Kipps’ team…” She didn’t let them finish. “That’s too bad.”

Their eyes darkened at that mention.

“I’ve moved on to better things.”

y/n huffed as she rolled her eyes.

“I’ve been working closely with Mrs. Dufour actually.” They said with a proud smirk. “It pays really well. And I get to meet a lot of influential people… Very influential. If I were you, I’d watch my back.”

She was barely surprised at that revelation.

“I see your loyalty hasn’t changed. At least it looks like your nose just about recovered, that’s a relief.” She forced a smile. Lockwood was staring at her with confusion, not saying a word.

She started to turn away, dragging Lockwood by the hand with her, when they forcefully grabbed her arm.

“I’m sorry your late-night encounter with Rasler didn’t manage to drive you out of town. Maybe next time I’ll finish the job myself.”

Lockwood untangled his arm and came to stand between them. His features were sharper than usual, his jaw clenched in anger. Even when they had particularly bad fights, he never looked so stern.

“Oh you have your prince charming coming to your rescue now! How adorable.”

They both were about to protest when El continued.

“Please don’t make a scene, this a class A event after all.” They looked back at her. “Not that you should get used to that, y/n.”

El then turned away and headed for the bar.

“Are you okay?” Lockwood asked her, worried.

“I should be the one to ask you that. How long were you stuck talking to them?”

He instinctively offered her his arm as they walked away from the scene.

“They ambushed me right after the speech. You have some very questionable acquaintances.”

“Well, I did punch them in the face, it made the inconvenience more palatable.”

She was about to take a sip of her champagne when Lockwood stopped abruptly, making her almost spill her drink. He looked at his reflection in one of the mirrors adorning the room before turning towards her.

“y/n, have I been walking around with your lipstick on my cheek for the past ten minutes?”

She laughed, louder than she had meant, only now paying attention to the very defined dark red shape of her lips on his pale skin.

“That’s not funny I look ridiculous!”

“It’s a little bit funny.” She said gasping for air. “Admit it!”

He smiled, but the blush on his cheeks betrayed his embarrassment.

“It’ll come off easily I swear!” She said, dragging him out of the ballroom to look for a bathroom.

He kept his hand on his cheek, trying to hide the source of his shame. y/n had stopped laughing, the realization of what she had done only hitting her now. It was her turn to blush. She wasn’t thinking, she acted on instinct. But why did her instinct have to make her do this in particular?

They reached a corridor lit with golden sconces on the wall. The light was softer here, giving the space a more intimate atmosphere.

“Was the kiss really necessary?” Lockwood asked in a lower voice now that they were further from the crowd.

She forced her embarrassment down and used all the courage she could muster to look in his eyes. His smirk betrayed the seriousness of his tone. He was messing with her.

“Next time I’ll let you fend for yourself.” She answered.

“Do you have many more nemeses I should be on the lookout for?”

“No, I don’t. Unless Dufour decides to go for someone half her age.” She joked.

“I should be safe from this kind of situation then.”

She looked through every door, looking for any room that would have a sink or a vanity, anything to help save his case.

“I wouldn’t be too sure of that if I were you.” She said absentmindedly, opening yet another door. “You’re young, attractive, you own your company… How come in a place as big as this one none of these doors are bathrooms?”

“You think I’m-”

“Ah! There we are, finally!” She led him into the powder room. She looked for a tissue or anything that would help him get the lipstick stain off. The room matched the elegance of the mansion, fancy soaps and cloth towels displayed next to the sink for the comfort of the guests. She ran a hand towel under the faucet, added some soap and handed it to Lockwood. He stared at her for a few seconds, before reaching for it. He rubbed the cloth on his face, staining it red. Somehow, he made the mark bigger, spreading it across his whole cheek. She laughed as he helplessly looked up at her in the mirror.

“This is all your fault, need I remind you.”

He tried to look upset, but soon he laughed with her at the scene, mocking his own reflection.

“I look like a clown.”

She took the cloth out of his hand and told him to crouch a little so she could take care of it. He leaned slightly against the sink, enough to meet her at eye level. She gently lifted and turned his chin to clean the rest of her lipstick off. He looked at her softly while she worked. She tried to ignore him or the way the soft bathroom light made his eyes sparkle. His eyelashes looked longer somehow. Maybe it was because she was seeing them from so close.

“There.” She said softly. “It’s gone.”

She looked back into his eyes. He was already staring. He smiled softly but didn’t say anything.

“You could thank me, you know?”

“For cleaning up your mess? Do you want a medal too?” He smiled wider. She laughed.

“You jerk!” She threw the towel at him, without doing much damage as it was thrown from so close. “I could also make it worse.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He said defiantly.

She held his stare, becoming increasingly aware of their proximity. Heat creeped up her cheeks, but she didn’t want to move. Instead, she leaned into it, inching ever so slightly closer to him. She rested her hand on the edge of the sink, her fingers meeting the warmth of the back of his hand instead. He opened his palm and wrapped his fingers around hers. He subtly parted his lips, making her look at them then back into his eyes. He did the same. His other hand came to rest on her waist. His touch was delicate and soft, yet it was enough to send shivers down her back. It reached the small of her back, bringing her slowly closer to him, his eyes still focused on hers.

The door suddenly opened, making them both jump up in surprise.

“This isn’t the bathroom!” He man said loudly in the hallway before shutting the door.

She instinctively checked her hair in the mirror. Lockwood stood straighter, clearing his throat. She looked back at him with a thin smile, hoping the dim light hid her crimson cheeks.

“Thank you… for your help.”

“Oh you’re welcome!” She stammered. “You’re very welcome.”

They stood awkwardly, not sure what to do next.

“y/n… Do you…”

“I- uh we should go.”

She exited the room, flushed and a little disoriented. Lockwood called after her, asking her to wait. She wanted to turn back, desperately so, but a voice inside her head kept her from it. They were colleagues, she reminded herself. The voice of reason that had snuck into her head the morning after they fell asleep on the couch came screaming back, listing everything that was questionable about her behaviour. She never would have dared anything like this when she was at Fittes’. Lockwood’s recklessness was rubbing off on her and her conscience wasn’t having any of it. Her crush was inappropriate and now was certainly not the time to get lost in it. She headed back towards the ballroom to make sure enough guests witnessed her presence, but Lockwood caught up with her, reaching for her hand.

“y/n wait, please. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have…”

She looked back at him, her face still flushed from the moment they had shared.

“No, it’s me. I let my feelings get the best of me. We should really head back before someone notices we’re missing.” She said as she tried to regain composure.

“Your… feelings?” He asked, intrigued. He tried to act casual, but a grin had already formed at the corner of his mouth.

She didn’t think it was possible to be more embarrassed but here she was. She looked at him with wide eyes, realizing what had slipped out of her mouth and hurried back to the reception, hoping that the night wouldn’t get any worse. She heard Lockwood run after her and she instinctively hid among the guests in response. She grabbed a glass of champagne being served by one of the waiters and swallowed it down in full gulps. If anything else didn’t go as expected, at least she would find it funny. She spotted George still standing next to the buffet. He was joined by Lockwood a few minutes later, who still scanned the crowd, she guessed he was looking for her. She turned her back to him to avoid his eyes and knocked into someone. She apologized profusely, silently cursing this night and everything that had led her there in the first place.

“y/n? What are you doing here?”

She looked up to see her old team leader standing there, glass of champagne in hand, wearing a tuxedo that somehow made him look even more intimidating than his grey uniform.

“Kipps! Hi!” She answered.

“I didn’t expect to see you here tonight!”

“Me neither if I’m honest. You’re here to represent Fittes I’m guessing?”

“Officially yes.” He said, but his voice had an edge.

“Officially?”

“I’m actually glad to see you again. I could use your insight on something.” He added in a growingly ominous tone.

“Kipps, what’s going on?” She asked impatiently.

“Yeah Kipps, what’s going on?” said a voice behind her. She didn’t need to turn around to know that Lockwood was looking down at him with the smug look he always had when he fed into that ridiculous rivalry of theirs.

“Not now Tony, I need y/n’s advice on something.”

“Oh really? And what would that be, Kipps? Put your team members in unfathomable danger again? How many children have you traumatized this time?”

“Lockwood, please. This is important.” She had no idea what Kipps wanted her advice on, but she wasn’t ready to face Lockwood yet. She wouldn’t be for a while. She looked up at him to silently tell him to go. He looked back at her and his smile vanished. She didn’t think this would hurt him, but however ridiculous his fight with Kipps was, his pride was taking a hit having to walk away. It didn’t help that Kipps added insult to injury with snobbish remarks, not caring how childish it made him look.

She started to walk towards an empty corner of the room, grabbing another glass on her way. Kipps followed closely.

“What is this all about Kipps?”

“I’m not just here to represent Fittes.” He paused significantly, as if he enjoyed building some kind of suspense around his intentions. “I’m trying to collect more information on Dufour.”

She stayed quiet for a minute as she tried to process what all it implied. On the one hand, they had a potential new ally in this mess. On the other hand, Kipps could make their whole plan fail and this would not end well. She took another sip to calm her nerves and frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“y/n, you never needed to tell me what happened for me to understand that she fired you because you got in the way.”

A new wave of panic washed over her. She hadn’t told him the whole story, she reminded herself. And she hadn’t seen him since that awful article had been published to humiliate her. There was no way he could have come to the same conclusions.

“I mean, you noticed a lot earlier than me how strange she was acting. After that article came out, I kept an eye on her when I could. There was more and more chatter among supervisors about her. Many clients had started complaining and it was reaching higher level executives. It was pretty obvious where all of this was heading.” He said in a sly tone. She finished her glass. Maybe he had.  

“She’s getting fired and tries to find a job with the Organization!” He concluded, congratulating his deduction skills. At least he wasn’t onto them. She was about to ask what kind of advice he expected her to give him when he started monologuing again. He visibly hadn’t told anyone about this and was getting too enthusiastic finally sharing his theories.

“I’ve already talked to a few guests about this, subtly mind you. I try to stay discreet on this whole thing. I managed to talk to one of the members of the Organization and left him with plenty to think about.” He said with a grin.

“What do you… I mean, what kind of advice are you looking for exactly?”

“Well let’s just say that the few anecdotes I shared tonight might jeopardize some of Dufour’s opportunities.” He winked at her. “I didn’t really need your advice, I just wanted to tell you that what she did is unforgivable, and she had no right to take you off my team. I’m just making sure she pays her dues.”

Apparently in Dufour’s case karma had a name and it was Quill F. Kipps. She smiled and the alcohol made her laugh much more than anticipated. She held onto him as she threw her head back in a fit of laughter, tears starting to prickle the corner of her eyes.

“That’s really sweet of you Kipps, thank you.” She said when her breathing evened out.

“I was proud to have you on my team y/n.” He said, raising his glass. She grabbed another one on a tray a waiter was passing around to clink a glass with his.

“You know,” She said, taking another sip, “I was always so intimidated by you. I was constantly trying to impress you.”

“Well, you did.”

Even though they hadn’t worked together in months, his recognition still made her feel queasy. Or maybe she was drunker than she realized. She looked away, searching for her reflection to make sure she wasn’t as red as she felt she was. Instead, she saw Lockwood watching the whole scene.

“Would you like to dance, maybe?” Kipps asked behind her.

She looked back at him, unable to refuse after what he had done for her. They headed towards the dancing crowd and when she looked back, Lockwood was gone. She tried to focus on her steps and not let him distract her movements. Her head was dangerously dizzy and if it was not for Kipps’ arm around her waist she would have fallen down twice already.

The song felt like it was going on forever, her feet were killing her and a headache started to hurt her temples. After another spin, she spotted Norrie’s red hair from afar, tray in hand and a wide smile on her face. She locked eyes with her and winked before heading back towards the buffet. Did Lucy manage to get the documents? She tried to look around to see if George or Lockwood had the folder. There were so many faces to look at. She lost her balance and tripped, saved by her dancing partner’s quick reflexes.

“y/n are you okay? You should drink some water.” He said as he led her towards the bar. He helped her sit down and brought her a glass, checking if she was alright. He never let go of her hand the whole time.

“I’m fine, I think I just had too much champagne.”

She barely had the time to take a sip of water when a familiar voice resonated behind her.

“What the hell did you do to her?”

She felt Lockwood place his arm behind her back, his touch just as warm as it had been a few hours earlier. His other hand reached her chin, making her look up at him with sleepy eyes.

“Did he make you drink too much?” He asked her in a softer tone, worry filling his voice.

“This is ridiculous!” Kipps answered.

“You shut up!”

“Come on Tony, throwing a tantrum because I danced with your girlfriend, seriously?”

“You-”

“Lockwood! I’m okay, I swear.” She intervened. “Kipps you’ve been great tonight. Thank you for everything, but don’t ruin it now.” She squeezed his hand before letting go. She turned back towards Lockwood. “Maybe we should go now? The first guests seem to be leaving too.”

He hadn’t stopped glaring towards Kipps. When he looked back down at her, he sighed before agreeing.

“Why don’t you go look for George? I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He seemed surprised at her words, like he couldn’t conceive letting her alone with Kipps any longer. He pressed his hand against her back before heading towards the hall. She stood back up, struggling with the height of her heals. Kipps helped her up, holding her still as she tried to find her balance.

“Thank you for everything, Kipps. I never thought you would help me get revenge on Dufour and I have to say that I greatly appreciate it.”

“I tried being the bigger person but it didn’t work out too well for me.”

She teased him once more about the childish fight he had with Lockwood, not convinced that he could ever be the bigger person. They laughed, and she felt truly happy at the comradery they shared. She offered to meet him some time for coffee. He agreed and told her she should probably get back to her boss to avoid any trouble at home. She answered that he was annoying as they hugged goodbye and he ruffled her hair in exchange. With a smile, she headed towards the entrance where Lockwood was already waiting with her coat in hand.

As soon as they got in the car, Lockwood pulled a folder out of his jacket. His smile was radiant as he went over the numbers. They were more than enough to put the Organization in trouble, and hopefully Dufour with it too. As enthusiastic as he was, they were too exhausted to be receptive. George swore he would never set foot in this kind of event ever again while y/n struggled to stay awake.

“I’d rather fight thirteen limbless than talk to another member of that stupid organization.” He exclaimed, shuffling in his seat, disturbing her as she rested her head against the window. There was no time for her to fall asleep, as the cab was already slowing down in front of the house.

George practically jumped out of the car, eager to go to bed to “put this horrible night behind him”. She didn’t know what happened that made him so irritable, but she was sure she had missed something while she was talking to Kipps. Lockwood stepped out next, waiting beside the door to help her out. It was out of necessity more than chivalry since her knees buckled when she stood up. Never leaving her side, he helped her up the stairs into the hall. She started walking or rather stumbling towards the stairs when Lockwood stopped her in her tracks.

“You should drink at least two full glasses of water before sleeping.”

She didn’t answer and simply pouted like a child.

“Fine, if you can walk up to the attic on your own, I won’t make you drink water.”

She gave him an exaggerated smile and immediately tripped over the first step. He put his arm around her and led her towards the kitchen.

She rested against the countertop while he poured her a glass from the tap. She drank it all and he filled it up again. She smiled lazily. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him. He stared back, making sure she drank it all. The stood there for a few minutes in a comfortable silence, wordlessly getting lost in each other’s eyes.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” She said while tilting her head to the side.

It was a bad call. She couldn’t even move her head without being a fall risk.

He caught her just in time, as he always had this evening, and held her closer to start the long climb to the attic. She rested her face against his chest, nestling and taking comfort in his reassuring scent.

“Oh no…” She muttered under her breath.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’m putting make-up all over your shirt.” Her voice was sad but she made no move to try and stop it.

“It’s not the first time you put your make-up all over me tonight, darling. I think I’ll be alright.”

After the first flight of stairs, she slouched even more against him. Instead of taking the way up to the attic, he led her towards the opposite end of the hallway in his room. She didn’t register until he laid her down on his bed. The blanket she felt underneath her fingertips wasn’t the same texture as the one she had gotten used to.

“Lockwood I can’t sleep in your bed.” She mumbled, her face pressed into a pillow.

“Of course you can. You’re half asleep already.”

“Yeah but-”

“I’ll go sleep in your bed for tonight.”

She muttered an “okay” barely audible, drifting in and out of consciousness.

“I think that’s enough drinking and dancing for a while.” He said as he pressed a soft kiss against her temple.

“Hardly, I didn’t even get to dance with you!” Her eyelids started to close. “You’re the only one I wanted to dance with.”

She closed her eyes and fell asleep instantly, not noticing when Lockwood exited the room quietly.

---

She woke up to the sound of hammers from the construction across the street. The sun burned her eyes and a painful headache pressed her forehead when she tightly closed her eyelids. She reached for the closest pillow and buried her head under it, hoping to draw out the hurtful sound and the blinding light. It didn’t do much, but it had the perk of surrounding her with a familiar comforting scent. She didn’t know how long she stayed like this. She remembered this wasn’t her room and she was surprised that no one had come in yet. She turned on her side and opened her eyes carefully. The first thing she saw was a glass of water resting on the bedside table. The second was Lockwood’s clothes from last night hanging on the back of his chair. She stared at them for a while, wondering if he had been comfortable enough to change in the same room she was passed out in. While she was sleeping in his bed, nonetheless. She tried the best she could to sit up. Drinking on an empty stomach had not done her any favor. There wasn’t much chance she would get anything done today. She drank the glass left for her and rose up with great difficulty.

Everything hurt. She made her way down the stairs, and by the time she reached the kitchen someone had made her a plate with warm toast. It was sitting on the table at the seat she usually took but there was no one around to greet her. She forced herself to eat even though her stomach wasn’t cooperative and drank as much water as she could, hoping it would help getting over her hangover. The house was quiet. It was a nice change from the noises that had woken her up but it was unsettling not hearing any sign of life. Usually when she thought she was alone she would still hear Lockwood training in the basement or George mutter something under his breath while researching a case. It was rare that the both of them left at the same time. She wondered where they could have gone as she made her way back up the stairs. She passed the library and the turning of pages made her turn around. Lockwood was sitting in his armchair, flipping through his magazine the way he usually did in the late hours of the night after a case. He was impeccable as always and she felt acutely self-conscious standing there at the beginning of the afternoon with messy hair and probably runny make-up all over her face. If he looked up from his magazine she didn’t pay him any attention and ran upstairs to try and look more presentable, no matter how awful she felt.

“Are you feeling better?” He asked when she came back down, not looking up from what he was reading. She took the sit next to him.

“As good as I can.” She answered, massaging her temples.

He pushed forward a glass of water on the table between them.

“Where’s George?” She asked between two sips.

“I sent him to deliver the documents to DEPRAC. I thought he was better suited to leave it anonymously with a semblance of discretion. If Barnes ever saw me there, we could never get away with it.”

“Smart.” She had avoided his eyes the entire time. The entire night was blurry, but the alcohol had not erased the specific memories she was trying to ignore. They stayed in an uncomfortable silence until he finished his magazine, eventually closing it and putting it back on the table between them. The ghost-jar was back into the fireplace, covered in ashes with burn marks here and there. She wondered when George had found the time to keep experimenting on it with how busy they had been these past few weeks. Instead of making its usual horrible faces it simply stared at her. It looked over at Lockwood who didn’t seem to pay him no mind, then back at her with that same insistent stare. It made her even more uncomfortable than the heavy silence filling the room. When she got up to get away from it, it smiled. A crude and devilish smile. What a horrid wretched thing. She was too distracted to realize that Lockwood had followed her into the hall.

“y/n, about last night…”

Before she could turn around, the entire chain of events flashed before her eyes. What part did he want to talk about: her drunken state, the night she spent in his bed, the lipstick mark she left on his cheek or the way she almost kissed him? She couldn’t pick which would be more embarrassing. She didn’t want to talk about any of it either. She didn’t even want to think about it, though this part was harder than it looked. Heat rose to her cheeks at the memory of his hand around her waist in that first-floor bathroom. After behaving so recklessly, a conversation like this was bound to happen. They might as well get it over with.

“I just wanted to say…”

When she finally mustered the courage to look him in the eye, the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it!” She said, hurrying to open the door.

It was Kipps, coming to see if she was feeling better.

“I’m doing alright! Thanks for checking in.”

“I brought you some chocolate chip cookies from a bakery near my flat. Thought they could help.”

“That’s sweet of you Kipps but we’re a doughnut family here.” Lockwood said before snatching the bag out of his hands, coming behind her to wave Kipps away. Kipps ignored him and turned his attention back to her.

“If you’re feeling okay maybe we could grab that cup of coffee you talked about last night?”

“Thanks but I’m still feeling a bit sick, I’d love to go out when I’m fully recovered though!”

“Sure, give me a call when you’re free. Take care, alright?”

“I will, thank you.”

She waved back at him as he left and slowly closed the door behind her. Lockwood was standing silently at the bottom of the stairs.

“You asked Kipps to get coffee after what happened last night?”

“Yes, he’s been a real friend to me. He’s helping me with Dufour without me asking.”

“What do you mean he’s helping you? Have you been cooperating with him behind our backs?”

“Of course not! I just found out he’s been giving her bad press.”

“So, it wasn’t a date then?”

“Are you jealous of Quill Kipps?” She asked with a laugh.

“How dare you say something like that under my roof!”

They both smiled at the situation, easing the tension that was there a few minutes earlier.

“But seriously, y/n. I wanted to apologize about last night. I never meant to make anything weird or-”

“Can we just say that we both acted dumb?”

He took a few seconds to consider her offer.

“Well, you started it.” He grinned.

She looked at him defiantly. She would not take the fall for this, even though her unrequited crush was definitely to blame.

“Didn’t you call me darling last night?”

He blushed at the mention, only saved by the front door opening and letting George in, followed closely by Inspector Barnes. The intrusion of the DEPRAC representative took them aback. They stared mutely back and forth between George and the inspector, waiting for an explanation. The man stared back at them, a familiar folder in hand. Without saying a word, Lockwood led him to the living room. y/n closed the door before joining them. Barnes stood in the middle of the room, glaring between them, holding up the folder and pointing it accusingly at Lockwood.

“I don’t want to know how you could have gotten your hand on these documents.”

“I’ve never seen that folder before in my life.” Lockwood replied, feigning innocence.

“Shut it! I don’t care how you did it, I know it was you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have caught Karim here sneaking out of Scotland Yard after an ‘anonymous contribution’ was made for the case you seem to be tied to.” He glared in her direction to punctuate his words. After holding her stare in an anger-fueled silence, he looks down in resignation. “As much as I hate to admit it, this evidence makes our case stronger against the Silverpoint Organization.”

She couldn’t help a thin smile to form on her lips. She looked back at Lockwood, relieved. He was already looking back at her with a soft smile. He winked before looking back at Barnes with a proud smile.

“Don’t even dare congratulate yourselves for this. Next time you step out of line, one mistake and I revoke your license and shut down this agency for good.”

They all looked down, trying to hide their joy at hearing that their plan had worked. After a few more minutes of silent scolding, the inspector aimed for the door.

“An audit of the organization’s finances will start in a few days and we’ll probably put an end to your surveillance.” He turned back. “That does not mean that you should get back to breaking any law-”

“Does that mean that Dufour will be arrested soon?” y/n couldn’t help asking, interrupting Barnes who had an exasperated look on his face. He sighed.

“Unfortunately, like any person involved in relic dealings the only evidence that can guarantee an arrest are catching the perpetrators in the act. I’m afraid Mrs. Dufour will remain free for now.” He didn’t seem as frustrated as she was. Probably because this kind of injustice was commonplace in his line of work. Still, her highest hopes came crashing down. The rollercoaster from the joy of their success to this disillusion made her sick.

“Oh.” She simply said.

“I’ll do my best to get her complaint against you dropped. Don’t get the idea of putting yourself in any more danger to get more evidence yourself. Am I clear?”

“Perfectly clear, inspector.”

The three of them led him back to the front door. When she closed it behind him, George and Lockwood both placed an arm around her.

“We’ll figure something out.” Lockwood said. “I promise.”

“It’s alright.” She said in a flat tone. “I’ll go lie down for a while, I think I’m still sick from the champagne.”

As she went up the stairs, her mind was already reeling. If Barnes couldn’t get the evidence he needed to put Dufour away for good, she’d find a way to do it herself.

#who follows the rules anyway #ukuwrites #lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #george karim #lucy carlyle #norrie white #quill kipps #montagu barnes #save lockwood and co

[ghostlystyles]

𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

anthony lockwood x gn!reader

anthony lockwood can definitely be a drama queen

request: Hi, could you do an Anthony Lockwood x reader where the reader is extremely exhausted and ends up passing out during a mission and Anthony gets really worried about the reader? Thanks :D

tessa’s notes: thank you anon for sending in the first request i’ve ever gotten, i hope this is what you had in mind :)

warnings: fluff, swearing, blood, sleep deprivation, fainting, a bit of angst?, canon typical violence, comment if i missed any <3

word count: 1,5k

— YOU OPENED THE door of 35 Portland Row in the middle of the night for what had to be the twentieth time that month and saw a middle-aged couple standing on your doorstep. “Lockwood & Co?” the man asked. “Yeah, that’s us. How can we help you?” you yawned, leaning against the open door. “Our house is haunted and it’s keeping us up at night. We figured you might be able to help us.”

You led the couple towards the kitchen and made them a cup of tea. “Oi, get up! There’s people here!” you called and not long after your three friends joined you at the dining table.

“So, tell us about what’s haunting your house,” Lockwood started, placing his ankle on his thigh. He wore a black, graphic jumper, joggers and his hair was messy. Although liking it, you’d been begging him for months to lose the suit every once in a while and usually midnight was the only time you got to see it, so you couldn’t help but grin.

“Well— we don’t know. We know there’s two but we’ve never seen them, only heard,” the woman explained. “And what did you hear?” you asked, leaning your head onto your hands with your eyelids heavy.

“Just— knocks on the walls and, we constantly have this feeling of crippling anxiety and fear and— we always feel like we’re being followed,” the man answered in detail. “Okay, that sounds like a Type One, so you don’t have to worry. We could get the job done tomorrow evening.”

“We actually don’t have a place to stay, we assumed you could just get it done right away.”

“That— okay. It might be possible, but it will cost significantly more as it’s extremely last minute.”

“That would be great, thank you so much. Money’s not an issue, we’ll pay you any reasonable price.”

“I’ll have to discuss it with my partners, if you’ll excuse us,” Lockwood nodded professionally as the four of you got up and walked into the corridor.

“What do you guys think?” he asked. “I think I could do it, they’re only Type Ones,” Lucy shrugged. “Well, I’d prefer it if I had time to research, but I guess it could work,” George added, rubbing his eyes. “And you, Y/N?”

“I— yeah, sure. I reckon I just need a coffee and then we can get to work,” you yawned, leaning against the wall to support your legs. “You sure? You’re not sleeping well as it is and you’re starting to look like a ghost yourself,” Lucy frowned worriedly. “A friendly ghost, I hope, but it’s fine, it’ll earn us some good money,” you joked. “I really don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N, we should just tell them no,” George added. “Yeah, are you really sure? We can wait until the morning. We don’t owe those people anything,” Lockwood pitched in. “Yes, Lockwood! I promise it’s fine! It won’t take long anyway.”

— THE FOUR OF you slowly entered the house that belonged to the couple. “Lockwood and I will take the upstairs, you take the downstairs?” you whispered as you looked around cautiously. “You two gotta stick together, huh?” Lucy nudged you playfully. “Oh, fuck off,” you rolled your eyes with a smile. You always got the same response, but it just made sense. Lockwood had excellent Sight, and you were a pretty good Listener, George was average on all talents, but Lucy was an outstanding Listener.

“Does everyone have all their stuff?” Lockwood asked, with his hands in his pockets and you all nodded. “Okay, then let’s stop fucking around and get this done.”

Lockwood quickly walked up the stairs and you followed him, frankly a lot less quickly, as your limbs felt heavy on your body. “Y/N! You coming?” Lockwood stopped at the top of the stairs when he noticed you weren’t next to him anymore. “Yes, just give me a moment,” you muttered, stifling back another yawn. “Are you sure you’re okay?” Lockwood asked once more, his face coated in worry. “Yes, Lockwood, how many times? Just, stop worrying about me for a second!” you grumbled as you strolled further onto the first floor.

“I— Jesus, I was just making sure you weren’t gonna faint or something,” Lockwood muttered, slightly taken aback. "Wait, shh—," you whispered as you covered Lockwood's mouth with your hands. "I hear something."

You closed your eyes and focused, so you could hear the sound better. You heard the soft shuffling of bony feet and echoing sighs, but you couldn't quite tell where it came from. "I'm pretty sure it's a Stalker," you concluded. “Where is it?” Lockwood asked. “I don’t know… I can’t tell,” you said, you squeezed your eyes shut, but it felt like your head was stuffed with cotton. Likely because of the sleep deprivation, but you’d never admit that, of course. The two of you started walking in the direction of one of the rooms and warily looked around. You closed your eyes, but you’d lost the sound of footsteps.

“I think we chose the wrong direction,” you muttered and Lockwood nodded in agreement. You walked out of the room and back into the corridor, when you were suddenly overtaken by dizziness and a sick feeling. You halted for a moment and took a deep breath, but the feeling didn’t go away. Instead, black spots started filling your peripheral vision and slowly spread their way to the center of your gaze. “Lockwood… I don’t feel so good,” you trembled, before everything went black.

“Y/N!” Lockwood exclaimed as he heard your body collapse with the ground and he rushed over to you, cradling your face in his hands. “Y/N?” he croaked as he brushed your hair out of your face. After about half a minute, your eyes fluttered open and you saw Lockwood’s face hover over you. “Hi,” he gave you a watery smile and his expression shifted from anxious to relieved.

You slowly sat up and immediately felt like vomiting, as your limbs were aching and your head was pounding from the fall. “Hey, hey, slow down,” Lockwood whispered tenderly, “how are you feeling?”

“Everything hurts,” you said, when you felt something warm dripping down your cheeks. Lockwood’s gaze slightly shifted and he gasped when he saw the huge gash across your nose bridge. “What happened?” you winced, feeling the wound sting. “I don’t— you must’ve hit your head on the banister or something,” Lockwood worried with wide eyes, “we should take you to the hospital, that probably needs stitches.”

“No way! I’m not letting someone sew my skin like it’s a piece of fabric!”

“It’ll be okay, I promise. George, Luce and I wil be there the whole time and besides, it’s gonna leave one badass scar.”

— A TRIP TO the hospital and a fuckton of stitches later, Lockwood was carrying you bridal style down the streets of London. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone get this injured on a Type One mission,” Lucy chuckled. “Be nice to me Luce, I fainted and smacked my head into a banister,” you laughed, hitting her shoulder. “I suggest we all just listen to me next time, because I get really scared when people faint,” George sighed. “Oh, you should've seen Lockwood, Georgie. He looked at me as if I was dying.”

“Look, in my defence, I didn’t know what happened. For all I knew, you could’ve had a knife in your back and were slowly bleeding out,” Lockwood scoffed. “I’m just kidding, it was very sweet of you,” you reassured him as you patted his cheek. “You’re always so dramatic,” Lucy smiled, as she nudged Lockwood with her shoulder and he gave her a side-eye. “Anyway, when we get home, you’re going to bed and you’re not coming out of there until I say so,” Lockwood started, looking down at you, “and I’m going to find those people and try to rake up the price by a lot, so we don’t have to open the door in the middle of the night again.”

“That seems like a good idea, I’ll go with you,” George said and Lockwood nodded approvingly. “Why did it take me nearly perishing at the hands of a fucking banister for us to realise that taking clients in the middle of the night is a terrible idea?” you laughed loudly, throwing your head back. “Aha! So you do admit that you very nearly died and I have the right to be concerned about you and your well-being!” Lockwood exclaimed as he slightly swung you, making you scream and tightly hold onto him.

Lucy caught George’s gaze and shook her head with a smile, “we really should’ve waited until the morning.”

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood blurb #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood fic #anthony lockwood fluff #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood & co #lockwood & co netflix #lockwood & co x reader #cameron chapman #x reader #x gn reader

[shadowbriar]

Anthony Lockwood - I Love You So

Pairing : (F/M) || Anthony Lockwood x TouchGifted!Reader Word Count : 5.7k. Damn I’m on fire this time. Warning : Mention of blood and injury. Angst. Possible OOC as I haven’t read the books. Not proofread. Synopsis : The ambition they’ve nurtured for years finally start to create a space between them, straining their relationship that turns what once were friends into colleagues. Notes : Inspired by The Walters - I Love You So. This song is very Lockwood coded for me, I recommend listening to it while reading. Please help and try to save Lockwood & co by using the hashtag #SaveLockwoodAndCo on social medias and don’t forget to vote for them on National Film Award 2023. You can check my friend Paulina’s tweet to see how. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Her fingers trace the writings on the thinking cloth, lips unintentionally curved into a smile whenever George's silly comment or Lucy's mocking remarks were visible. Their early bicker about their planning process replays in her head. She's always been one to easily record information in her head, no further recall or revising needed for her to proceed with their plans, but given her troublesome nights lately, supposed a late night go over with a cup of tea would be a brilliant idea.

“Trouble sleeping?”

She looks up, welcomed by smiling Lockwood who's leaning by the kitchen door, “Something like that.”

“Why didn't you come to the library?”

“Wasn't in the mood for a late night quarrel with you.”

She shot him a playful smile, earning a light chuckle that didn't sound like it was heartfelt. Just enough to let her know that he understood her sarcasm.

Lockwood steps in, pouring himself a cup of tea and sitting across her. She could feel his eyes trained on her, taking in every detail and admiring it as he wouldn't do it during the day. For whatever reason that might be, she wasn't sure. But it wasn't like he ever professed any feelings for her. For all she knows he might just be spacing out and planning something in his head completely unrelated to her.

He calls her name.

Not looking up to meet his eyes, she hums, “Hm?”

“We're good.. Aren't we?”

No, no we aren't, she thought. He might not notice it but the distance growing between them has been eating her alive. She wasn't sure when it started nor what exactly is the cause for her invisible wound, but something's changed between them. He would be there in the morning when they eat breakfast, would be there when they watch their late night show on the telly, but Lockwood has been anything but a friend to her. He's turned into a stranger she hardly recognise. There was a wall between them, one she couldn't climb nor break through, and it's maddening that she couldn't fix it or talk about it.

Because what exactly changed? She doesn't know.

“Of course.” She faked a smile, feigning her most believable tender tone “What makes you think we're not?”

Lockwood opens his mouth before closing it again, sealing it with a smile as if he thinks it would be better to entertain her lies, “Nothing. Just wanted to be sure.”

She nods, looking back down to the thinking cloth.

“Will you join me tonight?” He asks again, nervousness bleeds through his tone. This wouldn't be the first time he asks her to sleep with him, just to hold each other until the sun rises, but for some reason it feels much more nerve racking than the countless previous. Perhaps because for the first time, her answer might not be pleasant to his ear “We can discuss further about the plan. Maybe my rambling can help you drift to slumber.”

“Not tonight, Anthony.”

It's taken her every willpower to not look up and take her words back. She can imagine the disappointment in his eyes when she hears him let out a sigh. She's avoiding him now. Perhaps scared to actually feel the distance between them when she lays on his bed, no longer feeling the safety of his embrace.

“Alright,” He mutters as he stands and pushes his chair “Don't stay up too late, we need you sharp and alert for tomorrow's job.”

Again, she only replies with a nod.

When the doorknob lightly clicks, she lets out a breath she wasn't even aware she was holding. Her eyes now avert to the door, where he was standing just a few minutes ago with that proud smile and tired eyes. He looks the same, the very same Anthony John Lockwood who'd caused them numerous troubles on the field, the very same Anthony who's ego seems to inflate whenever a rapier is at hand, the very same boy she's been madly in love with for years.

There were moments when she thought that the water flows both ways. When he would hug her first after winning a fencing tournament, or when he would hold her after a terrible nightmare, or simply when he would give her freshly cut toasts for breakfast. The little things one would not notice as something sentimental after years of growing up together. But she does. She notices.

Perhaps had even taken things too seriously when it might just mean nothing for him.

She lets out a sigh, running her fingers through her hair and rubbing her temples gently. It might just be nothing, she tries to convince herself, it might just be the stress of work for both of us. With the agency's growing popularity and demands of clients that never seem to end, perhaps all her troubles were just caused by it. That nothing is wrong between her and Lockwood, that there is no distance, no space between them.

—-

“Another massive win for us, I might say.” Lockwood says as the squad enters 35 Portland Row. His arm was around her shoulder as support, dried blood littering his left cheek from the early action of the mission, but neither the ache nor wound on his temple seem to wither his satisfied-self “The papers are going to have to write about us this time.”

Lucy groans as she tidies their rapier to the stand, “Keep me out from them, please.”

“Oh, but you're the star of this agency, Luce!”

Lucy dismisses Anthony's remark as she proceeds to ascend the stairs, visibly in desperate need of a warm shower.

“I wouldn't want to be involved too, thanks for asking.” George sarcastically commented with eyes still studying the locket they retrieved from the site. An ancient relic that would be his source of research for the weeks to come “You two would be enough of a punching bag for them to pick on.”

Lockwood turns to her as George retreats to his room, a happy grin still etched on his face, “Looks like it's gonna be us two again.”

“We can worry about the press later. You have a wound to treat first.” She replies as they begin to walk deeper into the house “And don't keep your hopes too high, Anthony. DEPRAC has a tendency to stomp on our dreams.”

Wincing slightly as he rests himself on the sofa, Lockwood watches her leave the room to get their med kit and a basin full of water. He could never get tired of this. Walking home after a successful mission, her tending his wounds that wouldn't be there if he would just suppress his impulsive-self, and listening to her scolds about how he acts like he's got nine lives on his sleeves.

But when she returned with her kit, the nagging that he's braced himself to face never came. She remained quiet, eyes locked on his wound. Not even a second spared to look into his eyes.

The cleaning process felt like a blink of an eye. Before he knew it she was already fixing the bandages back to the aid bag. His wound was cleaned, a thin layer of healing ointment lacing it. All done in silence, no lectures.

“Try to keep the wound dry when you shower, alright?”

Lockwood blinks. Nodding at her words as he tries to digest the silence they're in.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“I don't think so.” He answers.

She flashes a smile, standing from her seat. Without another word she exits the room, carrying the basin that is now slightly red from his blood and the aid bag. She spared no other glance at him. Silently returning the medical kit to the cabinet before entering her room and locking it shut.

Perhaps today isn't a big win after all.

—-

Having Lucy in the company has exponentially boosted their success. Such brilliant talent has brought them more accomplishment that it was getting troublesome for them to finish one mission to another. Lucy was truly Heaven sent, in short. The saviour to their dying agency and she could never thank her enough to revive Lockwood's dream back to life.

She understands the importance of Lucy's gift for their team and how the company is at it’s golden moment right now. Sure she and Lockwood are two of the most gifted agents there are, but with Lucy in the crew, the quartet was unbeatable. And it is obvious that Lockwood is determined to reap as much advantage as possible.

“I'm going to the grocery shop, anyone needs anything?”

It was a lazy Sunday morning. George making notes on the thinking cloth, Lucy trying to listen to their newest source, and Lockwood leaning on the kitchen set with his brows furrowed, clearly in a deep thought.

“I'll come with you.” Lockwood says as he picks up his coat “George, you said we need more teabags, right? Anything for you, Luce?”

The girl shakes her head, looking rather annoyed to have her focus broken from his question.

“I can go alone, it's not going to be a huge shopping trip.” She says as Lockwood comes to her “Really, Anthony, you can just stay and help brainstorm the plan.”

“I'm coming,” He insists with a light chuckle “What is it with you? Are you avoiding me or something?”

Yes, she wanted to say, I'm going out to have a breath away from you.

Lockwood opens the door, gesturing to her to come and ignoring her lack of answer, “Come on then.”

With a last smile and wave of goodbye to George and Lucy, she follows Lockwood's step outside of the house. The wind was blowing gently, sky clear and blue, the very perfect weather for her to take a stroll yet her mind couldn't help but to overlook such perfection and worry about the body walking next to her instead.

Lockwood's hands were buried deep inside his pockets. He was looking down to the cobblestone, as if there was some invisible stepping for him to step on. The creases on his forehead are a clear indication that his mind is occupied elsewhere. Almost as if he was mirroring her.

“So, uh,” He begins, trying to break the ice between them “What do you need from the shop?”

“Just some snacks and sweets.” She answers “You?”

He shrugs, “Maybe just a pack of gum.”

“Right.”

Lockwood nods, turning his gaze back to the road.

For someone who loves to brood in silence, Lockwood has always had her as an exception. She's the only person he could let his chatter-self loose, expressing all the most trivial thoughts he has, knowing that she would indulge them with a welcoming commentary or simply a warm laughter. The kind of laughter that makes you feel seen and heard. Her kind of laughter.

But after all her evident effort to turn him down, asking to be paired with George on their missions, declining his invitations to spend the night in his room or the library, and the most recent no-scolding-moment when she tended his wound, Lockwood couldn't help but to feel pressured on finding a topic to talk about.

“So what do you think about our last job?” He asks, forcing a happy smile as she turns to see him “A rather brilliant achievement, don't you think? With Lucy in our team, I'm certain our agency can be big in no time. Hell, we might have to start rejecting clients soon, can you believe it? We're lucky to have found such gifted talent-”

“Lockwood,” She cuts in, making him wince at the use of his last name instead of his first “Can I ask you a favour?”

He blinks, “Anything.”

“Let's not talk about work until we get back home, okay? Can I ask that of you?”

“Sure,” He nods “Of course, no talking about work for the rest of our shopping trip.”

She flashes a smile in gratitude, locking their arms together as a means of apology for stomping on his light. He smiles at her, a genuine one, before patting the back of her hand and continuing their walk to the grocery shop.

—-

The trolley wheels through the aisle as she scans for the particular brand of chocolate. She would certainly need a big bar of it along with a pint of ice cream tonight. For once after what seems to be forever, she finally cracked the code. The cause of space that has been growing between her and Lockwood has been found. What is left now is to find a way to solve it and to tell him about how they need to separate their lives with the job.

When he first told her about his dream of having his own agency, she was ever the most supportive and kind. Dropping her brilliant achievements at the academy, she was the first or perhaps second agent of Lockwood & co. Their talents were more than enough to ever become the elite team if they were in another agency, but since the company was still on its baby roots, finding clients was rather challenging. Things were getting better when George joined and even more brilliant now that Lucy is part of the team. She would have never expected his dream to be in the way of their personal lives.

Everything is just work, work, and work now.

“Fancy seeing you here, stranger.”

She turns to see the man, a wide smile plastered on his face. Almost as radiant as his yellow leather uniform, “Quill, hi!”

“Oh, it's been forever.” He says as they share a hug “Are you here alone?”

“Lockwood,” She replies “He's wandering around but with you here, I'm sure he'll pop up in no time.”

The two chuckles at her commentary. Lockwood and Kipps were always the cause of her nightmares back in the academy. The two boys could never seem to act civil, always bickering and hostile to one another, but when she's alone with either of them, they would act the most gentle as if she was someone they love dearly for.

A different kind of love from each of the boys, of course.

“How are you?” She asks, her expression turns to slight worry “Is it getting any better?”

Kipps smiles painfully, “Barely holding on. We've got to make most of what we have, don't we?”

If there were no bad blood between the two she would have offered Kipps to join the agency years ago. Having known him for years and to see just how brilliant he was, the way his techniques were always showcased whenever they have a fencing duel, it is no wonder that people hold a big expectation on his shoulders. He was promoted as supervisor in no time due to his proficient skills but with his talent slowly weakening, he needed someone to help patch this rather embarrassing fragility.

“Have you given it a thought?” Kipps asks with a gentle tone “I heard that Lucy girl is of great help for your team. Do you think you could finally help mine instead?”

“Quill–,”

“Kipps,” Lockwood says as he circles his arm around her shoulder, showing a rather possessive manner at the sight of them “What are you doing here? You're not stalking us, are you?”

Kipps snorts, making a disgusted face at him, “This is a public space, Lockwood. Don't flatter yourself.”

Understanding that their time has come to an end, Kipps flashes her a smile and walks away. He knows that Lockwood wouldn't give them another second to talk so unless he'd want him to know about his persisting issue, it was best for Kipps to find himself out of the scene.

“What did he want?”

“Nothing, we just had a chat.” She lied, pushing Lockwood's arm off of her shoulder and continued to wheel the trolley.

“About what?”

“About nothing of your concern.” She replies “You might never see him as one but Quill's a friend of mine, Anthony. We were just having a friendly conversation.”

Lockwood frowns at her dissatisfying answer. She's keeping something from him but whatever it is, he knew that poking about it now would be the recipe for a nightmare. Her sour mood hasn't watered and it would be wise for him to just let her be.

Besides, it wasn't like she'd leave him. Not for Kipps of all people.

“Can I ask you something?”

Lockwood turns to her, a loving smile decorating his face, “Anything.”

“How are you, Anthony?”

He frowns, “Splendid, how are you?”

“No, I mean, how are you?” She repeats, sighing in frustration to convey her true meaning “I don’t know anything about you outside of work anymore. What music do you listen to now? What book do you read? Do you even read still?”

Lockwood remains quiet, waiting for her to continue with her words so he would understand better.

“I live under your roof, see you almost 24/7. You’re the first person I see in the morning and the last I would bid goodnight to, yet I feel like I don’t know anything about you anymore.”

“That’s not true.” He argues, still not understanding the severity of their discussion “You know everything about me.”

“Do I?”

“Don’t you?”

“Stop turning my questions to me, Anthony. You know I don’t like it when you do it.”

His chuckle breaks, now pulling her for a tight hug, “Is that what you’ve been worrying about? That you don’t know me anymore?”

She remains quiet.

“If there is anyone that knows me down to my fibre, it would be you.” He continues, patting her head gently to soothe her “I mean, I suppose I have been too occupied with work but that doesn’t mean that you don’t know me anymore. We still share our meals together, watch our favourite shows and spend most of our time together. You’re still the one friend that knows me best.”

“I suppose,” She gives in “I’m just worried that this whole ghost hunting thing is burying our reality because I genuinely can’t draw the line between work and our lives anymore.”

“Well, our life is the agency, is it not?”

She shrugs.

“Hey,” Lockwood calls, breaking the hug and cupping her face to look into her eyes “You know me. I’m not a stranger to you, alright? You know what my current favourite jam is, what kind of tea I enjoy at the moment, and what colour of socks I wear the most. We’re still the same people as we were five, ten years ago.”

She smiles, nodding as she melts into his sweet words, “Alright.”

—-

"Anthony, I don't like this."

The group puts down their bags as they arrive at the mansion. Examining the place from the outside, she can already tell that whatever is waiting for them inside isn’t anything close to what they’ve encountered before.

“It’s still a couple hours till sunset but the energy is already this strong.” She told him, her senses heightened in fear “We’re not equipped to fight such a visitor, Anthony. Best we go back, rethink our plan, and maybe ask for assistance.”

“From who? Kipps you mean?” Lockwood asks with a bitter expression. He rubs his nose, a habit he does whenever he’s trying to tone down a brewing exasperation “Look, we’ve been through this a hundred times. The plan is foul proof, I can assure you. By this time tomorrow we’ll be crowding the sitting room, watching whatever unknown movie George picks to enjoy.”

“This isn’t about your ego or old feud with Quill, Anthony. There’s nothing wrong in understanding your limit and drawing the line. No shame in dropping a job we’re not capable of.” She tries to reason “Think about our safety.”

“You’re safe,” He insists, placing his hands on her shoulders for assurance “Nothing bad will happen to any of us. I’ll keep an eye for you, I promise.”

Not giving her another second to argue, Lockwood walks away and begins to help Lucy fixing the metal chain. The inside of her stomach flips when the wind blows. She knows that even for people who aren’t gifted, the atmosphere the mansion offers is nowhere close to the word homey. There’s something dark and cold, peeking through the windows and she could feel it in her bones that none of them four is strong enough to battle such power.

She walks to George and begins unloading their equipment. Her brows furrow at the sight of a strange item. A circular ball that looks like their salt bomb, only that it is heavier and bigger in size.

“Careful,” George says as he takes it from her hand with care.

“What is that?”

“A new bomb.” He answers “It has salt, lavender, and some other chemical thing inside that would explode from sudden force. Throw it to the floor and whatever visitor we meet would evaporate to thin air.”

“That doesn’t sound very safe.” She mutters, turning her eyes back to the mansion “I hope we don’t have to use that tonight.”

She looks back at Lockwood’s direction, trying to ease her worry by repeating his words in her head. Lockwood knows what he’s doing. They’ve been through the plan a hundred times, just like he said. Nothing will go wrong tonight. Everything is collected and under control.

—-

“Make it stop!” Lucy wails, closing her ears tight with her hands “Please, make it stop!”

“George, give us the chains!” Anthony yells as he tries to calm Lucy.

George quickly runs to their aid as she tries her best to fight the ghost with her rapier. She might not be the best there is, but she’s neck to neck as good as Lockwood and that should give her friends enough time to cast more protection for Lucy.

It hasn’t even been two hours since they entered the mansion and already the plans they came up with burned to ashes. This is more than just a case of an old abandoned house. The amount of type two occupying the building is enough to tell them that their client hasn’t been truthful. This place must have witnessed a mass murder, perhaps a cult sacrifice, to hoard this much energy.

“We need to find the source.” She says as she battles the ghosts “I can’t use my talent while fighting these ghosts.”

As if on cue, Lockwood came and began to fight the ghosts. He turns to her for a brief moment, “Go. I’ll protect you.”

With a nod, she walks away from her spot, running to the other side of the room. She places her hands to the walls, trying to get a clearer picture of what they’re dealing with.

The sound of screams and crying begin to fill her ears. There was so much pain and sorrow. This mansion has seen the worst of human acts, inflicting as much agony as possible to innocent lives. Her consciousness was slipping away, drowning in the torment that she is sensing and if it wasn’t for Lucy’s scream of cry acting as her tether to reality, she would have sunk in a ghost-lock condition.

“The blade,” She says as she finally gets the idea of their source “The source is a blade. An old one with a gold handle and Latin engraving.”

“Great work,” Lockwood praises her, his prideful smirk tugging on his face “George, prepare the chain net. Be ready to cover it.”

“How exactly are we going to find it? It’s pitch black here.”

Lockwood chuckles, “Well, use your flashlight, why don’t you?”

The three of them now begin to scour the place whilst fighting the ghosts coming in their direction. The screaming in her head gets louder as they come closer to the source, almost deafening her physically. Her stepping was getting unstable. Energy and focus drained out of her with every bead of sweat layering her skin.

“Stop!” She yells, dropping her rapier as the cries become unbearable “It hurts, please stop!”

“Oh, no,” George, who was closest to her, now kneels down and tries to bring her back to consciousness as he lightly taps on her cheeks.

“George!” Lockwood calls, panic seems to finally sink in as he watches her wail in pain “The source must be close, try to find it. I’ll protect her.”

Nodding, George begins to crawl away and look for the damned blade. His hands found what seems to be an old cabinet and began to rummage through. With very limited lighting and no idea of what the blade looks like, searching for a piece of steel through a locker full of metal items feels fruitless.

Scanning from one drawer to the other, George lets out a satisfied chuckle as he finally finds what they’re looking for. But before he could take it out and cover it with their chain net, a handful of ghosts headed his way.

“George, watch out!”

In the heat of the moment, George throws the chain net to the drawer, hoping that it would land and cover the blade, before throwing the new bomb to the ghosts.

To their luck, the chain net did fall on top of the source but due to the close proximity and the lack of understanding of just how big the explosion the bomb would produce, George was thrown out of the wall from the impact. Bits of broken wood scratch his skin and there was a big gash on his forehead. 

George was unconscious.

—-

Opening the keys to 35 Portland Row with a tired yawn, she put down her scarf and hung her coat by the rack. She’s been staying at the hospital for days, only returning home to take a shower and bring a new set of fresh clothes for George. Her body was aching. The scars on her skin from the previous mission are still fresh and hurting but none of it compares to the fatigue of worrying for George’s being.

The terror from that night still haunts her. How her head was filled with wails one moment to complete silence and darkness as George successfully covers the source. She remembers scanning the floor with her hands to find her flashlight, trying to get some light to understand their situation better, only to be completely frightened by the sight of George, lying unconscious with blood pooling around him.

“You’re home,” Lockwood greets, a relieved expression evident on his face.

She nods, not giving him an answer as she walks past him.

“How is he?” He asks as she gets to the stairs.

“Still unconscious but his vitals are stabilising.” She answers  “You'd know if you visit him yourself.”

“I want to, but I need to finish the report and paperworks.” Lockwood reasoned, following her behind like a lost puppy “Lucy's out at the library to do some research about our next mission. With George at the hospital I think we'd need more time to make our plans.”

She rolls her eyes, fist balling as she tries to hold in her anger.

“I was wondering if you could go to the DEPRAC office on your way back to the hospital and drop the locket? Inspector Barnes called and-”

“Anthony!” She yells, finally turning to face the boy who's now pale from her sudden outburst “Are you even hearing yourself right now? Sending Lucy to work on our next job, asking me to stop by the DEPRAC office, you being busy in your little library, do you not even care in the slightest for George? He's lying unconscious at the hospital for a work I've told you to drop about!”

Lockwood remained silent. His expression is hard and unreadable.

“I've told you that we didn't have the equipment nor skills to do the job. I've told you that the visitors are much more powerful than the ones we've faced before. I've told you to at least ask for help for the task and yet you've dismissed it all and look what it's brought us, Anthony!”

“Yes, but we did it, didn't we? We secured the source.” Lockwood answers with feigned optimism, giving her his unsure smile as he steps closer “We took a hit, sure, but it's not like George didn't know what he was getting himself into.”

She blinks at his words. Now taking a step back away from him as she tries to digest his answer, “Is that what you're going to say when each of us falls?”

His expression softens, “You know I would never let anything hurt you.”

“Yet here I am.” She argues, her poison laced smile evident “Hurt and wounded.”

Lockwood was at a loss of words. He remained silent, staring at her with his pleading eyes that silently screams for her to drop this and forgive his faulty words. But his silence served as nothing but a mere slap to reality for her that Lockwood was just a boy with a naive dream and no understanding of the risks he's committing the team to.

“I thought this was all I wanted.” She says with a volume just above a whisper, a pitiful smile plastered on her face as she tries to keep her tone steady. The cracks of her breaking heart is visible through her expression “You're everything I want, Anthony.. But I can't deal with your ambitions anymore.”

Giving him no chance to explain, she retreats to her room and slams the door, leaving him defeated in the hallway. The house feels colder now somehow. As if the silence wasn't enough to weigh his guilt even more. Lockwood knew that he messed up but never had he imagined that he'd ruin things this far. Especially not with her.

—-

Days have been slightly better now that George's discharged from the hospital. The kitchen is once again filled with their chatter but not nearly half as much laughter as before. The nightmare of wounded George still haunts her days and torments her at night. She would never be able to work with the squad as she did before. Something has changed in her and there's no turning back now.

Lockwood on the other hand has tried every possible way to talk to her but with every chance he makes to pursue her, she just has a hundred more ways to turn it down and avoid him. Her silent treatment was driving him nuts and it would be an understatement to say that he's desperate to fix it.

Now sitting in his study room, Lockwood turns to the door as he hears a light knock. She peeks inside with a slight smile, the most he's gotten after their fight a couple weeks ago.

“Can I come in?”

“Have I ever said no?”

She nods, stepping inside the room timidly. A piece of paper in her hand.

“What is it?” He asks with a warm smile, hoping that this would be the start of their reconciliation “What can I help you with?”

She looks down to the letter in her hand, sighing before handing it to him, “I wanted to give you my resignation letter.”

Lockwood stares at her blankly, not moving from his chair.

Gently, she reaches for his hand and hands him the paper. Lockwood's eyes were glued on her, trying to catch any trace of jest from the words she uttered. He prays for all gods out there to let this be a joke. Some cruel prank she's pulling on him as payback for his dickhead move for the past months. But as the ticking of the clock in the room grew louder, her playful smile never appeared.

“Why?”

“Anthony–”

“I promise to do better, I swear it.” He begs, standing from his seat and carelessly putting the letter away “I'll make better plans, I'll calculate each and every possibility there is and I'll listen to you better. Any input you have, I'll highlight it and make it work. Please, just– Don't leave. Don't leave me.”

She had to look away from his eyes before her fortress crumbled. Lockwood knows just when to put those big puppy eyes out and win her heart. But there's just so many times she could spare herself for him. There's just so many chances she could give and no matter how much she wishes and prays that this time would be different than the last, she knew that the damage done would still leave scars on them. An invisible one that could only be healed with time and space.

“Please,” Lockwood begs, seeming on the verge of tears “Name your price. Anything, please, just say it.”

“What I want you cannot give, Anthony.” She answers with a bitter smile “Because if you could, I know you would have given it to me years ago.”

“Just name it, please. Do you want a rise? Do you want to switch rooms? Do you want your name to be the agency's name? Because I can do that. We can just change the company's name to yours.”

A tear escapes her eyes. She knows that he was being genuine, that he was willing to give up anything to make her stay. But even with all he offers to give, Lockwood still couldn't see the one thing she desires of him.

And it's crystal clear to her now that he could never give the one thing she needs of him.

Placing her hands to his cheeks, she cups him gently and smiles, “You're going to be a brilliant agent, Anthony. Lockwood & co will be the best agency there is, I know it. I believe it.”

“Then why are you leaving?” He asks with a defeated tone “Why won't you be here with me?”

Because you won't love me the way I love you, she thought.

“Please,” Lockwood pleads “I can't lose you too.”

Pulling him for a hug, his dam finally breaks as sobs begin to echo in the room. He holds her tight, afraid that she would disappear if he loosens his embrace just a little. He would miss the sweet scent of her shampoo, the warmth of her body when he needed some comfort after a terrible nightmare, and her joyful laughter that always seemed to drunken him in bliss.

If only he would tell her exactly how he feels.

“You'll never lose me, Anthony.” She whispers to his chest, listening to his heartbeat before they part “I'm yours, always.”

↠ If You’re Going to Break My Heart

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood angst #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood scenario #anthony lockwood fanfic #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood oneshot #lockwood and co #lockwood & co

[jesslockwood]

Detecting the Haunted Masterlist

Chapter Two

Word Count: 2.3k

Pairing(s): Anthony Lockwood x Ex-Detective!Reader

Warnings: Angst, a bit of Fluff, Swearing, Talk of Gore, Blood, Mentions of Death, small details of a death/ murder.

A/n: OMGGGG here's the second chapter, and where everything just goes to shit lol. I love causing pain Let me know what y'all think so far!!!

!!! PLEASE REMEMBER TO REBLOG !!!

It's a free form of "payment" for my hard work for the time and effort I put into my works

Thank you and enjoy ❤️

Lockwood opens the door, surprised to see you standing there in the rain, drenched and shivering. It was nearing dusk, and the haze of the rain and light fading from the day, and the street lamps started to turn on, the glow of them lit up your face.

It had only been two days since he last saw you, and even standing there soaked with your converse full of water sloshing when you leaned onto either foot, holding a grey duffle bag, you took his breath away. It was just the same as your badass move in the house during the ghost fight, even when he saw you getting fired up over his endless and harmless flirting. 

Lockwood finally looked into your eyes, and it wasn’t just the rain that was pouring onto your face, there were tears coming out of your eyes. 

He wanted to bring you into his arms to comfort you, and never let go. That is until he's brought out of his thoughts, when Lucy and George shove their way into the small entryway, to see the same sight he saw. 

“Lockwood Let the poor Detective in!” Lucy says, before making a path for you to step inside. 

When you planted your feet into the home, Lucy maneuvers to shut the door behind you. The home wasn’t what you expected three agents under a small agency to have. To be quite frank, It was quite a bit nicer than you expected.

“Uhh, I’m not a detective any longer, actually.” you blurt out. It seemed as the three heads turned right towards you all at once with the same shocked expression.  

They all turned to look at each other like they were having a private conversation with their eyes. 

“Uh, then uh- Y/n What brings you here?” Lockwood asks with his soft puppy-dog-esq eyes.

That was probably the first time you’ve ever seen Lockwood stumble over his words.

“I needed a place to stay for the night? I can crash on a couch or whatever…” you pause swallowing, “I’d be leaving tomorrow by train, out to the countryside where my mother lives… since I’ve got no job, or job prospects.”

You start drawing circles with your feet. Waiting for their answer.

“Of course you can stay, for as long as you like, actually!” she said through gritted teeth, giving a side eye to the other agent you haven't met, with a curly black mop of hair on his head.

“Just don’t go giving her a job now.” he mumbles, pretty loudly, rolling his eyes, before walking off. 

Before she gives him another glare, “Here, follow me, We should get you dried off, and you can sleep in the attic with me.”she says before dragging you up the stairs. 

Lockwood gives you a sympathetic smile, before he's out of sight.

“Ignore George, he was the same way when I was employed here.” she mentions, before opening a door to a bathroom, giving you a towel. You start to squish the water out of your clothes. 

“I’ll give you the Tour later.” she says, “c’mon I'll show you the attic.”

You got upstairs basically being dragged by Lucy.

It had been a couple of hours since you had entered 35 Portland Row, and Lockwood was sitting in the library, trying to distract him from what just happened. He liked you, but he definitely didn't want you to get involved in all the mess that always seemed to trail behind the three who already lived there. 

 However, the real issue was, he didn't want you to go. He’d miss your banter too much, and especially your wit, and how you weren't charmed by his antics.

He could help but smile, just thinking about how fired up you had gotten over the conversations you've had.

He’s pulled from his thoughts, when he sees you entering slowly through the doorway. 

“Hey.” you whisper.

“Hi.” Lockwood greets you, putting his book down, and sitting up straighter. 

You didn't seem to be soaked anymore, and you were wearing an extremely long t-shirt, with some yellow fuzzy socks on your feet.

“I uh…” you pause, “I just wanted to thank you… and to say goodbye.” you say solemnly.

Lockwood was contemplating his next words as you sat down across from him. 

“We’re the reason you got fired… isn't it?” 

your eyes widen like a deer in headlights, as you gulp before choosing your next words. 

“It’s my fault really… I shouldn’t have helped you…” you say with tears starting to form in your eyes, “There were other reasons too… but it doesn't matter now.”

You take a shaky breath before telling him, “Don’t blame yourself.”

He looks at you with sympathy, before, gently and slowly placing his hand on yours.

“I’ll be okay. My mother moved out to the countryside after my father… She probably needs my company anyways…” you say trying to avoid mentioning it.

You get up to your feet, feeling claustrophobic from the weight of talking about it boxing you in.

“Stay safe, Lockwood.” you say before heading out of the room, to bed. 

The next day, you creep out of Lucy’s bed, that you both had an almost sleepover in.

You couldn't remember the last time you had giggled like that in the early hours of the morning, out of your tired mind as she told you so many of her stories such as the ones of the Quill Kipps vs. Lockwood, or the funny mess ups of their agency, or even better, the failings of the Fittes team. You had even told her of some of the pranks you and James had done to Barnes, which he never could pin it on who did it. 

You wished you could somehow stay close by, and become a friend of Lucy’s. You felt if you had the option, the two of you would be inseparable.

You leave a note for Lucy of your mailing address so the two of you could communicate when you had the time to write letters. You really wanted to say goodbye, but you knew it would just make it harder to leave someone you felt already so close too. 

As soon as you headed downstairs, the smell of food filled your senses, and it was delightful. 

 You decided to skip breakfast, and just eat the snack you had stashed in your locker when you were employed instead. You didn’t want any trouble from George for staying around much longer, nor to face Lockwood. You didn’t think you could refuse to linger just to be close to him, which scared you. 

After your father had died, things just shifted. Your mother didn't let people into the house, and rarely went out. She just shut down everything that used to make her eyes light up. For the hope that one day your father would come back. The same had probably happened to yourself. You made a choice to drown yourself in work, but now that was gone, you didn't know what you had anymore to keep you going, and not dwelling. 

You had got your shoes on, that were still damp, before turning to the door staring at it for a good minute. 

You were broken out of your thoughts, when someone spoke up, “You do know Lucy’s right?”

You turned around to see that It was no one other than Anthony Bloody Lockwood. 

“What do you mean?” you ask confused. 

“I mean,” he takes a step forward cautiously like you’d run if he moved too fast, “You could stay for as long as you like.”

You blink a few times, like if you blinked him away, you could maybe have unheard what you just heard.

“I mean, if you want to. You could even work your wage here. You're not an agent so I couldn’t employ you as one without the proper training, but you could do research with George, or even just…something?” 

he pauses, taking a breath, “I just can't let you go home without trying to convince you to stay… even if it's only for a little while?”

You think on it for a moment, with him fidgeting with the silence. Flashes of your fathers warnings come back to you, but you ignore the caution. You had to do it… after that case the fire for being an agent wouldn't snuff itself out.

“I’ll make a deal with you, Lockwood. You train me as an agent, and I’ll stay. I’ll just do research until I get all my grade levels.” you say trying to strike a deal.

He looks conflicted, like there was an angel and devil on his shoulders, shouting at him all at once. 

He must have decided to be the devil's advocate agreeing, “We have a deal. But any seriously dangerous cases are left to myself, Lucy and George, got it?”

You nod pretending to tip a hat to him that wasn't there. 

He laughs, and it warms your heart.

You take off your damp shoes, as he guides you towards the kitchen.

He yells off towards the direction of the kitchen before the two of you enter, “Hey, George, we're going to need another plate for our new colleague, Y/n!”

You had been staying there for a week by now, and you were ignoring the side eye George kept giving you, as you followed him like a lost puppy, to the library every day. He seemed just annoyed with your presence and the more you ignore his ignorance the more of a bad mood he seems to be in. 

You were glad you at least had Lucy on your side completely, with her giving you the tour of the house, minus what was behind the mystery door, which she defended that it should be Lockwood to show you since it was his home. But she shared a lot of things with you, like a sister would, to confide in. It was nice to have that, since you never had any siblings.

Lockwood was iffy. You didn’t know exactly where he stood half the time. He still seemed conflicted and you couldn't pinpoint the whole reason why. You thought it was just his complex feelings on you becoming an agent, but you didn’t think that was the whole truth to it. He was one of the harder people to read. 

During the week, nearing dusk, after Lucy, George and Lockwood had left for a case, you heard a knock at the door, as you were in the kitchen researching the next case they had lined up.

When you opened the door, you saw James, looking slightly stressed, holding a file folder in his hand. 

“James? How did you-”

“-Find you? There was a rumour that started from Kate that you've been hanging around the George Karim kid, and that you were living here.” he smiles trying to be genuine, but you knew something was bothering him.

“Kate may be a gossip monger but she got it right this time…” you mention, before asking, “So why are you here, out of the blue, other than to check up on me?”

“Since you couldn't access your Dad’s file… I may have flirted with the files clerk to get it.” he says looking guilty, since he knew that was a reason why you got fired, for trying to access it. 

“Don't worry it’s a copy, so you can keep it. Edith copied it for me… just now I'm going on a date with her because of you!” he half jokes trying to lighten the mood a bit before handing it to you.

“Do you want me to stay, or-” 

“I think I need to face this myself.” you say, before he nods giving a small smile, taking his leave.

You looked down at the file like it was death itself. 

You gulp, before closing the door, and heading to the library to read it. 

You were in utter shock. You couldn't believe the piece of paper in your hands and what it said. The pain you felt was even worse than before, causing you to choke up, like you couldn't breathe.

You hyper ventilated for a minute, before sobbing your eyes out. 

It was his fault. 

You could barely fathom all the anger you had inside of you, stretching its way out from the pit of your stomach over your heart. 

You hated his guts. He destroyed everything you had hoped and dreamed for. For your father to come home. To even just have a father. But it was taken all away, and the hope was buried with him.

Now he was six feet under because he was slaughtered by a black market seller, trying to protect him because he wouldn't go. Your father had to have warned them. But it says that he insisted on staying, when your fathers death could have been prevented. If only he hadn’t stayed or convinced his colleague to stay.

Your father was dead, because of Anthony Lockwood. 

You would never forgive him for this. You didn’t think you ever could.

He was the leader and he led someone into their death. An innocent man who had a family waiting for him to come home and to be reunited with. 

The only thing you were given was an empty coffin to represent his body and all it symbolized was the complete emptiness you had from that day on. 

There was no question, once you became a full fledged agent you had to get out of here.

Far away as possible to Lockwood and co, and Anthony Lockwood himself who destroyed everything you had held dear. 

Taglist: @waitingforthesunrise

#anthony lockwood #save lockwood and co #lockwood and co #renew lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #lucy carlyle #george karim #anthony lockwood fanfiction #Anthony Lockwood fluff #Anthony Lockwood angst #Anthony Lockwood fic #Anthony Lockwood fanfic #Anthony Lockwood fan fic #anthony lockwood imagine #Anthony Lockwood series #Anthony Lockwood x y/n #lw&co #lockwood & co #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood x y/n #lockwood fic #Lockwood fanfic #lockwood fanfiction #lockwood fan fiction #Anthony Lockwood fan fiction #jess writes #Lockwood for Disney #Lockwoodfordisney

[saltwaterburns]

I've just stumbled upon the absolute most admirable, alluring, angelic, appealing, bewitching Lockwood & Co. fic on ao3 i'm going mad. absolutely feral. Gnawing and howling.

#LOCKLYLE. #locklyle #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood and co x reader #george cubbins #holly munro #lockwood and co headcannon #anthony lockwood x fem!reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x you #𖦹 saltwaterburns speaks! #IM GOING FERAL #IM FUCKING #IM GOING INSANE #BARKBARKBARK #WOOF WOOF WOOF

[cameronspecial]

Since your requests are open, can I request Lockwood and reader (platonic) are on a case or soemthing and it’s going all wrong and stuff happens but eventually Lockwood and the reader gets in a fight cause Lockwood isn’t allowing the reader to help and hoping she’d leave so she’d be safe but the reader isn’t having it or seomthing and he eventually says “I’m not losing another sister!”

Sibling Love

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x Platonic!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mentions losing a sibling.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.4K

It all started with a forgotten chain. One would think that after the last time a job went wrong because of a forgotten chain the members of Lockwood and Co would get into the habit of checking for the metal rope before going on jobs. However, it seems they have not learned their lesson because as Lockwood and Y/N return from the case, all Lucy and George can hear is arguing. “It was one tiny hiccup because of a forgotten chain, Lockwood. It doesn’t mean that I’m going to be in danger every time we go on a case,” Y/N argues. Lockwood looks at her with anger, “It wasn’t a tiny hiccup. You came this close to being ghost touch.” His fingers are pitched dangerously close to show his concern. 

“It’s part of the job. So unless you fire me, you have no right to tell me what I can do. I helped you build this company from the ground up.” 

“I’m your boss, so I have every single right to tell you what to do. You are sticking to the research side of cases. My decision is final.” 

Lockwood hopes she’ll take his words to heart and agree. He hopes that she will quit this life and stick to something safer. Instead, she just shakes her head in disbelief. “If that’s so, then I quit. You know, Kipps is always asking me to join his team. I just might take him up on that offer,” she warns with a glare. Lockwood’s eyes widen in fear and he steps forward, “You can’t do that. His team has the highest mortality rate in the country. I’m not losing another sister!” Y/N's anger softens at Lockwood’s words. She can see the vulnerability in his eyes and takes a step towards him. She engulfs him in a hug and buries her head into his chest. He instinctively wraps his arms around her and places his head on hers. 

“I know, and I don’t want to lose a brother, but we do our job so no one else has to suffer the same time of loss that we did. At least, if we both work, we can protect each other. So, please, don’t push me away,” she pleads to him with tears in her eyes. He nods, “Okay, I won’t bench you. Just promise me you’ll look out for yourself.”

“I promise.”  

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood x y/n #lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n

[neytirisheaven]

MISCELLANEOUS MASTERLIST ் ༘

[ ↷ m. masterlist ]

[ ❏   legend   , ]

✿   fluff     !    ☁︎   angst    !    ★   smut     !

♥︎   personal favorite     !    ✓   complete     !

ᝰ   currently writing     !

lockwood & co.

❛ anthony lockwood ❜

𓄼 oneshots 𓄹

ᝰ  |  there ain't no one else more beautiful:

( best friend,   rex orange county )

✿

IN WHICH lockwood, your best friend, gives you constant reminders that you're the most beautiful person in the world

ᝰ  | i'd buy you anything and everything i can't afford:

( flaming hot cheetos,   clairo )

✿

IN WHICH you're constantly spoiled by your boss, and george and lucy can't help but point it out

𓄼 mini-fics 𓄹

tba

the maze runner

❛ minho ❜

𓄼 oneshots 𓄹

ᝰ  |  i think i’m addicted to your lies:

( gemini,   ethan low )

☁︎

IN WHICH you and minho have had this back-and-forth situationship going on between you since you showed up as the first (and only) girl in the glade, and you know that all he spouts is lies, but you just can’t seem to help yourself

ᝰ  |  wonder what it’s like to be next to you:

( next door,   amelia moore & astn )

✿

IN WHICH minho always admired you from a distance, whenever you helped people around in the safe haven or spent your time alone reading a book, and he never once failed to imagine what it would be like if he was right by your side

𓄼 mini-fics 𓄹

tba

#lockwood and co #lockwood and co fanfiction #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #the maze runner #the maze runner fanfiction #the maze runner x reader #minho the maze runner #minho the maze runner x reader

[initialchains]

one bed | anthony lockwood.

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem!reader

summary: lockwood is a dumbass and forgets he doesn’t have a spare bed for you (hc’s)

a/n: reader is a fittes agent + this is my first time uploading something oh lord i’m about to throw up + fluff you will always be famous.

Lockwood almost knocked George down when he ran to you and offered a place to stay the night.

You were planning on heading back to your assigned Fittes dormitory and sleeping for two weeks after such a tiring case, but the way he looked at you was enough to convince you.

“I mean.. you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to, but it would be way safer if you came home with us. Right, George?” 

“Yeah, and you–”

“Walking alone in the dark while there’s a bunch of visitors around isn’t the way we would want you to end your night after a case like this. Right, George?”

“Well, yeah.. just–”

“See! But there’s no pressure, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to.” 

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay.”

“You’ll stay?”

“Yeah”

“You don’t have to if you feel pressured–”

“I think she heard you the first twenty times you reassured her about it, Lockwood.”

It wasn’t until the three of you got in the cab together, that he remembered Lucy had the attic now, and they had no spare bed.

Let’s be serious for a bit – Lockwood is properly shitting himself. He thought you wouldn’t take the news lightly and beg him to take you to your dormitory.. but you didn’t. (To be fair, you were way too exhausted to care.)

He’d just stand awkwardly by the door, waiting for you to pick a side of the bed. It was something he used to always see his parents do when they were at a hotel: his dad letting his mom pick a side first.

Once you changed into a clean pair of clothes and were all settled into your chosen side of the bed, you turned to him with a small smile, letting him know it was okay to join you. (His brain shortcircuited for a second, he almost passed out at the sight of you wearing his clothes and laying on his bed.)

Lockwood would join you and lay stiffly on the mattress for a few moments until he was able to steady his breathing to talk to you, trying to break the tense atmosphere that clouded his room.

Sure, you’ve been alone together lots of times, but usually those times were while you were trying not to die, getting rid of type twos.. and well, not sleeping in the same bed.

He’d start to tell you about Lockwood and Co’s most recent cases, and you’d tell him about some lame prank your Fittes team made on Kipps. (That was enough to cut through the awkwardness and get a laugh out of Lockwood.)

The two of you would talk about anything and everything until your eyes gave out and were too tired to utter a word.

The next morning you’d wake up to two strong arms wrapped tightly around you, and Lockwood’s scent taking all over your senses. You didn’t move and chose to stay like that until you had to head downstairs. Because who are you to complain about this heaven-on-earth scenario?

Once you were gone (Lockwood taking you home, of course), he’d come back to Lucy and George teasing him to no end

“Oh, why don’t you stay the night? It’s no problem, really, you’ll get to sleep with me and I’ll get to declare my undying love for you once the sun comes up.”

“I didn’t declare my undying love for her when the sun came up.”

“So you accept it? You’re in love with her?”

“Shut up, Lucy.”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

#anthony lockwood x reader #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co #magnolia’s hc’s!

[wordsarelife]

hey guys i’m facing a little dilemma with my lockwood guts fic.

all american bitch will be about reader being treated poorly by kipps and lockwood trying to help her

pls i need your opinions! i will wait about two hours before the final decision is made! thank you for you help already 🫶🏻

#lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #george karim #netflix #ali hadji heshmati #lucy carlyle #cameron chapman #ghost hunting #ruby stokes #quill kipps x sibling!reader #quill kipps #quill kipps x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co headcannons #lockwoodandco #lizzysgutsspecial

[fleetingvow]

ANTHONY LOCKWOOD X FEMALE READER

SYNOPSIS. you and anthony have settled it before. you couldn’t allow whatever it was that had been going on between the two of you to continue. so, that resulted to consistent longing looks and stolen glances, until you met someone new. lockwood didn’t like that, especially with the way this bloke flirted using the very language he used to communicate with you from far away. ( 4.5k words )

CATEGORY. angsty fluff. jealousy plot. will-they-won’t-they trope. written in second person’s point of view.

WARNINGS. unproofread. i don’t have beta readers, sadly. english is not the author’s first language. usual usage of profanities. tried my best to characterise anthony as he is, but he’s a little much of a challenge. — hopefully i did him justice. aged up to eighteen but without nsfw theme.

NAVIGATION. you can find more of my works about anthony lockwood and wednesday addams by clicking the link here! a fair warning, they’re all angsty!

DEDICATED TO. @obsessed-female @courtneyraeblogs1221 @philliam-writes ( apologies for the repeated tags - there was a malfunction with the previous one and i had to replace it with this one )

REMINDER. this fic is written by ©fleetingvow on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other platforms without my permission. inspiration is lovely, but plagiarism by paraphrasing is not, as well as stealing someone’s idea and claiming it as your own which is exactly what plagiarism is.

𝗜𝗧’𝗦 𝗚𝗢𝗜𝗡𝗚 to be like this forever, isn’t it? Endless rounds of stolen glances and yearning looks from across the table, learning the art of composure and restraint to keep both your desires to be close to one another just solely in the back of your mind. Anthony always was a complex character, and there were times you couldn’t read his thoughts behind his eyes, but when you started to study him carefully, you started to understand that those looks he gave you were quite more interesting.

Not interesting per say, perhaps — perhaps interested.

You couldn’t deny Lockwood the fact that you weren’t immune to his charms. He was gentle and caring yet careless with other things that involved the agency’s line of work. Which was the irony of it all, really, because once you both have opened yourself to each other and came transparently clear of your feelings, he insisted that you both set it aside for the sake of the team.

And now here you are, months later, just glancing at each other briefly, smiling at nothing like idiots when no one’s looking, and pondering over the small moments when your hands would brush slightly. Your heart would constantly ache for him. This barricade he built between the two of you made it difficult for you to see him, but your feelings kept growing.

He was so close yet so far.

All you could get ahold of him was a view. That’s all you could do after all, look at him, admire him from afar, picture how he smiles proudly and smirk so smugly in your head.

Lockwood is an entire art, you thought.

And then, there were two lovesick arts looking at each other, which are, for clarification, are the arts they were looking at.

How could both be so active with their eyes yet be so blind from the fact that they wanted each other at the same level of intensity?

Sight was Anthony’s talent, and he was damn grateful it was that it was his pair of eyes that did all the work for him. He couldn’t communicate by words to you or else someone else would hear. He couldn’t touch you because someone else might see. It might be better that he’d learn the language of looks for you, and maybe then you’d know. You’d know how his tired eyes wouldn’t let him sleep as it worked with his mind, screaming for him to wake up and convince him to be selfish for once. Selfish enough just to get you all to himself.

But he couldn’t do anything about it, he just couldn’t. He didn’t want you suffering because of him. He knew you loved the idea of romance, and he knew how avid you were to find someone who would shout his undying ardour to the ends of the Earth. He couldn’t let you suffer, only holding hands with him behind closed curtains.

Lockwood wanted you, but you were someone he couldn’t have.

“Your tea’s getting cold, Y/N.” George commented as he noticed the untouched teacup set before you. You quickly snapped out of your trance when suddenly, there was a knock on the door. In an attempt to shake off the embarrassment you just caused, you stood up from your chair and mumbled, “I’ll get it.”

Anthony let out a chuckle under his breath as he flipped the page of the newspaper, casually appearing to read when his mind had entirely lost track of the article he was supposed to be absorbed in two minutes ago when you started zoning out while looking at him.

“What are you laughing at?” George questioned. My, he seemed to be in a bad mood today. Anthony lifted his head to meet his eyes with a shrug.

“The paper’s just a little ridiculous today,” he reasoned. It was truly because he found you amusing for a little while. The boy closed the paper and set it on the table. “Where’s Lucy?”

“Upstairs. Said she needs another hour to sleep in,” Karim replied, unbothered by the previous encounter. He took a bite of the cookie and passed the platter onto Lockwood who returned it, seeing as there was only one left, and George needed it to maybe lighten up his mood.

You laughed slightly, “You really shouldn’t have. Is this your mum’s recipe? It is, isn’t it?” You frowned in confusion as you examined the pastries inside the basket. It smelled so good. Cinnamon, just like —

“Hey, L/N. Who is it?”

— Lockwood.

You quickly turned to look at him with the basket clutched in your hands, “Oh, it’s Theo. He gave us his mum’s specials. Here, have a look at it. They look delicious.”

You noticed how his eyebrows furrowed as he caught sight of the boy in the doorframe. That wasn’t a good sign. “Theo?”

“Yeah, he’s the one stuffing us up with bread and pastries for the past few weeks.”

‘So this was Theo,’ Anthony thought to himself, scanning the guy from head to toe. He frowned even more. “Theo, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m — ”

“Anthony Lockwood. It’s nice to meet you, too.” Theo shook his hand. There wasn’t an expression on Anthony’s face for a while before he caught himself and tugged a slight smile.

“Do you want a cuppa? It’s the least we can do in return,” you suddenly interjected, diminishing the tension that had been threatening to build up between the two. Oh, why did you have to be so nice all the damn time? Lockwood swore he could lose two of his toes right there and then.

You realised Anthony didn’t much meddle with the idea of Theo entering the house as he only stood there, waiting for an answer from your neighbour. Theo let out a breathy laugh constructed of fear, “Er, as much as I’d love to, I don’t think I have the time today — must go help my mum arrange the er, bakery.”

“Perfect! We’ll just deliver you a George special. Truly grateful for the gift.” Lockwood replied immediately after the end of Theo’s sentence. You didn’t even get to talk as Theo awkwardly stood.

“George special?” He asked, bewildered.

“Made by George — er, our researcher,” you answered. Lockwood flashed him a smile and held back a sigh.

“Any more questions? I think our agency’s quite busy. I can already hear the phone inside, it must be our third commission for today.”

“Okay, yes, I mean no. I — hey, I’ll just drop by tomorrow, yeah?” You could have sworn Theo gave you that look, his eyes gentle as they were fixed on you without a care for the fuming facade in Anthony’s face.

Lockwood slightly pulled you away from the doorframe.

“Thanks, mate.” Anthony found his grip on the door as he quickly shut it on the boy’s face, his hand lingering a little more while on the wood as he stared at you. You returned the gaze, arching your eyebrow. You almost said something, like why he was in a rush when she could literally hear no ringing from the phone, why he was examining Theo from head to toe, and why he shut that door on his face. But his eyes, they were staring right at your soul as if he was trying to figure out some kind of puzzle in the back of your head.

“Are we just going to stare at each other, or are we going to talk about what just hap—” You finally spoke up only to get cut off.

He quickly took a sharp inhale with a question that made his eyebrows furrow again, “Do you like him?”

“ — What?” You asked in response, your mouth ajar.

“Lockwood, Y/N! Your tea! It’s a waste of teabags, seriously!” George’s voice quickly cut the tension with his yelling, turning the atmosphere even more awkward to bear. You both turned your head to the kitchen’s direction with you recovering first when you cleared your throat. You then left without a word.

Throughout the next week, things have been like that. Theo comes knocking on the door, and you would be welcoming him, accepting his gifts . . . with Anthony closely standing a foot behind you. If it isn’t you that would answer the door, it was him, and you could ask Theo about how that went later on.

The visits have become regular and the gifts have become more in quantity and taste. There was a point that Theo got inside the flat and visited the library, much to Anthony’s dismay. He had to watch him closely tailing you in every corner of the chamber of books, his hands clasped behind his back. Anthony was reading the latest scoop, but then he had no choice but to pretend that he was occupied by it while he watched closely. Theo was making jokes, funny enough to you that it would earn a hearty laugh.

Lockwood almost rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“That’s hilarious!” You exclaimed.

‘Oh, you little liar,’ Anthony thought with a smirk. If you really found that hilarious, you would slap Theo lightly, but you weren’t. If there was something he was confident at, it was that he knew you better than anyone else.

You lightly tapped Theo’s hand as you let out yet another laugh. Anthony groaned mentally, resisting the urge to stand up and leave the room. His eyes peeked through the newspaper while listening intently.

“You mentioned before that you liked reading, so I thought maybe showing you the great Lockwood library would be enough to return the favour.”

“What favour?” Theo questioned.

Yeah. What favour? Anthony leaned in slightly.

“Delivering your gifts to the agency. The bread, pastries, and the er, . . . ”

The what?

“The flowers.”

The flowers?

He heard Theo laugh under his breath as he watched him bob his head with a gentle ‘you’re welcome.’

‘Are they quite done yet?’ Anthony thought. Theo’s eyes watched you, his eyes travelling from your eyes to your lips.

Lockwood didn’t like that. So, with much grace, he cleared his throat and closed the newspaper, finally getting the attention of the two of you from where you stood. Your breath almost hitched as you watched Lockwood walk out of the library with much haste.

You didn’t know what you did to him. You didn’t know exactly how that conversation affected him, and he wished you did. He wished you had a clue. Of course, you have. Could you? He was stupid to leave that library — what if whatever that conversation was leading to, happened? What if . . .

What if you walked out of that room completely and utterly unreachable? Your devotion truly untouchable and bound to that Theo?

No matter what had transpired, or what Lockwood thought, that seemed to be the inclusion after Theo left the house, wasn’t it? Because when the door closed and you turned back facing your team, Lucy and George looked at you quite expectantly.

Yet Anthony couldn’t meet your eyes.

No matter how much you searched for them.

You gave them a slight smile before walking past them without a word, rushing to your given room with a heavy heart weighing inside your chest.

You thought it was only you? Lockwood felt his heart shatter when he walked in that kitchen with Lucy and George indulging into the fresh biscuits Theo gave earlier that morning. They were chatting and betting away whether Theo would have probably made his move or chickened out. When they finally noticed his presence, they quickly stopped and looked at him.

“What?” Lockwood asked.

George cut off the awkward silence when he offered the boy the biscuits he shared with Lucy. When he left that library, he thought he already got away with the sight of that man who was persistent on having you, but guess he thought too early.

“Do you think Theo’s made his move yet?” Lucy questioned. It was odd, for sure. She was never the one to be so invested in something like this. That made his stomach churn. Could it be that you and Theo were both too compelling to have her trapped in this sort of spell?

“He’s a wuss. He’d probably walk out of that door with an awkward trip. I can already see it.” George, not you too.

“Do you think they’ll be together in any minute now, Lockwood?” Lucy, could you stop with these questions? It was making his tie almost choke him and take away his breathing.

“It’s obvious. Their awkwardness is not hard to miss.”

Oh, so you and Theo were obvious to Lucy and George, but when it was you and Anthony, it wasn’t? He didn’t know if he should be happy or not that no one knew. Because as much as he’d love to shout it, could he?

The sight of the goods was sickening, but he had to cover his traces desperately or things would only go downhill from here. He couldn’t have you, and that’s final. That was the very reason he lost his sense of planning, and all he had to resort to was just — be the Lockwood that’s always Lockwood.

The team before you. The agency above all else. The greater good before his feelings. The well-being of everyone in that house before him.

What’s the point? Theo had proven himself consistent — with gift-giving, he supposed. He just looks at you so perfectly, like he was taken with you. Lockwood used to look at you like that, and he still does, no matter how useless it has become. Theo’s body language didn’t display threat to you or anyone. He was just unapologetically himself, gentle and soft. You would probably want to live with someone like that.

He was your friend.

Lockwood? He was your boss.

He convinced himself that that was the only role he could play in your life as you grew further and further apart from that table. Who knew, right? That someone could be this close yet so so far.

Anthony began to take his morning tea rather faster than before and proceeded to keep himself locked in the library for the times that the team wasn’t out for ghost-hunting. He was still himself, still the same boy with witty remarks and had a subtle smugness about him. Still the same friend and boss who praised his team constantly and asked for George to make his specials just because.

Still the same old Lockwood with so many things different about him. Oh, please, spare us the irony, but goodness how much you sought for answers from his eyes that just wouldn’t stare at you for more than three seconds.

You couldn’t see him. Truly see him.

And you were sick of it. He acted so normal, like nothing happened. That he didn’t just watch everything that happened in that library, left without a word but with a sense of anger lingering, and stood with the two to ask for what happened.

There was something different about you. Your eyes stayed focused on your tea for an hour every morning, you went outside off-duty a lot, and you only spoke when you were spoken to. You smiled. Just occasionally. You opened the door to the agency’s home for Theo, but it never felt thrilling anymore ever since you found that Lockwood’s presence won’t be a foot behind you. Theo only brought bread now. No more flowers, no other gifts of romantic causes. He always put on a friendly smile like it was his favourite shoes.

And you wished you’d see that same smile but on a different face.

So, you did what you did best. Avoided Lockwood. You couldn’t afford to fall for this challenge. Every single day proved to be difficult as you saw his face. That was the reason you were out the door often. You also met up with Theo quite frequently.

There was this one time Anthony wished he never stared out the window. Just so he wouldn’t catch a glimpse of your figure, your hair, your eyes that looked up at Theo as you listened to what he had to say as you slowly walked side by side.

He looked away, shutting the accounting book in his hand. He’d suddenly lost interest in sorting out the bills when he knew he couldn’t even afford something intangible. He scoffed. ‘This was different.’

Anthony stayed in the library again tonight, watching the striking dance of the flame in the hearth, nursing a book in his arms. He sighed, looking away and turning his attention to the paperback he now settled on his lap. What was wrong with him?

He already had you, and he just had to ruin it, didn’t he? He couldn’t be with you because what? Because of Lucy and George’s predictable taunting?

He was sure he had a good reason, but now? Now that he’s successfully pushed you away into the arms of another guy, he couldn’t see it as a reason.

Only as an excuse.

Just so he wouldn’t hurt you, but being involved with him already did half of that. It was just when he lost you that it must have damaged you both.

Or maybe it was just him.

“Lockwood?” He heard his name spoken by a voice ever so gentle yet thought-provoking that one would doubt it came from a human but a siren. The boy looked up from the book and turned his head to you, catching sight of you again.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

He looked at you for more than three seconds. You took note of that as it made you smile, yet that smile faltered when you felt your heart dropping to your stomach upon realising the reason why you knocked on the library door and faced him in your sleepwear.

“Yes, Y/N?” Your name always did sound like a melody in his voice. You almost got distracted, but took a step forward and closed the door behind you.

“I was wondering if we could speak.” That statement was firm.

It took him a while, but then, “Sure.”

“It’s about Theo.”

“And what about Theo?” He was quick to reply. You didn’t know if he wanted to talk about him or not, but you were slowly believing it was the latter when he looked away from you and stood up from his chair, putting the book aside on the table.

“I don’t think you like him very much,” you confessed. Your chest heaved up slowly as you sighed in relief of finally telling him the truth, but it wasn’t over yet. It wasn’t even just the beginning.

He paused for a while before resuming to ask gently, “Is that him saying that or is it you that wants to know?”

“Him.”

“No, Y/N. I don’t not like him.” You knew that. No, not the like part although that, you didn’t know whether to trust. You meant him not being gullible enough to believe that it wasn’t him that was asking him that question and you were only there to deliver the missive.

“Look, I only want the truth.”

Ah, so it is you asking that question.

“Why do you need this specific truth?”

Why is he asking you back? That wasn’t supposed to happen. You didn’t expect him to start turning the tables of who asks who. “I was just thinking, that’s all,” you replied in almost a whisper.

That’s when he crossed his arms and nodded his head, jaw clenching slightly. “We’re both not being truthful at all, are we?”

You lifted your eyebrows in return. “What?”

“It’s half the truth; What I said.” What was that supposed to mean? Your inhalation this time around was shaky. You tried not to crumble and appear as sturdy as possible, but you were close to knowing about the truth and Anthony who had been amiss for the past few weeks.

“Do you want to know the full truth, Y/N?” Lockwood questioned. His voice seemed to be coaxing you out of your trance, like he was taunting you, luring you in with that tone in his voice, but there was a different flavour to it.

Like it was soft, gentle, almost as if he was making it sound childishly alluring enough to show you innocence in which it is bliss in all its glory of the truth. Lockwood here before your presence was willing to be completely honest, and he was making your heart flutter with hope.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he mumbled quietly, eyes glued to yours as you scanned his face for a sign whether he was cracking a joke. There wasn’t any readable hint at all, and you knew just how to handle a situation like that.

Play dumb. You painted a face of confusion, slowly settling your hands to your side after they went numb from clutching your hips. You replied, dragging the emphasis of the question along, “Looks at me like what?”

He took a deep breath and averted his gaze, buying his merry time as he appeared to be lost in thought, mesmerised by how utterly stupid he was starting to feel. This time, it was him that placed his hand on his hip, his other firmly placed on the table next to the chair he warmed with his presence earlier but completely ghosted as he stood. He lifted that hand and rubbed the nape of his neck. He shouldn’t be saying it. He shouldn’t even think it!

But by God, you were driving him mad!

“Like how I’m supposed to look at you.” He could have sworn his hand twitched in response to the urge to slap himself, but he had to keep his composure, especially in front of you. He had to appear better than the guy who had been the object of your attention this past week. Anthony mentally cringed — Why did he say that? He messed up, didn’t he? Ridiculously so!

“Lockwood,” you whispered.

His eyes furrowed, watchful gaze softening at you as if he was going to lose you forever and he was a dead man destined to just watch and watch until his time runs out.

“Anthony,” you corrected yourself. That gave him hope, but he wasn’t just about to rejoice either. You were, after all, Theo’s. Not his.

“But he’s doing it wrong.” Anthony continued without a care in the world. He just wanted this, if it’s the only thing he gets.

He was exhausted from just staring at you from afar, and what’s worse, having another guy in the picture doing all that wondrous romantic work for him.

He’s selfish, fine, but he once had everything when he communicated with your soul and now he had nothing.

Just fleeting hope.

“He’s supposed to see your soul in your eyes, not just his reflection in them. He’s supposed to notice every detail, the colour, the shape — and he’s supposed to remember it for when he thinks of it in sleepless nights.” He took short strides forward to meet you this close as he lifted his hand and brushed the loose strands off your face and tucked them behind your ears. “He’s supposed to tuck your hair like this when it gets in the way or else the message he���s trying to tell you won’t end up being clear.”

“But maybe he should have messages to give you before he looks at you like this at all,” he mumbled. “He should have learned the language of looks. You don’t just deserve words, you deserve the truth, the full picture, every inch of a canvas painted. The Devil knows just how much you like to watch yourself in someone’s eyes, how they perceive you, and you in mine, you’re perfect in every way. Does Theo know that? Is he aware? Do you like how he looks at you?”

You couldn’t talk. You were malfunctioning upon hearing his words. They were all being processed in your head but your understanding also kept shattering.

You felt like a girl again. Not like Theo never treated you like one, it’s just that only Anthony managed to make you feel this way.

“You said it before, Anthony; We can’t happen. We could never, because — ”

“Because I was a coward.”

“Because you had a duty to this agency, and you were thinking of everyone. I agreed on the matter with you.”

“And I had a duty to you.” Your world stopped. Is this the same Anthony? What was he doing being this close to you? Why did you like it?  Was he taking his words back from before? Could you possibly happen now? You didn’t know the answer to your own questions. You were in a haze and flurry of questions, but when you searched his eyes now, they were true, deep, lovesick and drunk at the sight of you.

“Theo and I aren’t together, Anthony.” You mumbled without blinking.

You just wanted his breath on your skin, his touch on your cheeks, his eyes all over you and his lips meeting yours. “So what’s holding you back now?” you whispered again, your hand leisurely finding its way on his chest.

His skin was hot underneath his shirt, but you could also feel the fast thumping in his chest. His smile before that didn’t quite reach his eyes now reached the sky and his eyes became starry with the news. For weeks, he thought he’d lost you, and what a fool he was to only know it now that you were there just waiting for him. How could he think that?

“Kiss me.”

You closed your eyes as you closed the vexing gap. Your hand roamed from his chest to his shoulders, looping your arms to hold him close. His hands made their way down to your waist, the other trailing your back and settling on the nape of your neck. His fingers were feather-light on your skin, making the hairs on your neck shiver to the touch.

You never thought you’d feel something like this. You thought it was just the books you read and the films you watched. Now, the boy you thought was a tense duty-first guarded eighteen-year-old was kissing you until the oxygen his body possessed gave out.

How relieved he felt, how soft you were under his touch. He thought of this a million times over when he couldn’t even look at you before, holding you close like this, having your lips on his like this.

He had to firmly shut his already closed eyes again just to make sure it wasn’t a dream, but no, he wasn’t in the midnight voyage of slumber. He was there in his library filled with books and the scent of you that lingered. Sweet and you. You always loved that room and so you’d linger every single day.

He thought it was the books you liked so much. It was, but the best part of it was Anthony Lockwood himself, and he can’t quite complain now, can he?

Meanwhile, Lucy was getting rich with George’s money, but who cares, right? Who knew you and Anthony thrived on angst and it took Theo the bread guy to bring you two together?

Oh, you thought no one knew? Even a kindergartner would know in five minutes.

END NOTE. This is a repost because the original one was butchered by Tumblr's read more link bug that made the paragraphs of the fic disappear and get jumbled.

This paragraph is a test whether the read more link bug will destroy the fic again and make it disappear. Hopefully not, because I can't keep rewriting the last paragraph repeatedly.

#anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader angst #anthony lockwood angst #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood x reader fluff #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony #lockwood #lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood fic rec #lockwood and company #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and company x reader #lockwood angst #lockwood and co fic rec #fleetingvow #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood fic #netflix #anthony lockwood netflix

[ukulelevillainwrites]

who follows the rules anyway?

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8

pairing : anthony lockwood x fem reader

series content : enemies to friends to lovers, "i didn't know where else to go", angst and fluff, third person pov, she/her reader mc

summary : y/n gets fired from Fittes and seeks refuge with George, only to find out he works with the worst guy she's ever met

word count : 3.5k

notes : this is my first fanfic ever, the set up is a little slow but bear with me, the series will be a compilation of all my favorite tropes and in general everything i love to read in l&c fanfics, it's heavily inspired by everything i've read so far so thanks to all the amazing writers out there &lt;3, a lot more happens in the second part that i will upload right next to this one

---

She wasn’t entirely surprised when she heard that George Karim had gotten fired from Fittes. He did a great job on the few occasions she got to work with him, but he always seemed to take his research too far. She remembered warning him several times.

“Supervisors aren’t as open-minded as I am, you’re gonna get in trouble if you keep bringing up your theories about the Problem to every person you interact with!”

“But don’t you find it weird how research has come so far and yet the Problem keeps growing? The official story tells us that an unidentified event caused it but what if it’s still going on? Wouldn’t you want to know what that was so we could finally put an end to this?”

When he put it that way, y/n couldn’t help but agree with him.

“Sure, I guess but it doesn’t justify going up to the fourth floor when it’s clearly closed to agents still in training!”

“Keep your head in the sand if you want but I’ll get to the bottom of this, I know I’m getting closer already.” George said with a proud smile on his face.

She’d laughed. He was stubborn but she found it endearing.

He had bragged about his latest discoveries after a case the both of them had been working on. It wasn’t the first time. They got along well and took the habit of grabbing an early morning snack on their way back from work. He would mostly tell her about his most recent theory, either about the Problem or his latest obsession, which could take a few hours. But y/n didn’t mind, she thought he was good company and it helped her relax after a case. Though aside from those few moments they didn’t spend that much time together. Especially since y/n became part of Quill Kipps’ crew.

A month ago, she had gotten the good news coming back to work after a weekend visiting her parents in her hometown south of London. She was ecstatic, her roommate El too. Especially El actually. Because they had such a huge crush on him. y/n didn’t quite understand it, but she did admire his career. He had a remarkable reputation among other Fittes agents and being part of his team would certainly boost her career as well. She had her heart set on moving up to management and someday become a prominent figure of the Fittes organization. But to reach this goal she’d need to be as remarkable as Kipps, better even. She wanted him to notice her, to see how great her Touch was but most importantly how organized and responsible she could be under pressure. She needed him to think she could be a great leader and sought his attention on every occasion. Because of that she and George drifted apart, going from work friends to acquaintances that simply exchanged passing hellos at the archives or the Fittes headquarters. Before she even thought of reaching out to him, he was gone.

“Did you hear?” El had asked her as she walked into their shared room.

“Heard what?”

“That annoying guy finally got fired!”

“What George? He wasn’t annoying he was sweet!”

“You have weird tastes in friends.”

“Yes, I do.” She told them with a wink.

“But do you know what happened? Most supervisors were pissed and wanted to involve the cops!”

“What? Why?”

“Because he tried to break into an office! They caught him trying to pick the lock! How crazy is that?” El seemed to relish the drama of the situation as their face lit up with a smile that seemed inappropriate under the circumstances.

“That is crazy but as much as I love to gossip, I really need to get some sleep.”

y/n got ready for bed and set her alarm for the following day. She had to do some research at the archives with her teammate. They would join Kipps later at the client’s house. It shouldn’t be too difficult since it seemed to be a Type One but she really needed to impress him. She had to be the perfect agent: quick, focused and perfectly prepared. Even though she was always very professional she still needed some rest.

y/n was a heavy sleeper and had very vivid dreams. Ever since she was a child, she had some of her nights disturbed by complex dreams that felt so real she would wake up exhausted the next morning as if she hadn’t slept at all. It hadn’t happened in quite some time, but that night y/n wouldn’t get much rest. She found herself in the middle of the woods, barefoot, standing in a clearing. The ground was covered with an emerald green moss that felt soft beneath her feet. She looked around but couldn’t see much beside the shadows of the surrounding trees. A thick fog made it hard to see where she was. Disoriented and lost, she started walking towards the nearest tree but, a few steps in, her right foot sank in ice cold water. She realized she was in the middle of a pond, stuck and unable to reach the shore. A frog jumped into the water behind her and made her turn around. A girl was standing in front of her. Her auburn hair was slightly curled, and her bangs delicately framed her brown eyes. She was slightly smaller than she was, about the same age, her face showed no emotion at all.

“Find me.” She said in a neutral tone.

y/n furrowed her brow, not understanding what she meant. As she opened her mouth to ask her to explain the girl repeated

“Find me.”

Without moving she somehow floated above the pond and retreated into the woods. She mouthed the same words one last time before the fog engulfed her. y/n woke up with a jolt, disoriented and terribly thirsty. What was that about? she thought. She didn’t have time to ponder since she hadn’t heard her alarm and was already late to meet up with her colleague.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Bobby I hope I didn’t make you wait for too long…”

“It’s fine but hurry up. Kipps insisted on gathering as much information as possible.”

“Really? But everything indicates a Type One right?”

“The problem isn’t with the dead but with the living. Didn’t you pay attention to who our client is?”

“Mrs Overton? What about her?” Bobby had an exasperated look on his face and sighed heavily. So much for being the perfect agent today.

“Her husband owns Overton Watches and basically runs a luxury empire and she is on the board of the Sunrise Corporation. She and her husband are close friends with Penelope Fittes and we cannot screw up this case otherwise our team will probably end up at the bottom of her list next time she needs trustworthy agents.”

Oh, I’m not rested enough to deal with that.

“Okay then, let’s get to work.”

They spent the whole day at the agency’s archives. The Fittes database did help a lot to find more information about the Overtons’ house but overall, it was a pretty boring case. The house was old, dated back the 1800s, it belonged to Mrs Overton’s ancestors, one of them died because, well, they had to at some point, and felt like coming back. This great grandmother didn’t live any kind of extraordinary life and decided to haunt the place in the same unremarkable way. Y/n had trouble staying focused. The case was not fascinating, far from it. Her mind drifted and came back to her dream. In hindsight it wasn’t that disturbing. It was just her brain making stuff up. But she couldn’t shake the feeling she had felt when the girl had spoken to her. There was something magnetic about her voice and it had an intensity that didn’t match the lack of expression on her face. It bothered her. Why couldn’t she stop seeing her face?

Bobby got up to put back some newspapers and the sudden movement next to her brought her back to reality. Right, the Overton case. Everything indicated a Lurker, so y/n wasn’t too worried about tonight. She could still make up for today’s start. Plus, her talent would probably be the most useful. This unseemly case might serve her after all.

As she walked back to their table after putting a book back on its shelf, she accidently bumped into someone.

“Oh I’m so sorry!”

“It’s okay don’t worry.”

“George? Hi! What are you doing here?”

“I came by to pick up the rest of my stuff…”

“Oh right… I’m so sorry about all this.”

“Don’t be I kinda deserved it anyway. Though I still think I was right.”

“About what?”

“Mrs. Dufour stealing sources. It’s pretty obvious she can’t afford to live the way she does on a supervisor’s salary, and she always looks like she’s plotting something. She reminds me of relic men. I never liked her.”

“Well to be fair you don’t like a lot of people… it looks like I missed your last hyperfixation… but it seems like a stretch and accusing her of something like that… Was it really worth getting into that much trouble?”

“I’m not chipper about it, but I’ll be fine. I already found something else, a friend I can still work with, maybe you know him. We live in-”

But y/n wasn’t listening. Bobby was calling her, telling her that they had to get moving to get to their client’s house before sundown.

“I really have to go George I’m sorry. But I’ll miss our walks filled with your crazy theories.” She said with a smile.

“If you want to come by for tea, we’d be happy to have you. 35 Portland Row, don’t forget!”

“Sure, I won’t! Good luck!”

“Thanks, you too.”

She hurried to catch up with her colleague. She really was going to miss him even though they weren’t that close she had grown used to seeing him around. But she couldn’t believe his theory about Mrs. Dufour. It sounded like he wanted to see evil everywhere and was looking for something to distract himself with. A made-up scenario that justified why he disliked her at the same time. Nothing more.

----

“Good evening, Madam, we are a leading team from Fittes. We were assigned to make your house safe again by Miss Fittes herself.”

Kipps always had a very humble way of introducing them to their clients. As proud as y/n was of being on his team, she didn’t feel entirely at ease with his elevated figures of speech.

“Yes, I was expecting you. Penelope told me she put one of her best teams on my case. I was very flattered.”

“Well, we do not want to appear overly confident, but we will be most efficient to take care of your problem. May we come in?” she asked.

“Of course, please. I suppose your supervisor will be here too?”

“Yes, Mrs. Dufour will be here shortly.” Kipps answered.

y/n abruptly turned around to look at him.

“Mrs. Dufour? What happened to Mr. Fowler?”

“He got called by DEPRAC to deal with some details on the last case we did. You know, the one where it only took you two minutes to find the source after Bobby and I spent a half hour looking for it. It was really impressive I was glad you were here.” He told her with a wink.

She felt herself blush. She wasn’t used to being praised and certainly not by a prominent agent like Quill Kipps, even after a month of working together she still felt flustered. Maybe that last case made up for the horrible impression she gave him on her first week. And she was going to keep proving him how great she was.

The praise was so unexpected it made her forget who their supervisor was for a moment. What were the odds that on the same day George told her about his suspicions she had to work with this potential traitor? She could not let George’s wild theories cloud her judgement. She was here to do a job, a relatively easy one given their research, and she was going to make a wonderful impression on both Kipps and this high-profile client. She took the lead and went inside.

As they stepped into the house, they were greeted by a white marble entrance furnished with glass cases displaying various clocks and watches, certainly a history of the famous Overton watches and mechanisms. The sun was already setting, it hit a crystal chandelier which reflected golden light over the walls. The pieces shone behind their glass. Their client guided them through the hall into the kitchen were teacups and biscuits had been served. Mrs. Overton took a seat and the three agents followed. She seemed at ease with the situation even though the young adults she had in front of her were here to rid her of a ghost. She sat at the head of the table, perfectly in control as if this meeting was a business reunion like any other. She was in her late fifties; her hair was silver and styled in an elaborate hairstyle. She looked both serious and relaxed at the same time. She was aware of the risks but wasn’t worried about the situation, like she had total faith in the team in front of her.

“While we wait for Mrs. Dufour maybe you could tell us more about what has been troubling you?” asked Kipps.

“I believe the haunting began about three weeks ago. My husband started feeling uneasy when he got home, and I felt the same fear shortly after. We never saw or heard anything we just feel watched.”

“I’m sorry to hear that Madam.” y/n tried to comfort her.

“The research we did on your house indicates that it’s been built in the 1800’s and never left your family is that correct?” Bobby interrupted.

“Yes, I inherited it about 2 years ago, but we only moved in this year.”

“We believe the haunting might be caused by one of your ancestors, a certain Emily Abbott, could you tell us anything about her?”

“I’m afraid I’ve never heard of her before…”

“So, you wouldn’t have any idea what her source might be?”

“You might have a late night ahead of you. When we moved in, we kept most of the furniture that were already in the house. For all I know any of these pieces could be the source.”

That wasn’t good news. Hopefully with her Touch y/n could save them some time. They could start at the bottom of the house and work their way up, going from room to room as she touches different objects hoping for some result. As she organized the night in her head the front door opened.

Mrs. Dufour immediately filled the room with her presence. Mostly because she spoke at length and didn’t let the team finish asking their questions. She thanked Mrs. Overton for waiting for her, ushered her out of the house and gave them her directions for the night. Not even Kipps could object. She wanted him to stay nearby while Bobby and y/n were to explore the house to see if they could pick up anything. She felt for Kipps, this seemed like a monumental waste of time for him. But they couldn’t do much about it, agents were supposed to follow their supervisor’s instructions, they were in charge after all.

They searched the house until midnight, making rounds, going up and down the floors, looking for potential sources or trying to pick up any kind of psychical activity but came back downstairs empty handed. How was she supposed to impress anyone with a case like this? y/n and Bobby went back to the kitchen to report the lack of activity to Mrs. Dufour. 

“We’ve searched the entire house three times but unfortunately none of the objects we picked up gave any sign of psychical activity, the visitor hasn’t shown up yet and Mrs. Overton couldn’t give us more information. I’m not really sure what more we could do for now.” Bobby looked defeated. Or bored. Probably the latter, it was an exceptionally boring case. y/n was growing tired at the lack of action. It made her mad that someone could hire one of the best teams in London to take care of such a benign problem just because they had money and connections while hundreds of homes were threatened by harmful Type Twos and couldn’t do anything about it.

“Do I really have to tell you two how to do your jobs? Keep looking and take this seriously. I hope you realize who our client is, I can’t allow any mistake tonight.” Her authoritarian tone made y/n see why George disliked her. Clearly, they must have gotten into a few arguments on several occasions. But she couldn’t understand what would make him think that she could steal sources. She seemed to take her job very seriously. Sure, she was a pain but that didn’t mean she was a criminal.

“I’ve got something here! Bobby, y/n join me in the hall.” Kipps called.

They drew their rapiers and walked slowly into the hall. Kipps was looking at a corner where shadow had gathered. There was a faint, almost indistinguishable human shape lurking there. But it didn’t move, and it didn’t seem to want anything more than just stand there.

“I’m going to keep an eye on it while you two look for the source.” Kipps told them without averting his eyes from the dark figure.

“But what more can we do we looked everywhere already.” Bobby said with a sigh.

“Well,” Kipps turned to her. “y/n, got any ideas?”

She didn’t answer. She hadn’t heard them as she was lost in thought. Mrs. Overton hadn’t mentioned anything about the display cases here. But she should have. There were marks on the walls behind them, and again on the marble floor. It was a clear sign that bigger and heavier furniture had been removed to make room for new ones. That change alone could have triggered the ghost. And since they were behind glass, they hadn’t tested any of the objects on display. Though they were all Overton Watches so, clearly, they didn’t have anything to do with Mrs. Overton’s ancestors. Another dead end. She lingered in front of the central display, slowly losing hope. If such a ridiculously small case was too much for her, what was she even doing here? Sure, the two guys accompanying her weren’t inspired either, but she was disappointed in herself. She had dealt with dangerous situations without flinching, but a Lurker case was getting the best of her. That was embarrassing. She rested her hands on the case and looked down at the watches. There were four watches spread across a silk white sheet surrounding a bigger, more ancient clock. They didn’t seem that impressive. Why were people making such a big deal out of them? The clock on the other hand was more ornate and had required skilled craftmanship. The mechanism was apparent and intricate. It was still working which was most impressive. A golden crown rested delicately upon a mother-of-pearl dial, the needles moving steadily around. Right beneath the number 6 was engraved something almost unreadable. She squinted to see better. The initials EA were written in golden letters.

“I’ve found it! The source! It’s this clock right here!”

“Nice work y/n. Keep an eye on the ghost I’ll take care of the source.”

They switched position and she kept her eyes on the shadow as Kipps tried to get the clock out of the display.

“I can’t get to it, it’s locked. I’m gonna have to break the glass.”

“No! Don’t do that Mrs. Overton would be livid. Bobby go get Mrs. Dufour and Kipps don’t touch anything please.” She said with her back to them, her eyes still staring at the corner.

“Did you find the source? What is it?” Mrs. Dufour asked, suddenly in a hurry.

“We have reasons to believe this clock is the object causing Mrs. Overton trouble.”

“That’s really nice work Mr. Kipps congratulations.”

“I much appreciate your praise, but it has to go to y/n. She found the source. As we don’t have a key, I offered to break the glass, but y/n thinks it would upset our client.”

“Well thank you Miss y/n for using some common sense. We cannot break anything in this house.”

“We could drape a silver net over the case and come back in the morning to pick up the source.” She offered.

“I think it would be best. Thank you again for your prompt judgement here.”

“It was my pleasure.” She blushed. It was nice to have her efforts acknowledged, no matter how small. This supervisor might have been a stickler, but she recognized good work, it was enough to satisfy her. This case turned out pretty well after all.

#lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #x reader #lockwood and co imagine #who follows the rules

[ghostlystyles]

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐙𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆

anthony lockwood x gn!reader

lockwood is really just a lovesick teenager

request: Could you do a Lockwood X reader where they are getting ready for the gala at Fittes and Lockwood sees reader in the dress for the first time?

tessa’s notes: this was the fic that i didn’t save properly when i was nearly done, but it turned out alright so we vibe

warnings: honestly just pure fluff + lucy and reader are close friends :D, comment if i missed any <3

word count: 0,9k

—“OKAY, LUCE, WHAT do you think of this?” you asked, turning around to face the girl who was reading a book on her bed. “That definitely looks like you’re going to a funeral,” she replied. You turned back around to look in the mirror and sighed frustratedly, “well, considering what we’re about to do, I might be in a few days. I agree, though, it looked fine in the shop but this is terrible.”

“Well, you have one more, don’t you? Try that on,” Lucy suggested, looking up from her book. “Good call, give me a second,” you spoke, walking back to your wardrobe and pulling out the other dress. It was a red silk dress that reached your ankles and the woman in the shop had specifically told you it would look great on you, so you had high hopes.

You slipped into it and turned around to face Lucy again. “What about this?” you questioned as you twirled around. “Oh my god. You look so good!” Lucy gasped, throwing her book to the side and jumping off the bed. You looked in the mirror and tugged on the dress to get it in place. Lucy was right, you looked undeniably beautiful. “Yeah, this is definitely better than the funeral dress.”

“Can I do your makeup now? Please?” Lucy asked, as she held up her basket of makeup products. “As long as you don’t stab out my eyes or make me look like a total idiot, sure, go ahead,” you replied, sitting down at Lucy’s desk chair and she got to work. She put some eyeliner on you, stuck a line of gems alongside it and finished it off with a bit of highlighter and a tinted lip balm. “There. You look so pretty.”

“Wow, Luce! I’m impressed, thank you!” you exclaimed happily, as you tilted your face to look in the mirror from a different angle. “You’re welcome,” Lucy said in a singsong voice, while you grabbed the stuff you needed to do your hair. “Are you nervous?” asked Lucy. “‘Course I am. We’re stealing this extremely rare book from Fittes’s library, which, knowing us, may very well get us killed, and we’re supposed to act ‘casual’ around the other people, of which I’m sure there are going to be lots. Also, those people are going to treat us as a couple, because why else would two people go to a ridiculously fancy gala together? So yes, I am a tad nervous,” you ranted quickly.

“Yeah, all of those are very valid. But why does it bother you so much that people are gonna treat you like a couple on a date?”

“Well, it’s not a date, is it? Do you know how hard it is to act like and be treated like a couple with someone who you have genuine feelings for but aren’t actually dating?”

“I think you’re allowed to treat it like a date. At least a little bit. He asked you to go with him, no? He could’ve asked me or George, but he asked you.”

“Luce, that was literally a 1 out of 3. I was probably the best option for the occasion or whatever.”

“No, N/N, he already called me an asset and I think he still feels guilty for that. He wouldn’t do something like that again.”

“Okay, fair enough, but still. Just because I could hypothetically treat it like a date, doesn’t mean he is. It’s bloody embarrassing if it’s one-sided.”

“Y/N!” Lockwood called from downstairs, “are you almost done? I’m pretty sure our taxi is gonna be here in a few minutes!”

“Yeah, just a second!” you responded, as you took one final glance at yourself in the mirror. “Do I pass as a posh person who genuinely has business being at the Fittes gala?” you questioned. “Definitely. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were rich and probably a part of Penelope Fittes’s inner circle without a doubt,” Lucy reassured you. “Okay, great. Well, wish me luck, then,” Lucy gave you a quick hug and you then walked downstairs.

Lockwood was waiting for you by the front door and he looked star-struck when you descended the stairs. “Wow, Y/N— you look—”

“Stunning? Gorgeous? Charming?” you joked and Lockwood laughed softly. “Dazzling, honestly,” he finished his sentence, making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “Why, thank you. You look very pretty yourself,” you replied with a smile. “I really wish I could kiss you right now,” Lockwood whispered. Your stomach flipped upside down and you did a double take. “Did you just say what I think you said?” you questioned with your eyes wide open, “because if you did, I really wish the same.”

Lockwood wasted no more time and he grabbed your face between his hands, pulling you close. He placed his lips onto yours into a soft kiss which made your insides completely melt. You pulled apart far too quickly for your liking and you both broke out into a huge grin. “Hey, that’s half your worries gone! Now all you have to do is steal the book, it’s gonna be a breeze!” Lucy yelled from halfway up the stairs. “Okay, Luce, that is enough stalker behaviour for today. We’re leaving,” Lockwood deadpanned, as he entwined his fingers with yours and dashed out the door. “Good luck, lovebirds!” you heard Lucy laugh before pulling the front door shut.

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood blurb #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood fic #anthony lockwood fluff #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #lockwold and co #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood & co #lockwood & co netflix #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood & co fanfiction #cameron chapman #x reader #x gn reader

[shadowbriar]

Anthony Lockwood - If You’re Going to Break My Heart

Pairing : Anthony Lockwood x (she/her) TouchGifted!Reader Word Count : 5.8k. Warning : Blood. Minor character’s death. Panic attack. Possible OOC as I haven’t read the books. Angst, don’t sue me. Synopsis : The ambition they’ve nurtured for years finally start to create a space between them, straining their relationship that turns what once were friends into colleagues. Notes : Part II of I Love You So. I recommend listening to Inhaler - If You’re Gonna Break My Heart while reading. Thank you for giving the fic so much love and support, please don’t hate me as you reach the end of this fic. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕   Taglist: strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you. @nessa-stark @navznak28 @gwnwrites @archiveoftara​ @superpositvecloudshipper​ @cassiopeiia24 @wordsarelife ​ @mellowarcadefun @ajordan2020 ​ @a-candle-maker ​​ @obsessed-female @rambles-fanfic-trove​ @yokolesbianism ​

↞ I Love You So

“Anthony, I don’t like this.”

Lockwood drops his bag, carefully letting the sack fall off his shoulder. The heavy chain rattled as it came in contact with the ground. Her worried eyes tingles his heart, as if he couldn’t decide if he should be delighted to see how adorable she is right now or to take her worry seriously. She does have the tendency to be apprehensive at times.

She continues to express her worry but her words blur as if he was listening underwater. His brain was working itself hard to comprehend her sentences, to process whatever it is she was trying to tell him, and though he feels it in his heart that he knew what she wants and what she was saying, he still couldn’t compute the words she utters.

“We’ll be fine,” He finds himself says, mouth moving as if it has its own mind “We’ve been through this a hundred times, we’ll be alright. I promise to keep you safe.”

Her brows were still pinched, a small frown of disagreement displayed, but she remained quiet. Slowly yielding to his words and nodding in approval. She takes his hand, interlocking their fingers and guiding him inside the mansion.

Lockwood could see all the glowing traces on the floor as soon as they stepped in. He took out his rapier, ready to fight whatever is to come their direction. His breathing was getting shallow as fear started to crawl on his skin. Lockwood scrunches his nose, muttering to himself, everything will be alright.

But as he takes a step further, the sound of Lucy wailing in pain greets him. He turns to the source of sound, seeing Lucy kneeling and crying as she covers her ears with her hands.

Then another scream was heard. George was fighting ghosts just a few feet in front of him. Lockwood feels as though his feet were melting to the ground, unable to provide aid to any of his best friends, watching in horror as George fights for his life.

“Anthony,”

Now he turns to his right. She was sitting on the floor, leaning on the door frame with blood pooling around her. Her shirt was stained red. Her face is pale, gleaming from the sweat that is lacing her skin. Her right hand moves to his direction as if she was reaching for him. A futile attempt to eliminate their distance.

“No..” Lockwood mutters as panic sinks in “I’m coming. Stay with me, please, I’m coming!”

As he tries to reach her, a swarm of ghosts comes to his direction. He tries to fight them off, swinging his rapier in every direction as they just seem to be coming from everywhere. Lucy’s wail, George’s scream of help, and her trembling calls of his name become louder with each fought ghost. He wasn’t sure if he could save all of them, or any of them in that matter, but he would certainly die trying than to give in.

With the last breath of energy left in him, Lockwood drops to his knees and crawls to her. He reaches for her face, gently rubbing her cheeks to gain her attention but her eyes are vacant. Staring at him without a blink.

“No, no..” He chokes, crying and calling her name “Please, come back. I’m right here, please— I’m— Look at me, please. Hey, it’s me! It’s Anthony!”

Her still warm body was limp inside his embrace. He cries for her, screaming her name in hope that it would wake her somehow. His white shirt is now soaked red, marked by her blood.

Come back.

Come back.

Come back.

Please.

Lockwood jolts up from his bed, drenched in his own sweat as he tries to process his surroundings. His bedroom was dark, lit dimly by a candle by the wooden table. He lets out a relieved sigh, rubbing his eyes away from his own tears. This would be the third nightmare this week.

He peels off the blanket that was enveloping his body and puts his feet down from the bed. Lockwood stares on his bedside table. A new picture from earlier that day was framed and stood proudly. He was smiling, holding the most unattractive cake that George insists is a masterpiece while standing on his right, Lucy on his left. They were smiling brighter than the sun. They looked happy, whatever that word means these days, and truth be told he felt happy too then, but everyone could see the darker hue under his eyes and how dull his smile is compared to his best mates. This birthday was hollow.

It was his first birthday without her.

Lockwood stood from his bed and walked out of his room, finding himself gravitating to where she used to stay. He turns the door knob gently, as if afraid he would wake up anyone sleeping inside the vacant room, wincing as the door makes a creaking noise. He studies the room and pictures where her belongings used to be. He remembers the scattered jewelleries on the table, the pieces of chocolate wrappings by the bin, and the clothes hung behind the door. 

He walks closer to the bed, resting his hand on the mattress and pretending to feel her lingering warmth. The scent of her sweet perfume that is now gone. Their pictures that used to decorate the walls were missing, leaving torn marks on the wall paint.

He let himself lay on the mattress. His eyes glued on the ceiling, thinking and imagining what she might be doing right now. Is she asleep? Is she caught in a book and lost track of time reading? Is she brewing a pot of hot tea to help ease her mind? Is she thinking of him the way he’s thinking of her?

The boy rests an arm over his eyes. He let out a long defeated sigh. There’s no one he could share his burden with now. No one would understand what he’s going through. Even if he tries to talk to someone, he knew that he could never be as transparent to a soul as he was with her. The weight that has been suffocating him gets worse each night and Lockwood wasn’t sure how long he could keep his feigned persona.

Please, come back.

—-

Lockwood knew that the job would have some complications. There was no way that the Prime Minister would only hire their agency for such a gallant event. The Ball was too important to be guarded just by three teenagers. No matter how proficient Lockwood would think his colleagues are, securing such a prestigious function would require more than a handful of elite agents.

“Kipps,” Lockwood greets as they enter the hall “Fancy seeing you here.”

Kipps smiled amusedly, turning to face the younger boy with such glee that it alarms him, “Dare I say that I’m glad to see you here, Lockwood.”

Lockwood shows a thin smile.

This job was a rather different mission than the ones they’ve done before. Instead of cleaning a mansion or securing a relic, the team was tasked to maintain the stability of the government’s event. With the ghost epidemic persisting and countries collapsing, the government is planning to hold an evening party to gather the powerful men and women from different countries to talk about their economic alliances. A couple of days ago, the government officials received intel that a certain group of radicals were planning to crash the Ball by releasing sources. Security has tightened since and there have been no troubles found so far yet one could never be too secure for such a paramount event.

“I heard you’ve been getting back on track, retrieving more sources and regaining attention at the agency.” Lockwood said, pretending to be interested in Kipps “Did you finally take that fencing lesson I told you about? How did it feel learning to properly hold a rapier with 6-7 years olds?”

Kipps smirked. The kind of smirk that says ‘I know something you don’t’ and it edges Lockwood to the bone. He hates not knowing about things that might cause him a disadvantage. Sure that their teams are now playing for the same flag, that they’re mates instead of rivals for the upcoming task, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking that this is a competition still.

Lockwood’s mind was abruptly distracted when he thought he heard a familiar voice. He turns to the source, eyes softened when he sees her, talking to some officials. Her hair was styled differently and the stark difference of appearance she has now wearing Fittes uniform was rather nauseating but no matter how peculiar she looks right now, Lockwood couldn’t help but to feel delighted to see her.

“Ah, there she is!” Kipps says, clapping his hand with a big smile as he calls for her “Lockwood, have you met my newest member?”

His grip on the rapier tightened. Kipps is evidently rubbing it on his face now, holding her by her shoulders just like he did when they met at the grocery store months ago. Lockwood forces the corner of his lips to tug into a smile, trying to collect himself and avert his focus to her.

“Anthony,” She greets with a smile “I knew you would be here.”

Lockwood nods, a little bit too stiff that it made her gaze softened as if she was apologising for something he couldn’t tell. His mind was split in two, torn between feeling overjoyed on seeing her and wanting to punch Kipps’ face. He forced a smile at her, trying his best to ignore Kipps’ presence, “How have you been?”

“Great. Where are Lucy and George?”

As if on cue, a piercing squeal was heard behind them. George and Lucy were now running toward her, pulling her into a rib crushing embrace. The trio looked like a group of children returning to their kindergarten class after a spring break.

Lockwood smiles at the sight. This was what normal is for him. To see her with George and Lucy, talking and laughing as if the world was nothing but a background noise. She looks radiant. Her beaming smile etched on her face, cheeks flushed from the giddiness. She looks beautiful.

“So to answer your question,” Kipps says, making Lockwood to glare at his direction “Yes, I did take fencing lessons, and no, it was not with 6-7 years olds. I rather like this fencing partner of mine, actually.”

—-

Trying to keep his focus is evidently impossible with her standing next to Kipps now. Lockwood knew that today’s briefing was important. That the officials are telling them the rundown of the party, vital exit points, and more confidential information about the intel, but what exactly can one do when the person he’s missed the most is standing by his sworn enemy? Besides, Lockwood’s certain that George is noting everything down, they could surely just go over this back home.

“Don’t do it.” Lucy says as she glances at Lockwood.

“Don’t do what?” He questions, not moving his gaze from them.

“Whatever it is you’re planning to do, Lockwood, I’m warning you, don’t.” She says with more firmness “We’re working on the same team now. Kipps isn’t your enemy.”

Lockwood snorts, “Like hell he’s not.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. Arguing with Lockwood while the cause of his fury is still in the room would be pointless. His lips were in a thin line, murderous eyes locked on Kipps who was still talking to her, discussing their plan for the job. For anyone else the two of them would look like nothing but a pair of elite agents who are only doing their job, but for someone blinded with jealousy, a certain way of Kipps’ gaze already set Lockwood’s skin ablaze.

Time feels like it passes by much slower in this hall. Lockwood swears that it’s been forever, that Kipps has been whispering and making her smile forever. He knew that the two are close, hardly half as close as they were, sure, but she’s always been good friends with him. Even back at the academy, Lockwood had always seen Kipps as a rival since day one.

And no, this goes further than just the fencing thing.

But in the end, she would always come for him first. Lockwood would be the first person she would tell her day to, the first she would share the pastries she bought from the new bakery around the corner, the first she would come to practise her rapier skills with. Now it looks like Kipps has dethroned him from such a position.

“You’re going to lose her completely if you let jealousy cloud your mind.” Lucy warns “They’re just doing their job.”

Lockwood turns to Lucy, looking offended, “Mind you, I am not jealous.”

“Like hell you’re not.” She says, repeating his own words.

“Shut up, Luce.” He retorts “Listen to the officials.”

“Lockwood, I’m serious.” Lucy says, this time pulling his arm with firm warning “Your jealousy is bleeding right out and if you’re not careful, you’ll only push her further and remove herself entirely from your life.”

He remains quiet, looking at Lucy with unsure eyes.

Lucy sighs, letting go of his arm, “Don’t overthink it. They’re just friends.”

His lips were itching to spit more arguments but Lockwood gave in and nodded instead. He tries to avert his mind by asking George to give him a recap, telling him pointers of the crucial information he missed from trying to murder Kipps with his stare.

The job was simple. Come to the Ball, make sure no ghosts were released from the supposed source attack, fight whatever party that might be in their opposition, then go home with a check big enough to feed them for the whole year. A big fish for a rather simple task, Lockwood notes.

Lockwood could already see the list of activities his friends would do once they finished the job. Perhaps a week off for everyone to go enjoy their well deserving reward is due. Lucy has been wanting to visit her friend Norrie and it’s been a while since George went to see his Grandmother in Sidcup. And him? What would he do to fill in a full seven days of no work?

It would’ve been much easier to make notes of all the brilliant activities to do if she was still in the team. He could go and visit her family, it’s been some time since he met her parents. Or maybe they could go somewhere new, jump on the train and visit cities, perhaps countries. Or even just staying at home and listening to her favourite records echoing through the walls of 35 Portland Row. All things would be pleasant so long as he gets to do it with her.

He wondered what she would do with her share. Maybe she would use it to get herself a new rapier. A fancy one where she could have her initials engraved on it. Or maybe she would use it to buy new paint and canvas, she does have a talent in such art. Or maybe she would go and visit all the museums and libraries in town. She loves going to such institutions. Lockwood remembers the first time they went to the National Gallery, how fascinated she was with all the pieces though he would argue that none of the works displayed is half as magnificent as she is.

But now that he thinks about it, Lockwood couldn’t help but to have her words echoed in his head. When was the last time she painted? When was the last time they went to the museum? When was the last time they went to a library just to lend some overrated novel?

I don’t know anything about you outside of work anymore.

Lockwood slowly looks up, painfully looking back at her and Kipps who are now scribbling some notes on the clipping board he was holding for her. That used to be their thing. Even with George in the team, he would often brainstorm ideas with her first, him holding the notebook and her holding two pens with different colours— black for him and blue for her. Seeing her do it with Kipps now torments him to say the least.

What I want you cannot give, Anthony.

—-

Lockwood’s shoulders stiffened as he watched her approaching. Her gentle smile was present but for the first time in his life, instead of feeling comforted, Lockwood feels intimidated. The sight of her and Kipps still burns in the back of his head and his realisation of how much he’s lost her is something that he’s still trying to process.

“Hi,” She greets “Where’s George and Lucy?”

“Having a stroll around. George wanted to get a better idea of the building and you know Lucy had to make sure he didn’t wander too far away.”

She nods, “Why didn’t you come with them?”

Because I wanted to talk to you, he thought, but instead Lockwood only shrugs, “Just needed some peace for myself.”

“Oh, I’ll leave you—.”

“No,” He says fast, taking her wrist before she could leave “Please, stay.”

She looks down to his grip, taking a shaky breath before slowly peeling his fingers off of her. Lockwood swears that the day just keeps on getting worse and worse for him. But she stayed by his side, not leaving. Standing still as she looks everywhere but him. God knows what she’s thinking now.

Lockwood blinks to try and process the unfamiliar situation. His heart was crushed, worse than the state he’s been in and he thought he was already broken. It’s as if he could finally feel the distance she’s been talking about. The invisible space between them that he didn’t realise was present until it’s too late to close it. The wall that’s separating them is too high to be climbed now.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” She breaks the silence, reaching into her back pocket and still not meeting his eyes “I got you this. It’s nothing much, just a postcard I got when I went out of town. I should’ve sent it but I didn’t have the time, sorry.”

He took it gratefully, a genuine smile blooming on his face, ”You went to Liverpool?”

“Yeah, with Quill. We had a mission there for a couple days.”

“I see.”

Lockwood’s lips are on a tight line now. Just how blessed he is today, indeed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call for your birthday.” She says again “I wanted to, but I thought it would wiser for me not to.”

“Why not?”

“People don’t call their ex-employer and tell them happy birthday, Anthony.”

Ex-employer. Anthony thought he knew heartbreak until he heard the word come out of her lips. All these years of friendship, affection and tenderness shared with each other, reduced to such improper status. Whatever chance he thought he had to fix their relationship, Lockwood knew that it’s all gone into mere specks of dust now.

She finally looks up to him, realising the hurtful words she’s just uttered. It didn’t feel as horrible in her head but having to hear it herself she couldn’t help but wanting to slap herself. Since when has their relationship turned into who could hurt the other most?

“Anthony—,”

“No, I get it.” He cuts, nodding and feigning a smile “I’m glad you found an agency that could better appreciate your talents.”

Her expression softened, feeling guilt to weigh more on her shoulders.

“I know this would be wrong of me as your ex-employer to ask,” Lockwood says, his voice trembling as he tries to bottle his emotions “But can I please hug you?”

She winces at his use of words, how unsure he was with his question when they used to pull each other for warm embraces with bright smiles on their faces. She runs to him with open arms, pulling him close as if she needed the hug herself.

Lockwood could feel his body practically melting into her touch, the way his aching muscles finally relaxed as the familiar embrace was finally engulfing him once more, but his heart was heavier than before. If he thought he lost her the night she gave him her resignation letter, he was certainly proven wrong. This hug feels like the bitter slap of reality. That he was the only one crumbling, that he was the only one breaking, that he was the only one suffering from their separation.

And farewell tastes even bitter now.

 —-

A couple of weeks have passed since the Ball meeting. A couple of weeks have passed since he last saw her. A couple of weeks have passed since Lockwood’s started to live his life as half a dead man. He’s been busy with other missions, trying to satisfy as many clients as possible and it’s looking pretty neat to say the least. Just don’t look too closely at him. You’d notice how he’s slowly slipping out of his mind if you do.

Just reckless enough, Lockwood chants in his head every time he’s working on the field. Holding onto the warnings George gives and all the ever so friendly scolds from Lucy. But even with as much reminder and support the two could give, it would never be enough to fill in the void in his heart.

Just reckless enough, Lockwood repeats to himself. Turning those three words into a prayer somehow as he’s slowly losing his grip. The only time he would brush the thought of her under the rug would be when his rapier is out, trying to fight for his life, trusting his instinct to swing the weapon against whatever trouble he’s come across, be it in the flesh or ectoplasm.

Just reckless enough, Lockwood muttered quietly as he tried to keep his focus. His shoulders were heavier by a thousand folds. The sight of that innocent man caught in the crossfire between him and some relic thugs tonight haunts him. How that poor man fell to the ground as Lockwood tries to flee from the scene, unintentionally using the man’s body as a shield from the bullets shot in his direction.

Now his feet were wobbly, trying their best to support him as he followed George and Lucy from behind, walking to 35 Portland Row with a heavy heart. No words were exchanged on the drive home and no matter how worried Lucy’s eyes stare into him, he knew that she’s seething inside.

“You two go first,” Lockwood says, making the two stop their pace and stare at him with confused eyes “I have somewhere to be.”

George could hear the exasperated sigh Lucy let out and with one unsure smile, he took the source from Lucy’s hands and entered their home. Better to secure the relic from the upcoming war between the two, he thought.

“Lockwood,” Lucy starts “Not tonight.”

HIs lips pursed. Cursing that if Lucy’s talents were listening and touch, why is it that it’s so easy for her to read him like an open book?

“You need to rest.” She says again “ You can visit her tomorrow morning.”

“I need to see her tonight.” Lockwood whispers, his tone begging “I think I’m losing my mind, Luce.”

Lucy remains quiet, her expression softened as she stares into his vulnerable state.

“I killed him.” He says, voice breaking and eyes brimming with tears “I don’t know why I couldn’t just stop and think straight lately. All I could think about is finishing as many jobs, retrieving as many sources as possible, all in an effort to bury her, to have a minute of peace without her ghost haunting my mind.”

Lockwood’s last words came out barely as a whisper. His whole body shudders, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see that pitiful look on Lucy’s face. He didn’t hear her approaching but he could certainly feel her arms embracing him, trying to calm him down in the middle of the road. It was soothing, the kind of warmth that would keep you sane for the time being, but no matter how tight Lucy holds him tonight, she knew that her friendly gesture wouldn’t piece his sanity back together.

I need to see her.

—-

The tapping of raindrops to her window pane was soothing. A cup of freshly brewed tea, her favourite cardigan hanging loose on her shoulders, and a half read book in her hand. The night was peaceful for her. After a long week of complicated tasks, working with Kipps’ elite squad, such serenity is surely what she needs.

But her comfort was abruptly interrupted at the ringing of her doorbell. Whoever the guest was, they're surely impatient enough to not wait for another second to press on the bell whilst banging on her door at the same time.

She clicks her tongue, frowning at the disturbance. She places her book down, “Coming!”

Perhaps her guest has trouble hearing because even though the trip from her kitchen to the front door didn’t even reach a minute, the person was still banging on her door loudly. At this point she was sure the rain hardly dampened the loud noise they were making.

“Good Lord, I said I’m coming!” She says angrily as she opens the door.

She certainly didn’t expect her guest to be him. He was standing by the door, drenched so wet from the rain that you can see his shirt clung tight to his skin. His eyes were reflecting the emotional and physical fatigue he’s in. His shoulders defeated, chin hung low as if he’s a second away from passing out.

“Anthony—,”

The boy gave into her and pulled her for a tight embrace, melting into her like butter on a pan. He hugs her close, burying his face to the crook of her neck. Her body warmth was so comforting. After all these painful months, Lockwood finally feels like he’s home.

The boy hasn’t spoken a word but she knew that something had happened. Something so bad that it shook the façade he held so strongly to the ground. It was one of those moments when you just knew. Like a silent secret connection you share with someone special. Because otherwise, there would be no chance in hell that Anthony John Lockwood would go all the way to her flat in the middle of the night when it is raining cats and dogs.

“Please tell me you’re here.” He whispers.

“I’m here.”

And just like that all hell broke loose for Lockwood. His breathing is now shallow, chest tight as if he was being drowned in a lake. His embrace on her loosen. His feet weakened, making him fall to his knees. His demons have finally caught him.

“Anthony, breath.” She says gently, kneeling to level with him “Breath with me, okay? Follow my counts.”

“I killed a man.” He chokes “I didn’t mean to— He sacrificed himself— I should’ve gone to Barnes— I can’t breathe.”

She tries to peel herself from him, to try and assess his condition better, but the moment she tries to pull away, Lockwood only tightens his hold of her.

“Anthony, you need to let me go.” She whispers gently “Let me help you breathe, please, Love.”

Reluctantly, Lockwood loosens his embrace and lets her pull away. His hands are now busy pulling his tie and opening the first few buttons of his drenched shirt. His mind was frantic. Never has he ever had such an episode before.

She begins to count, helping him steady his breathing. Five seconds in, five seconds out. Then four seconds in, seven seconds hold, eight seconds out with a whoosh. Once his breathing starts to get better, she asks him light questions. Five things he could see, four things he could touch, three things he could hear, two things he could smell, and one thing he could taste.

“I can smell tea.” He says between his pants “Are you making tea?”

She let out a small chuckle, relieved, “I did make tea. Would you like some?”

Lockwood nods.

“Let’s fix you a cup then.”

—-

Lockwood could feel his brain waking up, his senses coming alive as he smelled her sweet scent and felt the pressure of her body on his arms. He smiles. Sure they've cuddled more than one could possibly count, but never have they felt as intimate as now. Their bodies were pressed to each other, her head tucked close to his chest, and her arms securely encircling his waist. It was as if he could feel her radiating the kind of love he's been desperate about.

“Good morning.” She greets, he could tell that she’s smiling sweetly without opening his eyes “I know you’re awake.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“Then how can we converse now if you’re still asleep?”

Lockwood pulls her closer, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Alright, you’re breaking my ribs now.” She says with a chuckle “I have to run to the bakery and get us some food. You didn’t eat anything last night, you must be starving.”

“I’m fine.”

She clicked her tongue in disapproval, “Come on, Anthony, wake up.”

“Can’t I sleep for a few more minutes?” He asks, finally opening his eyes to see that her face was mere inches from him.

Lockwood gulps. She was staring at him tenderly. As if she missed him as much as he missed her. The corner of her lips were curved upward, making her look ever so beautiful. Even in the morning, perhaps especially in the morning, she looks the most stunning with her tangled hair and lazy sleepy eyes. A sight he would never get enough of.

“I’m gonna do something,” He whispers to her “If you don’t like it you can deck me later but please do it gently.”

Her brows knitted, smiling at his half spoken words.

With a loud beating of his heart, Lockwood leans closer to her, sealing their lips for a few seconds in a chaste kiss. It was an innocent one. The kind you give to your lover when you want them to know just how much you appreciate them and that is all he wanted to do. To tell her that he appreciates her, with a gesture that he hopes would explain better than words could ever do. All he wants to do now is just to let her know that.

Lockwood opens his eyes nervously, scared to see her negative reaction but to his luck, he could only see her smiling back at him. Like she accepted his message and is returning the feelings for him.

“Alright, you deserve a few more minutes of sleep for that.”

He chuckles, pulling her back for another tight embrace.

“Anthony, I really need to get us some food.” She protests “You need to let me go.”

“Stop wiggling.”

“Then let me go.”

Lockwood groans but let go of her anyway. His brows furrowed in disapproval, lips pursed in an annoyed frown, and despite his growing disappointment that she won’t be joining his quick extra nap, he knew that she has a tight schedule for the day and keeping her late for her breakfast wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do.

She lets out a satisfied sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed before looking back at his sleepy self, “Promise me you’ll still be here when I’m back.”

Lockwood nods and hums in agreement. His hand searches for hers, still with his eyes closed, and plants a kiss on the back of her hand. He caresses it with his thumb before letting go gently, “I won’t go anywhere.”

If only Lockwood would open his eyes for a minute, he would’ve seen the bright smile on her face. How her cheeks were flushed and the lovestruck eyes she has for him. But he was busy trying to recompose himself. What he did just now has certainly burned all their bridges to the ground. He has never been this bold, never that fearless and taking the leap of faith for their relationship, and yet he did. He needs to process this before he could see her again.

How the universe seemed to have aligned their stars together now.

Lockwood heard the soft click of the front door closing when she left. He finds it hard to fall back to sleep now from all the adrenaline rush. His lips were still curved in a satisfied smile. He feels giddy. Like his body was supercharged and he could conquer the world now. Funny how she could turn his world upside down just with a snap of her fingers.

He now finds himself getting up from the bed and looking around her flat. He could see the pictures that were glued to the walls of her room in 35 Portland Row now decorating the sitting room. Even when she doesn’t live with him anymore, it soothes him to know that she brought a piece of their home wherever she goes.

He heard the front door knob twisting, turning to see it with a happy smile, “That was fast.”

But the happy face was soon slapped off of his face as he stared at the man standing. Kipps were mirroring his confused look, staring at each other with the silent question: what are you doing here?

And then it dawned in him. Lockwood looks down to the shirt he’s wearing, the one she let him borrow to get out of his soaked clothings. The plain white shirt that fits him right but is certainly oversized for her. Why would she have a men’s shirt?

“Kipps,” Lockwood greets with a lump growing on his throat “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“The same could be said for you.” Kipps said, his tone unsure but his usual smirk was decorating his face “Is she here?”

“She went to the bakery.”

Kipps nods, giving him an ‘ah’.

Lockwood bites the inside of his cheek so hard that he could feel the foul taste of blood from it. He should’ve known better. Why didn’t he think about it before? Why didn’t he see it? How could he forget that she was no longer his? Hell, she was never his to begin with.

“I, uh, I just remembered I have some things to sort out.” Lockwood says as he shuffles to gather his belongings.

“You’re going?” Kipps asks “Aren’t you going to wait for her first?”

“No,” He says, shaking his head “It’s something about work. Rather urgent, actually. She’ll understand.”

Kipps frowns, knowing that she would certainly not understand but nods anyway, “Right.”

With a forced smile, Lockwood pats on Kipps’ shoulder and finds himself out of her flat. He could feel his heart getting heavier with each step further from her. Like his heart was left there, on her bed, the moment he promised to wait for her to return. But what exactly could he do? He knew his place, even when he'd forgotten about it last night. He forgot and he was made to remember. She was no longer his. 

She was Kipps’.

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood fanfic #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood scenarios #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood angst #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x oc #anthony lockwood scenario