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lewkwoodnco · 2 months

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no one’s ever had me (not like you) - anthony lockwood x reader

A day in the life of dating Anthony Lockwood

“Tell me about the first time you saw me.”

“Again?”

She nodded, drawing the blanket up to her chin as she pressed herself flush against his side as if any distance between them was simply too much. His arm settled comfortably across her shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing shapes on her skin, just underneath her sleeve. There was quiet, for a moment, as they took a second to just breathe together.

“Hmm. Let’s see. It was…November, was it?”

She gave him a playful dig in the ribs. “May, as you perfectly well know.”

“Ah, yes. May. Spring. The flowers smelled lovely.” He dipped his head, briefly pressing his lips against her skittering pulse, murmuring against the warm skin of her throat. “Or maybe it was you, smelling so sweet.”

a/n - the gif is only a tad bit misleading but I just feel like it fits the vibes so well 🥰🥰 this so high school fic was rlly very importu I thought it would just be a snippet hehehe but enjoy some cosy fluffy vibes! As always disclaimer this is a slightly aged up lockwood

tropes/warnings - domestic sillyness, fluff fluff fluff, one veryyy mild description of physical intimacy

word count - 2.1k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

By the time they had arrived at the site of the psychical investigation, Lockwood was well aware that they were rather late. Still, he was sure that they had made it just in time to meet a special someone. He anxiously weeded through the crowds of agents milling about. She couldn’t have left before they arrived, could she?

His answer came in the form of two very cold (due to poor circulation, as Lockwood was well aware of) hands covering his eyes from behind. “Guess who.”

“The world’s worst serial killer?”

The hands slipped away as he turned, coming face to face with a familiar grin.

“Close.”

Lockwood pulled her into a hug, the first after far too long. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her cheek against his. “You’re late.”

His arms tightened around her, and she squeezed back just as hard. His voice came out exaggeratedly pained. “You’re always pointing out my flaws.”

“What I mean is, you’re very late. I have to go now.”

He sucked in a breath sharply and his hold loosened as he pulled away to look at her face, a dismayed expression marring his features. “Already? I just got here.”

She glanced at her wristwatch. “I was supposed to have left five minutes ago, actually. One of the benefits of punctuality, you might find, is spending more time with your intelligent, highly capable, and hence increasingly busy, g-“

“I’ll come earlier tomorrow,” Lockwood promised earnestly.

She snorted. “Lockwood, you’ve never been on time a day in your life.”

“What about dinner on Friday?” He asked desperately. “Did your time off get approved?”

She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry.” Lockwood was starting to look majorly ticked off.

“This is ridiculous. Disrespectful, even. They work you like a dog, pay you peanuts, refuse to let you off for oneni-“

She tugged at the lapels of his coat until his forehead was touching hers. They only had seconds before she would be really too late, and she didn’t want to waste them arguing. Lockwood sighed wearily as his anger dissipated, loosely holding one of her wrists.

“You’re adorable when you’re worked up,” she started, once he looked sufficiently cooled off. He grudgingly pulled back to meet her gaze, distractedly running a thumb along her vein. She made to leave, but Lockwood refused to let go of her wrist, reeling her in one more time.

“Are you sure you still can’t sneak off?” He whispered. “George’s making ghormeh sabzi.”

She shook her head. “It’s field work. Can’t get out of it.”

“He’s going to be very upset when he hears that. He’s been looking forward to feeding you ghormeh sabzi all week, and he’s a busy man.”

She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about George anymore. She tiptoed as she kissed Lockwood’s nose in apology before he reluctantly let her slip away. She waved at his associates standing a short distance away.

“Bye, Luce. Bye, George. Goodbye, Lockwood.” From the look on his face, she just knew he was going to be melodramatic about this.

“You’re breaking his heart, Y/N!”

Later that week, Lockwood found her in the kitchen with Lucy and Holly, pouring over some paperwork while they enjoyed an afternoon snack. As preoccupied as he was, he didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up as he walked in, not immune to a giddy pulse of surprise himself.

“Hey.”

Lockwood gave a vague sound of acknowledgement, pressing a hurried kiss to the top of her head.

“H’llo. Can’t stay long, I’m afraid,” he said, whisking around the kitchen for a snack, before finally settling for one of the jammy dodgers on the counter. He peered over Lucy’s shoulder, trying to figure out Y/N’s writing upside down.

“What’s that you got there?”

She gave him a wan smile. “Oh, nothing. Just some case reports I need to finish up.”

“Need any help?” Lockwood asked, straightening. “I do those all the time.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing these since I was a kid.”

Lockwood paused mid-chew, a thin layer of icing sugar dusting his lips. “No, you haven’t. I was the one who taught you how to fill out those forms, remember? When we first started talking?”

It had been a pretty crucial element in their getting-to-know-each-other phase, in fact. It helped her get her paperwork done correctly and on time, and it gave Lockwood the chance to chat with the pretty agent who glanced his way more often than normal. Now, however, he was feeling none of those warm and bubbly feelings he had come to associate with Y/N, as Lucy and Holly exchanged a meaningful look across the table.

“Hey, hey. What’s going on?”

Y/N busied herself with her forms, mumbling under her breath. Holly shot him a sympathetic look.

“Oh, Lockwood. I thought you knew by now.”

His eyes darted around, stupefied. “Knew what?”

“I knew he didn’t know,” Lucy offered, “for the record.”

“Luce…” Holly looked disapproving.

“It was bloody hilarious. Still is, actually.”

“Will someone tell me,” Lockwood demanded, only somewhat hysterically, “what the hell it is that I’m supposed to know?”

“Lockwood,” she started, awkwardly, “you can’t seriously believe anyone would hire an agent who couldn’t do up a simple case report.”

He looked so crestfallen it was almost funny. He blinked slowly, stunned, as he struggled with his words.

“So…so you let me -?”

“Yes.”

“Even though -“

“Exactly. Speaking of, you’re not very good at writing case reports. I see why you have George do them.”

Lucy choked on her tea badly and Holly started thumping her back. Lockwood took on a very faint tinge of pink, though he pressed on.

“But why?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I liked hearing your voice. Even if it was just you doing a poor job of explaining how to write case reports.”

He looked as though he didn’t quite know what to say to that. She didn’t know either.

“Lockwood,” interrupted Holly, sounding highly peeved between Lucy’s choking and his cluelessness, “I thought you were meeting the Smiths tonight.”

Lockwood’s eyes flicked to the clock near the stove and swore. He nearly pulled a muscle as he tripped over himself rushing out, a hurried goodbye yelled over his shoulder. She watched him run off with an odd wistfulness. In some other life, he spends the rest of the evening with her, laughing, talking, giving her hell for her underhanded flirting tactics. In some other life, they have time for each other.

“You came.”

When Anthony Lockwood opened 35 Portland Row’s front door to someone incessantly knocking on a chilly Friday night, she was the last person he expected to see. A smile cracked across his face as he swept her up into a half-incredulous hug, his cold nose pressed against her jaw.

When they disentangled themselves from each other, she could see his eyes shining with that special kind of joy that made her eyes hurt. “Don’t get too excited, now. I got a friend to cover for me tonight but I’ll be in hellish amounts of trouble if anyone finds out I’m gone.”

As they normally did on the rare occasions they were free to spend together, the two of them wandered around joined at the hip for the entire night. Holly, Kipps and the skull had been invited for a movie night in the library, the latter having been thoroughly threatened into behaving somewhat acceptably.

Perhaps the threats would have been better directed at her and Lockwood, though. When they weren’t being very loudly told off for whispering and snickering through the movie (Kipps took his cinematic experiences quite seriously), it was for hogging the popcorn bowl (it was Lockwood’s fault, she’d maintain) or for behaving like an overall nuisance.

Once the movie finished, they decided to end the night with a game of Scrabble. Given that Lockwood was already starting to nod off, the two of them decided to preside over the game from where they were curled up in an armchair. Eventually, the players called it quits once George and Kipps started yelling abuse at each other over whether or not “klaqi” was a word.

“Go to bed, you two,” Lucy called out as she crept up towards the attic, the rest of them having turned into their respective rooms and guest rooms. Lockwood yawned, lifting his head from where it had been resting in her shoulder.

“Well. You heard her.”

“Oh, come on. I just got here,” she said, in an amusing mimicry of Lockwood’s words earlier that week. Finally, finally, they had a few moments to themselves, and all he wanted to do was doze off. She had half a mind to shake him awake. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Five more minutes?”

Lockwood made an exaggerated show of listening to Lucy’s footsteps as the attic door creaked close. A small smile tugged at his lips as he forced his eyes open. “Five, and that’s it.”

She grinned. “Have I mentioned that my boyfriend is the best person in the whole entire world?”

He rolled his eyes, grumbling. “Yeah, well, don’t think I’ve forgotten about the whole case report lie.” His eyes roamed her face as he softly brushed an eyelash away. “I let you get away with far too much,” he mumbled.

She impatiently brushed a lock of hair out of her eyes, drinking in the sight of his bedroom eyes. “Tell me about the first time you saw me.”

“Again?”

“Hmm. Let’s see. It was…November, was it?”

She gave him a playful dig in the ribs. “May, as you perfectly well know.”

She felt her cheeks warm and she turned to bury her face into his shirt. “Shut up,” she whispered not-very-wittily. She felt him smile against her neck before looking up once again, his brow furrowing as he tried to sort through his sleep-fuddled memory.

“So. It was May. You were standing there with your shoelaces untied…wearing a freshly singed jacket. You had this terrible - and I mean terrible - scowl on your face, ‘cause you were getting chewed out by your supervisor,” Lockwood teased as she playfully narrowed her eyes at him. “You looked like you were going to set him on fire next. And all I remember thinking was,” Lockwood threaded the fingers of his other hand into one of hers, “was that I was looking at the prettiest girl in London and that I wanted to talk to her, but I hadn’t the faintest idea how or when.”

She couldn’t help it - her heart skipped a beat every time she heard those words. It fascinated her to no end how someone could love as openly and unabashedly as Lockwood.

“So aren’t you glad about the whole case report lie?”

He threw his head back in a bark of laughter and she watched him carefully, the dim light of the fireplace softening him into something delightfully easy on the eyes. “Yes. I’m very glad about the case report lie.” He raised their interlocked hands and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “I’m very glad I got to meet you, in case there was ever any doubt.”

They lapsed into a cosy silence, the exhaustion they were holding at bay finally getting the better of them. She felt her eyelids grow heavier as the crackle of the fire’s dying embers lulled them to sleep, Lockwood’s chest feeling wonderfully solid beneath her head.

“You’re sure it was May?”

She peeled her eyes open and, with considerable effort, shifted closer. “I couldn’t forget it even if I wanted to.” She looked up at Lockwood’s face. His eyes were still closed, and with his slow, measured breathing, he looked fast asleep. “Why?”

His words came out in barely a flutter of breath, easy to miss if she didn’t have his heart thumping right below her ear.

“Could have sworn…I’ve known you forever.”

That night, she slept next to the one person who made her feel so young, so sprightly, so pervious to joy and heartbreak. So full of life and so ready to love. So high school, even.

TAGLIST: @neewtmas @midnight--raine @ahead-fullofdreams @how-to-stuff-and-things @cielooci @mohinithoughts @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @elenianag080 @avdiobliss @houseoftwistedspirits @mischivana @dangelnleif @mitskiswift99

#I had to choose btw writing a spin-the-bottle scene or the curling-up-in-the-library scene and I think I made the right choice :))#anthony lockwood #lockwood x you #lockwood x reader #lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x reader

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