#lockwood and co imagine

[gay-dorito-dust]

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

"Your lucky your cute"

"Wait, you think I'm cute"

"Was that your first kiss?"

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

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

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

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

“Oh.” He uttered under his breath.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing other then Anthony Lockwood felt real to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#lockwood imagines #lockwood imagine #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood and Co imagines #lockwood and Co imagine #lockwood and Co x reader #lockwood and Co x you #Anthony lockwood x reader #Anthony lockwood x you #Anthony lockwood imagines #Anthony lockwood Imagine

[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 <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

[lockmad]

In another world (adult) Lockwood fucks like Owen gray

#i am so sorry #this is a sin #i had to say it #if you don't know who he is dont look it up #lockwood and co #lockwood and co fanfiction #locklyle #lockwood and lucy #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood smut #anthony x lucy #lockwood and co imagine #cameron chapman #ali hadji heshmati #lockwood smut #ruby stokes #lockyle #anthony lockwood x reader #i am sorry #this js a sin #owen gray

[neewtmas]

Could I request a Lockwood and sibling reader fic? Where reader and Lockwood have a massive argument and are ignoring one another until they go on a mission and reader gets injured and Lockwood instantly feels guilty? Like a nice mix of angst and fluff honestly.

Sibling Squabble

That is such a lovely idea, thank you so much for the request <333 also no idea if the title makes sense, but I really like the word squabble

pairing: anthony lockwood x sibling!reader (technically gn)

wordcount: 2.3k

tagging: @maraschinomerry (let me know if anyone else wants to get tagged :)

masterlist

Lockwood was pacing up and down in the living room, face red with anger. You knew you looked the same as you stood by the door, hands clenched to fists by your side. You'd been arguing for the past ten minutes about a case you'd gone on alone last night.

"Y/N, god knows what could have happened to you! How can you be so irresponsible and stupid to go there alone? With no backup? No one to step in when the whole thing goes wrong?"

You were so angry at him, it took everything in you to not just storm out and slam the door in his face. "Oh, okay! So when Lucy does it, she's oh so skilled and a great addition to the agency and you trip over yourself to tell her so and if I do it, it's irresponsible and stupid?!"

Lockwood's face got redder if that was even possible. "Leave her out of it! This is not about her!" You glared at him. "Yeah? Well, I couldn't care less! If you think I'm so useless, just see how you can run your stupid agency without me!" You whirled around, and slammed the door behind you, satisfied with how the sound echoed through the entire house. You knew how much Lockwood hated it when you did that. For the rest of the day, you locked yourself in your room. Lockwood did not try to talk to you.

Usually, preparations for a case were times of chipper productivity in 35 Portland Row. Lockwood would be out purchasing items such as salt bombs and flares that you were running low on, George was in a library somewhere gathering information about the ghost you were about to eliminate, and you and Lucy would be the ones polishing rapiers and stocking up everyone's belts. But today, the atmosphere was tense. At breakfast, you had ignored each other completely. Neither George nor Lucy had to ask what was wrong, your yelling and screaming the evening before had been enough.

Around midday, Lockwood had left without saying anything, and you could tell Lucy was uncomfortable with the situation. You couldn't blame her for wanting to not pick sides in this fight, but you also knew Lockwood was sulky because she hadn't picked his side immediately like she usually did if he had a quarrel with George about something entirely irrelevant.

The two of you sat in the kitchen, surrounded by all sorts of supplies. You hadn't talked much throughout the afternoon. "Do you plan on apologizing?", Lucy broke the silence. "Not that I think you have to", she added quickly as she saw your expression. "I just - I mean, one of you has to, right?" "It should be him. He's the one who called me incompetent." Lucy sighed. "You know he's just trying to look out for you." "Yeah well, I can look out for myself." You shrugged. "I don't want to be babied." You could tell that she wanted to say something but decided against it. You also knew she was right, your brother just wanted to look out for you, but you did not appreciate how he was doing it.

Dinner that evening was weird. After George had laid out everything he found out about the case for tonight, he and Lucy had attempted to get some sort of conversation going. After neither Lockwood nor you participated, they gave up and the rest of the meal was spent in an uncomfortable silence. You could feel Lockwood looking over at you several times, but you pretended not to notice it.

After dinner, you got ready and then loaded your duffel bags into the cab that was waiting in front of the house. The location of tonight's case was an old house that had been vacant for a few months after the old homeowner died. Kids in the neighbourhood had noticed some activities in the house after dark, moving shapes and other light, even though technically the house had undergone the mandatory cleaning by DEPRAC. According to George, the only recorded incident of someone's death in the house was a little child a few decades back. Official records listed a lung infection as the cause of death, but George had also found several short articles and opinion pieces in local papers that indicated that some people had doubts about this.

After you had set up your camp in the kitchen, you all sat around the table for one last review of the information George had gathered. The floorplan of the house was simple enough, three rooms on the ground floor, and those same three rooms on the floor above. Lockwood glanced at his watch. "Almost seven", he said. "High time we get on with it. George and I will take a look around down here." He looked over to Lucy as if you weren't even in the room, and she seemed to understand what he wanted. "We'll go upstairs then," she said.

The wooden steps of the staircase creaked ominously as the two of you slowly moved upstairs. As usual, Lucy had her hand on the bannister, but she didn't seem to get any supernatural activity yet. You didn't bother, as your talent wasn't listening. Rather, you had an excellent sight and could also see death glows, just not as strong as Lockwood. The first room you checked was the one above the kitchen. The temperature was the same as the reading you took downstairs, and the room seemed entirely un-supernatural. Neither of you could hear or see anything, so you moved to the second room. This time, you could still not see anything, but it was noticeably colder. A glance at the thermometer showed a three-degree drop.

Lucy moved around the room, brushing her fingers over the wallpaper, over the gigantic dresser in one of the corners, but when she returned to you, she shook her head. "I'm getting absolutely nothing", she said. "It's just really cold in here. And I think I can feel some miasma building." You could feel it too, so you offered her a gum and took one for yourself before you moved on to the third and final room. For a moment, you listened for any sign of Lockwood and George downstairs, but they seemed to be fine.

Lucy slowly pushed down the handle and nudged the door open with her foot. The room was mostly dark, besides a square of moonlight on the wooden floor that shined through a window. A big bed stood on one side, with a closet, similarly as huge as the dresser in the other room, opposite it. The air that hit your face was almost freezing. Without saying a word, you and Lucy pulled out your rapiers simultaneously, before you stepped over the threshold. "Now we know why the other room was so cold", whispered Lucy, her breath small puffs of white. You zipped up your jacket as you looked at your thermometer - another five degrees less. That was a dramatic drop. Maybe this job was not as easy as it had sounded on paper. "Should we get Lockwood and George?" she asked quietly, as she began the same procedure of skimming over the walls. You thought for a moment but then shook your head no. You didn't want to have Lockwood here right now. Negative emotions around a ghost were never a good idea, and right now that described your attitude towards your brother pretty well. Instead, you focused on the room before you.

Your eyes wandered along the walls, over the old wallpaper that had started to peel off at several spots. Over the bed, that was not made, and looked like someone might crawl back into it at any second, over to the wooden closet. That's when you saw it. Lucy was bent over the bed, feeling the blanket and the bed posts, when suddenly, an arm reached slowly through the closet door, grabbing after her. The arm was small, like a child's, and you yelled for Lucy to turn around. She acted quickly, swatting the apparition away with her rapier and hurried back to the corner you were at. "It must be the child George talked about," you told Lucy, trying to keep your voice level. "You think the source is in the closet?" she asked. "Didn't George say the child was buried?" "I mean, it doesn't have to be the corpse, right?"

Lucy didn't reply, and for a moment, everything was unnaturally silent. So silent that you could hear your blood rush through your body. But that was short-lived. The staircase creaked, and seconds later George and Lockwood appeared in the doorframe. "Downstairs is nothing", George declared and you motioned him to be quiet. "Yes, that's because it's up here", you hissed, pointing your rapier at the closet. "Lucy almost got touched just now." Lockwood was quick to be by her side, checking on her. "Are you okay Luce?" You rolled your eyes. "So what's the plan?" George asked from behind. "We lay out some chains, wait until it comes out, three distract it, one secures the source that must be in the closet" you suggested, and no one seemed to have any issues with your plan. George made a chain circle in the corner of the room furthest away from the closet, while the rest of you waited with raised rapiers.

It took a while, but as the time moved closer to midnight, the air in the room got even chillier and wisps of green other light began to gather in the corners. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the small hand you had seen earlier emerged through the door of the closet, but this time the rest followed. It was a little boy, no older than five, with unruly hair and clothes that were too big for him. He looked almost like a real person if it weren't for the otherworldly glow. His expression was sad as he floated towards you slowly. Lockwood gave the sign and he and Lucy stepped over the chain towards the bed. The little ghostboy immediately changed direction and you slipped out of the circle and rushed over to the closet. You ripped the door open and were surprised to find it stuffed full of clothes. You had no idea what you were searching for, so you just started tearing at the piles of clothes, throwing them on the floor behind you. "You must be close!" Lucy called, and you could hear the familiar sizzling of plasma against a rapier blade. "He's getting angry!"

You knew your time was limited, and Lucy and Lockwood could only distract the ghost for so long, so you pulled out another pile. Behind it, in the corner, on some crumpled-up shirts sat a teddy bear. It was covered in spiderwebs, one of the button eyes had fallen off and it looked to be in a rather bad condition, but you knew at once that this must be the source you were searching for. "I got it!" Frantically, you tried to remove the silver net that was attached to your belt.

"Y/N! Careful!" You whirled around at the panic in Lucy's voice and were face to face with the little ghost boy that was barreling towards you. Time slowed down as you watched Lockwood throw himself over the bed, rapier raised high. You stumbled back in shock, with no control over your body as Lockwood's rapier cut through the shape of the ghost and it disappeared in a rain of plasma. Next thing you knew, you felt a sharp pain in your left upper arm and your knees gave out under you, the pain and shock too much for you. Lockwood cursed and threw away his rapier, dropping down next to you. "Shit Y/N, are you okay?!"

You nodded weakly. Your left arm was burning, and as you glanced over, you could see your jacket and shirt were cut open, revealing a nasty gash that was bleeding pretty heavily. Lockwood kept cursing under his breath as he helped you up. "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I didn't mean to -" "It's okay." "No, it's not." Lockwood looked at you, eyes wide and paler than you'd ever seen him. "This could have ended so much worse. Shit, I could have killed you!" The wound on your arm throbbed. "Lockwood, it's just a cut. One bandage and it's gonna be fine. Besides, you saved me from being ghost-touched." He didn't seem convinced. "Nice to see you're talking to each other again, but I think we should go before Y/N bleeds all over the floor." George held up the teddy bear, wrapped in a silver net. "I've got the source, the case is completed. Let's get out of here."

Downstairs in the kitchen, Lockwood insisted on constructing a make-shift bandage out of a kitchen cloth Lucy found in one of the drawers, then you packed up your stuff and headed back to Portland Row.

"Sit down on the chair." Lockwood had dropped his duffle bag at the door and was already rummaging through the drawers in the kitchen. You sat down, and Lucy helped you out of your jacket. Lockwood came back to the table with a first aid kit and a bowl of warm water with a piece of cloth, with which he started cleaning up the cut on your arm. "Forget everything I said yesterday, okay? You're not stupid. It's just that I don't want to see you get hurt." He started to wrap the bandage. "It's okay Lockwood. I guess you were maybe, possibly, a little tiny bit right when you said it was irresponsible to go out on a case alone." He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe, possibly, a little tiny bit?" You chuckled at him. "Absolutely. Don't think you won this fight."

thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated :)

#lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x sibling!reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood and co imagine #lockwood & co imagine

[nomournersonefuneral]

Manifesting season 2

#lockwood and co imagine #george karim x reader #norrie white #lockwoodandcoscene #Lockwood #lockwood and co #lockwood & co

[peachymaryobrien]

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

#renewal when im never letting it go #imagine the siege of Portland Row in action omg #save lockwood and co #lockwood and co #locknation #locklyle #jonathan stroud #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george cubbins #george karim #lockwood & co #lockwood

[kestisvrse]

bad for business

pairing ⋆ anthony lockwood x gn!reader. fluff with a bit of angst. fake dating.

synopsis ⋆ the three times you found yourself fake dating anthony lockwood.

warnings ⋆ swearing, reader is implied to be shorter than lockwood, being followed, kissing (written by someone without their first kiss send help). | wc: 1.4k

♫ - bad for business by sabrina carpenter

1. a walk home

“ladies first.” you snort at lockwoods comment as he holds the door for you to exit arif’s, a box of donuts secured in your hands.

“wow what a gentleman.” you joke making lockwood laugh a little as you begin your walk towards home, a comfortable silence falling between you two, a minute or so passes.

“someone’s following us.” lockwood says nonchalantly, you furrow your eyebrows looking at him, “he was standing outside arif’s when we went in, he was staring at you the whole time and now he is getting closer.” lockwood says looking over his shoulder, shuffling slightly closer towards you.

“well what do we do?” you ask slightly panicked.

“hold my hand.”

“i’m sorry?” you say, he failed to answer as he grabs the box of donuts out of your hands, using his free hand to intertwine your fingers.

“just trust me okay? maybe if he thinks we are together he will leave us alone.” lockwood clarified.

“o-okay, i guess” you mutter, a light blush painting your cheeks at the feeling of his thumb lightly rubbing your hand.

you were nearing portland row, you and lockwood standing closer together, you freeze up as he places a kiss on the top of your head to nonchalantly glance behind you two, “i see him, he is walking away. just… keeping holding on until we get home… just incase.” you nod, silently agreeing with him.

he didn’t let go of your hand until he placed the box of donuts on the kitchen table.

2. too close for comfort

lockwood had convinced you, lucy and george to go to this ‘ball’, you honestly didn’t know what to call it. it was a fancy building filled with agents dressed up and the adults that exploit their talents for money, celebrating nothing in particular and somehow, lockwood and co. got invites.

lockwood looked like he was at home, while george uncomfortably tugged at the collar of his button up and wandered off with lucy, leaving you and lockwood, standing in the middle of the ballroom.

“why are we here, lockwood?” you pried.

“why not? every agent in london is here.” he responds.

“that doesn’t mean we have to be.” you shot back, annoyed by a man who pushed past you, causing you to knock shoulders with anthony.

“it’s a good opportunity, to meet new people and get our name out there.”

“with our competition? yeah alright. i need something to drink.” you wandered off.

some time had passed, it included you leaning against the wall observing everyone that passed by, you had found george and lucy at one point where george had gave up and went home while lucy decided to investigate around for god knows what. you decided it was time to find lockwood again.

wandering around aimlessly you spotted him in the sea of tuxes, talking to a blonde girl, in a blue 90s like prom dress, inching closer and closer to lockwood.

you rolled your eyes at the sight, lockwoods charming smile seemingly working again, but it didn’t look like he used it on purpose this time.

“there you are, i’ve been looking for you everywhere!” you smoothly entered the conversation, linking your arm with his and his whole face seemed to light up.

“oh.” the blonde commented, squinting her eyes, “who’s this?”

“i’m-“ he cut you off, taking the lead.

“this is my partner.” lockwood replied, you smiled at the girl as she realized she misread the situation, quickly saying goodbyes and walking off.

“i couldn’t tell if you needed saving or not.” you explained, a hidden apology heard beneath your words just incase he was enjoying the girls company.

“no i did, thank you.” he said, making eye contact, “maybe we should head home now?”

“let’s find lucy first.” you suggested, and he sent you a grin.

that damn grin.

3. distraction

you had warned him.

you had told him there had to be a better way to get information that didn’t involve breaking and entering. but as per usual he used his charisma and webbed you into the whole plan.

and now, you two were running down alleyways, after being caught. ‘i told you so’ repeating over and over again in your head as you focused on running, and of course you reached another problem.

“shit!” you whispered, lockwood dragging you back behind a wall, your only escape had multiple body guards roaming the area.

“how the hell did they even get there.” lockwood said to himself.

“what do we do?? there are two other body guards about to block off the way we came from!” you panted out, catching your breath from running.

“i have a crazy idea.” lockwood made eye contact with you, he seemed nervous as he ran his hand through his hair.

“all your ideas are crazy, anthony.” you countered.

“just listen okay?” he whispers, you slowly nod, “if we can make it seem like, we have no idea what’s going on around us and that we accidentally stumbled up here maybe they won’t think it’s us.” you gave him a blank stare.

“what are you even suggesting right now lockwood?!” you grumbled, faintly you heard footsteps approaching.

“we do not have time for this, do you trust me?”

“do i have a choice?” you quipped, but suddenly the conversation was over as he cupped your cheeks and suddenly his lips were on yours. you froze up, you expected his plan to be anything but this, but then you heard the footsteps turn the corner and you needed to act just like him, quickly kissing back.

his lips were chapped, rough against your soft ones. as you brought your hands up to his face, his hands moved down to your waist, pulling you closer. it felt eager, like you had been waiting to do this forever, and it felt right.

“HEY!” you two snapped apart from the loud yell, breathless as you stare at the taller man infront of you “this is private property, you kids can’t be here.” his tone was threatening, making you tense up.

“we are so sorry sir.” you replied sweetly, “we didn’t know, we will leave right away!” you grab lockwood’s hand and hurried towards the exit before the man could question you anymore.

you held hands all the way home, but didn’t mutter a word to each other.

4. overdue confession

it had been around a week since lockwood had kissed you. you hadn’t spoken. the house having an awkward atmosphere as you avoided lockwood like the plague.

you couldn’t avoid the knock on your door, unfortunately.

“come in.” you called out from your spot on the bed, expecting lucy to walk in but were met with lockwood.

he was wearing his usual suit but he looked disheveled, his tie loose, his hair slightly messy and he looked so tired, even more tired than usual, he was a mess.

“hey.” he spoke just above a whisper, scared any louder you would run away from him again.

“oh. hi.” you sat up in your bed, suddenly looking anywhere but him, fiddling with your hands.

“i want to apologize, i shouldn’t have kissed yo-“ he began.

“we wouldn’t have gotten out of there if you hadn’t, it’s okay.” you stated, sniffling slightly. your bed dipped as he sat down.

“then why won’t you talk to me?” you looked up to his eyes, “please talk to me.” he begged, you looked into each others eyes for a moment.

“i was avoiding you because of the fact that i.. i didn’t want the kiss to end.” you confessed, “i like you, lockwood, and i didn’t want to ruin anything so i thought avoiding you would be better..” you trailed off, the air was tense as he stared at you.

“oh thank god.” he laughed out.

“what?” your anxiety kicked in, as you stared at him.

“i was scared to confess, i’m glad you did first.” your eyebrows furrow at his response, “i really like you, i have since i met you. i didn’t want the kiss to end either.”

your eyes widened slightly, studying his voice for any sound of sarcasm.

“can i kiss you again?” he whispered, scared of your rejection, you just slowly nodded looking down at his lips, he lent in.

his lips weren’t chapped this time, they were soft and you took notice of just how well they fit against yours. this kiss was softer than the first, it washed your anxiety away, and the tense air disappeared. he pulled away and laid his forehead against yours.

“i thought i was being dreadfully obvious about my feelings.”

“you were not.” you laughed at him

“oh no i was, you are just oblivious.” he responded

“shut up.” you said, and he did as his lips met yours yet again.

#lockwood netflix #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #anthony bloody lockwood #lockwood x reader #lockwood and co #x reader #lucy carlyle #george karim #netflix #lockwood and co netflix #fake dating #oblivious idiots #sienna’s fics

[trousers-are-for-wimps]

i like to imagine that when holly joins she asks george “are lockwood and lucy a couple?” and george just says “let me put it this way: everyone in london knows they’re a couple except them”

#lockwood and co #save lockwood and co #lockyle #locknation #i’m cackling imagining all the conversations that weren’t described in the books

[websterss]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇 𝐌𝐄 — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: Heyy! Could I request an Anthony lockwood x reader where lockwood gets injured on his side on a mission so at home reader helps him take care of it but he has to take his shirt off. Basically full of fluff

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): A lil bit angsty with some fluff

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,881

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader  

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! :) I added angst cause I couldn’t help myself. Anthony Lockwood screams angst lol.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

“Can you stand at all?” Lucy gave a once over to the boy pressed up against a stone. Lockwood grimaced as he felt an ache course up through his rib cage. He faintly nodded a yes to lessen Lucy’s worry over him.

“I think I can manage.” He smirked to mask the pain he was in. “Though I could use a hand.” He reached up, eyes falling onto George. The curly haired boy met his hand and helped him onto his feet again. A muffled grunt didn’t go over their heads. One silent glance of communication was enough to agree to head on home. A home where you currently waited for the trio in. 

“Y/n is not going to be pleased about this.” George grimaced.

“So don’t tell her.” Anthony scowled with a grimace.

In a series of cases you would accompany them. The trio originally being a quartet, but after a case with a type two and a torn ligament. Lockwood thought best to keep you under house arrest, much to your chagrin, though you happily obliged to his wishes. Staying home at least until your foot is fully healed. That meant you weren’t allowed to apply pressure to your injury, thus preventing you from doing normal human things. You did your best to offer your knowledge and help out in terms of research, but you would much rather be out there in the field, another thing Lockwood was firm about, no forms of physicality. You hated being homebound, stuck staring at the small four walls of every room in the house, though you knew as much that Lockwood would have a cow if he so much saw you anywhere else but within the apartment. The bloke nearly panicked one day after you stepped foot outside to fetch the mail. Now you wondered how he would react once he knew about your rendezvous scales up and down the staircases. Your foot was far from healing at this point though you obliged. Wanting to keep the peace.

What seemed like a never ending wait, quickly vanished as the familiar twist of the doorknob got your attention from the living room. You hastily pushed yourself up to stand, hobbling towards the entryway. Your smile greeting your tired friends. Lucy reciprocates your smile, whereas George brushes past you with a curt nod, and Anthony…well he has yet to meet your eyes. You glance over at Lucy in hopes of an explanation, but she only further replies with. “It was our most difficult case yet. I’d give him some time.” You place your hand over hers that fell onto your shoulder in passing up towards her room. Your hand lingering on your shoulder. Tucking your neck in, as you subconsciously tether on your good foot. All your weight applied to your left side.

“Anthony.” Your voice rings out but it’s a faint mutter. Loud enough to dance in and out of his ears. You didn’t dare raise an octave. Too scared to break the silence with so much as a raise of your voice. “Ant-“

“Please.” He begs, shaking his head. Not in the mood to be lectured or frowned upon, he wouldn’t be able to bear it, seeing a frown on your soft features. He already got a glimpse of your worry stricken facade. He didn’t want to add on to your concerns. He didn’t need you to strain yourself over the horrible ache in his right side, not when you had your own injuries to worry about. His breathing becomes labored, his jaw clenches. The visible vein popping against his forehead makes your smile downcast.

“You’re hurt, Anthony.” You point out the obvious. You sigh, closing your eyes for what you knew was about to be a stubborn battle that was about to commence.

“It’s nothing.” His voice shakes, making his brave exterior falter. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Show me.” You gesture to the side he holds.

“I’m fine. No need to get over dramatic on me.” He straightens out with a smirk. His arms open wide for emphasis. “You have your injuries. I have my own. Goodnight, Y/n.” You roll your eyes, letting him brush past you slowly, then watch him ascend onto the second level. You wait a second then follow after him. Your slow thudded steps are not missed by him. He stops as he reaches the last step. Watching you hold the railing to support your climb. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”

“Wondering if you enjoy pissing me off.” You retort. You land on the deck with a huff. “Wow, that does not get easier.”

“Have you been practicing?” The realization hits him hard. His jaw drops, as two and two come together. You climb with ease, quite possibly faster than he could with his injuries.

“It was either I sit around all day. Or ascend the stairs. What do you think?” You pat his chest. Walking ahead and into his room. You turn back around to face the brute still gaping at you in the middle of the hallway. “Now show me!” You gesture for him to enter. He hesitates, but obliges. Coming into his room, and shutting the door behind him. He glanced up at you, waiting patiently for him to let you tend to his injuries.

“You really ought to just head on to bed. I’ll be fine.” He suggests, rather than fall vulnerable under your now narrowed annoyed eyes.

“And you really ought to know when to shut up.” You motion with your head to his bed. He averts his gaze, looking anywhere that isn’t your hard glare. He knows you mean well, but feeling the full blunt force he received when he fell against his ribcage. He didn’t want to imagine what his side appeared as if it’s caused him this much pain already. He didn’t want to burden you. See you in such pain. Your nurturing and caring stature is something he adores. You always look after others when you should apply such tendencies to your own self. You put others needs before your own, and right now, he knew after showing you how bad he was suffering, how much he was hiding, your mind would linger on this moment for a long time, until your mind occupied something new to dwell and overthink about. It’s why he’s so hesitant to even sit on the edge of his own bed.

“When will you stop being so stubborn and ask for help?” You walk over to the corner of the room, collecting a small aid kit, you recommended Anthony keep, in times of need, and situations as such. He had the tendency to gain a few cuts and bruises here and there. Overworking himself, and hardly gaining any sleep.

“Why bother? You see right through me every time.” The corner of his lips lifts. Eyeing you carefully as you set the box beside him. You roll your eyes, bringing a vacant chair over in front of him to help you clean up his wounds. You scoot until your knees brush. You sigh once more, meeting his eyes that have yet to leave yours.

“You’re right. I do see through every bullshit attempt of feigning okay.” You nod. “Though I wish more than anything that you’d tell me instead. That you’d use your words instead of having to see pain written over your face. I wish you’d tell me, Ant.” Your eyes begin to water. As do his. He holds your gaze, letting his walls tear down to allow you a second of entry.

He nods knowing that he definitely lacks verbal communication. He nods because he knows how this all affects you. He nods because you're the only person who truly sees him. Who doesn’t push him, but encourages him to find his voice and let his guard down around you. A tear falls down his cheek. “It hurts.” He finally allows himself to admit.

You hastily nod, swallowing down the ache in your throat. You sniffle as you try to gain your composure. “Where?”

“It’s my side…” He grits his teeth. “I fell on my side.” He closes his eyes as you go to lift the bottom shirt. His hand quickly stops you from pulling the shirt upwards. “No, no, no. I don’t want you to see. If it hurts this much then it can’t be far from looking bad.”

“Anthony please.” You plead. “I need to see so that I can help you. Make sure you don’t have a broken rib or worse!”

He thinks about it before giving in. His grip on your hand lessens up. You meet his gaze for a brief second then slowly go to lift the hem of his shirt. You lift and lift until his mid section is revealed to you. Your audible gasp has him thinking the worst. You reach out to touch him but stop. “I-I need you to remove your shirt.” You clear your throat. Tears brimming your eyes again. Your teary eyes lift to meet his now concerned ones. “Can you remove it?” You don’t even need his answer, his injuries do look as bad as he says he feels. A firm shake of his head is all you need to help slide down his blazer past his shoulders. Once carefully removed. His shaky hands fumble with unbuttoning the buttons. You take over and start from the top to the bottom. Once you reach the last button, you halt your movements. The overly confident person you are diminishing in a heart heart. Your cheeks grow warm as you overthink about the compromising position you just put yourself in. A shirtless Anthony was not something you thought you’d encounter.

You undo the button and push the shirt open. His chest, now revealed and his bruising and cut now more visible. Your breathing comes out shaky as you go to grab a cloth and disinfectant spray. Your eyes fleet back to his chest, shamefully letting your eyes take in his build. Anthony was a sight that was always sure. Despite the bags under his eyes, and overconfidence, you can see past it all and gawk at his attractiveness. His ego was now surely boosted as his eyes crinkled mischievously. A smirk prominent on his lips as he watched you try and subtly avert your eyes elsewhere, like towards his injuries, but your gaze flickering between his own eyes and open chest has him finding this whole predicament amusing. 

“You’re bashful.” He teased, reaching forward to poke fun at your cheeks.

“I am not.” You scoffed at his accusation. You denied him, reluctant to let him see that he was winning and you were losing, very very badly. 

“You know if you wanted to rid me of my shirt, you only needed to ask.” His laugh broke the barrier, the evident grimace now apparent as he grunted about the pain he felt. He had to make a mental note to not shake of laughter, at least until he got better and his side wasn’t currently sore. 

“Keep laughing, see where that gets you.” You chuckled, yet the familiar twinkle in his eyes was now reflecting back at him. “Besides…who says I wanted to see you shirtless?” Your eyes fail you as you chance a look at his chest again, then to his knowing stare. You let your head fall wanting to avoid confronting him and your clear feelings for him. Though the slight lift of your chin by his own hand has you thinking that the feelings you hide might not be all so invisible to a certain someone. 

“I say.” His face inches closer, the warmth of his breath closer to your lips than you wanted. The smallest flicker down to your lips then up to your e/c irises does not escape you. Your breath hitches when he lets his head lean against yours. Heads now pressed together. His hand still lingers under your chin, never retracting or falling back down to his side. “I am so utterly grateful for you, Y/n. I don't know what my life would be like if you hadn’t walked into my life.”

“I didn’t exactly walk though now did I?” Your smile widens. Eyes crinkling at the corners as you pulled back to look at him. “More like fell.” You laugh, reminiscing over your first encounter with each other. Another one of your cases gone wrong, you fell backwards when Anthony had opened the door your back was pressed against. Two strangers meeting under a ghostly scenario. What more could perfectly describe your bond with one another? 

“You were scared that day.” He remembered. You nodded.

“I was…It was my first case. I was on my own till you showed up.” Your stomach flutters under his gaze. You fiddle with the cloth in your hands. “I’m glad you did though. You saved me that day.” You let out a breathy laugh. His eyes never faltered, never fleeting. His gaze was intense, wanting to remember every little detail about you. This life you all lived, nothing was ever truly promised, you and him weren’t so easily promised. Tomorrow could come, but there’d be the chance that you wouldn’t. He was so afraid of losing you. Losing the team, and ending up alone like how he was after his parents died. He was trying to hold onto you all until he couldn’t anymore. 

“No.” He denied it. “You saved me.” He adjusted himself into a better sitting position. Straightening up. You gave the faintest smile. Looking away in hopes to lessen your flustered state. You saved him, and he saved you.

“You okay? I bandaged up the wound as best as I could, but you’ll need another clean up tomorrow.”

He looked down to observe your masterful work of art. He nodded reassuringly that he was okay. “Nothing a few pain meds can’t fix.” He joked, but saw you hesitate. “I’m okay. The pain isn’t as bad anymore.”

“Sure?”

“I promise. You’ve cured me.” He beamed.

“I wouldn’t go as far as that but I do try my best.” You began gathering the mess you made and all the opened wrappers.

“No, you are the best doctor anyone could ever ask for.” He placed his hand over yours stopping you from cleaning up after yourself. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me everytime I bandage you up Lockwood.” You reminded him. You’d help him any day given, no questions asked. “I want to help.”

“Thank you for everything you do for us.” For me, he wanted to say. You rolled your eyes and gathered up all the trash. You moved the chair back to stand and was stopped by Anthony’s grip on your wrist again. “You okay?” Your brows furrowed, looking down at him. He strained himself, using your arm for support to stand up to his feet. His breath shuddered as he stood silent for a second. “Anthony you okay?” He nodded in response. Then he grew flustered himself. You opened your mouth to speak again but clamped it shut when he leaned forward. His lips pressing a soft gentle kiss against your cheek. Your eyes widened in surprise, and your breath hitched in the back of your throat. Your dilated pupils met his own that were widened in shock of what he had just done. Your grip on all the trash loosened causing all the scraps to fall and float towards the bottom. “Oh I uh-” You scrambled, bending down to collect all the trash. Anthony raised a hand to rub the back of his neck subconsciously. He did not expect you to react this way. 

“Sorry here let me-”

“No it’s okay I got it-” You waved him away. Though as you rose to your full height and he lowered closer to the ground, your heads budded against each other. You both groaned, touching the areas that collided. 

“I’m so sorry-” He began, grimacing as the pain in his side returned.

“It’s fine!” You reassured him, rubbing your aching headache.

“No really. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I caught you off guard and I-” He was then cut off by your own lips. You pulled back in haste. Eyes widened in shock. You reacted impulsively and your mind said to kiss him, so you shut him up. “Oh…” He was the speechless one this time. 

“Sorry-” You began. He held onto your shoulders, shaking his head to reassure you. 

“No, it's fine. I just didn’t expect it.” You nodded in response this time.

“I’m gonna go now…” You answered lamely, gesturing with your thumb to the door. “Let you get some rest.” You took a step away only to be stopped once more. The tug on your forearm causing you to turn back around to face him.

“Stay.” The four lettered word caused your heart to skip a beat.

“Stay?”

“I want you to stay.” He muttered softly.

“You want me to stay?” You breathed out softly.

“I do. Please stay…If you want to of course!”

“I do.” You nodded surely.

“Okay.” His smile grew, tugging your arm to lead you closer to him. 

“Okay.” You breathed out a laugh as you continued to let him tug you closer. 

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x fem!reader #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood oneshot #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co x reader #my gif #writings by juls

[gay-dorito-dust]

Taglist: @wordsarelife @flareish @novausstuff @mahirublue

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#lockwood and co imagine #lockwood and co x you #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co imagines #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lockwood imagine #lockwood imagines

[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 : 6.7k

warnings : language ig?

content : a lot more plot, i'm settling all the elements i need to move forward and write pt8 (which i've been fantasizing and imagining since day 1 lol), reader meets Lucy and the gang finally has a plan

taglist : i've lost track lol @demigoddess-of-ghosts @cassiopeiia24 @archiveoftara

note : again i'm sorry this took so long, the weeks keep getting busier and the time flies by faster and i got hit with writer's block too at some point i think idk but i'm on vacation in three weeks and it should help (i hope) anyway i hope you enjoy :)

She didn’t know if she was still dreaming or not when she heard hurried footsteps climbing the stairs. She could hardly move and even though her eyes were open, all she could see were blurry shadows and the greenish light from the ghost lamp outside. For a moment she thought the voice she heard calling her name was her mind still playing tricks on her but the hands that grabbed hers were definitely real and convinced her she was awake. Someone turned on the light, blinding her. She blinked to see Lockwood sitting next to her on her bed, clutching her hands and asking if she was okay. George entered the room practically running, holding a rapier he must have taken just in case.

“We heard you screaming, what happened?” He asked, seemingly out of breath.

“I-I uh… um” She cleared her throat. “I gotta…”

She made a move to get out of bed.

“Come, we’ll make you some tea.”

George helped her up. Lockwood didn’t let go of her hand until she was out of reach with a concerned look on his face. He didn’t say anything, he just kept his gaze fixated on her.

George supported her down the stairs, though she didn’t really need it. But she felt bad that she woke them up, so she let him. Lockwood was in front of them, looking back every once in a while, to make sure she was okay. She must have really scared them to have them acting this way. Or they cared more about her than she realized.

They got down to the kitchen and Lockwood put the kettle on. George brought a blanket from the library to cover her, but she was still sweating from her dream and needed fresh air more than anything.

“So…” George started as he settled into the chair next to her.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Yes, we gathered that much…” Lockwood spoke for the first time in a while. His voice was hoarse, his tone serious. She would have felt like she was being reprimanded if his eyes hadn’t been so filled with worry. It made her want to apologize profusely.

“Though it sounded like you were getting murdered.” George added.

A heavy silence fell over the room. The two boys stared at her expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“I tend to have intense dreams.” y/n finally said. “It doesn’t happen every time, but they can be very realistic. And that girl… I keep seeing her, but she never screamed at me like that.” She looked into her cup, images of the girl screaming at her flashing before her eyes.

“What girl?”

“I keep seeing this girl, she’s always telling me to find her and to look for her but I never know what she means. To be honest I had forgotten about her. But tonight, she just screamed at me, it was so loud you have no idea!”

“Actually, we sort of have an idea…” George said, burying his head between his arms. He looked like he was about to fall back asleep.

“I didn’t know I was actually screaming I’m sorry…”

“That girl screaming at you was all it took to wake us up in the middle of the night?” He mumbled.

“It’s not just that, I was in this haunted warehouse with agents attempting to clear it, the case went wrong, horribly wrong it was awful. I couldn’t move, I tried to help but I couldn’t do anything, I just stood there and watched.”

“Do you know who she is?” Lockwood asked. It looked like her story had piqued his interest.

“I have no idea… and I don’t know why I need to find her…”

“Maybe it’s just a dream, it doesn’t have to be a premonition. Don’t overthink it.”

“That way we could go back to sleep...” George said, his eyes now closed.

“You should go back to bed, I’m fine really. Thanks for the tea. And for checking up on me. That was sweet of you.”

They both gave her a warm smile. It made her feel even more guilty that she woke them up.

“George really you should get upstairs, you’re barely awake.”

He made a poor attempt at a protest but soon gave up and went back to his room. Lockwood was yawning too.

“You should go too, I’ll go back to the attic in a bit.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Lockwood really I’m fine.”

“I don’t care I’m staying until you get back to sleep.”

She settled back into her chair, sipping her tea in silence. Lockwood was standing against the countertop, doing the same thing. She put her cup back onto the Thinking Cloth and tried to bring up her legs closer to her chest. The chair was too small and she bumped her knee into the table.

Lockwood took her mug and left the room without a word. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow him or if that was retribution for waking everyone up. She did anyway and found him in the library. He was settled on the couch, both their mugs resting on the coffee table beside it. She sat next to him and brought her legs up next to her, drawing her closer to him. She draped a blanket over her and took back her cup. Even though she was comfortable, her mind still hadn’t calmed down. She kept seeing images from her nightmare, the girl’s face screaming at her, the heavy doors closing on her teammates, sealing their fate. She was glad Lockwood stayed with her, his presence was comforting.

She finished her tea and put her mug down on the table.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.” She said, sleepy-eyed.

“You should go back to bed, we have a lot to discuss tomorrow”

She stared at him wondering what he meant.

“Now that we’re officially involved in this whole Dufour mess we need to see how we’re going to clean it up.”

“Oh, right.”

“You look half asleep already, I’ll help you get back to the attic if you want.”

“No, don’t. I want to stay here, I don’t think I’d be able to fall back asleep in my room tonight.”

“Alright.” He hesitated. “I could… read to you if you’d like. It always helped me when I had nightmares as a kid.”

“I’m not a child!”

He was already picking a book from the bookshelf on the wall opposite the fireplace. He came back to settle next to her, bringing her closer and settling her head against his chest.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned with you it’s that sometimes it’s nice to have someone looking out for you.”

“Oh really?” She teased, but she was too exhausted to really give him a hard time.

“You have to ask for help sometimes.”

“Says the guy who couldn’t ask someone to tie his tie for him.”

He nudged her leg with his foot with a laugh. She settled against his chest to get more comfortable and when she finally stopped moving, he started reading in a low voice. The monotonous tone he kept rocked her to sleep. His arms kept her warm. She could feel his steady heartbeat beneath her fingers. She nodded off almost immediately.

When she woke up, the sun was already high, bathing the room in a soft glow. She slowly opened her eyes, feeling an even breath in her hair. Lockwood was still asleep, looking much more peaceful than she had ever seen him. His arms were wrapped around her, keeping her warm. It was more comfortable than the time she woke up with George on the other side of the sofa, probably because this time she was cuddling with her bedmate and not trying to share a couch too small for the both of them. It ended up being a relaxing night after all, the waking up part making up for the nightmare. They were breathing in unison, fitting perfectly in the tight space of the sofa. Her mind was still blurry, she wanted to fall asleep once more to stay in the peaceful state she was just in. She snuggled closer, her face in the crook of his neck as she hugged him tighter, when she realized what she was doing. She was hugging Lockwood, and he had his arms around her. And for the briefest moment she felt like he was hugging her back. Suddenly it all felt wrong. They were colleagues. He was her employer. And landlord. They had a job to do together. During her time at Fittes she never let herself get too close to her teammates, at least not that way. It had happened once or twice that she found herself attracted to one of her colleagues, but she always kept her distance, thinking of the disaster that could have happened if she had let her feelings take over. And yet here she was throwing caution to the wind and allowing herself to get closer than she had been with anyone in a long time. As hard as it was, she pulled away slowly, trying to get up without waking him. She could’ve sworn she felt him holding on to her, trying to pull her back, but once she was on her feet she saw him turn on his side, still asleep. Her imagination was playing tricks on her, giving her false hopes. She covered him with the blanket she had last night, studying his relaxed features. It was unfair how good he looked when he was sleeping. She forced herself to get into the kitchen before George could catch her staring.

It was a close call since he came down as the water started boiling in the kettle. He looked more awake than he had earlier. It eased her guilt knowing he had managed to get some rest.

“I didn’t hear you come up last night.” George remarked as he poured himself a cup.

“After I woke you up in the middle of the night I thought you’d be grateful for that.”

“I’m not complaining I’m just wondering if you got any sleep after that.”

“I did.” She smiled without adding anything, sipping her tea in silence.

“I didn’t hear Lockwood either.” He said innocently while stirring his tea. He didn’t sound like he was simply checking up on her anymore. His voice had an edge with the slightest hint of insinuation.

“You were so exhausted you could barely stand. I wouldn’t be surprised if you had slept through one of us falling down the stairs from the attic to the ground floor without opening an eye.”

“Actually, I had a hard time falling back asleep.” He took a sip looking up at the ceiling.

She didn’t answer. Whatever she could have said would have led to more teasing anyway. She blushed. He just smiled before offering her a biscuit. She didn’t get why he reacted that way. He was looking at her like she had something to hide. But he had fallen asleep with her on that same couch and it certainly hadn’t meant anything! Though, if she was honest with herself she was just annoyed that he could read her like an open book. She took a biscuit out of the box he was handing her, avoiding his knowing eyes and proud smirk.

“I’m guessing things are better between you two then…”

“I came up last night to tell you so, didn’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Before she could throw the nearest dish towel at him Lockwood came in. An awkward silence fell over the room. At least y/n felt the tension. Lockwood didn’t seem to notice and George was back to pretending like his biscuit was the most important thing in the world. He was right of course, things really were better between them. So much better that she wished she could wake up this way every morning.

She didn’t let herself think about it. Nothing good could come of this. Except of course the comfort she felt when she was in his arms, the butterflies in her stomach that danced to the song playing in her mind whenever he looked at her. She froze. She needed to clear her head and started to walk out of the kitchen. Maybe taking a shower and getting ready for the day would help.

When she came back down, she could hear the boys arguing. The debate didn’t sound heated, so they were probably discussing an upcoming case.

“I’m telling you it’s far more logical to do it this way!”

“You never listen to what I have to say!”

She pushed the door open.

“What’s this all about?”

“Ah, y/n I’m glad you’re back.” Lockwood said, walking towards her and putting a hand on her shoulder. “I keep telling George that we should focus on discovering who is at the head of the whole relic operation but he won’t listen.”

“You’re the one not listening! We don’t know enough about the operation to aim so high right away.”

He slid his hand down to her arm. “What do you think?”

His touch was enough to make her mind go blank. “I- um... you’re catching me off guard. Could you walk me through it?”

“Well, I think that focusing on Dufour isn’t useful anymore. Since we know she isn’t in charge we should let her be and focus on whoever is behind this.”

“And I think we could still learn a lot from what she does and follow her.”

“Those are both… good points…” She was still very aware of Lockwood’s hand resting on her arm. She wasn’t used to this. He had been distant most of the time those past few weeks and the sudden change really disturbed her.

“Well, I know I’m right!”

“And I am too! You’d see that if you weren’t so stubborn.”

It really was the pot calling the kettle black. She tried not to laugh at their argument as she crossed her arms, not so subtly removing Lockwood’s hand form her arm.

“You should just go your separate ways then, meet up later today to debrief the info you both get?”

“Yes, I guess we could do that.” They both nodded. “What do you do then, y/n?” Lockwood asked her, crossing his arms.

“I’ll go with George!” She said, realizing it came out a little too loud. Lockwood shot her a confused glance. “I’m just… curious to see what she’s up to… is all.” She tried to justify.

Lockwood briefly frowned before approving their plan, telling them they should meet back at the house at 4pm.

---

“You jumped awfully fast at the chance to come with me on this stake out.” George commented.

“I’m always excited at the thought of working with you Georgie!”

He rolled his eyes at her. She wasn’t being subtle, and he let her know it.

“Plus, I’m genuinely curious to see what this bitch is up to.”

That got a laugh out of him.

They were heading towards the Fittes building to see if maybe they could spot their nemesis stepping out to run one of her fraudulent errands. As they got closer to their old employer’s offices, she noticed familiar faces. She spotted several agents she used to see down Fittes corridors. As they crossed the road, she passed a guy who used to be on her team. She waved politely but was met with a dark stare. She couldn’t remember anything she could have done to upset him, then realized it was probably the aftermath of that offensive column. Her pace quickened, fueled once more by anger. She was determined to see what that horrible woman was up to and most importantly to find out how to bring her down. She was so furious she could have just walked into her office to strangle her. Hopefully George grabbed her arm and led her down a street far enough to remain unseen. He kneeled down to get out a hat and a pair of sunglasses out of his bag.

“Put these on, we don’t want Dufour to recognize us.”

“What are these eggs for?” She asked as she tried on the sunglasses.

“They might come in handy if we spot her car!”

It would have been a great relief, but she didn’t have time to appreciate the mental image she got. Dufour was getting out of the Fittes building across the street, seemingly in a hurry, carrying a large duffel bag. And so, the stake out began.

They tried to keep enough distance to remain discreet and followed her for the next hour. They weren’t sure that following her would lead them somewhere useful or if they would learn anything new. The fact that their old supervisor kept walking without stopping didn’t help. y/n even started to think that she didn’t have a destination at all and was just messing with them. That was until they reached an imposing building located near Clerkenwell Road. As Dufour got closer to the glass doors at the entrance, she looked around as if to make sure no one saw her go in. y/n and George had to hide several times behind cars or newspaper stands to avoid getting caught. The first time she turned around y/n felt her heart sink as she pulled George down with her, crouching behind a parked car. But it was a good sign, it probably meant that she had something to hide. They remained far from the building to remain unseen. George eagerly wrote down the address in his notebook. She could tell how pleased he was with their discovery before he even turned to congratulate his plan, his smile getting wider with every letter he wrote. They waited for her to come back out. She took her time. When she finally emerged from the building an hour later, she didn’t carry the bag anymore. Whatever was in it had to be valuable. Dufour started walking back the way she had come. They ducked and slowly entered the nearest café.

Since it was only 2 and they were starving, they decided to take a break, unable to come back out without being seen anyway. They settled at a table far from the window. They ordered tea and some pastries to share and discussed different theories, trying to figure out what the woman could be up to.

“Given her track record it’s fair to assume that her bag had sources in it right?”

“I’m surprised Fittes didn’t bat an eyelash since she started her operation. I mean she can’t be that subtle…” His eyes lit up. “What if Fittes was involved?”

“Maybe…” She didn’t want to bring down his enthusiasm but she was already picturing him getting way too far from the matter at hand. “Let’s focus on bringing her down for now. If you’re still mad at Fittes after that we’ll see what we can do.” She said with a laugh.

“Right. Then we should try to see what this building is.”

“It’s the Silverpoint Organization building!” said a voice behind her that made her jump.

“Norrie? What are you doing here?”

“Hey George! Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I came to see my girlfriend, she just started her shift. But then I saw you two and I knew you had to be discussing something interesting given all the rumors these past few days… I couldn’t resist.”

“Actually, you could help us a lot!”

y/n greeted the girl as she sat down next to her. The last time she had seen them was at the furnaces. Apparently, the chat she had with George that night inspired her to do some investigating of her own. She had paid closer attention to the weird things she had noticed and caught a guy stealing a source red-handed. Not only did she get the source back to burn it but she also managed to get some information out of him. y/n was really impressed.

“So, I made him understand that he’d better tell me what he wanted to do with the source. That’s when he told me he was to bring it to this building across the street. I dug a little further and turns out it’s the Silverpoint Organization, whatever that is.”

“I’ll have to look into that.” George said while scribbling in his notebook. She didn’t think his smile could get any wider and yet it did.

“Hey! I didn’t know you were passing by!” called a voice behind them.

Norrie turned around to greet her girlfriend. The girl sat in front of her, saying something about having some time before the beginning of her shift. She had short wavy hair, auburn color, almond brown eyes. Her face was round and delicate. She looked friendly, but the warmth of her smile wasn’t enough to keep y/n from freezing. After all, that girl had woken her up in the middle of the night screaming just a few hours ago.

---

“And that’s why we should go after the money trail.”

Lockwood had been talking nonstop since he had walked through the door. He didn’t notice the heavy silence filling the living room. Or the haunted expression on y/n’s face.

“So, you somehow got your hands on an envelope supposedly used by that old man, who you think runs the operation, to pay a relic man who, again supposedly, brought him sources and that’s enough to convince you that you have a proof of the transactions?” George’s eyebrows were furrowed. Confusion filled his stare and his mouth was slightly agape. He looked baffled and not in a good way.

“That’s not all I found, didn’t you listen to what I just said?” Lockwood retorted, unfazed and still so sure of himself. “I have a reliable source telling me that they saw the guy take the money out of the envelope and it also has a strange code on it that has to link him back to wherever the money’s from. There must be a record of it somewhere. They wouldn’t bother writing such a long code on an envelope that gets left in the street if it didn’t have a purpose.”

“And you think this maze is worth getting lost in?”

“We won’t get lost! Like I told you I have contacts to help us out!”

“With relic men transactions? I’d love to meet them.” George still didn’t seem convinced.

“So, what do you think?” Lockwood asked with a triumphant smile, ignoring his friend’s objections.

“You don’t even care a little about what we discovered?”

He looked around the room, finally conceding them a glance. His smile fell as he looked into her eyes.

“What happened?”

It was George’s turn to talk restlessly about their day. Y/n looked at their exchange back and forth and listened to George tell Lockwood all about their successful stake out and their encounter with Norrie. There were times where she couldn’t focus on what they were saying, too caught up in the strange feeling that had followed her all the way home. Lucy had been lovely and tried to make her feel at ease even though y/n had stared at her like a deer caught in headlights for the better part of five minutes. They exchanged a few words about adapting to life in London and leaving agency work behind, though only partly for Norrie who wanted to do her best to help even without being back in the field. They never mentioned the incident that had led them here, just that they had left agency work. y/n knew why the girls had decided to change their lifestyle but nodded and smiled without ever referencing her dreams. She thought it would probably freak them out plus she didn’t want to bring up the horrible event that probably traumatized them in the first place. She tried to focus back on George’s explanations. He was excited to start researching the Silverpoint Organization. It was obvious that Lockwood was frustrated that his idea hadn’t gotten the attention he thought it would have. He sat back to let George talk with a barely hidden exasperated look on his face. But when he locked eyes with her his face slightly softened, allowing George to finish his theory.

“You’re awfully silent, y/n.” Lockwood said as he came to sit down next to her on the couch.

“We met Lucy today.”

She was met with a questioning stare.

“The girl from my dream.”

This triggered more frowning.

“As it turns out Norrie’s girlfriend Lucy is also the girl who woke me up screaming.”

George was still scribbling in his notebook. Lockwood didn’t say a word.

“I don’t really get it either. Hence the silence.”

He grabbed her hand in both of his. He was gentle, like her bones would break if he made any sudden movements.

“Do you… want to talk about it?”

“I don’t think there’s a lot to talk about for now.” She said gently. She still didn’t know what to do with this and didn’t want to burden anyone. “But thank you…” She took back her hand, smoothed down her skirt and sat back, coincidently distancing herself from him. “How about we just get back to Dufour?”

“Right…” He flexed his hand while looking down. He looked back at her, his usual smirk curving his lips. “You can’t let it go, can you?”

“Remind me when you let go of your rivalry with Kipps?”

He smiled, pausing for a second. There was a complicity in the look they shared. The butterflies in her stomach fluttered their wings. She pushed the feeling down as much as she could, trying to win their staring match without blushing. She failed, obviously. Lockwood got up with a satisfied look on his face.

“So, what should we do? I mean… I think my lead is pretty solid…” He said looking up at the ceiling.

“No, it’s not. It’s numbers on a torn envelope Lockwood!” George retorted.

“What do you think y/n?”

“When it comes to instinct, you told me to always listen to George and I followed that rule religiously since I joined the agency.”

“Like following the rules is going to help us with your revenge plan…” He rolled his eyes. But he didn’t look offended or disappointed. He looked…proud?

“But fine it’s two against one anyway and I’m a fair leader. We’ll start with this organization and see what we find.”

George didn’t need more. He rushed back to his room, slamming the door with a renewed determination. They probably wouldn’t see him again until dinner. A silence fell over the room. Her mind wandered, going back to the girl haunting her nights. She had asked her to find her and she had. Now what? She didn’t feel relieved, and meeting that girl hadn’t felt like she was fulfilling some prophecy, accomplishing her fate in a high-pressure decisive moment. What if she had been too late? What if from the start she was supposed to help Lucy save her team? Maybe she was cursed with the guilt she had felt in her nightmare, forever unable to sleep soundly again.

A hand resting on her wrist brought her back to reality. Lockwood had sat back down next to her and was stroking his thumb back and forth on her skin in a soothing way.

“We’ll work it out.” He reassured her. “The answer could be in the extensive research George will make us do.” She looked at him unconvinced, but she appreciated his effort to make her feel better.

“He’s not gonna let us rest, is he?”

“I wouldn’t count on it.”

“On the bright side, if I’m exhausted it might keep my mind off this.”

He held her hand tighter before letting go. She almost reached for his arm to get him to sit back down next to her. As he told her to get some rest before the busy day awaiting them, she ran back upstairs, her wrist still tingly.

The week that followed was in fact a busy one. They followed a strict schedule of intense research, rigorous preparation of their cases and efficient ghost clearing. The military-like organization was all George of course. He took the habit of waking them at 7:30 sharp by knocking repeatedly on their door until they were up to tell him to stop. They were among the first people present at the archives. Each day George assigned articles and newspaper respectively to Lockwood and her while he worked on the case they had that night. At noon they would switch, George looking over their research while they got familiar with the case before heading home to prep their bags for the evening. It was exhausting but she had to admit that it was yielding results. In just a week they had uncovered detailed information about the organization, how it was founded, who it was founded by, and why it was created in the first place. George had summed up the information both in their casebook and on the Thinking Cloth. Every morning as she drank her cup of tea she could read:

“Silverpoint organization – 1996 – founder Theodor Mullet of Mullet & Sons

TM eldest son and heir to M&S, created Sp Org to “further his father’s legacy” and protect agents against field injuries unrelated to ghost-lock

One fundraiser organized each year

Strong link to M&S rapier supplier

Funds from Fittes?

No financial records or official information available”

She couldn’t help feeling insulted that she slept so little only for their hard work to be summed up in a few lines. She didn’t complain however, at least she had helped find some of this information. Lockwood on the other hand was out of his depth. Research had never been the part he excelled at. He was too impatient and couldn’t sit still. By default, George took the lead but y/n could feel Lockwood’s pride taking a hit. If George, resident researcher of 35 Portland Row, was now in charge, what good was he? He tried his best to remain helpful by offering theories of his own. He kept insisting that the lack of financial records was suspicious and that his hunch was right. Of course, he did so without an ounce of pettiness and repeated that they should have listened to him from the start. y/n had a hard time believing him. His frustration started to show and it affected his work. During cases at night, he was bolder, trying to show off. At one point they were fending off a visitor which could have been easily handled at two while George looked for the source yet he picked this time to demonstrate the new move he had been practicing all day. The night had ended with a rush to the hospital and three stitches.

Today was a close call too. He had jumped down a flight of stairs to get between her and a visitor. She thought he probably had good intentions but she had her rapier ready and the situation was under control. It was a relief to see he didn’t break anything, a miracle frankly. She didn’t need a third time to decide to act. She would talk to George in the morning to convince him to spend some time looking into Lockwood’s lead.

They came back home exhausted, George going to bed immediately to stick to his schedule. She was about to do the same when she noticed the light was on in the library. She wasn’t surprised to see Lockwood sitting there with one of his magazines in his lap, acting like the day had no effect on him. He simply smiled at her when she entered and kept reading. She told him that he should rest. He simply hummed in agreement but didn’t move except to turn the page. She was about to give up and leave him there when he bolted up to show her the page he was on. It was a double page ad for an open-door day at Mullet&Sons, inviting clients to try their new line of rapiers and meet the board. The perfect occasion to get closer and hopefully find out more about the founder of the Silverpoint Organization. A light brightened his eyes as he smiled at her. She was certain he wouldn’t shut up about his finding.

A call the next day brought their enthusiasm back down. Right before they left for the Archives, Inspector Barnes had called. Lockwood had answered. His smile had faltered as the conversation went on. He hung up and stayed silent until George asked him what he wanted. Apparently, the inspector had called to warn them again. Only this time the threat had become much more real. Superiors at DEPRAC had taken an interest in the complaints against them, mostly to get Fittes off their back Lockwood thought. But it didn’t matter why, what mattered was that the ridiculous rehabilitation program offered by an unqualified journalist was getting more consideration than originally thought. One mishap would turn y/n and George into the first test subjects of this “educational” experiment. They were now under more surveillance than before. Sneaking into Mullet&Sons offices during their next event was out of the question, they’d be the first accused.

They stood in the hallway in silence, unsure what to do next. Researching more at the Archives seemed futile now.

“I might have an idea.” Lockwood said.

They looked up at him expectantly.

“We go after the financial records.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Lockwood.” George swore. She understood his frustration. Being right didn’t matter now, and this was really not the time. Plus, stealing financial records wasn’t much better to remain far from suspicions.

“Lockwood…” She looked up at him. “We don’t have a way to do that legally and we’ll be the first interrogated. How could we even give evidence to DEPRAC, if we ever find any?”

“We get ourselves an airtight alibi.” He said proudly, like it was obvious.

They stared at him with a beaten expression, still not knowing what he had in mind. He went to the library and came back with the magazine he was reading last night. He eagerly handed it to them, open on a page featuring one of those fancy parties that took place occasionally. Though it wasn’t just any party, it was a fundraiser for the Silverpoint Organization. The next fundraiser was taking place next week and for the occasion an article was referencing last year’s event.

“We get into this party, make sure that everyone sees us and hopefully get some information about Theodor while talking to the guests.”

“But what about the records?”

“We’ll need some extra help.” He said before winking at her.

---

“By getting traces of the transactions between the organization and relic-men we can bring down the operation. And for that we need your help.”

Lockwood was back to his usual self. Charming, self-assured and most importantly in charge. The two girls in front of him had very different reactions. Norrie seemed to have made up her mind already, looking over at George every once in a while like she was in a hurry to get to work. Lucy was more skeptical. She looked like she was battling conflicted emotions. y/n didn’t blame her. They barely knew each other and they were asking her to steal financial records. They had just given up on a whole life, trying to adapt and they should throw all that away to help people they had just met? It was madness and y/n felt bad for asking them such a thing. But she didn’t really have a choice. Aside from them, there weren’t a lot of candidates.

After his whole speech, Lockwood sat in front of them, determination piercing through his eyes. He quirked his lips up in the slightest. She knew all too well this intense stare and irresistible smile. She hadn’t managed to turn him down, not many could. He spoke in a softer voice to try and convince Lucy to join their cause. And it was working, she was considering it. She said she needed time to think it over. But Lockwood wasn’t usually patient. y/n knew what would come next. A compassionate and understanding tirade so sincere you couldn’t help but join his side. But she knew what Lucy had been through, she was there sort of. Not ten seconds after Lockwood had started speaking again she interrupted.

“Lockwood stop.”

“Is there something wrong?”

“Don’t do this, just give her some time to think it over.”

“We don’t have a lot of time y/n!” He turned back to Lucy. “And as much as I understand the difficult position this puts you in-”

“Just shut up Lockwood!”

George sighed and buried his head in his hands. Norrie asked him what was wrong.

“They had just started to get along!”

y/n ignored his comments.

“Lucy, I’m sorry if we made you uncomfortable. I completely understand if you don’t want to join us and stay far away from anything agency related. I just think that we can trust you and we desperately need allies right now. We don’t need a definitive answer now, but do you think you could give it some thought… maybe?”

Lucy looked up at her with a softness in her gaze. She was scarred, that much was clear. She seemed afraid too. But there was much more than that. There was resilience and bravery. An ember in the ashes.

“I’ll think about it.” She said with a thin smile. They exchanged a glance that was enough to make y/n feel a deep connection to the girl. She reached for Norrie’s hand as they exited the room. There was so much more she wanted to say to her. She wanted to tell her about her dreams, about the relief she felt now that she got to know her. The platonic attraction she felt was overwhelming. She had never wanted to be friends with someone so ardently. There was something special about her. She didn’t know if it was El’s betrayal that left a scar or if her dreams were a sign of a deeper bond, but she desperately wanted to find out. She led them back in the hall and slowly closed the door behind them.

She turned to find Lockwood staring at her with a hurt look on his face.

“What the hell was that?”

“I’m… sorry…”

“I’ve been jumping through hoops with you since I met you and I’m getting tired of it.”

Her heart sank.

“Yeah, that’s fair. In my defense, I knew what you were doing and I couldn’t in good conscience let you go through with it.”

“What was I doing?”

“Faking compassion to get what you want.”

“Oh please, not that again. I was just trying to get the help we need. We’re in this mess because of you need I remind you.”

“Lucy’s been through a lot and she deserves genuine sympathy, not some fake act you put on every time we have a difficult client. I still have nightmares about what happened to them, you can’t imagine how it feels.”

“I can actually.”

There was a silence. He looked deeply hurt. She didn’t dare speak, knowing the matter was probably more sensitive than she realized.

“I’m doing everything I can to help you and I need you to be more cooperative. I’m not risking the reputation of my company if this is the thanks I get.”

“You’re right…” She said after a moment. “I went too far.”

He nodded. They stood in silence, neither of them daring to move.

“Just don’t be mean to me again.”

“I won’t.”

He turned to enter the kitchen.

“I wasn’t really mean though…” She said on a hesitant tone. “I was rude sure. But mean… Kipps is mean. He degrades you and all…” She didn’t even know why she said that. A desperate attempt at lightening the mood, giving Lockwood a reason to redirect his anger at someone else. It was pathetic. She could already see herself unable to sleep months from now living the shame of this moment all over again.  

“Oh, so you agree with me now?” He answered turning around. “When did you take the “best leader of the best team” off his pedestal?”

She smiled.

“You’re still a bigger prick than he is though.”

He smiled back.

“Tea?”

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

[lockmad]

Finding the Lockwood & Co show on Netflix, FULLING absolutely in love with it all!!!, then 3 weeks later, breaking up with my boyfriend of 2 years

 it’s like the universe saw it coming and was like “here’s something to get you through those lonely nights girl” ✨✨🥲🫡

#Who needs a man when you could have Anthony Lockwood? #lockwood and co #locklyle #what the fuck is my life #The actors in Lockwood and Co cause me to have bi panic #lockwood and lucy #lockwood and co fanfiction #bi panic #anthony x lucy #lockwood smut #anthony lockwood smut #cameron chapman #ruby stokes #ali hadji heshmati #Ali is hot #anthony lockwood #lockwood and co imagine #lockyle #anthony lockwood x reader #smut

[alexiethymia]

Listen, book!Lockwood who is so repressed that it just translates to beaming smiles has a special place in my heart, but at the same time I cannot stress how much I appreciate the live action series for showing us unbelievably exhausted Lockwood who’s so obviously scared that Lucy and George will eventually leave (willingly or otherwise) but still has the gall to push them away. My boy was barely pulling it together. And ofc he would be so tired that the bags under his eyes are so prominent because we’re outside of Lucy’s POV now. Lucy who’s always had rose-colored glasses when it comes to him.

Speaking of Lucy, I really do love how she calls him out. She’s so aggressive with her love. It’s like she’s demanding that George and her will love and care for him and there’s absolutely nothing Lockwood can do about it so he just better shut up and take it. Peak found family right there.

How that scene where Lockwood comes to apologize to Lucy in the kitchen had so much ‘husband in the doghouse’ vibes, and how ultimately what Lucy is really mad about is just her wanting Lockwood to value his life more. And for Lockwood to outright admit that yeah he was a bit suicidal but it’s a bit like he found a new reason for living because of Lucy and George, again I say PEAK FOUND FAMILY, this is my jam. The ease of which Lucy being Lucy calms him down. (Ugh, again the domesticity of choosing egg cups). He can’t stand when she’s mad at him and he learns about apologizing properly this time around, but when she wordlessly forgives him, you can see on his face how he could fall so quickly and deeply in love with her. That’s one thing I love so much about the live action series. While the book showed us more of Lucy’s feelings for Lockwood, I actually think the series highlights Lockwood’s feelings more in that if I hadn’t read the books beforehand, I could have easily seen it as Lockwood falling first. His abandonment issues are so prominent in the series and while they play it with humor with Fittes and Kipps, you can just see that desperation behind the lighthearted tone, and for Lucy to say that she chooses Lockwood and George anyway….!

This is basically an excuse to ramble about the little things they add in the series that I love so much, which works because we’re not restricted to Lucy’s POV, in no particular order:

How Flo can immediately see how Lockwood feels about Lucy because of the effect she has on him. Prior to that statement, she’d only met Lucy once before, but that brief meeting told her everything she needed to know. She probably knew Lockwood in the aftermath of his family’s death, so for her to see Lockwood just buttering someone’s else toast for them and being all domestic and smiley, treating another person like a family member especially considering how guarded he is, she must have thought (and rightly so) that meeting Lucy made him have an appetite for life again.

We actually get to see Fittes’ and Lockwood’s side of the fight! And it was awesome. “I’m Anthony bloody Lockwood.” I can no longer remember if that line was in the book or not but idc I love it.

George and Lucy’s scene was in the book, but the acting in the series just really sold it for me. How Lucy’s heart just broke hearing George talk about himself, especially everything he said then were feelings I’m sure she’s also had about herself. I seriously loved that last episode. George and Lucy were adorable. Again I say, found family ftw.

The rise of the Flo x George ship! “You, me, and herons!” Again I say, adorable.

There are some elements that work better in book format, but in many ways the tv series really did elevate this beloved book series. It was a wonderful, wonderful adaptation. As a reader, I couldn’t be more satisfied. As a shipper, I couldn’t be more ecstatic.

#lockwood & co. #lockwood and co #locklyle #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim #george cubbins #flo bones #books #tv #I loved it so much #I thought pining lucy was bad enough #but pining lockwood?? #omg I can’t believe we’re in the best timeline #if he’s already like this at this point #I can’t even imagine him should we reach The Hollow Boy and the aftermath of lucy leaving #he already had a death wish #he will no doubt end up unhinged at this rate when lucy leaves

[lewkwoodnco]

Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day." 

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes. 

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?" 

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face. 

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that." 

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.” 

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope. 

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

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[cameronspecial]

Masterlist

Welcome to my writing! Hope you find what you are looking for and if you don’t, then requests are open but I only really look at them for inspiration so no guarantees it gets written! Also just comment or send me a message if you want to be a part of any of my taglists.

Rafe Cameron

Drew Starkey

Zach MacLaren

Anthony Lockwood

George Karim

Evan Buckley

Tom Holland

Peter Parker

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[g1rld1ary]

bloody genius ; anthony lockwood x fem!reader

➻ rushed to get this out before I go out tonight (wish me luck lols) but am pretty fond of it !!

➻ word count: 1686

➻ synopsis: after a long night of sifting through research for an impossible case with lockwood, you do something you didn't quite mean to

➻ warnings: light mentions of series typical murder/violence, kissing, idiots in love

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

You groaned, tipping back in your chair and rubbing your eyes, trying to make them see straight. You and Lockwood had been pouring over photocopied newspaper articles, floor plans and assorted research for hours and you weren’t getting any closer to stringing any of it together. With Lockwood & Co steadily improving their reputation, the company was getting more and more cases with shorter and shorter timeframes. To combat this influx of cases and the consequent research that needed completing, you’d all decided to split the load where possible. This meant that currently George and Lucy were in the library researching one case whilst you and Lockwood had shut yourselves in the kitchen to struggle through another.

You supposed you had the better deal, though, supplied with easy access to tea, the thinking cloth, and, of course, Lockwood. He was your secret favourite out of your coworkers-turned-family, though if you asked Lucy she’d say it was no secret at all. Regardless, that brought you to the current moment where the thinking cloth was filled with nonsensical lines following trains of thought, all edges punctuated with a frankly ridiculous number of question marks.

Lockwood himself looked almost as frustrated as you felt, but you could tell he was trying to hide it and save face. He caught you staring and flashed a smile, but it lacked its usual charm when his eye bags were more pronounced than usual.

“Hey,” He said softly, putting his hand over yours to stop you drawing stress doodles — the latest one a crudely drawn murder scene, “We’ll get it soon, just gotta find the connection between it all.”

“Sure, Lockwood.” You tried for a smile but it came out as more of a grimace and Lockwood could see the exhaustion etched into your features. He frowned, more concerned for your wellbeing than the case at the moment.

“Maybe you’ve done enough for tonight? Go get some sleep and we can pick back up in the morning?”

“Are you going to go to bed?” You asked, already sure of the answer, “I’m not leaving you to do this on your own, not this time.” He opened his mouth to argue but you shut him up with a glare. He held up his hands in light-hearted surrender. As an alternative Lockwood suggested a break; only a few minutes, but enough for you to make two new mugs of steaming tea and him to crack open a new packet of biscuits. “I’ll even let you break the biscuit rule,” He stage whispered, ducking out of the kitchen to check on Lucy and George and refill their own stash of snacks.

You watched him go, smiling softly. You loved evenings like this — well not like this where trains of thought didn’t quite make it to the station and you had the infuriating feeling of knowledge being held just out of reach, but nights where you were all home and together. You liked them even more when it meant you got to spend time with Lockwood and he got like this; treating you just a little bit differently to George or Lucy, offering you extra biscuits and giving you that soft smile, the one that made your heart flutter in a way it probably shouldn’t when looking at your boss. It fed your delusions of one day telling him how you feel, sure, but the lightness of his attention overpowered the inevitable heartbreak you’d face when he got a date that wasn’t you.

He returned with a confident grin, snapping you out of your stupor. You buried yourself in a new file, scanning for anything that could make sense of the mess of a case you were given. Maybe a Type Two, could be a poltergeist or not, who knows who the ghost was — the whole thing was ridiculous and you had no idea why Lockwood would even take it, but he said he felt sorry for the poor old man who came to the doorstep of 35 Portland Row. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for what felt like hours, knee-deep in paper.

Your eyes were glazing in and out of focus until you caught a snippet of something that had you gasping and tumbling out of your chair, standing frenetically in front of Lockwood looking ready to perform.

“What if I told you,” You said grinning, “That your dear old man had a sealed criminal record until a few years ago? For being a suspect in a murder case no less!” Lockwood was solely focused on you now, dark eyes searching your face for more information. You were no less enthusiastic, eyes scanning the police report quickly for the relevant information. “He was a suspect in the murder of a Charlotte Black back in the 50s. Her sister alleged that the two were involved but the police found no evidence of his involvement, nor of their relationship at all, with the exception of two letters the sister sent during the time of the investigation. Officers on the case said his apartment was ‘severely lacking a female touch’ — ouch — and said to them he was definitely not in a relationship. The record was sealed because the allegations had a dire impact on his accounting firm!” You were buzzing despite the grim subject matter, as you’d finally found the link that could tie the case together.

Lockwood was similarly ecstatic. “Obviously the relationship had to be a secret for whatever reason which was why there’s no marriage certificate or record of letters between them. The letter I was looking at before must’ve been from this sister, it detailed her desire for independence and her interest in his business. She found out about his shady numbers—” He jumped up to grab a letter of complaint over botched figures from a client, “He got mad and killed her! Y/n you’re a bloody genius!” You flushed at the compliment.

“And she’s here now because he’s coming out of retirement, he bragged about it when you were hearing his case! God, it would just be great if we had, like, one more piece of evidence, just to confirm they knew each other,” You sighed, clenching your fingers at the single hole in the puzzle.

The door opened suddenly and George appeared, holding a small folded piece of paper.

“I think this might be from your case, not ours — odd looking couple,” George said, popping the photo on the edge of the dining table, giving a quizzical look at the two of you standing in the middle of the kitchen before heading back to the library. You and Lockwood exchanged a look, almost too scared to take a peek, it was too perfect. You grabbed the photo of Charlotte Black her sister had attached to the letter, plus the one of the man that you’d found in a local newspaper in the archives and laid them both out on the table for comparison.

Lockwood sucked in a nervous breath before slowly peeling open the photo. You couldn’t contain your joy, it was them! The whole night was suddenly worth it, the two of you jumping around the kitchen like little kids on Christmas. One second you were doing a stupid victory dance and the next your lips had pressed themselves to Lockwood’s. The moment you’d become cognisant of what had happened you stepped back, feeling your heart plummet to your toes. This was not how you’d imagined that would happen. Plus, Lockwood’s unusually stoic face was igniting your anxiety, cold spreading through every branch of your veins.

“Oh my God,” You breathed, willing your legs to work, “I am so sorry, Anthony.” Your body caught up to your brain and you headed to the door until you were pulled back, a hand on your waist twisting you to face him again. And then his lips were on yours with purpose this time, the hand not on your waist finding its way to cup your jaw. When your brain was done short circuiting you matched his fervour tenfold, bringing your hands up to rest on his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt to bring him impossibly closer.

You only pulled away when you were at genuine risk of passing out, unable to conjure a single word. Lockwood gazed at you with glossy, blown out pupils. That, mixed with the pink blush on his cheeks and swollen lips created your favourite ever version of Anthony Lockwood — an image you hoped would be privately yours from now on.

“So, is this where I ask to take you on a proper date, love?” He asked, his smile melting your heart into a puddle in his hand. You couldn’t let him have all the fun, though, and willed yourself to produce a teasing grin.

“Seems appropriate, doesn’t it?” Your eyes strayed to the clock on the wall that showed an inappropriately early hour of the morning, “I think we both ought to get some sleep, tomorrow’ll be a big job. Goodnight, Anthony.” You punctuated it with a soft kiss to his cheek before slipping out of the room to silently scream as you bound up the stairs, victory dance making a reappearance behind your safely closed door.

Anthony was left standing in the kitchen like a fool, hand sitting softly where you’d kissed him. A lovesick smile passed his face, thoughts of the impending case long gone from his brain, and in their place sat pictures of you and a looping memory of you slotting your lips between his. He wasn’t sure how long he was standing there basking in your light, but Lucy walked past to drop her mug in the sink, shooting Lockwood a knowing look before heading up to the attic. Lockwood found himself giggling uncharacteristically, giddy with the glee of finally telling you how he’d felt since you first walked through the door of 35 Portland Row.

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