#writings by juls: anthony lockwood

[websterss]

LOVING YOU MORE THAN I HAVE BEFORE — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: hello!!! I saw ur inbox was open, so if ur still writing for Lockwood, could I pls request a Lockwood x fem reader where she thinks he loves Lucy but he really loves the reader? and they work together and are best friends?? if not that's totally okay. thanks anyway and have a nice day!!

WARNING(S): mentions of minor injury, angst, fluff at the end, stubborn reader, oblivious Anthony.

WORD COUNT: 4,063

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: I hope you enjoy it love! Feedback is always welcomed! Also, I live and breathe on Alfie Juke's music lmfao. ALFIE JUKES - EYES WIDE

MASTERLIST

You had not meant to stare at them again as you helped George set up the iron chains. Their constant back-and-forth bickering distracted you from your tasks at hand. You had looked back to the pair, Anthony's low chuckle catching your attention. He had a way of distracting you especially in times where he shouldn't have been. A loud thump had broken their banter and before you knew it their eyes were cast onto you. You flinched and then released a hiss when the chain landed on top of your sneaker. Your eyes briefly met George's disapproving ones as you tried to act cool. Your cheeks were burning up from embarrassment, yet the ache running through your foot burned even more. You ducked your head to not meet anyone's stares. You moved slower now as bent down to fix the chain.

"S-Sorry…" You breathed out softly.

"Subtle." George quips quietly to you.

Anthony leaned against the wall eyeing you for a moment seeing the embarrassment written across your features. He took in the slight pout of your lips as you mumbled out an apology. He found it sweet how you shrunk back when you were embarrassed. Though as attentive as he was as a friend, he hadn't missed the way you tucked your right foot behind your left, trying to lay off it.

As though you could somehow sense his stare burn right through you, you quickly looked up. Your eyes wide as you caught him still looking down at you.

Anthony gave you a brief smirk seeing the way your eyes widened as they met his. He continued to study you for a moment, as his smirk shifted into a soft smile. "You alright?" He questioned, his voice quiet as he pushed himself from the wall, taking slow steps toward you.

"Yes." You rushed out as you staggered, trying to stand upright. You swallowed back your nerves as he approached you, a smile alknowing as he noticed you teeter on one foot. You caught where his gaze landed and straightened out. He hadn't missed the scrunch of your brows.

He bit back a laugh seeing you stagger slightly trying not to favor your left foot more. He looked over you again taking note of the way you were standing with such stiffness, as he lifted an eyebrow slightly. He knew you would deny it when he asked if you were okay, as you were stubborn when it came to accepting help. Instead, he looked down at your foot again and motioned his head toward it. "Let me see it." He couldn't help but find it endearing. He reached out to place a hand against your hip, steading you. "You're a horrible liar. Let me see."

"I-I'm fine." You try backing out of his arms but he doesn't let up. He flashes his all so charming grin that you hate and love with a passion.

"Then walk a few paces." He chuckled, gesturing to the bedroom doorway you all occupied. He knew he won when your eyes widened in panic.

"Anthony…" You warned.

He gave your hip a squeeze seeing your stubbornness start to waver. "Just do as I say, darling." He mused, his voice lower. Though he knew your stubbornness would make this difficult, as you hated looking vulnerable.

As reluctant as you were, you inhaled deeply and made your way to the door, with a slight limp. You cursed at yourself for letting your clumsiness get the better of you especially during on a job.

He could clearly see the way you were walking with a limp. He let out a huff of air, almost a tsk. Why were you so stubborn, he thought as he followed after you. He bit his tongue from calling you out for being stubborn, knowing it would only get him a scathing look.

"You're staying with George."

You whipped your head around, your mouth agape as you stared at him like he kicked your dog. Hurt, betrayed, pleadful. "No, I'm fine. I stayed with George on the last job. Anthony please. You just declared me able again, please. This isn't as bad as last time!"

His jaw was set as he saw the look of betrayal and hurt in your eyes. He hated that look, it got him every time. He pressed his lips into a flat line. There it was, the pleading look. It made him waver slightly but he didn't relent, his eyes narrowing. He reached out for you, but you had only moved away from his hand.

"Not different than last time?" He shakes his head. "You're staying with George." He said firmly, his voice low as he eyed you. "You know you've done something to your foot, and I'm not letting you out this room like this. You're not just going to suck it up and deal with it this time. End of discussion!" He ran a ring-clad hand through his messy hair, trying to fight the urge to let you continue. He knew you were tough, he knew you could handle yourself. He also knew you would push yourself to your limits and do something reckless.

"Bloody fucking hell, Lockwood! It's a limp for gods sake!"

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he clenched his teeth. He inhaled deeply as he stared you down. You were pushing his limit. He was trying to keep his cool, but you were testing him. 

"I don't care if it's a bloody limp! You're not going into god-forbid, a potentially dangerous situation! Not like this!" He exclaimed, his voice raising slightly before he caught himself as he saw the look in your eyes. He ran a hand through his hair again, "I'm doing this to keep you safe! Something you're too bloody stupid to do yourself!"

He regretted his words as soon as they left his mouth, seeing the way your eyes widened, filling with water. He had never been so rough with you like that before. He was frustrated, but taking it out on you wasn't right. He didn't want to hurt you, he just wanted you safe.

"I'm sorry..." He exhaled deeply, his expression softening. "I didn't mean that, I just-" He cut himself off when you turned and descended the stairs of the house.

He cursed under his breath as he watched you spin away from him and head towards the stairs. He made a sharp movement to follow you but he stopped himself. He placed his hands on the dresser and leaned against it as he tried to fight down the guilt of his words, and his frustration. He knew he had said the wrong thing. He shouldn't have said that, but sometimes his emotions got the better of him. He knew you were capable, but you sometimes put yourself at risk without a second thought or you tried to hide your injury or pain.

"Lockwood!" Lucy pulled him out of his thoughts. "Anthony!"

"What?" He whipped around angry, angry with himself.

"It's past curfew!" George panicked, reminding him that you just slammed the front door. Lucy only shook her head as she rushed past him, sprinting after you in hopes to catch you.

"No, no, no!" He shouted, panic seeping into his voice as he realised what you had just done. He quickly glanced at the window, looking out, but the darkness limited what he could see. There was no way in hell he was letting you walk back alone at night, especially in your condition.

"I can't stand her sometimes!" He exclaimed as he made quick strides to the front door, practically ripping it open.

"What about the visitor?" George began collecting the equipment in a rush. Calling after Anthony.

"To hell with it, George. We'll come back later!" Is all George heard before another slam of the front door rattled through the house.

"Seriously!" George complained as he rushed down the stairs with the duffle bag. His wide eyes looking around for any signs of the visitor. He shook as he opened the front door and ran after his friends.

-

"I'm telling you, Lockwood. She's probably home already." Lucy was exhausted, it was nearing the 3am mark.

"She has a bloody limp, and it's almost 3 a.m, Luce." He seethed as he followed what little marks you left on the damp ground. He was angry with himself. He shouldn't have let it escalate like that, he should've controlled his emotions, and he just shouldn't have said what he said. Yet he should've known better, the last time he was out of time...your impulsiveness kicked in and you continued a job with a stab wound on your side that you didn't tell him about until you all were passed hthe threshold of the apartment. He almost cried, he did cry when you passed out on the floor. "You know her, she's probably walking around until she can't anymore out of bloody spite." He gritted through his teeth. His jaw was tight again and his tone was low as he kept his gaze locked on the path in front of him. The only thing illuminating their way was the streetlights as they walked down the long, dark street. "I know her. She's too stubborn to go back home. She'll probably end up at some park, and I'm going to throttle her when I find her!" He continued, his voice still cold but the worry was evident.

"You are aware she does it on purpose…?" George chimed in, keeping his head down.

"Of course I do! That's what pisses me off!" He exclaimed, his voice strained. He couldn't deny that you did these kinds of things on purpose just to spite him, and he hated it. He knew you enjoyed getting on his nerves, but it didn't make it any better. It only made it worse, and more frustrating.

"Do you know why though?" George eyed him curiosuly. He had to tell him, you could hate him forever for all he cared, he was tired of you skirting around and avoiding your feelings.

Anthony stopped in his tracks for a moment, turning slowly toward George. A frown tugged at his features as he regarded George with a curious expression, his eyes searching his friends face for something. He knew that look, it was the look of 'I know something that you don't'.

"What are you going on about..?" He questioned slowly, his expression guarded.

"George-" Anthony looked over to Lucy who shook her head at him.

"Ask for forgiveness later, right Luce? She does it to get your attention. Seeing as you'll only give it when you're angry with her."

Anthony froze, he froze right where he stood. He stood dumbfounded for a moment, his mouth slightly agape. "You're joking, right? You're telling me all those nights where I go insane trying to find her, or I yell at her for doing something incredibly reckless, she does it for what? My attention?" His voice was low and strained. He was having trouble processing what he was being told and he wasn't sure he was liking it.

Anthony stood silent for a moment, processing what George had just said to him. It hit him like a ton of bricks as the realization set in. He slowly turned his eyes back onto George once again, and he was at a loss for words.

"That's…" He exhaled, his mind already going into overdrive. "That's ridiculous. Why would she…" He trailed off, his gaze dropping to the ground. He knew you did it to get his attention, he just hadn't put the pieces together the way George had.

"There's more..." Lucy shrinks in on herself. Shying away from his stare.

His eyes slowly shifted to Lucy, watching the way she turned away from him. There was a sinking feeling in his gut as he watched her reaction. He didn't like the way she was acting, and he didn't like what it made him feel. "More..?" He repeated, his voice low and wary, a sense of trepidation creeping over him.

"She thinks you like Lucy." George, peeked up at him. Then turned his head to Lucy.

Anthony's eyes widened slightly as he heard George speak. He slowly turned his head to look at Lucy who avoided his gaze. He let out a scoff of disbelief.

"She thinks…But I don't-" He exclaimed, his words trailed off as a realization dawned upon him. He looked between Lucy and George as a feeling of guilt began to settle in his chest.

"She's not clumsy on purpose Anthony…" George frowns. "She was watching you and Lucy earlier, she wasn't paying much attention to what she was doing…that's why the chain fell on her foot," George admits. "She's more purposely impulsive. Not clumsy."

Anthony's expression softened slightly, as the realization that you were jealous of his relationship with Lucy, no matter how friendly it was, sunk in. It made sense, he thought as he remembered a few times when you seemed off after he was teasing Lucy. He also didn't miss the way you would give him a few extra glances when you saw him with Lucy. He ran a hand through his messy locks as he exhaled deeply, his gaze shifting away from his friends. He didn't know how to begin to fix this.

He could feel his guilt grow as he now understood the reason for your actions. "She's...jealous..." He spoke slowly, it was more of a statement than a question.

"I'd say she's been more hurt than jealous. She likes you, Lockwood." Lucy sighs heavily.

Anthony's shoulders slumped slightly as Lucy spoke, her words confirming his suspicions and causing his guilt to deepen even more. He knew you had a tendency to act impulsively when you were hurt or upset, and your jealous behavior was just another way to cope with those feelings. Hearing it from his friends, though, only made it more real.

He let out a shaky exhale, his gaze still downcast. "I never…I never realized how much it bothered her…" He murmured, his voice thick with regret.

"We all thought you knew." George said.

Anthony let out a scoff that sounded more like a half-hearted laugh as he raised his head to look at them both.

"How could I have known? I thought she just did it to piss me off." He ran a hand through his messy locks, his expression betraying his guilt and regret. "All this time…I didn't realize that she…too much time has been wasted. Feelings unsaid..." He trailed off again, unable to finish his sentences. "Where do I even begin to get her to speak to me? To tell her that I- that I feel the same way!" He huffed out in relief. Feeling a weight leave his shoulder saying how he feels about you out loud and to his friends.

"You could start with an apology first of all. Then admit you're a bloody fool!" You exclaim behind them. You pout as you cross your arms on the bench you sit on.

Anthony's eyes widened and his expression changed as soon as he heard your voice behind him. He swiftly turned around to look at you, a mix of emotions playing across his face – surprise, guilt, relief, and also a hint of irritation.

"You-" He began, taken aback by your presence but also by your pouting. He exhaled deeply as he took a few steps towards you. "How long have you been there…?"

"Not going to throttle me anymore?" You raise a brow at him expectantly.

Anthony let out a sigh that sounded more like a small chuckle. Your words tell him just exactly how long you had been there. He stopped a few feet in front of you, his hands on his hips as he gazed intently at the pout on your face.

"No, I'm not going to throttle you.." He said, his voice softer now. "Though I'd like to, very much." He admitted, his irritation clear in his tone.

"Shame…" You hum, eyeing his disheveled state. Then to Luce, and George standing back.

Antony watched you as you sat there on the bench, your arms crossed stubbornly. Your nonchalant comment causes his irritation to rise again, and he can't help but smirk in response. A hint of blush painted his cheeks as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Shame, huh? Don't tempt me." He spoke, attempting to sound lighthearted but failing miserably, the irritation still evident in his tone. He could practically hear the sarcasm in your voice. He glances at George and Lucy, watching their reaction before returning to yours. Their looks of concern and curiosity were etched on their faces.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He inquired, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement.

The corners of your lips lift. You pinch your forefinger and thumb together in amusement. Your right eye shuts as you mouth 'a little bit'.

The sight of you sitting there, clearly taking great satisfaction in his frustration, only further fueled his mixed emotions. He rolled his eyes once more, a mocking scoff leaving his lips. He had to fight the urge to shake you by the shoulders out of sheer frustration.

"Of course you are…." He muttered under his breath, his eyes narrowing as he took another step closer, now only a mere few feet away. "Let's get you home..."

"That's it…"

Anthony's eyebrow raised at your comment, a small smirk playing at the corners of his lips at your defiant tone. He took another step forward, closing the small distance between the two of you completely. He looked down at you, his eyes studying you.

"That's what..?" He inquired, his tone almost mockingly calm. He could see the stubborn glimmer in your eyes and he knew what was coming next.

"'I'm a fool, I shouldn't have yelled at you my darling, Y/n'-" You feign despair.

Anthony rolled his eyes once again, his smirk growing into a playful yet strained smile. He crossed his arms over his chest once more, his gaze fixed on you as you continued to speak.

"Very funny." He shot back sarcastically, his tone dripping with mock annoyance. "You, want me, to grovel."

"I wouldn't mind you on your knees." You smirk up at him.

Anthony's eyes widened slightly and a flush crept onto his cheeks at your retort. He had a feeling you would say that, but he couldn't help the way his stomach did a little somersault at your words. He quickly composed himself, a mixture of surprise and mild irritation on his face.

"You're testing my patience…" He replied, doing his best to ignore the way his heart quickened at the thought of the image those words put in his head.

"Mine's already gone, Anthony." Your stare grows cold.

Anthony's smirk faded from his face, and a pang of guilt washed over him as you said his name in that cold, detached tone. He suddenly felt terrible for the countless times he yelled and scolded you since you met, for all the times he snapped at you when you teased him, for the times he lost his temper when others gave you attention. He could see the hurt in your expression and hear it in your voice. His gaze softened somewhat as the realization hit him and he sighed heavily. It doesn't take him long before he's knelt before you.

"I know… and I'm sorry-" He began, his voice quieter now, less snarky. "I shouldn't have raised my voice at you. I shouldn't have called you stupid because you're not. You're incredibly smart, and I'm a fool…one who loves you." He meets your eyes as your breath hitches. "It appears I wasn't exactly obvious with my feelings towards you. It was my mistake thinking you knew of them." Anthony sighs as he confesses. He ran a hand through his messy locks as he exhaled deeply, his heart feeling like a weight in his chest. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "I didn't…realize how deeply you felt about me. And I'm sorry for not seeing it sooner. For not giving you the attention you deserve. For all the times I've yelled at you, and called you stubborn, and-" He trailed off, his voice getting caught in his throat. "For not telling you sooner...I'd understand if you never want to forgive me."

"Fool…" You breathe out a laugh as you reach forward to caress his face.

Anthony's lips twitch into a faint smile as he watches you reach up to touch his face. He leans into your hand slightly, the feeling of your touch calming him. He closes his eyes momentarily, letting your touch soothe him.

"Does that mean you accept my apology..?" Anthony inquired quietly, opening his eyes once more to meet your gaze, a hint of hope in his expression.

"Depends..." Your eyes shift with something mischievous behind them.

Anthony's eyebrows raise slightly as he notices the hint of mischief in your eyes. He knows that look, and it instantly makes him slightly wary. But at the same time, he can't help being curious about what you're planning.

"On what?" He prompts a hint of playfulness in his tone. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can't hide the hint of a smile that threatens to form at the corners of his lips.

Your arms immediately shoot up, as though you want to be...

Anthony's eyes widen in surprise at how suddenly your arms shoot up in the air. It takes him a moment to realize what you might be hinting at, and his face flushes with a mixture of surprise and amusement.

"You want me to carry you, of course you do!" He replies with a small chuckle.

"Please…"

Anthony rolls his eyes with a playful grin on his face. Despite his feigned irritation, he can't deny the fact that he kind of enjoys you asking him to carry you. He lets out a mock sigh, pretending to be reluctant.

"Alright, if I must…" He teases, his voice dripping with mock annoyance. He turns around and bends down enough for you to jump onto his back. He grabs onto your legs securing your weight against his.

Anthony glanced in Lucy and George's direction as they chuckled. He couldn't help but smile sheepishly at their reactions. He could practically feel the smugness radiating off of them as he carried you piggyback-style.

"Stop laughing, both of you." He muttered under his breath, a hint of embarrassment in his tone. He shifted his grip on you, making sure you were settled on his back.

"I shall commute home like this more often." You hum.

Anthony scoffed playfully as he began walking with you on his back. He couldn't help but smile at your statement, though he attempted to maintain a neutral expression.

"Oh, is that so?" He teased, his tone lighthearted. "And what makes you think I'm going to carry you home like this every time?"

"You're love for me."

Anthony's cheeks flush at your words, and he rolls his eyes. But secretly, deep down, he can't deny the truth in them. Hearing you say it out loud, coupled with the way you were currently clinging to his back, made his heart skip. He tried to respond in a snarky manner, but his voice betrayed him, coming out softer than he intended.

"Touché." He admitted, a hint of fondness in his voice. 

"I love you too..." You mutter low enough for his ears only.

Anthony's heart skipped a beat when you whispered those three simple words to him. His grip on your legs tightened slightly, and he felt his cheeks flush even more. Your words had the ability to both fluster and comfort him at the same time. The way you said it, low and quiet, for his ears only, made his chest feel warm and his heart swell with affection.

He took a shaky breath and responded in a hushed tone, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know...and I love you more." His head turned to meet your eyes, widened and crinkled with hints of joy and surprise. It makes his heart swell with mixtures of emotions and relief, knowing that he's made you happy after all the tension that had built up between you two. He continues walking, and a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he glances back at you. Your head resting against his shoulder, feeling safe and secure in his hold.

[websterss]

IM DYING😭

Marker Mayhem

Lockwood and Co Appreciation Week: Day One - Favourite Main Trio Character Summary: You find Lockwood asleep in the living room from waiting up for you but your delirious state gets a bit carried away with your permanent marker.

AN: This is for day one of the Lockwood and Co Appreciation Week! Lockwood is probably my favourite character but only by a smidge haha. I love how he can be so protective of George and Lucy while also being a reckless dickhead lol. Pairings: Anthony Lockwood x Reader

Word count: 800~

Warnings: just some fluff and hysterical laughter

When arriving back home to 35 Portland Row it was late in the evening and way past curfew. You'd spent the past few days up north visiting your family but you train back to London was delayed, meaning you got home much later than expected. You made sure to enter the house as quietly as you could so you wouldn't wake any of your housemates, knowing they all could do with as much undisturbed rest as possible.

Once you had taken all your stuff back up to your room and gotten changed you headed back downstairs to make yourself a cup of tea, only to notice the living room light dimly glowing from underneath the door. Slowly opening the door, your tired eyes fell upon the sleeping body of your best friend - and crush, Anthony Lockwood. His body had slightly slid down in his armchair, a magazine sprawled across his chest which he'd clearly tried to read to keep himself awake, drool starting to form on the edge of his mouth. You couldn't help but quietly giggle at his sleepy state and you decided that you should probably get him up to bed. But first you had another idea in mind.

You scoured the kitchen draws until you came across what you were looking for, a permanent marker. He was going to absolutely hate you for this but you were starting to get delirious from your long day that you simply didn't care, it was going to be too funny. Plus, when were you going to get another chance like this again? Lockwood looked like he never slept so it was probably unlikely.

Creeping back into the living room where Lockwood was softly snoring in his chair, you uncapped the pen in your hands with a mischievous grin on your lips. Suppressing your laughter, you slowly and softly drew on Lockwood's face - first just an intricate moustache, but then you moved on to horns and other squiggles around his eyes and chin. What's more, Lockwood smarted to smile when you drew around his lips and temple, which made your face so red from holding in your sniggers. Once you were happy with your completed work you stepped out of the room to get yourself a drink of water and let yourself breathe steady, letting your face turn back to a normal colour.

It was getting late and you realised it was probably due time to wake Lockwood up so he could get some actual rest. "Hey Anthony, it's time to go to bed" you say to him softly as you stroked his hair, making him slowly wake up as he stretched out his arms, looking at you once he opened his eyes. "Oh you're back, thank goodness I was getting worried..." he looked around the dark room and then back to your face "what time is it?" giving you a puzzled look. "Way past your bedtime, come on let's go upstairs" you say as you pull him up from his chair. You lead Lockwood upstairs into his room, guiding him to his bed and away from his mirror so he didn't have time to see the drawings on his face.

The next morning you were in the kitchen with George and Lucy before Lockwood had woken up, but the next thing you heard was Lockwood's voice shouting from within his room "whAT THE-" and then rapid footsteps racing down the stairs. George and Lucy exchanged confused glances while you remembered what happened last night. Suddenly Lockwood swung the kitchen door open, still wearing his clothes from the night before and his face covered in slightly smudged pen "Alright, which one of you three did this!?" his voice mildly angry, breaking halfway through his sentence, eyes darting between the three of you in the room.

George and Lucy both broke down into laughter as soon as Lockwood came in the room "oh I thought it was something serious" Lucy said through snorted laughter, "it suits you quite well actually, really brings out your eyes" George adds in with a smirk. You were trying so hard to not laugh, your artwork looking so much more funny the day after, but because of your suppressed laughter Lockwood shot you a look "it was you.." "I'm sorry, I was really tired, I don't even remember doing it" you held up your hands in defence, laughter escaping your lips. "You don't remember!? Y/n look at my face!" he said, clearly in disbelief "I waited up for you to come home, I was worried, and this is what I get in return??" Lockwood continued, but you couldn't meet his eyes, you couldn't take him seriously looking like that. "I- I'm sorry" you force out amongst your hysterical giggles "I'll help you clean up, I promise" "I would bloody well hope so." Lockwood finally heaved out, finally letting himself laugh about the whole situation.

[hiddenvioletsgrow]

2024 Tumblr Top 10

@backgroundagent3​ thanks for the tag! 

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“the show is canceled” TO YOU! I write further plot lines and episodes in my head every night

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Created by TumblrTop10

[websterss]

NEVER ANGRY — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: Hi could I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader where after a particularly hard case reader gets hurt protecting Lucy Lockwood fumes and they both argue for a while because the reader insists she did the right thing and Lockwood just yells out “I can’t lose you! Don’t you get it? I love you.” And the reader just stops yelling pulls him into a hug tells him she loves him too and they just spend the night in each other's arms

WARNING(S): angst and fluff

WORD COUNT: 2,881

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You didn’t know what brought you more discomfort. The aching burn of your open wound or the eery silence that fell over the car ride back to the apartment. Your eyes fell upon each individual member, trying to grasp what each was feeling at that moment. Lucy was slumped against the seat, eyes watching the buildings and road flood past as the car moved. You assumed she was neutral, perhaps thankful as one being saved could get. You turned your head to watch as George fiddled with the zipper of his jacket. He too avoided the deafening lack of noise within the car but visibly seeing his shoulders tensed up had you assuming he didn’t want to disrupt the peace, wanting it to last a little longer. Though you didn’t mind it that much. You were grateful for the silence. Taking advantage of it because once the car stopped moving you’d all be graced with the burning rage that was radiating off of Anthony.

Now as for Lockwood. The rapid tapping of his foot and the very obvious vein popping against his forehead were enough to display his lack of impatience. He’d bolt the second he saw the steps of the apartment. You assumed as much since you were the cause of such smoke practically fuming out of his ears. The dreaded scolding and berating was something you weren’t at all looking forward too, but you very much expected it to happen. You of all people tonight did not hesitate to put your life on the line for the sake of the others. Preferably in Lucy’s case. Almost on the verge of being pummeled had it not been for the shove your gave her. She graciously thanked you with tears spilling past her waterline, scolding you for such rash behavior, all within the time span that you felt something pierce your abdomen. The visitor having thrown sharp objects your way. It hardly hurt the more you thought about it. Though you feared that that wasn’t entirely a good sign especially since blood seeped through your not so white shirt. At least you came out heroic! That had to count for something right? Right?!

You flinch as you, Lucy, and George walk in after Lockwood who had burst in. The swing of the door collided harshly with the wall creating a dent. You could hear as more doors slammed against their thresholds, causing a series of flashbacks to flood your mind. None worth remembering. None you wanted to flee your mind instantaneously.

“Maybe I should go talk-“ Lucy begins.

“No, he’s mad at me…I think it’d be wiser for me to face him.” You shake your head at Lucy.

“You sure?” You can see traces of worry within her.

“Yeah. I’m sure…I’ll be fine.” You force a smile hoping it’d look convincing. The last thing you wanted to do was worry her. You're aware of the fact she doesn't believe you, neither do you believe yourself since your own eyes were locked on the staircases that lead up to his bedroom. You can only imagine the amount of damage that he's caused in there.

You take a deep breath and climb up the stairs. You clutch at your side, trying not to gather more attention on yourself.

The closer you approach the doorway to his room, the louder the faint sounds of his voice and muffled smashing of objects grow. Anthony’s room was located across from the first landing. Thankfully the door itself remains closed. You can feel bits of tension and anger radiating from within the room to the point it’s almost palpable. You almost don't feel like knocking.

But you do knock, knowing the faster you got his confrontation created from your stupidity out the way, the quicker you could dress the wound. You raise your knuckles to his door, knocking three separate times. The noises from within the room cease and only silence lingers. The sounds of Anthony’s footsteps can now be heard, growing louder and louder.

It’s almost surreal how fast your mind goes from racing a thousand words a minute to an eerie and almost deafening silence. As his steps get louder so does your pounding heartbeat in your ears, a strange sinking feeling rising up your throat. You try your best to hold in the urge to feel like you’re about to throw up and instead stand your ground outside of his closed door. The doorknob jiggles.

The door hinges scream as the door opens. Anthony’s face appears in the doorway. You instantly notice how flushed and red his cheeks are. His brown eyes glare at you intensely. A vein pops in the middle of his forehead, anger radiating off of him like waves of heat.

"You going to let me in, or am I going to remain bleeding out here all night?"

“Don’t start with me.” He growls, his hands balling into fists before he steps aside and allows you to come in.

He opens the door wider, allowing you to enter the mess of a room. The walls are peppered with dents, along with the mirror by the front of the room as well as an antique clock. His nightstand has been flipped over and shattered onto the floor. The sheets of his bed are rumpled, and blankets are scattered around the room, you were surprised it wasn't worse off.

"Redecorating I see?" You breathe out. He glares at you before he turns around, and walks over to his dresser. He opens his drawers and grabs a medical kit.

“Shut it.” Anthony mutters as he sits down on the edge of his mattress.

He gestures for you to sit down, though you feel like doing so would only escalate the situation as you can already feel him glaring daggers in your direction. You feel yourself grow more weary by the second, you were pretty sure the adrenaline high from earlier was wearing off.

"I think you could do with a new lampshade. Maybe even a new color for the walls. I was thinking forest green but if you-" You ramble off, only pissing him off further on purpose.

“You’re infuriating. You know that?” The young man’s gaze narrows, his eyes boring straight into yours. "Never do as you're told..." He leans closer to inspect the wound, his brows furrowing into a scolding frown.

"I've had great influence." You muster a teasing smirk.

“Just for that, I should leave you here to bleed out.” Anthony mutters a dry remark before he leans in a little too close for your liking and gently begins lifting the hem of your shirt.

"You'd never gather the courage. You'd hate yourself for it. Don't worry your gorgeous head Tony a little wound like this can't get rid of me that easily." Your laugh turns into a groan as he presses a wet cloth with disinfectant pray on it.

A string of curses come out of your mouth before you can halt them. The smell of the disinfectant burns the inside of your nostrils, causing your face to screw up involuntarily. He presses a little harder with the cloth, not seeming phased by your reactions.

You can feel your cheeks heat up as you grit your teeth and try to hold back the pain and not squirm around.

"Well…that didn't cheer you up." You wince.

“It’s not really a happy occasion,” Anthony mutters as he continues to press the cloth against your wound.

The pain was still there, but you felt like it was diminishing a little. Or maybe you were just growing accustomed to it. All you could smell was the antiseptic burning into the wound.

"I'd have expected a smile of some sort at least." You shrug as you fall back on the bed.

He raises an eyebrow at you as he finishes cleaning out the wound and begins to sew it. “How could you be reckless?” You hear him ask with an exasperated tone.

It took every ounce of willpower for you not to flinch or make any sudden movements, the pain from your wound made it difficult to stay still, but if you moved around too much, he might apply more pressure than necessary.

"I prefer the term heroic…God!" You groan as the needle pierces through your skin.

“Heroism is being reckless, and you almost got yourself killed because of it.” He finishes stitching up the wound. You can see the slight relief on his face as he leans back on his heels.

He then places your right hand over his so he can press down onto the wound. You almost let out a moan when he does this, the sharp pain sending a jolt through you all over again. You try your best not to react to it.

"A-Alright, next time, it's Lucy's turn." You roll your eyes.

“There shouldn’t be a next time.” He snaps back, but the pain he sees in your eyes makes him pause. His eyes quickly soften a little and he removes his hand from where he previously pressed it down. “How’s it feeling?” His eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort.

"Like I've been stabbed." You deadpan.

He can’t help but let out a dry scoff before he lets out a tired sigh. “That tends to happen when you throw yourself in front of someone.” His eyes shift back to your wound just to make sure it’s fully closed up. "Seriously, do you need anything from me, and don’t give me a sarcastic remark.” He adds as an afterthought.

"I-I need you not to be angry with me…" You struggle to sit up. His face falls as he goes to stand up. "Anthony please!"

He pauses for a moment as he watches you try to sit up. His face is still lined with frustration. The anger within his eyes lingers.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack.” He asks as he helps you gently sit up. "I heard Lucy scream, and it felt like the world stopped. How could you be so stupid!"

"Stupid? I was saving our friend!" You snap.

“By recklessly jumping in front of a visitor!” Anthony shouts. “You could’ve died if it managed to get the drop on you. You could’ve been possessed if it had turned out to be a Poltergeist. And don’t even get me started about what would’ve happened if it were to ghost-lock you. You’d have been gone before we even managed to reach you.”

"I'm fine though, nothing happened!"

“Nothing happened?” Anthony asks incredulously. He repeats louder as he looks down at you. “You got stabbed! You lost a fair amount of blood. “Nothing happened?!” He throws his hands up, trying not to show the intense worry he is feeling. Nothing happened?!” He snaps, his voice cracking. “And the fact that you’ll just say so, so calmly?!”

"Yes nothing more- God what do you want from me? I was only trying to save her-"

“I can’t lose you! Do you not understand that? I love you.” Anthony pauses, staring at you as the anger fades from his eyes, his gaze shifting to the ground. He’s now at a complete loss, not knowing what to say. He wants to be angry at you for being foolish and reckless, but seeing the way you’re looking down as if you feel regretful, makes it difficult.

"You love me?" Your voice cracks.

“I love you. The thought of losing you is unimaginable.” Anthony whispers. It’s the first time he’s ever uttered those three words directly to you. As if this whole argument were simply a ploy for him to finally admit it. "Is that okay?"

You can't muster your laughter. You close your eyes in disbelief at his silly question. "Just as long as it's okay for me to love you too?"

“You’ve always been so annoyingly good at getting under my skin and turning my questions around, but this one time…I’m okay with it.” He replies. It’s a strange sensation. To feel the weight of the words slip off his tongue. To finally admit all those stupid little arguments you always have meant something. "More than okay with it." He breathes out.

"Good. I'd have been very upset if you didn't think so." A smile grows on your lips.

Anthony stares at you, his eyes searching yours. He wants to get closer to you, to kiss you, to pull you onto his bed, to never let go. All the things his stupid heart and brain are telling him to do, and yet there’s this immense feeling of hesitation.

He knows what this means for both of you. He knows what happens next. But he can’t seem to bring himself to do it, to take the first step. The fear of rejection is making him feel foolish by this one moment of hesitation, and he knows he’s got to get rid of this insecurity.

“Stop it.” He mutters as he reaches down to caress your cheek with his hand. “I’m supposed to be the one angry with you.”

"I don't think you're capable of remaining angry for so long…" You lean into his hands.

He lets out a small breath. “No, I don’t think I am,” Anthony whispers. He’s got to be close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he leans in closer.

Anthony’s heart starts to speed up at the idea that this one single motion could change everything between them. He lets his fingers trace from your cheek down to your jawline, trailing softly along your skin. His body leans forward ever so slightly until his nose almost touches yours. He wants this moment to last forever. To freeze time and have you right here with him.

But instead, all he can do is whisper a soft, hopeful, “Please.”

You spare him the wait and tug him closer by his locks.

His eyes widen when you finally take the initiative. He brings his other hand to your other cheek and cups it as you pull him in. Before he knows it, your lips are pressed together in a heated kiss. Your bodies mold together as you both press close against each other. The kiss becomes intense, and all he can think about is the heat in his stomach, and how the moment feels too good to be true.

You're too lost in the kiss, you forget the reason why he was angry to begin with. Yet when your stomach brushes against his own and before you know it, you wince, pulling back gently from his lips.

Anthony notices the sudden change in your demeanor. He pulls back with a concerned expression on his face. Your pained reaction is enough to pull him out of the passion-filled moment.

"Slow." He breathes out and rests his head against yours. He raises a hand to touch the outskirts of your wound as if he needed a reminder. "We need to go slow about this until you're all better."

"I don't think I can wait that long." You shook your head.

"You'll have to." He replies. He knows it's not fair, that you have to wait for something that he so desperately wants too. "I don't want to risk the wound opening back up." He adds, hoping you'll understand.

"I know…" You look back up at him.

He stares at you for a moment more, his eyes scanning your face as if he wants to remember every single detail before he pulls away from you. He gives a gentle smile before brushing his thumb against your face, and letting his fingers brush through your hair. He leans in to place a kiss on your forehead, the softest kiss he’s given you yet. "How about we exchange kisses for some much-needed sleep?" He smirks.

You hadn't even fully registered the toll and lack of energy you were experiencing. That was evident. The adrenaline high from earlier was wearing off, and you were now experiencing the aftereffects.

“Sleep will do us both some good.” He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes and allowing his hand to drift down to your neck which he rubs softly with his thumb. You can already feel your body start to relax, but you can’t fight the tiredness building up inside you anymore. “After the whole fiasco, nearly losing you, I'd like to simply hold you.” Is all he mutters.

"I'd like that…" You sigh as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s not long till you pull away.

You toe off your shoes and jacket, then allow him to lead you onto his bed.

Anthony pulls the blanket over him and you both, making sure you're warm. His arm wraps firmly around you as he holds you close so that you are completely cradled in his embrace. All the tension from the fight having faded away by now, replaced with a deep sense of security and peace.

You feel your body relax into his as your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. You feel yourself start to slip, slowly drifting off into oblivion as Anthony pulls you even closer, the warm breath of sleep drifting between you both. The last thing you feel is a sweet kiss pressed against your temple.

[websterss]

TILL DEATH DO US PART — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: okay so i’ve thought about sending requests your way and my mind came up blank except for a reversed-roles kinda thing for lockwood & co, in which that scene from the last episode where lucy goes to george to save him from the crazy lady (forgot her name) with the bone mirror, instead it’s reader but she doesn’t handle it as well as lucy and pass out or something (your choice, i just want angst) and although lockwood has been shot in the shoulder, he doesn’t care. all he cares about is if reader is gonna be okay 👀 (i just want some good ol’ angst written by you so i can die a little bit inside but also thrive in reading your writing 🥺🫶🏼)

WARNING(S): angst, some fluff at the end

WORD COUNT: 4,214

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You didn’t quite know how you three had managed to end up locked in an underground cellar with Pamela. You couldn’t so much as put the fault onto George. He had put his sole faith and trust into their supposed friendship. He was too swayed by what he thought were good intentions, only to realize they were nothing but sick twisted purposes. Purposes that were going to put so many others at risk. 

“Please!” George begged. “Lucy, don't he’ll kill you.”

“Don’t you dare look, and whatever happens this wasn’t your fault. This was my choice.”

“Lucy, don't you dare.” You groan after having been jostled and shoved to the ground as George had. 

Lucy just turned to you, her features softening as she whispered with pure sincerity and concern in her voice. Her soft-as-the-sky eyes glowed in the darkness like twin lanterns and with a little sigh she replied, “…I have to.”

"No. You don't. We all get to make choices, and I'm making mine now." You walk up to her and hit her with the hilt of your rapier.  You hold your breath as she falls unconscious. You're quick to drag her over to George where he remains on the ground. "S-Shield her eyes, and whatever happens...don't look." You nod firmly at George.

George didn’t hesitate, shielding Lucy from the horror unfolding before them, but couldn’t help looking back to you. He seemed both concerned and terrified at the same time. “Lockwood won't like this!"

"He'll get over it!" You take your place in front of the mirror. Eyes flickering back and forth between Pamela and the covered mirror.

The air around you feels thick and oppressive. You feel sick and dizzy as the sense of impending doom and horror fills your body with a paralyzing chill. You look at the mirror, at Pamela, and the thought of what is to come sears across your mind.

You take a deep breath. With shaking hands, you await her response. “Tell me everything you see, what you feel, and what you hear.” She yanks a pin out from her hair. Then points the recorder towards you. “Every detail.” She says as a final word, then yanks back the cloth. You turn around immediately, feeling a rush of air and suction claw on the back of your hair and shoulders. “Look, look, look. Damn you, look!” Pamela exclaims.

You gasp as you reach forward, grabbing the silver-glass jar, the skull, and hold it out behind you to look at the mirror in your place.

"If you can talk to it, tell me what it says.”

You groan, closing your eyes tightly, trying to fight off the urge to look into the horrid mirror. You growl as you yell back to the damned skull. "Talk...Take it all in and tell your master what you see." Lockwood and George, even Lucy had been astonished when you all discovered that you could also communicate and hear the type three ghost. Your heart plummets as you hear the skull begin to wail.

“No, no, no, this isn’t right! Something’s changed!” Your breath shudders upon the information he has given you. “They’re trapped!”

“What? What? What is he saying? Speak, girl Speak!” Pamela grips her recorder tighter.

“It says something is wrong!”

“More!”

“It’s a trap. We have to destroy it!” You begin to whimper as it all grows to be too much for you to handle. You hold your breath as glimpses of your past flash in your mind. Stills of your parents before your tenth birthday. Finding them ghost-locked after coming home from Fittes. Horrid wretched flashes and faces of previous visitors you and the boys were called on to take a job about. Being pinned by a type two. Your breath grows cold upon being nearly ghost-locked yourself. But the one vision that struck you the most, that made you lose your grip on making it through this was seeing yourself hold Anthony in your arms as his eyes were milky, his brown irises glazed over white and still. You could see yourself crying and begging him to come back to you. Your eyes shot upon with a startle. You could feel yourself loosen your hold on the jar before you took it down with you to the ground. All you could hear was a faint yell of your name before you slipped into the dark void that clouded your mind.

“Y/n!” George hadn’t even hesitated to get onto his feet to tackle down the stand holding the mirror. 

“No!” Pamela cries out. George ran back over to where you lay unconscious. His hands were still tied behind his back but he still attempted to check for your pulse. He visibly relaxed as he came to feel your pulse thump against his skin. 

“You’re alright, you’re alright now...Lockwood will come soon and it’ll all be over soon.” He flinched, looking over his shoulder as he heard shuffling to his right. Lucy groaned, clutching at her head as she pushed herself off the ground. 

“Blood hell...” She complained, but one look at your unmoving body had her scooting closer to the two of you. She reached forward, brushing a few strands out from your face. Her palm resting against your cheek. “Is she...” She raised a brow at George. Thinking the worst of the worst. Your death at the hands of Pamela.

“No. She’s alright. Assumed the mirror struck her energy a bit. It was too much for her to handle.” 

“Lockwood is gonna-”

“Kill us.”

“I was going to say put her on house arrest but sure let’s assume the worst reactions possible. 

“Before we arrived. He practically begged her to run off and call DEPRAC. She was top priority...” Lucy muttered to herself thinking back on what Lockwood debriefed before they came to face Pamela. 

“Top priority?” George questioned. “Y/n?”

“Before we left, he mentioned how the mirror came close to being our second priority. I asked him out of curiosity what the first priority was. He didn’t answer me.” Lucy looks down at you with a new sense of understanding. The bond you and Lockwood shared was one like no other. Two souls brought together by unfathomable circumstances. Orphaned from the same cause, the same path that lead your loved ones to be unalive. To halves that made a whole. Who understood what was put at risk every day you stepped out into London’s busy and haunted streets. You both knew the sacrifices that were the hardest to make, but you both took them on over Lucy and George having to. The little family you both found yourselves, you put your whole lives and trust into. You were everything to one another, and that was a risk in itself. “Lockwood is going to have our heads...” She breathed out in realization.

“I think he knows that already.”

“What?” George gestured behind her with a grimace. Lockwood was standing a few feet away, clutching his shoulder. His eyes rotated from Lucy and George and onto your unmoving form. 

“Shit...” Lucy swallowed nervously as he let his rapier clatter to the floor. 

“Is she?” Lockwood swallowed his words down, not having the stomach to contemplate whether you remained with them or if you had finally joined alongside your parents and his. Lockwood took a few more agonizing steps towards your motionless form, his expression looking both exhausted and afraid. His fingers reach out but fall back down to his sides. He was only thankful you couldn’t see him tremble, as he held back on the urge to break down crying.  

“She’s okay...swear it.” Lucy nodded, a timid smile on her face as her eyes watered. 

Lockwood's eyes began to water from the sight. For an agent, death would be nothing more than a common occurrence. However, this was a different scenario, as a few tears streamed down his face. Before he could take another step forward, George finally free from his zip ties, carefully lifted you in a gentle motion, trying to prop you upwards. Lockwood hurried forward then, hands trembling as he grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into a seating position. Your head lulling sideways at an uncomfortable angle. Lockwood's eyes darted all across your form, desperately hoping to find some kind of response from you.

"She took on the mirror...It was too much for her to handle. She fainted from it." George filled him in on what occurred.

Lockwood's breaths grew out of rhythm as he kept your body in place, trying to keep his hands from shaking. His fingers trembled at a furious pace as he placed his hand against your neck, needing to feel for himself for a pulse. To reassure him that you weren’t taken from him. It was a moment that felt like hours had passed. He spoke. “Did she look at it?” They could hear the panic in his voice.

"N-No. She used the skull." Anthony glanced over to where the type three ghost swirled around, displaying its very much livelihood. He wished the same for your state.

Lockwood's sigh of relief was palpable in the atmosphere. He withdrew his head from your shoulder and pressed his head gently against yours, his eyes closing shut. The only thing keeping him from losing it was the slight thump against his fingertips on your neck, it had his entire demeanor relaxing. Though it didn't calm his nerves. "She'll be alright," he promised George, who seemed to be on the verge of panic himself. "She'll be quite alright." He muttered softly as though the tiniest change in his tone would cause him to fall apart. 

Lucy was at a crossroads, her instincts screaming at her how badly she wanted to rush into Lockwood's arms to comfort him at this moment, but she had her priorities straight. You had taken her place. This wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and it angered Lockwood because you never stopped putting yourself before others.

"She knocked me out and took my place. I wouldn't have let her if I knew-" Anthony retracted from you and looked over to Lucy, having her own breakdown.

Knowing of your bond, she knew what losing you would do to him. The last thing she wanted was to add any more stress to his plate and his already heavy heart. “I know. It’s alright Luce...” Lockwood gave her a firm nod. He then turned back to you. Lockwood was staring at what you referred to as your imperfections, a freckle here, a scar against your temple there, and the crease in your brows, to him they were what made you simply perfect in his eyes. He couldn’t help the frown on his lips, the frown on your own lips not sitting well with him. Had you fainted in pain? Were you still in pain? It didn’t shake him as badly as your closed eyes did. He wanted nothing more than to peer into them again. Find a home in them once more. He willed and hoped them to finally open so that he could see that you were alright. 

He lied, your pulse hadn’t been enough, he needed to see you awaken for him to even function correctly. He needed his mind to think about anything else, something else so he asked.

“What marvelous object did she acquire this time...” He scoffed. “My first encounter with her was with the end of an umbrella.”

"The butt of her rapier," Lucy said. "Shit hurt..." She rubbed against the side of her temple.

“A rapier?” He breathed a small laugh. “I see you weren’t quite original this time...” A small smile appeared in Lockwood's eyes as he leaned forward again. His hand lowered to wrap around your fingers, all the while as he carefully placed your head upon his shoulder. His other hand brushed against your cheek, making note of your temperature. “Her hands are getting cold.”

"Is that bad?"

“Y/n. Can you hear me?” He lifted your head from his shoulder. “Her circulation is slowing. Our time frame for waking her up is shrinking.” It's always an internal struggle for him to remain composed, but he had to be strong for the lot of them.

"Where did Pamela go?" George began panicking. He grew weary seeing her hunched over the broken mirror.      

“Leave her, George!" Lockwood let out his frustration at the situation. “She’s not our priority right now.”

“You stupid boy. You broke it!” Pamela whined.

Lockwood turned to look back at Pamela, who was whining about the broken mirror as Lucy’s attempts to bring you back to consciousness were becoming more futile. Lockwood’s patience was wearing thin, and Pamela’s words were doing nothing but adding fuel to the flames.

“We need to go! Now!” Lockwood urged the two of them. As he was already attempting to pick you up, especially with his bad shoulder still bleeding out. The exhaustion hadn’t yet reached him, his adrenaline running rampant. 

Lockwood's words were cut short as he stumbled, dropping you to the ground. His bad shoulder had given way to the exhaustion that now began to consume him. He was losing his grip on everything. “Lucy...” he was pleading now. 

“We’ve got her, let’s go!” Lucy assured his panic, and swung your arm over her shoulder, George taking your other arm.

“Don’t drop her…” Lockwood barked out, as he struggled to maintain a standing position. The exhaustion finally started to take hold of him as his knees buckled beneath him. With his body starting to tremble and lose its grasp, he let out a deep groan, his breath shallowing from the physical exertion.

"Go!" Lucy ordered out of frustration. She admired his concern and care about you but not when their lives were currently on the line and a crazy bitch was staring into the mirror she tried forcing them to look into.

He didn’t want to allow any room for arguing.

-

Anthony had fallen unconscious as the lift back up. His body lay next to yours as George, Lucy, and Kipps adjusted the both of you. The last thing Anthony recalls was lightly pressing his hand on top of yours before he succumbed to the exhaustion that ransacked his body. He felt as though a train drove right into him, though at least now he could say he’s faced down the barrel of a gun and lived to tell the tale. You’d find it humorous. You always thought highly of his jokes and gave him a laugh when most never bothered. He’d give anything to hear you bubble out of joy. See you double over from the loss of air in your chest. He’d give anything...everything.

After the paramedics patched him up and reduced him to an arm sling, he hung back as you lay on the gurney behind him. He twisted in his seat, keeping a watchful eye on you, waiting, willing the universe to spare him and have your fingers twitch, or have you shift around. He needed some peace of mind.

Though the universe was not kind, your body remained lifeless in a state of deep slumber. Lockwood’s heartbeat grew heavier the longer he waited on the back of the ambulance, his mind flooded with the worst-case scenarios. That this would be the last time, that that smile of yours that could charm anyone with ease would be lost. If he was to lose you, then he had nothing left. Nothing and no one. His hand continued to shake as he felt himself become more and more of a wreck. He couldn’t breathe...he wouldn't be able to breathe...and he knew he’d whole himself in his room if you didn’t-

“Will the Mrs live to see another day?”

Anthony looked over at Inspector Barnes. He gestured to your stilified state. He had hoped his joke would upturn the tension but if presumed he hadn’t after Lockwood scoffed and rolled his eyes, adverting his gaze away and back where they longed to remain, solely on you.

“What’d the paramedics say?” He asked again.

“She’s alright...Nothing we couldn’t figure out ourselves. The pressure from the mirror exhausted her to the point of fainting. She’s stable...she’s surpassed every checkup they ministered with flying colors...”

“Yet...” Barnes trailed off.

“They don’t have the slightest clue as to why she won’t wake up. They already tried to but...” Lockwood didn’t want to say it out loud, but speaking it into existence confirmed his worst fears, that even though your vitals were good, and your body reacted well to the fluids they gave you, something was seriously wrong, if not physically, then mentally and that scared him more than anything else. “I have this inclining...”

"Lockwood-" Barnes began.

“I know what you’re going to say. Have hope. Remain optimistic as we’ll continue to observe her, monitor her vitals, hell test her blood. But what good will that do when we’ve done it already…” He paused, the exhaustion growing with every passing moment. “What if she never wakes up?” Lockwood’s breath shudders.

“You both know of the risks–“ Barnes tries to reason.

“We’ve been in the business of risk exposure for years. We don’t expect ourselves to survive from the first encounter. But this–this feeling...” Lockwood’s voice was breaking. He couldn’t keep himself contained any longer. “I’m aware!” Lockwood snaps, his voice breaking, his eyes reddening. “All too aware, but if I’d known this would happen I’d…” His thoughts trail off, unsure of what to say anymore. His eyes kept darting back and forth between you and Barnes. He’d succumb to begging. He would. Just to see you move a little. Any kind of movement. Just one would be enough to quell his panic. 

“Taken her place?” A small knowing smile reached Barnes's brows.

Lockwood couldn’t bring himself to deny it. He took a deep breath, as he spoke in a hushed and gentle tone “I would hand myself over to death without question. Any given day.” He didn’t hesitate. “I’d rather she lose me, than I her. So yes, I’d have taken her place.” Barnes's eyes slowly flickered past his shoulder with an easing smile. He looked down to the rubble. 

“Over my dead body-” Anthony had never turned his head faster. He instantly froze. The relief that had started to wash over him at seeing you had given way to embarrassment. His own injury was forgotten. You sat up and your eyes landed on him. “Hand yourself over to death, or you mad- What the hell happened to your shoulder?” 

“That would be my leave...” Barnes pointed to his left and swiftly left the two of you.

“My shoulder? Oh, it…I was shot.” He answered as simple as that, it contained no other details, nothing to ease your concern, which led you right into interrogating him.

“Shot?” You were taken aback by his nonchalant reply. “What do you mean, shot?” You exclaim. 

“Nothing worth troubling yourself about. How do you feel?” There was an air of tension between the two of you, where everything had become so fragile. After everything that had happened, a simple statement or action would break the illusion. You were awake and animated, and giving him a piece of your mind. It didn’t feel real in the slightest.

“I…” A wave of exhaustion was still coursing through your body, a result of the exhausting ordeal that you had just undergone. The ordeal had exhausted your body so much that your brain shut down. But your physical exhaustion also masked the emotional exhaustion you were feeling. You felt out of your element; overwhelmed by everything that was now around you. Everything felt unfamiliar to you, as though you had been transported into an unknown dimension, one where your mind felt trapped. Anthony’s ghost locked body in your arms. “I don’t know...I couldn’t wake up.”

"I know- The paramedics tried everything and-"

It was impossible to say what you did and didn't remember. But from what you recall, the events of the evening were a blur. "The mirror..." You attempted to scoot closer to him. Your hands grazed against Anthony's hair. Your eyes caught sight of his shoulder, wrapped in bandages and the sling that secured it together. Was it bleeding? But it wasn’t your primary focus. You just needed to feel him. “There were so many faces, so many faces.” You breathe out a gasp. Your eyes watering. “I saw you...”

“Me?”

"You were ghost-locked. I had lost you..." Your breath hitched.

"It wasn't real. I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. It wasn't real." Anthony reassured, pressing kisses against your temple.

"But what if it was...What if what the mirror showed me becomes true?"

He paused, taking a moment to contemplate your concerns. Anthony had already spent the evening playing out the worst-case scenarios, but to hear you state them verbally had somehow made them more palpable. However, a small part of him was curious whether you saw your future by the mirrors doing, or if it was just an illusion to break you mentally.

"Then I'll make sure that doesn't happen." He whispered. His voice was tinged with emotion. His hands reached for yours and intertwined his fingers with yours. A sign of his promise to you.

“You can’t promise that-”

Anthony looked down at your hands, his eyes flickering between them as he attempted to focus on anything other than the overwhelming amount of emotions swirling within him, the emotions threatening to consume him whole. So he focused instead on your hands being intertwined with his, and the sight warmed him in a pleasant way he hadn't felt in many months, as the thought of possibly losing you had him filled with dread.

He leaned over and kissed your knuckles. “Did you not hear my declaration of my love for you?”

“Oh, the one where you give yourself to death- Like hell!” You yank your hand out of his with a scoff.

“Hand myself over–” He corrected you. “I’d hand myself over to death.” He continued.

“I’m about to hand you a right hook.” You throw a playful punch to his bad shoulder, forgetting his injury and rippling with regret instantly. “Oh!”

“Ow.” He groaned. “What’s the big issue?” He laughed softly. “What’s wrong with giving up my life for yours?” He teased. “You know I’d die for you.”

"You don't have my permission." You mutter softly. Bringing a hand up to brush back his hair.

As your hand brushed back his hair, Anthony couldn’t help but smile at the small gesture. He grabbed the hand you used to brush back his hair and lightly kissed the back of your hand again. “If I wanted to I would give myself over to death this very instant. I’d do just about anything for you, you know.” He replied. His gaze was now fully on you. His eyes were a deep amber, shining like two gemstones.

"And that's what scares me the most." You hum.

“It shouldn’t.” He scoffed with a smile. “Besides, I thought you valued my loyalty.” He raised a brow playfully.

"Yes. When I'm not there to defend my word. That’s when I put my whole faith in your loyalty to me...but when death comes knocking. I don't want it." Your eyes soften.

He looked away briefly, then back at you with a teasing smile. “I wouldn’t give my life to save just anyone, you know.”

"Oh, I'm aware." You fight back an amused smile. He noticed it though, he caught the smile that you attempted to mask. You were never able to conceal much around him, and that was all right. He liked seeing your emotions on full display. You were your truest self when you let your guard down around him. It made you all the more adorable that way. “And you?” He asked. “Would you give yourself to death for me?” He teased, but you knew he was serious.

Your smile widened for a moment before you caught yourself, and answered without taking a beat. You would allow him to know your fears, for the fear of seeing him suffer on your behalf was the worst feeling one could endure. That was something you hated the thought of. You didn’t quite see yourself as the more vulnerable one out of the two of you. Deep down Anthony conquered his inner demons through you, shared his past, his troubles, and confessed his deepest fears to you. You’d help him without any hesitation. You would do anything for the bloke, even if that meant going as far as sacrificing your own life for the sake of him getting to keep his, you would do it, and you’d do it in a heartbeat no less.

“Any given day.” One glance into your eyes and Anthony knew. He knew you would keep that promise till death tethered on whose hand to take. When? Well, you’d never truly know for sure.

Content with your answer, he leans in and kisses your cheek softly. You relax into his touch, your lashes brushing down on top of your under-eyes. He pulls away with a stupid grin. His eyes filled with want and mischief, your favorite combination.

[websterss]

SEE RIGHT 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! Feedback is always welcomed!

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. 

[websterss]

CUDDLE COMFORT — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

SUMMARY: Evenings with Anthony are what you look forward to the most when given the chance to finally rest, especially after long cases.

WARNING(S): Slight insinuation but that’s it really, fluff

WORD COUNT: 2,222

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

After you had bid Lucy and George a goodnight. You hurriedly follow Anthony into his and yours shared bedroom. He was not in the mood after tonight's case, especially after having Kipps and his crew lend a hand. It didn’t take long for him to burst out of the stopped taxi and make his way inside. Now here you are, watching him try to wind down from the built up rage and exhaustion inside him.

You lean back against the door, it closes with a click. You tuck your hands into your back pockets. You lean your head back against the wood watching as Anthony furiously tries to undo the knot of his tie. He clenches his jaw as he pulls against the material. When it doesn’t budge he moves on to take his shoes off instead. One after the other being thrown off to the side carelessly, something you know he’ll regret doing by the morning. He lets out a sigh and tries to control his breathing. You take notice in the way his fist clenches.

You push off the door and make your way over to stand between his legs. He subconsciously widens his spread to allow you to get closer. You hum as you reach forward and gently work on the knot he couldn’t get undone himself. He finds comfort in your serene stature, your shoulders slouched and fimble hands moving swiftly and slowly. He envy’s the way you’re not nearly as bothered as he was. Kipps’ stupid face slowly starts to dissolve from his memory as your fingertips brush against his jaw. He reaches forward to pull you closer in by the waist. His fingertips lift the hem of your shirt just enough to graze your skin. It had been a long day and all he wanted was nothing more than to feel you under his fingertips. To revel in the linger of your soft touches and your lavender scent. You pull out the tie from around his neck and begin to wrap it around your hand. It doesn’t take long for his head to fall against somewhere along the area of your stomach. You glance down and start to thread your fingers through his locks. You add in the occasional back rub to help him further relax. He hums, enduring in the pleasure you relieve on his back muscles. You knew that Anthony needed to find tranquility within the four walls of his and yours bedroom, and fast, or else he’d spiral into madness.

He pulls back slowly. His tiredness was clear as day. His dark black circles only make his lack of sleep more apparent. He keeps his hands at your waist. Letting you take over. Your hands now work on removing his dress shirt. A few smudges of dirt coating the once white fabric. You mindlessly work your way down the shirt, finding solitude in the silence that washes over you two. His eyes watch your every move with attentiveness as you help him undress. A dynamic some wouldn’t understand but one you both relinquish in. It’s intimate…private. It was your thing.

You stand back up after undoing the last button. Anthony closes his eyes in delight as you push his disheveled locks back. “Pajamas tonight or…“ You trail off to allow him to ponder his choices. You smooth your hands over his collarbones and under his shirt to slide it off his shoulders. Anthony lifts his chin as he helps you maneuver the sleeves down to his wrist. You can feel the knobs turning in his head upon seeing his signature grin showcase itself. A glint of mischief glosses over his brown eyes.

“We could do without them tonight, no? Besides, they would just get in the way like always.” You throw your head back laughing. Only he would be in the mood after a horrendous day. You adored your boyfriend with a passion. He never fails to make your nights after a long ass day of ghost hunting. His stomach flutters hearing his favorite tune. It only makes him laugh along with you cause your laugh was incredibly affectionate.

“No.” You groan. Your face pinches into a pout. You hang on to his shoulders loosely, head still thrown back.

“Come on.” He tilts his head. Though he knew just from the shit day you’ve all had that you both would not last very long. He’d be surprised if he even lasted enough for a make out. He was barely surviving off of what little bit of energy he did have left. No way he’d be able to put in the energy to tango with you. You likewise. You weren’t any better. He could see it clearly on you just how exhausted you were. If his dark circles were anything to go by, it was the fact you weren’t even trying to hide how tired you were anymore. Your eyes weren’t far from drooping shut. You were ready for bed. You had allowed yourself to finally relax the minute you stepped foot inside the house. You were physically drained and yet you somehow still remained on your two feet. Your features are relaxed now. No lines visible. Just the crinkles from your squinted eyes. “We will not last a second, my darling.” He admits with a light laugh. His eyes begin to droop and fall shut for a split second. The hand in his hair was not allowing him to stay awake.

“A millisecond more like it…Anthony, I’m as dead as-“ You began with a complaint. Your brows furrow in thought. Your brain falters as you can’t manage to come up with anything to compare being as dead as. “Well…I’m not exactly sure now, but what I do know is that I am incredibly tired and on the verge of passing out.” You breathe out a laugh. A boisterous laugh emits past Anthony’s lips as you take off your jacket and shirt rather hastily. You blow a raspberry as you let the clothes hit the carpet. Your hands flop to your sides as you stand in an unflattering way. You might as well resemble the hunchback from Notre Dame. “Where’s your shirt?” You begin walking around the room to find your version of pajamas. Underwear and a big tee always do the trick for you. Anthony leans back against his hands. He arches a brow, amused as you shuffle back and forth. Your hands pressed against your bra covered breast as you searched for his shirt. An adorable habit of yours he loved.

“I think you forgot another layer.” His implication behind his smirk isn’t missed by you. You just choose to ignore him.

“Nope, I’m good.” You hum as you start throwing loose clothing around. “Where is it…” You mutter under your breath.

“Would you like me to assist you?” He begins unzipping his trousers, opting to exchange them for a pair of sweats.

“To find your shirt? Yeah that’d be nice!” You stifle a laugh watching his smirk fall. “Ah, there you are- haha.” You boast in victory. You let out a monster like growl, close enough to have you mistaken for the Cookie Monster. You slip the shirt over your head and through your arms. You reach behind you and unclip the bra from under the shirt. You slide the straps smoothly down each arm and take it out from the front of your shirt. Your smirk grows as you hold the bra in front of Anthony’s face. The strap dangling from your finger.

“I don’t know why you choose to remove it under the shirt. It’s not like I haven’t seen them before you know. Gorgeous might I add, they deserve to be freed.”

“I know they do…” You nod in agreement. “And I know you’ve seen them, but I’m tired. If I free them and show them to you, you’ll go primal on me. We’re tired, let’s just rest tonight, yeah? Sleep in. Also it feels a little bit exposing at the moment especially when I’m not in the mood.” You poke his stomach causing him to flinch away. “I felt the need to take my bra off this way-“

“No, no no. It’s okay. I get it. You don’t need to further explain it to me. I shouldn’t have implied or suggested that.” He holds you by the arms. A faint tired smile mirroring your own. He rubs his palms up and down your skin. You sigh and let your eyes fall shut. It doesn’t take long till he’s tugging you into bed with him. “No more further implications. Let’s just get into bed.” He crawls in through his side, while you crawl on the bed to get to yours. The covers are thrown back. Each of you taking to your preferred sides. You both settle under the covers after a passing of wiggling around to get situated. Anthony extends out his right arm, and you find your place cuddled up into his side. You sigh heavily. Groaning out a moan as the mattress and covers invite you with a warm embrace. You can feel the heat radiate off Anthony’s chest. He lets out a soft chuckle as he nuzzles his face into your neck. A tender kiss pressed against your skin. You hum in delight as he goes for your hands, intertwining them together. He brings your hand up to his lips, giving them a kiss which he transitions into draping your intertwined hands over your side. You occasionally switch up the spooning but it looks like he preferred to be the big spoon tonight. Who were you to argue with that? A beat passed then you started up with a softness in your tone. You both liked to converse about your days before sleep overtook you.

“I cannot believe that Kipps' crew came to the rescue once again.”

“We were not rescued.” He pulls you closer, a scoff falling in your ears. You roll your eyes. You know how prideful he grew to be. Too cocky to admit that this case was way out of your control. 

“I don’t know...” You argued. “Having him pull you back over the railing seems like he rescued you.” You turn your head a tad to meet his eyes. He now rolled his eyes.

“I had it handled.” 

“You were dangling from one arm.” You quirked a brow at him. “Your hand was slipping...” 

“A mere moment of weakness.” He brushed it off. “Given another minute, I’d been able to pull myself over.” He gave his signature grin.

“Anthony.” You sighed. “You were rescued. They rescued us. Thank god they came when they did.” You settled your head on his shoulder. You raised your intertwined hands up to your lips to seal your love upon his knuckles. “I wouldn’t be having this conversation with you had they not. You’re here because of him whether you refuse to acknowledge that or not. We’re here, on account of the many times Kipps crew have saved us. You may hate him for showing up and granting us our lives again, but I’m grateful for that bloke alright. Thankful he’s given us another day to lay here...to cuddle and all.” You breathe out a shaky laugh. Tears brimming your waterline. You only lightly laugh further as he wraps his arms around you more securely. 

“I do...I do acknowledge that the walking appendix has rescued us.” You scoffed at his attempts to compliment him. “I am grateful. I promise you I am.” He presses a kiss against your temple. “I cherish our cuddles entirely too much...”

“But?” You edge on.

“I am not admitting that we were in fact vulnerable nor thanking him.” 

“I expected nothing less from you.” You pressed your cheek against his chest. Your eyes flutter. Sleep overpowering your bodies as you're wrapped in each other’s embraces.

“You’re gonna write him a letter and have us all sign it aren’t you?” He groans, his eyes closed shut, and his mind still awake at this point. 

“Might even send a goody basket. Think he prefers doughnuts or strudels?” You hum out. 

“I don’t care.” He shifts again and settles into a comfortable position. You hummed, finding comfort as silence fills the room again. A beat passes, then... 

“Strudels.” He huffs, giving in. If he couldn’t stop you, he’d join you. 

“Really? I saw him more as a pie sort of person.” Your face scrunches in question. Your eyes still remain shut. 

“Strudels. End of discussion. Now go to sleep.” He groans as you get pulled flushed against his skin. His hands fiddle with the hem of your shirt under the covers. His hand doesn’t stray lower than the hem, only lifting it a bit to meet the skin of your stomach. You stop shifting and relax your muscles. Reveling in Anthony’s soft touches. He thought peace finally overcame you. That you both would fall asleep, which would put an end to this night, and wake to begin the start of the next day. He knew better than to welcome your silence so suddenly.

“I think I’m going to make him a pie instead.” Your eyes open, focused on the ceiling. Anthony groans, hiding his face in your neck. 

“Go to sleep...” He muffles out.

“Strawberry or apple. Think he’d like apple?”

[websterss]

HOLDING OUT — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: Hello!! I simply adore your fics with my whole heart I was wondering if I could request a Lockwood and co fic with Lockwood? Where maybe reader, him, and, Lucy are all at the auction and once they make their escape to the roof reader fights golden blade with her rapier and just before they jump maybe she gets stabbed or something? And lockwoods just freaking tf out? And he’s just pleading for her to stay with him and just angst to fluff if possible? I love your fics and your writings so much! 

WARNING(S): angst, some fluff, mentions of stab wound

WORD COUNT: 1,746

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Anthony had tugged on your and Lucy's hands back the way you came. Peering over the edge of the building had resulted in a dead end leaving you with the option of jumping into the freezing water or facing Golden Blade.

You all stopped dead when he blocked the way with the tip of his blade. Anthony had attempted to shield you behind his frame, but you weren't having any of it tonight. You were exhausted from running all day long, and you really wanted some tea and buiscuts. You were teetering on your last braincell. 

“That was mine!” He growled. The Bone Glass long gone in the hands of DEPRAC by now. Flo and George ensuring of its safety.

“Oh geezus, give up!” Anthony began backing the three you of towards the edge. “Bone glass is with DEPRAC, now it’s over.” 

“You don’t understand the game at all do you?” Golden Blade scoffed. 

It didn’t take long for you to unsheath your rapier, drawing it and directing it towards the man before you. His eyes met yours across the length of your weapon. There was a moment of tension and a flicker of surprise in his eye but he merely smirked.

"Oh my, looks like we have a fighter here. I always like a girl with spirit. Shall we dance? I wouldn't mind taking a spin." He spun his blade around, showing off and taunting you to attack.

“Do not engage, Y/n!” Anthony frowned.

"I do like a good tango!" You ran forward taking the first strike, ignoring Anthony’s pleas to stand down.

He sidestepped and your blade swished past his shoulder, missing him by an inch. His blade slashed up, trying to cut into your cheek but you'd already moved out of the distance of the blow. You took another step and jabbed at his side, only for him to dodge again.

“Y/n come on!” Anthony begged once more.

Lucy turned in time to catch him get up on the ledge, peering down into the water. “No, no, no, no.” She shook her head immediately, not wanting to take his extended hand. “No Lockwood.”

“Lucy he’ll kill us all-Y/N leave him!” He called after you, watching you swing and dart with precision, but it was the precision that made him fear for you to make a mistake and get hurt. 

"I always did prefer a woman with some backbone," Golden Blade grinned, his blade dancing above his head as he parried your next blow which was aimed straight at his face. You were good with the rapier, he'd give you that much. The two of you circled one another for some moments until you attempted to stab his midriff and he responded by launching forward, the tip of his blade piercing skin, your skin. You gasp as your weapon clattered to the ground, the silence growing eery and still as you looked down at where he got you.

“No!” You could hear Lucy and Anthony exclaim. 

You slowly look up at his eyes filled with amusement. He now faced a child simply scared for her life. “But even those with the confidence, are sure to have a weakness. You’re impulsive child.” He pulled the blade out of your abdomen. Your hands trying to clutch at the bleeding wound with shaky hands. You spared him one last glance before you turned and ran. Anthony had reached for your hand mid jump, but he had missed you by an inch. Your gasp filled his ears as you lept off towards the water. You fall into the icy waters of London, the air leaving your lungs as you plunge past the murky surface.

He watched you disappear with a splash. His heart thumping loudly in his ears. He gripped Lucy’s hand and lept off the edge. 

The icy water bit into your skin as you submerged completely. The water's embrace was chilling and bitter and you could feel the wound ache more when you plunged into the water. You kicked your legs and arms using what strength you had left to help you break the surface. You weren’t the strongest swimmer. Anthony knew it too, but you guessed when you feared drowning that your flight or fight response could possibly save you. You gasp as your head comes up, inhaling a chunk of air before you fell back down under the surface. You tried to kick upwards, feeling around in the water for something solid to grab on to but the water pushed against you with relentless force. You were drowning. Your head surface once more before you were met with a solid form. Your arms immediately clinging to it as you coughed up water. It wasn’t until a brush of fingertips pushed back your wet hair, that you realized it wasn’t a something, but a someone. 

"I've got you, I've got you!" Anthony held you close as your head fell forward onto his shoulder. "I've got you love." He swallowed the thick lump in his throat. His eyes closing shut as he fought to keep you both above water.

You clung to him for dear life. You were shaking and trembling with the cold, as well as the terror that you almost died. You were sobbing into his shirt, and even with the pain in your torso, you tried to hug him tightly, so that he wouldn't let go and you would never let go. He was the only lifeline you had right now. “He stabbed me...” Your lips trembled with the admition. 

This had Anthony recoiling back in your arms. His eyes were wide with concern and fear. He immediately checked you over. Lucy treading closer to the two of you. "What?" She exclaimed. "Where?" Anthony had lowered his hands down your sides and when his thumb brushed against the top of your jeans, your whimper was enough to let him know where it was you were injured. 

“Can you float?” His tone soft, but concern ridden. You barely missed the rasp in his throat as he blinked back tears. 

You nodded. Unwrapping your hands from his neck, allowing him to guide you on your back. One hand kept underneath you at all times. His hands had slowly reached forward to lift the hem of your shirt. Lucy's heart froze as she came closer to the two of you, her gaze fixated on the wound as well as you shaking from the cold. You had stopped crying, having focused your energy on maintaining yourself afloat. You kept your eyes closed as you tried to breathe. You’ll stay afloat as long as there’s air in your lungs, Anthony’s voice rang through your head, but no matter how hard you focused, the panic made only made it worse for you. Your eyes fluttered open in a flash, and you reached out for him again. Anthony caught you before you slipped under the surface, bringing you closer once more, letting you wrap your arms around him. 

Anthony couldn’t stop the wave of emotions that crashed up against him. He didn’t want to be crying in front of anyone, but he felt completely overwhelmed, tears filled his eyes as he held you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. He had been afraid. Very afraid that he was going to lose you, right out here in the middle of the freezing river in London.

“We’re gonna get you help soon okay. I just need you to hold out for me a little longer. Can you do that for me?” He lifted your chin with his hand gently. You mustered a small nod but he needed more than that from you. “I need to hear you love. Just a little longer.”

“Just a little longer.” You echoed back to him. “I’m not a good swimmer Anthony...”

“And yet you jumped into the river.” His laugh breaks the tension.

“You were gonna do it first-had to beat you to it.” You breathe out a laugh.

“I would not have jumped in.” You both turn to Lucy, watching her tread water shivering. 

“Ready?” He dipped his chin to you both. 

“No.” You shook your head, you could feel the exhaustion getting to you but you knew you couldn’t let sleep win over your body.

“Whatever.” Lucy began swimming forward, the shore was the goal. 

“We can stop if you need to take breaks.”

“No, no stopping, the sooner we get to shore the faster we can take me to the hospital.” You breathed out again. 

“I’ll get you there safe and sound. I refuse to let the river claim you. I promise you.” He leaned forward and kissed your temple. You sighed against his touch. 

“Don’t let me go.” 

“I’d be stupid to.” There it was again, his charming smirk you adored. 

As you lay your head on his shoulder you felt his arms become tighter around you as a shiver ran down your spine. Your body shook uncontrollably against the cold of both the river and the weather. He could feel your teeth chattering and wanted to wrap you in his coat, give it to you, but you'd probably punch in the face if he tried. So he opted to just keep holding you close. His promise to never let you go would remain sound and safe in his heart. He'd swim across the ocean just to ensure your life, even if he was on his last remaining strength, he'd hold out to get you to safety. He was exhausted, knowing that the swim would take twice as long for you both but he'd get you there. He'd make certain of it.

He swam for what felt like hours but you could finally make out the shore. Lucy beat you both there, but she waited for you both to get there. She laid on top of the rocks, catching her breath. However, the look of relief that washed over her face made you want to sob from exhaustion. If not for the sting of your wound and numbness in your body, you would've flung yourself in her arms and just burst out crying right here and now. Yet still, you were so very grateful to see her wait on you. Anthony walked you both over to where she was and flopped the both of you beside her. Your chests rose and fell from the swim and the cold, but you were alive. That’s what mattered the most. You’d be alright.

[websterss]

THE BEST PEOPLE IN LIFE (4) — MEMORIES, MEMORIES

SUMMARY: Anthony is fighting for his life trying to further understand your sudden unexplainable ghost locking. In need to try and garner more answers, the four of you head back to the place where the mess all started, only to be stopped by various accounts of old memories.

WARNING(S): mentions of amnesia, death, angst, flashbacks, mentions of domestic violence, an insight on y/n's parents, slight brief mention of murder, quill, and Barnes in a flashback, slight mention of blood.

WORD COUNT: 5,020

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! Surprise this series might be longer than 4 parts now. Continue to join me on this journey where I'm trying to navigate this series towards a good ending lmfao

MASTERLIST

You had tried to squeeze his hand. As you sunk into the back of your mind, you found yourself incapable of moving. You tried to scream for him but your mouth felt glued shut. Your body was stiff as a board as your eyes stared past Anthony’s form.

If you could have seen his face. Fear stricken, his eyes widened as he sat up on his knees, vividly shaking you and pressing light taps to your cheeks. Dread and confusion glossed over his eyes seeing a white milky glaze form over your y/e/c eyes again. 

“Y/n? Hey, no, no. Y/n, can you hear me?” He gripped your face. He was shouting at you as your body locked itself out of nowhere. You were fine. You were fine just a second ago. You only closed your eyes for a second then this happened. He was panicking. The confident esteemed leader of Lockwood & Co was nowhere to be found. A scared boy feeling helpless and vulnerable as he screamed for the girl he held feelings for took his place. “L-Lucy!” His voice cracked as he pressed your face into the crook of his neck. His body shook as tears fell harshly down his face. He didn’t know what to do. “Lucy!” He cried. He pulled your face back to look at you. His hands caressed your face, hoping to bring you back from whatever supernatural occurrence this was. “G-George!” 

Footsteps pounded up the staircases. One after the other until the attic door burst open hitting the hall harshly with a bang. “Lockwood?” Lucy and George stopped as they stepped onto the landing. Lucy's heart clenched as she saw the scene before her. Her brows furrowed with confusion as she rushed forward to inspect the situation. Anthony let up his grip on you, letting Lucy hold you this time. He slumped back against the bed frame railing, running his hands through his hair, he was now starting to hyperventilate. George dropped down too, his eyes observing the white milky glaze you adorned during your ghost lock state with questions. 

“Lockwood what happened?!” Lucy's bulging eyes cast onto him. She breathed through her mouth, gently holding your locked state. She only grew more anxious when he didn’t respond. He closed his eyes, clutching at his chest through his dress shirt. “Anthony!” She reached forward gripped onto his tie and shifted. Pulling him into a sitting position. “What happened?” 

“We- We were just talking…only talking, swear!” He cried out. He was a weeping mess. Lucy looked back at you. Scared and curious as to how this could be. 

“Y/n, can you hear me?” Lucy patted your face. “Why’s this happening?!” She looked off to George for an answer. George shrugged, feeling helpless in this matter. He too knew so little about the subject of coming out of being ghost locked…only to go back into ghost lock again? It was very confusing. You were the one and only first person to awaken out of a ghost lock comatose. There was still so much to learn about this temporary state. So many questions he wanted answers. The first was why you fell back into your previous state.

“Please, please!” Anthony’s hands still gripped onto yours.

“Y/n, can you hear me?” 

You could, that’s what scared you even more as the sudden flashes of memories hit you like a truck. 

“We’re hardly making ends meet to keep this bloody roof over our heads, now you want to make matters worse and leave for a job you haven’t even secured yet?” An image of a tall woman shouting at a man with a beard flooded your frontal lobe. 

“I’m in the process of sealing this contract. I just need to leave for the trip and then we’ll be able to stop worrying about missing deadlines, and missing payments on bills. I’m doing this for us!” The man declared. 

“No, you’re doing this for yourself. No one asked this of you. I certainly did not-“

“I thought I was doing the right thing!” 

“You absolute idiot. You of all people would think so blindly especially with this epidemic. Our home is on the verge of being taken from us, do you not understand?!” You hid behind the corner you peeled through. “You stupid son of-“ You peeked around again to find the woman holding one side of her face. The loud smack wasn’t lost on you. You glower in fear, scared of what will happen next. 

“I’m doing this for us…” The man’s voice sighed heavily. “You’re ungrateful you know that?” He shook his head. 

“I’m sorry.” The woman shrinks into herself. Arms folded over her chest as she backed away from the man. 

“Yeah, you will be once I’m done with you.” 

“No, no, no, please, please!” 

“Y/n!” Your child shelf turned her head, finding interest in the new voice that called out for her. You looked back to the couple fighting then turned and ran out the front door. 

“Y/n, can you hear me?” Tears started to form in her eyes. “We-We need to call Barnes. DEPRAC. Somebody!” Lucy shook her head. 

“You have to wake up. Please…” Anthony begged, sitting up on his knees again. Head titled as he hoped for the color to come back to your eyes again. 

“Y/n? Deary, what are you doing out here so late?” The woman looked beyond the threshold, cupping the back of your head as you lunged forward to hug her jean-clad legs. She expected someone, rather your parents, to show up, though she saw no one out on the streets late at night. They were all abiding by the curfew that was set. “Let’s get you inside, yeah.” She ushered your smaller self in. She helped you shrug your coat off. Hanging it high above on the hooks, out of your reach.

“Celia darling, who was at the door?” A nice well kept looking man walked into your line of sight. A cup of tea in his hands, though he paused mid-sip seeing you grace his front entrance. 

“Y/n?” He questioned you, though your expressionless demeanor only further made him curious. “What a pleasant surprise…” He set his mug down and came over, crouching down to your level. “What’s brought you over to visit the Lockwoods, huh?” Your eyes meet his eyes for a brief second, then you say.

“He hit her. He hit mumma, again.” 

Celia and Donald lock eyes before Celia comes to crouch down in front of you too. “Where'd he hit her? You don’t have to show us. You can just tell us.” Though she offered a faint smirk, you already raised your hand. Demonstrating the slap you witnessed happen, to yourself, though much more delicate. Celia closed her eyes. Then braved a smile. Reaching out to grab your tiny hands. “Would you like to bunk with Anthony tonight or Jessica? Take your pick, we won’t judge, Jessica tends to snore though.” Her heart swelled hearing you emit a laugh. “Anthony, right?” You nodded. “Yeah alright, come on, let’s get you settled. Have you eaten at all?” One shake of your head confirmed her worst thoughts. “We made a broth, though if you're anything like Anthony, he’s quite the picky eater. Won't ever touch his vegetables.” 

“I’m not picky.” You smiled up at the woman. Her shoulders slumped, a faint laugh failing past her lips. She felt for you, though as a mother always, she took you in as her own. 

“Alright, my darling. Sit here, yeah.” She pulled out your chair for you. “Donald, would you tell Anthony to come here!” She called out the kitchen door. “Now, would you like the froggy bowl or the cool spider one?” She raised the spider bowl to her lips as if to tell you a secret. “Don’t tell Anthony, but he likes the froggy one.” 

“The spider one.” You point to him. 

“The spider one. I knew you had great taste!” She pointed at you. 

“Y/n?” You both turned toward the source of the sound. A younger Anthony walking into the kitchen appeared. 

“Anthony!” You exclaimed getting up from your seat. You went over and hugged him. His arms embrace you as well. You pulled back with a smile. “You have to wake up.” 

“What?” You flinch, confused. 

“Y/n, you need to wake up. Please wake up- Wake up-“

“Y/n wake up-“ Your sudden gasp startled the three of them. They flinch back as you come to. Your body falling forward. Your muscles were tingling from having not moved for a bit. Though if it hadn’t been for Lucy you would have fallen face first. 

“Oh my god!” Lucy cried as you were still trying to grasp for air. You kicked your feet, as a panic started to rise within you. You look around as your once sudden blurry vision clears over. The dim orange light from your lights lighting up the room and the face in front of you. You clutch onto Lucy as your eyes dart across every surface, every spot in the room, then to Anthony and George, then up to Lucy. You raise your right arm to cup one side of her face. Your eyes gloss over with tears. 

Anthony reached forward, culling the back of your head and pressing his head against yours, both of you breathless. 

“Oh thank god!” His face pinches. He pulls back, a light gasped laugh emits from his lips. Your eyes return to their original shade. “Your eyes!” However, the happiness and relief did not last long as you let out a faint whimper. You hold onto Lucy and Anthony, needing to feel a human touch. The memory was still very prominent in your mind, but you didn’t want to elaborate on it just now. You were still trying to process what the fuck just happened to you. 

“I could hear you…I could hear you.” Your face scrunched as tears spilled down your face. “But I couldn’t move.” 

“You’re okay now. You're okay now. I promise.” Anthony pressed a kiss to your temple. “It's over. It’s over...” 

“This is way above our pay grade…” George held onto your ankle. 

“What’s happening to me?” You slump back into Lucy’s arms. 

Lockwood looks at Lucy and George in defeat. 

-

You hadn’t thought much about following Anthony, Lucy, and George into a random house blindly. Anthony had claimed it was a necessary means to hopefully trigger some of your lost memories. But in other terms, he also said, he was hoping for answers about what may be causing you to have survived being ghost-locked. You had strolled up alongside him as the four of you walked down the pavement. Your furrowed brows and tense shoulders weren’t lost on him when he looked over at you, trying to read you.  "What is it?" You look over at him, brows raised. Your mouth opened and closed as he waited patiently, expectedly. It had barely been a full day and it amazed you how well he saw right through you. 

"When I froze up again earlier...I saw a memory of some sort." You frowned. "I don't know what to make of it truly."

Anthony listened intently as you spoke, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, as he followed the sidewalk alongside you. He kept his stride to match yours as you walked, his eyes focused on your face, taking in every detail. When you mentioned the memory you had seen, his expression shifted to one of concern and confusion. Anthony paused for a moment, his steps slowing.

"A memory? What did you see?" He asked quietly.

"You, me...this older couple. Though seeing the resemblance it's not hard to assume as such..." You paused then looked over at him. "I think I saw your parents. The memory unsettled me, there was this other couple there two...my parents I think. I ran off to your house. Your mother opened the door to find me crying. They let me spend the night with you..." 

Anthony's expression softened even further, his eyebrows furrowing as you described the details of the memory. He listened intently, his focus entirely on your words. His heart aching at the memory you were suddenly recalling…remembering but still unsure of it. He went to say something but you spoke up again.

“I can’t remember them, my parents. I felt safe when your parents popped up in my mind, but the other two…” You shook your head. “It was like I couldn’t breathe.”

He reached forward to grasp your hand. “As insensitive as it may sound. I’m glad you don’t because they were the worst people, but selfishly, I don’t hold everything against them…because they gave me you.” He grinned wholeheartedly, raising your hand to kiss the back of your hand. “It’s alright if you don’t remember them. I’d prefer it, and as for the memory alone. You were vulnerable and scared, I think you conjured up the memory for it to bring you comfort from what it sounds like…You were in search of the comfort that was given to you willingly and openly.”

“Your parents.” You breathed out a laugh, tears brimming your waterline.

“My parents…” Anthony laughed softly with you. Anthony noticed your absence, frowning. He reached forward once again, raising a hand to wipe a tear cascading down your cheek. He leaned down, trying to look at your face. “Hey…look at me.” You had been looking down at your shoes, when he gripped the hand that he held. “I’m gonna fix this.” He promised.

You looked into his eyes as he spoke, the emotions swirling in his own eyes as he offered a comforting smile. He wanted nothing more than to see the frown on your lips disappear, but he knew the memories weren't as easy to recall as he had hoped.

"I'm terrified." You nodded as you looked over to Lucy and George stood by, watching you and Anthony talk. "What if I never gain my memories back? Would you be able to live with it, having to restart anew with me? I can see it on you, it's eating you alive. It bothers you that you don't have your best friend back. What if that girl never truly comes back-" 

“Don’t.” He cut you off, his voice firm and determined. He wasn't going to let you go down the rabbit hole of doubt and what-ifs. Anthony reached forward with both hands to cup your face, holding your gaze with his own. “Don’t you dare question that for a second? Of course, I’ll be able to live with it. You’re in front of me now.” He took a sharp breath. “I don’t care if you can’t remember a single bloody memory. You’re here, now. That's all that matters.”

"You may be able to, but I don't think I would. I can't do that to you, to Lucy, and George. You all lost me and I can't bring her back to you-" You shook your head trying to get out of Anthony's grasp. You had pulled away and hadn't realized you had stepped out onto the road. 

"That’s what you’re worried about?!" He exclaimed, stepping forward off the curb to follow you. "We didn’t lose you. You’re still here! Right in front of me!" Anthony exclaimed, his voice laced with frustration and concern. "Just because you can’t remember, that doesn’t change you." He reached forward, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you back onto the sidewalk, away from the road. You wouldn’t give in to him though. You stepped back again. 

"You're not getting it!" You exclaim.

Anthony clenched his jaw, his emotions building up inside him. "What am I not getting, huh? That you're doubting yourself because you don't remember? That you feel guilt about something you have no control over? That you're trying to distance yourself from us because you think you're doing us a favor?!" He huffed. "You're right, I don't get it." 

Anthony had looked away. It had been a mere moment, but it suddenly had tackled you straight into the chest when you gasped out loud for air. Your arms fall at your sides right as your body stiffens and your irises glaze over. 

“You’re right, I don't get it.” A young Anthony huffs out in annoyance as you curl in on yourself. “You cannot go back there. Are you mad?”

You pout as you look down at your shoes. “I need my inhaler and more clothes.” 

“My parents can get you all new stuff.”

“I don’t want new stuff, I want my stuff. I want my bear and my trinkets. They’re all in my chest under my bed. I’d be in and out, they won’t notice or hear me.” You plead.

“No, I won’t let you. I don’t want them to hurt you-”

“Anthony!” Lucy screamed seeing a speeding car grow closer. 

"Y/n?" He repeated your name, louder this time. His tone was a bit panicky as he moved closer to you, his hands extended. One look at your eyes told him everything he needed to know. “Oh god…” He gasped as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back safely onto the pavement. He tripped over his feet in the process bringing you down with him. Your face was buried into his chest. He sat up quickly as George and Lucy rushed over. 

Lucy hit the ground without a second thought. Helping Anthony sit you upright. “Y/n can you hear us?” Lucy pleaded as he held your face. She gasped feeling the temperature of your skin. “She’s freezing.” 

George had knelt too, keeping his eye on Anthony who looked like he was about to throw up. "Lockwood?" Lucy stopped looking at you and looked at Anthony. 

"Lockwood, you alright?" Lucy frowned seeing his dazed look.

“I’m here.” He mumbled. His hands shook, feeling your body tremble in his arms. He gently placed his hand across the back of your head. Pressing against his chest, he could feel your heart thump rapidly, as tears filled his eyes.

George had noticed the look in Anthony's eyes and placed a hand on his shoulder. Anthony looked up at him with wide panicked eyes, and his bottom lip quivered. "That’s two!" His words sounded raspy and choked. "Why is this happening to her?” 

"What do we know so far?" Lucy chimed in, keeping her hand on you. 

Anthony breathed out shakily, taking a deep breath to compose himself. He closed his eyes, trying to recall all the information he had gathered to help piece your memories together. 

"T-The first time this happened we were here, at the house." Anthony nodded off to the house on the corner they had yet to reach. "She sacrificed herself for me."

"Second time?" George questioned.

"We were talking, talking about her getting her memories back. She was scared, she said it felt like she was replacing someone else. That nothing felt familiar to her." Anthony looked down at your stiff form. "She recalled a memory though that's what we were talking about just a while ago."

"About?" George raised his brow. "What?" When he noticed the shift and uneasiness in Lockwood's demeanor. 

"It's not pleasant."

"Out with it, it'll be alright." Lucy caressed your hand slowly. 

"Y/n's father used to beat down on her mother some nights. Y/n would run to ours after curfew was set. She knew the risks but anywhere else was safer for her than in her own home. My parents would always answer the door to her crying and my mother would send my dad to try and calm hers. She's continued staying with us since that night. Her father ended up kil-"

"You don't need to tell us..." Lucy placed a hand on his shoulder, giving him a grim smile. 

"She recalled bits and pieces...so I don't think she truly remembers anything of them."

"What triggered this ghost lock then?" George tilted his head in time to catch a tear spill down your eye. He reached forward, hesitating at first before wiping it. 

"It was probably the arguing." Anthony's guilt began eating at him. “I’m not too sure anymore.”

"In theory…all of this could be the leading cause of words or traces she’s said or heard in the past..."

"Perhaps George, but that still doesn't explain why it's happening in the first place-"

Your sudden gasp had startled them.

"She’s back!" George asked, noticing that your eyes seemed to have returned to normal. 

Lucy quickly moved her attention to your face, her hands gently cupping your face, tilting it toward hers, searching your eyes. They were still a little distant but at least they weren't glazing over as before. Your body still trembled against Anthony's chest crying. Anthony's hands wrapped more firmly around your form, his eyes fixed on your face as you regained consciousness. 

"Oh thank god." He exhaled, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to catch his breath. "You're alright. You're right here." His voice was shaky, relief and worry lacing his every word. “We’ve got you.” 

Lucy and George exchanged looks, each silently sharing the same worried expression.

"Don't let me go back under. Don't let me go back under." You cried, shaking your head. You were tired, your breathing labored.

Anthony's heart ached as he heard your words, his arms tightening around you, pulling you closer to his chest. He ran his hand over your hair, attempting to soothe your distress.

"We won't, we won't. You're right here with us; it's over now." He whispered in your ear, his voice shaking as he spoke. "Just breathe," He whispered, his voice gentle and calming. "Listen to my heartbeat. You're safe now. You're safe with us." He continued to run his hand through your hair, the other hand held you tightly against him, his grip not loosening.

“Y/n what memory did you see?” George rubbed your shoulder softly. “What did you hear?”

“George, not right now!” Anthony pressed as he comforted your cries.

“It’ll answer the theory.”

“Not now!”

“But it’s better if she tells us-”

“George-”

“You’re right, I don't get it. You cannot go back there. Are you mad? I need my inhaler and more clothes. My parents can get you all new stuff. I don’t want new stuff, I want my stuff. I want my bear and my trinkets. They’re all in my chest under my bed. I’d be in and out, they won’t notice or hear me. No, I won’t let you. I don’t want them to hurt you-” You recited the memory. Your voice all leveled out in one unsettling monotone tone.

“Y/n you don’t need to tell us-” Anthony protested.

“-It was like a dream, but the memory doesn’t feel like it's a part of me.”

The silence that followed your sudden recitation was deafening. Anthony’s grip on you tightened, his chest now rising and falling heavily under you as he breathed. 

Lucy and George exchanged solemn glances, both of them appearing shocked by the sudden change in your demeanor. 

"Y/n..." Lucy whispered your name, as Anthony’s hand gently cupped the side of your face, attempting to pull you back to the present. “You don’t have to do this. We can turn around right now and head home.” 

“No, no we’ve made it this far already. What good would turning around now do us?”

“We don’t want to force anything on you.” George knelt to be at eye level with you.

“Too late Georgie…” You muster a sad grimace.

“You haven’t called me that in a while.” George releases a happy breath.

“Y/n…” Anthony calls out your name to gather your attention. You turn to meet his weary gaze. “You say the word and we’ll head back home.”

“We already made the trip here. What more harm can going inside do to me? Maybe we’ll get the answers we’ve been looking for. Maybe then you can fix me.” You look at your teammates, at your small family who stuck with you through and through. 

Anthony's heart was torn between wanting to shield you from further pain and believing that pushing forward might lead to the revelations you had all been searching for.

“We don’t have to do this right now.” Anthony protested, his voice quivering slightly. "We can wait. We-” But before he could continue, George interrupted him. 

"Lockwood...we've got to try something."

Anthony's eyes locked on yours, his mind grappling with the weight of the decision. The memories that lay dormant within those walls threatened to break free and consume him, to take him back to the place he dreaded most. You were waiting on his final say, his final word of approval to venture forward into the house where he believed he truly lost everything that meant the world to him. Where he thought he truly lost the will to live. But he knew that George was right. They needed answers. Taking a deep breath, he clenched his jaw, his expression stoic and resolute. “Alright, but if it’s too much for you, I’m rushing you out of there.” You nodded at him, pushing off the pavement with the help of Lucy. Lockwood had half a mind now, gaining flashes of the past. Faint whispers of how insanely distraught he was that night. 

You held onto his hand as you four approached the door. It was only a matter of minutes before you made the courageous act of turning the knob and pushing past the threshold. The dark cold house welcomes your arrival. You shivered at the shift of temperatures. 

-

“Lockwood, Lockwood. Tony.”  Anthony blinked back his tears as he came back too. “We’ve got to take her now Tony.” Lockwood had only curled your frozen frame further into his chest. Lucy stepped in to be the mediator. 

“Anthony it’s alright. Quill gots her now.” Lucy placed her hand on his shoulder bringing him to the present again. Anthony only blinked as he looked down at your milky glazed eyes.

“How long has he been like this?” Quill’s voice felt distant, muffled. Like water surfaced over his sunken form. 

“Since eight. We got here around six…” 

“It’s two in the morning now…God, I’m sorry we couldn’t get here quicker. You made the right move to call us. I’m just glad you got rid of the visitor in time. Otherwise, who knows what we could have found when we got here.” Quill looked over at the approaching footsteps at the threshold. Barnes sighed as he took in the sight of Lockwood and you. He closed his eyes at the sight and then went to say.

“Any luck?”

“Give him a minute…” Lucy pleaded sadly. 

“Tony, I’ll be as gentle with her down the stairs, swear on it.” Quill dipped his head to try and meet his eyes. Anthony was barely present to muster the energy to speak. “We’re here now…we can help her.”

“You can’t…” Anthony mumbled. He reflected that of a broken child. 

“Lockwood they got her now…we can help-” Lucy was cut off by Barnes's approach.

“Kid…hey look at me.” Barnes' voice was hard, but there was a hint of softness. Anthony slowly lifted his gaze to meet Barnes's, his eyes weary and heavy with anguish. He looked small, broken, and exhausted, like a lost child. Barnes knelt before him, placing a steady hand on his shoulder. Anthony's hand was still wrapped around you, holding onto you as if his life depended on it. "Lockwood," Barnes spoke gently, his voice firm yet sympathetic. "You did the right thing calling us. We're here now, and we can help her. You can't help her if she stays here."

Barnes gestured towards your limp form, still clutched in Anthony's tight embrace. Anthony's eyes followed his motion, his expression one of pain and resignation. "We got her kid…we got her.”

"She sacrificed herself for me..."

Barnes sighed, his expression softening as he met Anthony's tired gaze. 

"I know, kid. I know." He patted Anthony's shoulder comfortingly. "But you can't help her if you don't let go of her."

“She sacrificed herself, it should’ve been me.” Anthony's grip on you tightened instinctively as if he couldn't bear to let you go. Barnes could see the internal struggle he was enduring, the pain etched on his face. 

Barnes nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I know…but she did it to keep you safe. And now it's our turn to keep her safe." His grip on Anthony's shoulder tightened slightly, a firm, grounding presence as he locked eyes with him. "You can't help her if she's stuck here, Lockwood."

"I can't...I can't let her go."

Barnes' expression softened even further at Anthony's words, the pain in his voice was palpable. He squeezed his shoulder gently, a reassuring gesture. 

“You’re not letting her go, you’re letting us help her,” Barnes stated firmly, his voice strained with concern. “Right now, she needs medical attention and she needs it stat. And she won’t get it if you sit here frozen like a statue. It’s gonna be alright, son.”

"No, it's not. I've lost her." A tear slid down his cheek as he relented and let Quill and the paramedics place you on a stretcher and carry you downstairs and out into the paramedics. He looked down at his hands noticing a faint trace of your blood left behind on his left fingertips. 

“She was bleeding…” Anthony's brows furrowed in thought. 

“What?” Lucy at his hands.

“She was cut…Did you see a wound on her anywhere?” He finally looked up, alert and wary. 

“No. Lockwood?” Lucy cocked her head in question. 

“I didn’t see a cut on her…” Anthony mumbled to himself. 

“It was probably just a scratch.” George shrugged it off. 

Yeah, just a scratch, he thought.

-

Lockwood’s heart clenched as you released a shuddered breath, raised your hand at the very moment, and rubbed at a spot below and behind your earlobe. 

[websterss]

CERTAIN — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: Hello, I was wondering if I could request a Anthony Lockwood x reader where the reader is his best friend but they have feelings for each other and don’t realize it until they notice how different they treat each other compared to everyone else (if that makes sense-)? Just fluff please!

WARNING(S): just fluff

WORD COUNT: 3,106

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

Lucy and George had halted their chewing. Watching as you and Anthony worked in synchronization. The pair of you oddly knowing what the other one wanted, without question, without hesitation in any reform. It was undoubtedly so as you spread strawberry jam over Anthony’s toasted bread, whereas he had taken notice of the lack of liquid in your favorite green cup. He reached across you and poured you a good amount of orange juice. Never one for coffee or tea. You liked to drink it with pulp too. You had stopped talking, silently thanking him with a smile before you went back to conversing with Lucy, though she was hardly listening. Not really tuning into your ramble about a bloke who cut you off at Arif’s the other day. Unaware of her eyes flickering back and forth from Anthony placing and taking something in front of you, and you subconsciously making his plate. 

“You’re seeing it too right?” Lucy muttered under her breath, just enough for George to hear. He hummed as he bit down on his biscuit. 

Anthony had immediately taken the toast in front of him, cutting it triangularly with the butter knife. He bit into his own piece then held out his right hand for you to take the other half. Like second nature, you took it and began devouring. His head turned to confirm if you were okay and enjoying it. You hummed, your mouth full of food. You frantically pointed to your mouth and the rest of the piece in your hand. 

“Is it lacking jam...” He nodded. Though not needing another second before he wiped the knife clean on a napkin, and dipped it into the jar again. He gestured to hand it over to him, you mustered a muffled thank you. As you chewed faster. He clicked his tongue at you.

“Slower, you’ll choke.” He shook his head before handing you the rest to finish. You reached forward with your hand, but he tutted you with a stern raise of his eyebrow. You rolled your eyes, but obliged. You slowed your chewing, then finally swallowed it all down. “Wash it down.” He gestured to your orange juice. 

“No, I will not wash it down, give it to me!” You reached for it again, but he held it further from your grasp. “Anthony Lockwood, you dare deprive me of my breakfast.”

“I’d hardly call this breakfast, love. You could do a whole lot better with some eggs, or better yet pancakes. George, do we still have some batter left?” George flinched. Not expecting for the attention to be directed onto him.

“I-I’m not sure. I’ll have to check the pantry.” 

“Well, let me know if we’re out. I can make a quick trip into town for groceries again.”

“You already shopped for groceries though?” You raised a brow at him.

“I know...” He shrugged. “You’re out of those mini pretzel bites though.” The information he inquired was news to you. Your eyes widened, mouth agape. 

“No, I’m not, the bag was still half full the other day!” You could not believe your ears.

“I’m aware...” He slowly grimaced. The look of realization painting over your features made him stand out of his seat. The further the distance he set amongst you the safer he was. “But the thing is...I ate them you see.” He winced watching your face contort into anger. A frown dawning on your lips now.

“You ate them?” You slowly rose from your seat. George and Lucy reached for another biscuit, breaking the rule to only eat one at a time as they watched the scene unfold before them. This was reality tv at its finest. They both bit into their biscuits at the same time, eyes widened, wondering what would happen next. “You ate my bag of mini pretzel bites…”

“Now Y/n, lets not do anything irrational...” He held his hands out, slowly backing away from your approaching steps towards him. “I’m gonna go and get you some more. Swear on it.” He promised, hoping he could bribe his way from your death stare.

“Killing you seems rather rational to me.” He gulped nervously. “Better yet, it’s been long overdue!” You lunged forward but he veered left to flee your grabbing hands.

“Please.” The softness in his eyes almost made you grant him his life…almost. As soon as you mouthed for Lockwood to run, he high tailed it out of the kitchen. Struggling to open the kitchen door and make a break for his bedroom. Though he’d obviously have had a better chance to run out the front door and head to Arif’s. Surely you wouldn’t make a scene in a public place? Right?

Though he wasn’t as smart with his exit escape as he climbed up to the second landing. He tripped over his feet as you reached for his ankles. He let out a squeak of surprise. Lightly kicking you away, but also not trying to cause you any harm. 

Back in the kitchen, Lucy and Geroge strained their ears, wanting to hear the upstairs commotion. 

“Get back here, Anthony!” A loud slam of a door made them jump in their seats. George nimbles on his biscuit then turns to Lucy.

“How long you think till he realizes she can pick a lock?” 

“Lockwood has no clue she can. It might take him a minute for him to register it.” Lucy mindlessly eyed the side you two sat on. She reached forward for the piece of bread you didn’t eat.

“I told him not to do it.” George chimed. “He never listens though now does he. It’s like he enjoys making her chase him.”

“He’s in love, Georgie. He’d get himself ghostlocked just to get her attention.” Lucy grabs your cup of orange juice while taking a sip. 

“You’d think he would tell her by now…” George shakes his head. 

“You’d think she would!” Lucy looks at him with bewilderment. “Those two are as blind as Mrs. Chester’s cat.” 

“Her cat’s blind?” George narrows his eyes. Not yet registering. 

“Scuzzle? Yeah poor kitty…She says he walks into things. Leaves him with dizzy spells, but it’s the only way she ever finds him.” 

“Oh god…” George winces, imaging the poor woman following the sounds of thumps against surfaces.

“Yeah…” 

“How did you- Wait, wait!” Lucy and George shift their heads towards the hallway. 

“That didn’t take long.” Lucy grabs another biscuit. 

“Her best yet.” George stops the stopwatch that appeared out of nowhere. He shows it to Lucy who hums. Very impressed. 

“A minute and thirty. She’s outdone herself!” She laughs. 

“I said I was sorry-“ Lockwood’s cackles echo throughout the house. The lack of beatings told them that you weren’t really out for his head, just out for the common assault of tickling him. “I-I’m sorry. Stop, stop, stop!” 

The two snicker, amused by the whole ordeal. 

“Twenty bucks says he’ll finally cave and tells her.” Lucy turns in her seat, elbow rested on the tabletop to face George.

“Keep your money George. He’s going to tell her at the Fittes ball, especially after Kipps asks her to dance. As a matter of fact, they’ll both realize how blind they’ve been.”

“Why would Kipps ask her to- Oh!” George reels in on her implication.

“Yeah!” Lucy’s eyes bug out. A smirk present of her face.

“You’re gonna make them…” George makes two puppet hands and smashes the tips of his fingertips together to form a kiss. “I get it now.”

“Now all I need…is a plan.”

-

Once you all had made it to the party. You had imagined it like any other highly rich organization would throw a party. Many important people dressed to the nines. You’re formal attire nowhere near as luxurious as everyone else.

“Stop that now.” Lockwood looked around the room. You whip your head up at him, stoping the tug of your dress. 

“I’m not doing anything.” You furrow your brows and shake your head. 

“You’re fussing. You look beautiful...”

You roll your eyes, but the mark of his words leave your knees almost buckling.

“Y-You’re just saying that...” You tug down your dress again. The fabric insufferable against your skin.

“I say a lot of things, but l’d never lie to you.” His charming smile paints his face.

“Now you’re just being annoying.” You huff and fetch a glass from one of the trays going around. 

“I’d prefer the term honest.” He grabbed your glass and took a sip.

“Doesn’t suit you very well...” You take back the glass. 

“Well what does suit me-”

“What a pleasant surprise?” Your smiles slowly fades as the familiar voice appears from the sides of you.

“Wouldn’t really refer it to pleasantry. Rather more so unfortunate.” Lockwood smirked at Kipp.

“Lockwood.” Kipp cleared his throat and then shifted his attention to you. You frowned at your attire before your eyes met his own. “Y-Y/n you…you look magnificent.”

“Ugh!” You rolled your eyes and walked away from the two insufferable men in your life.

Kipp haven been taken back by your leave turns to Lockwood confused. “Was it something I said?” Lockwood looks your way with a sigh.

“Luckily for you…not this time dear friend.” He smirks and clasps a firm hand on his shoulder. “She’s been questioning her appearance since the moment we’ve left the cab.”

“Why on earth would she? She looks wonderful…” Kipps furrows his brows together. "I've just the trick.” He pats Lockwood’s shoulder this time and walks off after you.

You had barely gotten to the staircases when Kipps tapped your shoulder. “Let me speak with you for just a minute, please.” You glance down at your dress before looking up at him. The expression on your face says enough for him to charm you with a smile.

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks. With a scoff, you tug on your dress and try to straighten yourself.

"Everything. The dress feels short, these heels are uncomfortable, and my face has never felt more heavy. I look foolish."

“No, that’s not at all true.” His eyebrows knit together and a small smile plays the corner of his lips. “You, Miss,” He nods to your dress, “Look…beautiful.” He lets the word linger in the air. “You’re quite simply the most stunning woman in the room.”

"Alright sap, what do you want?" You look away as heat grows in your cheeks. "You're being more annoying than usual."

Kipps smirks a bit before stepping even closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. “I need to know,” He leans in, “if you can dance.” Without waiting for an answer he places one finger on your chin and tilts your head up to his, his voice drops and becomes raspy. “Because I’d really like to ask.” He trails off letting his words hang in the air.

"You're being charismatic...because you fancy a dance?"

Kipps chuckles as you catch him in his attempts to sway you. "Would you turn me down if that is the case?" He extends his hand out to you.

"Lucy turn you down?" You tease.

The corners of his mouth twitch up at your taunt. "Never really bothered to ask? Shall we?"

"I don't know...I quite like my toes." You glance down at your heels.

"You'll get to keep your toes." He chuckles and extends his hand again. "Just a dance? Or are you afraid Tony will get mad?" Kipps looks back over to where Anthony is looking your way with a glass in his hand.

"Anthony? Why would his opinion decide my choices?"

"I don't know. You're always worried about his opinion. Why, I'm starting to think you like him, and he likes you." He gives a sly grin. "Given the way he looks at you and vice versa."

"I like him now, do I? What other assumptions have you conjured about what Anthony and I are to each other?"

"I just know that you act differently around him." He smiles slyly. "And he acts differently around you. Love, I've known him longer than you have, he doesn't just let anyone share a glass with him." He smirks as you realize he caught you and Anthony sipping from the same glass.

"You saw that- But that doesn't mean anything…" You exclaim.

"Oh, but it does." He chuckles as you turn away. "Or do you not notice how he always looks at you…how he can't help but stay close when he's around you? I've never seen Lockwood like this with anyone before. Anyone. The lads in love."

"N-No he's not." You glance over to where Anthony is still peering at the two of you. He notices your turmoil before he straightens up and begins making his way over.

Kipps lets out an amused cough. "See? There he is now. He cares more than you tend to realize, Y/n." He watches you and how you look away from Anthony. "I do quite envy him…" You look up with softened eyes.

"Kipps…" You sigh.

Kipps laughs, seeing you sigh. "I suppose you don't see it as that though. I won't pry anymore. But," He glances at your appearance again and then smiles as he lowers his voice. "I do stand by what I said before. You look magnificent tonight. I couldn't take my eyes off you the entire evening." His eyes dart around before settling back on yours. You look down at your shoes. "He holds your heart and you don't even realize the half of it..." He watches Anthony grow closer with interest, then turns back to you. He leans over and presses a kiss to your cheek. You close your eyes with guilt as he pulls away with a smile. "Perhaps our dance can wait another time. I'll see you around, Y/n." You watch him walk away, and look to your right as soon as you feel Anthony's arm brush against yours.

"What did he want?"

You smile at Anthony's eyes on you. "Eavesdropping now?" You tease, trying to hide the fact that Kipps had managed to catch you off guard with an unexpected compliment. To be completely honest, it pleased you. "He asked me to dance." You brush it off.

"S'not the trick I expected," Anthony mutters to himself. "I take it his walk of shame was you turning him down." He smirks.

"Maybe," You roll your eyes. "You jealous?" You snicker.

"Off Kipps. Please…" He shakes his head.

"Right. Of course not." You snicker again and give him a small kick. "You're such a liar, Tony." You look away, avoiding his smile.

"Tony now?" Anthony can't fight off the shit-eating grin on his face. "Oh, I sense trouble. What secrets did he spill now? You never call me Tony."

You bite back a giggle as he chuckles at the nickname. This wasn't the first time you had called him this though. "Shut up." You smirk at him as you glance away.

"I'm intrigued now. What did he say to you?" You groan and look back at him, smiling as you roll your eyes.

"It wasn't anything bad, swear." You fiddle with your ring. "He complimented me. More than once."

"And..." He extended.

"He said some things, but it's not important. You know how Kipps is." You gesture to the crowd around you. "All charm, no bite..." You cut yourself off as you grow timid under his watchful gaze. His teasing smile slowly vanishes when you continue to gaze at him with a new glint in your eyes, he knows that look all too well because he gives you the same one when you're not looking.

You nod, biting your lip as you wait for a response. You don't speak as you stare at him, searching for a sign that your feelings are reciprocated. He looks away, he's seen that look before, he's given that look before.

You notice his eyes glance from you to the crowds before looking back at you. You wait for his answer, it's what you've been waiting months to hear. Your heart beats fast in your chest as you anticipate a final judgment from him. You felt like you were going to explode.

"He mentioned that you…that you…" You start fidgeting with your ring again, twirling it between your fingers. "Hold strong feelings for me." Anthony closes his eyes, not thinking he'd ever have to admit his emotions to you in such a public scene. You glance over his shoulder, catching sight of Kipps tipping his full glass toward the two of you. You couldn't believe that Kipps would've said something like that, but you can't deny your excitement and the butterflies swirling in your stomach. The anticipation was overwhelming you.

His eyes shift from the crowds to you, and back again. You can feel your heartbeat picking up at the sight of his lips and how they're parted.

"He said you love me, that you've felt this way for a while…that you're certain of your love for me." You feel a surge of adrenaline run through your body as you stare at him in silence, anticipating his response.

"I am certain." He nods.

Your entire body felt like it was about to erupt. A jolt of excitement surges through you as your knees buckle slightly, and you start trembling. "So…you do?" You ask although it's completely obvious by the way he's gazing at you.

It seems impossible, you've dreamed of this moment for as long as you can remember, and here it is- right before you. Right here and right now. You felt like you could burst.

Anthony takes a step towards you. "Are you sure it wasn't just Kipps being his usual charming self?" He leans in, taking in a deep breath to smell your sweet scent. "I'm not sure I trust him to tell the truth about such a delicate matter…and-" You cut him off with a sweet kiss. He sighs and relaxes into the kiss. His arms snake their way around your waist to tug you closer.

You felt the electricity running through your veins, you could feel a smile plastered on your lips. Your whole body felt warm and tingly, all the while you couldn't take your eyes off of him. You knew what this meant. This whole night, the entire agency, your job, and all the ghosts you had hunted. None of it mattered as long as he was beside you. He holds you, the heat between the two of you radiates and you feel at home with him. You feel whole.

"I'm sure. I've never been more sure in my life than right now."

[websterss]

THE BEST PEOPLE IN LIFE (3) — HELLO...FRIEND?

SUMMARY: With the rising questions of whether ghost lock is a permanent form. Your doctor decides to run test on you, much to Lockwood’s like, to analyze your sudden loss of memory and to determine how much you actually do recall.

WARNING(S): mentions of amnesia, death, angst, some fluff if you squint

WORD COUNT: 6,972

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

“Lockwood!” Lucy marches after him. The poor man before was pitiful. He walked away from the big court area. Never one to allow anyone to see him break. He kept running a hand through his hair, down his face, he was a mess.

A man who has a lot of experience in hiding his emotions suddenly finds he's had enough. Lockwood was furious. He was on the verge of tears, but he wasn't about to cry. He was shaking with anger and frustration. He walked down the long hallways to the elevator.

“Is this some bloody joke?” He breathes out a laugh not finding anything at the moment hilarious. 

It was the worst thing that could have happened. The agency was already struggling. Now this. It had to be some sort of prank. He was still on the verge of tears, the thought of his best friend not recognizing him, not even remembering they were friends. It broke him inside out. He punched the elevator button with the bottom of his fist, over and over again. It didn't make the doors open any faster. His knuckles ached from the impact. “She can’t remember…S-She can’t remember anything.” Anthony grabbed at his tie, loosening it more so than usual. 

"Lockwood..." Lucy put her hands out trying not to scare him in her approach. Her heart broke for you but more so Lockwood, the impact this weighed on his heavy heart.

He pulled at his tie again, eyes glued to the closed elevator doors that wouldn’t open while telling himself. “She’ll remember, she’ll remember. I know she will. It’ll take some time. People who suffer from amnesia don’t always get their memories back, but there is still a chance.” He spoke to himself but knew Lucy was behind him. He wouldn’t speak to her though. He was too upset, too hurt to give her any sort of response.

“Lockwood.” She tried again.

He turns to face her. His expression is stony, with red-rimmed eyes and tense lips. He was trying hard not to lose control but when he saw her eyes tear up, he couldn’t be angry. All his aggression melted away the second her arms shot out to pull him into a tight embrace and then he sobbed like a broken child.

He let the tears fall. He didn’t care anymore. “S-She can’t remember anything.” He whispered to himself, in a cracked voice, as the elevator doors finally opened. The timing was impeccable. “She doesn’t remember me. She doesn’t know who I am. She doesn’t know any of us.”

Lucy couldn't bear to see him like this. She'd never seen him this emotional. She gently held him in her arms. Her fingers softly traced the outline of his face. She pressed her forehead against his, eyes shut. She wished he would allow her to comfort him. If she could only speak some words of healing. But that's not how trauma worked. She couldn't heal his heart, however much she wished she could. All she could do was hold him and let him cry. She squeezed him tightly.

"I've lost her-" He began but Lucy shook her head.

“You haven’t.” She urged. “She’s still here, still with us. She’s just lost at the moment. But we’re gonna help her find her way back to us. But she’s not gone, we didn’t lose her physically.” She squeezed his hand. She wanted to reassure him. She wanted to calm his mind from the panic and pain. 

"I'm not gonna be able to survive this Luce, have to relive the memories she doesn't remember I-" 

"Then we make new memories with her. Instead of focusing on the memories that are lost, how about we focus on the ones that are being made? She has a second chance now." 

“It’s the old ones I’d prefer that are not all lost…” He looked away from her. 

"I-I bet she’ll remember them, and if she doesn't..." She struggled for the right words. She wanted to say what he wanted to hear, but that wouldn't be right, it wouldn’t be entirely true. "Then we can tell her. You can talk about them. They’ll be new to her, but we-" She paused having run out of words of comfort. “We’ve all lost her Lockwood, but we’ll get her back together.” She nodded, placing a reassuring hand against her upper arm. 

He knew she was right. He couldn’t forget how distraught all of them were when DEPREC came along and whipped you into the back of an ambulance in a hurry. They all had you to lose, but they now had you to gain. He’d make sure of it.

“I think we should make our way back…” Lucy suggested, but it made Lockwood confused. “I think you might have scared her, you did storm off after all.”

“Oh god…” He closed his eyes. “She’s gonna think I-”

“Have unresolved anger issues?” She poked and teased with a timid smile.

“Hilarious.” He huffed and pushed past her to make his way back to the refectory.

-

You continue to nibble on the sandwich Lucy brought to you. Silence had fallen over you and George. The shouting dispersed down the hall, but you had yet to feel slightly relaxed. George picked up on your hesitation, seeing you avert your eyes after meeting his own for a split second. He only had a very brief moment to fully grasp the fact he was actually sitting across from you. You were awake and fully functioning much to his surprise. He went through various stages and emotions of grief and disbelief. 

When he found you and Lucy together at a table, he had gawked at you, mouth wide open, finger slowly pointing at you in disbelief. He kept trying to form coherent sentences, but all that came out of his mouth was stuttered gibberish nonsense. Lucy gave him one lousy second to accept your return before she began pushing him forward. Ushering him off to retrieve Lockwood and bring him here. Now that he was finally sitting across from you without interruptions. He attempted to make conversation, or at best, just a way to familiarize yourself with him. Reacquaint and introduce himself. Amnesia…he couldn’t begin to fathom what you must be going through. 

“I’m George, in case you were wondering.” Your head snapped up to meet his smile. 

“Oh yes hi!” You awkwardly let a laugh out. “I heard Lock–Anthony say your name.” 

“You remembered. We’ll remember the things you’re told…sorry.” You hadn’t taken offense to his wince though. Instead, you asked. 

“I suppose there’s a last name to go with George?” You muster a timid laugh. Your best attempt to lighten the mood. You weren’t fond of the tension in the air. It made you feel out of place.

“Karim.” He tells you. “George Karim.” 

“It’s a beautiful name.” You tilt your head. A lopsided grin plastered on your face. George’s eyes narrow slightly, he had a hard time grasping that you were gone, but you're right here in front of him. 

“You’ve said that before…” George’s shoulders fall. It wasn’t meant to change the mood of the conversation, more of a nostalgia for memories. He offers a gentle smile, one that brings you warmth. Warmth and trust you can find within a friend.  

“I suppose I was one for handing out compliments then?” You breathe out a laugh. 

“Not just compliments. It wouldn’t be fun without your jokes. Though you’re particularly known for your insults as well.” George smirked seeing your eyes widen. 

“Insults? Oh, that doesn’t sound like me. All in good fun I hope?” Your eyes widened in hope.

“All in good fun.” He promises with a nod. 

You accept the reassurance. Taking another bite of the sandwich. Chewing on the piece of bread. The awkward wave once again filled the air. You glanced over your shoulder. Hoping to see his face reappear once more. He was rather easy on the eyes, a vision. 

George, having picked up on your uneasiness, offered his reassurance. “They’ll be back. It hasn’t been easy for Lockwood. Much less Lucy. Though he’s been taking it far worse than us…as you can imagine already.” He implied towards the burst of anger Anthony unleashed. You look up at him. Your eyes held hope in them. The glisten in them made George want to reach out and hold you. You were holding onto his word. Hating the feeling of being seen so small and vulnerable with how you curled yourself into your tray of lunch. Adding to your sense of unfamiliarity with your new, but rather old friends. You truly felt lost with no direction. 

Lucy had chuckled and followed behind Lockwood. Walking back towards where you and George sat. Once back in the refectory, she met eyes with George first and then with yours as your head turned swiftly. Anthony stopped alongside her, shortly allowing the situation to sink in fully, you were awake, you were okay, he hadn’t entirely lost you and you were staring right back at him. Those beautiful eyes he saw turn white were back to their original color. He offered a smile in hopes of easing your worry, it had as the corners of your lips reciprocated his own. God, you were a breath of fresh air. He knew one thing though, that they had to get some answers.

-

When you reached the third floor, you weren’t quite sure what to expect. Nurses' eyes stared at you like you were a historical exhibit. A new gallery to gawk and stare at. You were the talk of the hospital. You shrink under their whispers and stares. Lockwood sees you trying to make yourself invisible and failing to do so. It brings you comfort when he calls them out on it. 

“Don’t you have patients to attend to? Nothing to see here!” He guides you into the room he didn’t find you in.

As you entered a man with white hair, a tall frame, and black-rimmed glasses stood at the end of your bed. A chart in his hands. A sheet lifted into the air as he read something off the bottom one underneath it. Lockwood cleared his throat, which gathered his attention. When he snapped his head to the door where you all stood in front of. He double-takes. Not expecting to find you standing amongst them…even more so awake.

“Bloody hell…They weren’t kidding.” You wrapped your arms around you as he made a cross on his chest. “Hello, Y/n. I’m Dr. Trainor. You have become quite famous today missy.” He tries to lighten the mood with a laugh, but it only makes you more aware of the attention you’re gaining. 

“Famous?” You raise a brow in question. Dr. Trainor chuckled at your confusion, thinking you were messing with him. 

“Why yes, it’s not every day one comes out of a ghost-locked state.” Everyone winces, except you, when he says this. Lockwood steps forward pushing you behind him. He didn’t want Dr. Trainor to further confuse you. You already questioned him about what sort of research you did. It was enough to clarify that you did not have any memory of being an agent. Let alone about the epidemic that broke out a few years ago. Hell, you hardly knew who the hell you were, and that scared him. You were more vulnerable now than you had ever been, all because you sacrificed yourself for him. How would he ever repay you for that? 

“Dr. Trainor, there's something you need to know.” Lockwood steps forward. 

“Yes?” He averts his attention to him now, but you manage to ask the question lingering on your mind.

 “What’s ghost locked?” 

Everyone turns to you. Dr. Trainor finds the question humorous, but as he turns to look at the others. He finds that no one else is laughing along with him. Anthony meets his eyes, immediately shaking his head with a stoic expression. Dr. Trainor's face falls flat. Then snaps his head to you. Your genuine curiosity and innocent nature were by no means a prank. You were serious.

“Oh…” Dread paints his face. He sighs heavily. “Oh, you poor child.” 

“We believe she has amnesia. How much she’s forgotten, we don’t know.”

“Amnesia…” Dr. Trainor breathes out. 

“Can you help her?” Lockwood asks with a plea. 

“Mr. Lockwood amnesia isn’t something you can just fix.” He laughs lightly. “How much has she forgotten?” He looks to the others, then to you. He guides you to the side of your bed. “Dear, is there anything that you can remember?” You look to your friends, who’ve managed to give you some of yourself back. “I’m Y/n Y/L/N. My favorite color is green?” You look at Lucy, she urges you to continue with a smile. “I’m a…swifter?” You raise your brow with uncertainty. 

“Good god.” Anthony curses under his breath. He closes his eyes and runs a hand down his face. He’s so close to ripping strands of hair from his skull.

“She means swiftie. She’s a big fan of the singer.” Lucy steps in to clarify the doctor's vivid confusion. “She’s forgotten everything I’m afraid. Her identity. Being an agent. She’s unfamiliar with everything that has to do with being an agent. No recollection of the epidemic that broke out either.” Lucy inquires. “I found her and she didn’t know who she was, didn’t know who I was.” She gives you a sad smile. 

“I see…So everything you’ve recalled to me is information you’ve been told. Okay.” He unravels his stethoscope from his neck. “Any headaches, pain anywhere?” He turns to ask you. You shake your head no. 

“I feel fine.” You admit. 

“That’s a good sign.” 

“It is?” Lockwood questions. The doctor rolls his eyes. 

“Yes. It means we don’t have to worry about anything internally happening.” 

“Try mentally…” Lockwood mutters under his breath. Yet, Lucy and George give him a deadpan stare, whereas the doctor chooses to ignore his tasteless comment.

“So what does this mean for others that remain in ghost lock? Would you say that ghost lock is no longer terminal?” Lucy held such high hopes. This would mean a great deal for her. It would be a great deal to Norrie, who wouldn’t stay in ghost lock forever. She’d no longer have to be in that psychiatric ward they held her in for surveillance and observation. Dr. Trainor gestured to the knot on your neck, your eyes widened as you reached up to untie it.

“It’s hard to tell so soon, this does happen to be a very unique and uncommon occurrence. We’d have to look into this situation more to be able to determine if ghost lock no longer is terminal, but at the moment this is out of our hands as we have no information to help us fully understand what we’re dealing with.” He moves the stethoscope across your back stopping in various spots. “Deep breath in, exhale out.” You do this about 3 more times. The metal felt cold against your skin. “Breath in.” You inhale deeply. “Breath out for me now.” You exhale. Then continue to breathe as normal. Lucy comes around to help adjust the ties around the back of your neck securely again. Lockwood leans forward, hands gripping the edge of the bed. He tucks in his lips, eyes furrowed deep in thought. The doctor wraps the stethoscope around his neck. Now fetching a light to examine your eyes. 

“What of her memories?” Anthony spares you a glance. Watching the doctor have you follow his finger. “Will she get them back?” He looks up to Dr. Trainor. 

“Can you follow my finger?” You shift your gaze left then right, then up and down. He leans forward to take a closer look into your eyes, slowly reaching forward to pull at your top eyelid. You feel uneasy when his face contorts into that of curiosity and interest, “Huh?”

This makes Anthony straighten up. “What? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing quite alarming, but have your eyes always had a white ring around them?” Dr. Trainor knows the answer since he’s checked them for the past weeks now, so this was new to come across. 

“White ring?” You question. “I wouldn’t know…” You turn to look at your friends for answers. Anthony walks over to you.

“No.” Anthony confirms his question. He steps closer, silently asking if he can peer into them. Your nod of confirmation has him gently bringing his hands up to your face. His thumbs slowly push up your eyelids as the doctor provides the light. When he sees the white rings sitting around your eye shade his heart plummets slightly. “They were never there before. Should we worry?” He turns his attention to the doctor.

“It doesn’t appear to be affecting her sight, or mobility, so until they do become a cause for concern I’m writing it off as nothing to be worried about, but to keep in mind if it starts causing problems.”

“Is she allowed to be released tonight?” Lucy buts in.

Dr. Trainor gives you a once-over, contemplating. “I’d recommend she’d stay another night for observation…but her vitals have been fine. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wake up with your mobility and strength my dear. No headaches or pain?” He asks you once more.

“No.” You reassure. 

“Then I’ll allow you all to take her home, but if you sense any form of change in her health, you bring her to me. Understood?”

“We will.” George says.

“Alright then if there’s no further question, then dear you are free to go. I’ll go ahead and get your discharge paper.” You nod and thank him for everything, then watch him make his way to the door, but Anthony grabs ahold of his upper arm, pulling him to the side.

“And her memories?” Anthony emphasizes his need to know. Dr. Trainor sighs.

“I’d recommend to give it time. Don’t try to rush her to remember things. This is amnesia, not an exam. She doesn’t need to remember everything all at once.” He directs his raised brow at him with a warning not to push you. Lockwood only nods solemnly. The doctor turns his gaze to you and Lucy, laughing about something he wasn’t sure of. George gives them a tight lip smile as he brushes past them into the hall. Lucy helping you find your clothes. Dr. Trainor slowly moves the both of them out of the room and closes the door behind them. He walks them to the far end of the hall away from any possible listeners “I wouldn’t worry too much about her memories…”

“No?” Anthony scoffs.

“This is a very vulnerable situation you are dealing with Mr. Lockwood.” He looks down the hallway. “I’d keep a close eye on her if I were you. News is going to spread quickly about her awakening, and it won’t be pretty. Cherish the moments of peace while you still can. Though that isn’t much of a concern to me.”

“Oh no?”

“Her eyes. I’ve seen it once, in the papers. A child, much younger than she is. Tragic ending.”

“You said it wasn’t a cause for concern!” Anthony whispers and yells.

“I know. I’d still like you to keep an eye on her, if you feel the slightest change in her health…in her demeanor, don’t wait. That child’s parents were reluctant to accept acceptance and it ended with a funeral. Don’t wait.”

“Demeanor?” Anthony straightens up. “What– Why are you telling me this?”

“You never quite know who to trust…and if I were you, I'd also concern myself with how you’re going to explain to her how she can hear and see ghosts.” Lockwood felt a shiver run up and down his spine. He falters for a quick second because he’s right. He does have to concern himself with that, yet as far as he knows you’ll be on house calls for as long as he deems it necessary. He has to concern himself about telling you a lot of things, but for now, he settles with a tight-lipped smile. 

“Good day to you, Dr. Trainor.” He pats the man and turns around.

“Expect a check-in house call, Lockwood.” 

“We’ll call you!” He finished with a wave of his hand as he walked down the hall, where you wait for him now. 

“Ready?” He sighs.

“I think so. Is this all that was on my person?” You look down at your outfit and shoes. Your neck and fingers are decorated with simplistic jewelry, each one you wanted to ask about and what it meant to you, or if any were given to you. Anthony takes notice of the necklace that hasn’t been tucked into your shirt yet. The small A and ring that was your mothers sitting comfortably on top of your black shirt. You then lift the rapier with gauged eyes. “W-What is this?” You eye the weapon with uncertainty. Anthony pulls out of his daze and reacts quickly.

Anthony reaches forward and takes it from your hands. “Don’t know who gave you that!” A light panicked laugh reaches your ears.

“What is it though, is it mine?” Your innocence was killing him. “Are we in a sport? A-A team?” Your eyes brighten with curiosity.

Anthony curls in his eyes, deadpanning to Lucy and George. “Please tell me the cab is here?”

“Fencing! We fence!” You exclaim. 

“Oh thank god!” Anthony visibly moans at the sight of a black cab sitting patiently at the entrance. 

-

The whole ride home Anthony couldn’t contain the smile he tried to fight back. His fingers were over his mouth to hide it from the others, but even Lucy found it quite amusing as George practically pointed out various places. It was like your own practical tour, and you represented that of a kid whose mother granted them the pleasure of going to the candy store. You were quite the sight. Though he anticipated your reaction when the cab had stopped in front of their home, your home, the one you had no recollection of. He tracked your quiet exhales as he made the first exist. He stood at the door allowing everyone to leave, then held his hand out for you. You hesitated to take it, yet when your fingertips slid over his palm, well he just about lost his composure. 

Your eyes had yet to remove themselves from the door. Anthony’s smile lingered, watching your every move. 

“Welcome home.” 

“This is home?” You breathe a laugh of disbelief. 

“It’s not much but-”

“No…It’s perfect.” Your smile grows as you look over at him. Your attention turns away once more, and you find the plaque. “A.J Lockwood & Co. Investigators…after dark ring the bell and wait below from the line.” You immediately look down at the line that was placed before the stairs. “Why the line?”

“Uh I– S-Safety precaution, we never know who might come around. Better to be safe. Why don’t we head inside? I can give you the grand tour.” He offers, wanting to trail away from your curiosity. In time, he reminds himself. He visibly relaxes knowing you’d be safer inside, knowing the curfew was about to be set in stone soon. Nightfall was emerging. 

Your eyes wander after he offers to take your coat. The space bringing you a sense of warmth. The house looked lived in, what a home should represent. You walked further down the entryway, your footing colliding with boots. Anthony swivled around hearing you laugh. 

Your laugh, such a contagious melodious sound. Oh, how he missed it. His heart soars. It’s always been something his heart reacts to. He’d thought the worst of the visit, thinking he’d see you in your coma-like state, he never assumed that the day would lead to you being here with them again. In your shared home, awake, laughing at various items that needed to be put away. Your laugh was so innocent, making it all the more precious to him. He didn’t want to look away, but he did anyway. “Let’s start in here.” He gestured to the living area. 

"Out of all the rooms in this house, you start with the least interesting one." George's voice rings out as he and Lucy enter the living area too. "I think she'd find the bas-"

Anthony met his gaze, immediately shaking his head no at him. "That's enough, George." He cuts in firmly, but not angrily. He didn't want to scare you. His gaze lingers on George before turning back to you. "Plenty of rooms to go by, but I think one at a time will suffice for now. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm you." He mustered a smile.

“I think one at a time is fine, but I would like to at least know where I’ll be able to sleep.” You laughed halfheartedly.

“Are you tired? I’m sorry I wasn’t considering ho-” You reached forward to stop his rambling. 

“I’m not tired, promise. Just curious.” 

He was relieved that you weren’t tired, at least not as much as you could be. Your presence alone seemed to have brightened everything in front of them. Things felt as though they’d turn bright side up quickly. He couldn’t have been happier than in this moment. “Well, we shouldn’t waste any more time, the tour awaits. Lucy will be able to show you your room later as you share it with her.” You looked over to Lucy and nodded. 

“We share a room?”

“It was originally yours alone, but I came after and we made it work. I promise you I don’t snore.”

“Oh okay.” You laughed. 

Anthony chuckled at the thought, finding your amusement contagious, but he knew it wouldn’t take much more than a glance to make him join you in your lightheartedness. He took a breath, steadying himself. There was no need. Your smiles were so infectious it was like there was never anything to feel stressed about in the first place. 

“Let’s continue. Now if we go back through this door straight ahead we will find my personal favorite…the kitchen.” Anthony winked at you. “Are you hungry because George just so happens to be a great co-” You all stopped and turned toward the front door as the doorbell went off. Everyone stiffened and held their breaths. 

“Who’d show up now…curfew just started.” Lucy questions.

“No one good…” Lockwood keeps you all behind him as he makes his way over.

“There’s a curfew?” Your brows furrowed. 

“Well talk about it later Y/n…” He muttered softly to you before he opened the door. “Inspector Barnes?"

“She here?” He looked past his shoulder and stilled when he met your confused gaze. 

“We haven’t broken any guidelines…” He tried to keep him from entering, but he saw you. The one thing he didn’t want happening. 

“I'm aware, good on you…that’s not why I’m here.” Barnes entered slowly walking over to you with his hands raised. Though Anthony walked over to you and stood before you, in Barnes's path. “Hello again Miss Y/L/N it’s good to see back to your old self again.” Your mouth widened as you turned to look at Anthony, Lucy, and George for answers.

“Y/n, go upstairs,” Anthony orders blocking you from the man who arrived. 

“Upstairs? Oh did I do some-”

“No, you didn’t do anything. I just need you to go upstairs for a second please.” Anthony kept staring at Barnes. He shifted his gaze over his shoulder to where you hadn’t moved. “P-Please.” With uneasiness, you finally nod and make your way up the steps slowly, casting a glance back at them. Your gaze not leaving the stranger who entered your home.

“What roo-”

“When you make it to the first landing keep climbing the staircase up, there will be a door, that’s your and Lucy’s room.” He instructed softly. 

“O-Okay.” You nodded and kept making your way up the steps.

A few beats passed before he closed his eyes at the shut of the door upstairs. His anger takes over his body once more.

“She doesn’t recognize me…” Barnes's surprise drawing out. He points to the stairs.

“I see your vision works.” Anthony gives him a tightlipped smile. 

“Amnesia?”

“What are you doing here? If you wanted to visit a phone call would’ve done nicely.”

“Lockwood-” George could feel the tension begin to disrupt the nostalgia and peace they were swimming in earlier. 

“I’m here to ask Y/n a few questions.”

“She’s not taking any visitors at the moment, maybe ever, sorry. Doors over there.” Lockwood gestures behind him. 

“DEPRAC would like to get an understanding of her situation–”

“She has barely been home for a few minutes!”

“I understand but if we could get a few words with her or anything out of the three of you then we-”

-

You had made it to the room Anthony said was yours. You slide down against the closed door, legs sprawled out in front of you, as you try to calm your breathing. The arguing voices downstairs do nothing to provide you comfort. You stare off into the space of the room blankly. Your eyes unfocus and refocus on different objects and trinkets that lay around. 

“You can't just come into our home unannounced and-“ You hear Anthony exclaim angrily.

You close your eyes, letting your head thud against the wood. Why was yelling constantly involved when you were the center of a conversation? Were you problematic that it made your friends feud? You craved peace and clarity when in reality chaos and confusion embraced you. You glance down around and spot a small device on a nightstand. You're reminded of Lucy informing you of your love for Taylor Swift and can’t help but wonder if the mp3 player is yours. You get up and go over, slowly retrieving and bringing it to life.

As you scroll and insert the earbuds into your ears. The artist playing in your ears doesn’t satisfy your innermost thoughts. Your pain. The song you’re listening to, the one said to be your favorite, is very upbeat. Hardly the type of vibe you’re looking for. You read off each artist and song title. Every song is unfamiliar to you. Music you don’t recall liking or loving. The trio had done a wonderful job emphasizing that you couldn’t live without the mp3 player you hold in your hands on the way home. The device doesn’t create a sense of security. None of the songs feel melodious or relatable. You're a stranger to your music taste. 

Your brows furrow, a frown evident in your saddened features. Your breath shudders as another loud yell echoes faintly through the door. You flinch, hoping that if you close your eyes they will stop, at least for your sake. You can’t take the shouting for much longer though. You glance down and press on a song that catches your eye. Settling on one, instead of nothing was better. You don’t think too much of it, but you're thankful that a soft sad instrumental beat starts to fill your ears. The silence of the bedroom no longer. You let the device slide out of your hand and onto the floor. You don’t hear the clatter, you don’t hear the yelling. You rest your head back against the door again, letting the music drown out every sound, every burst of anger being heard downstairs. You let the music consume you, taking advantage of the comfort it provides because, at this moment, it’s the only real thing that can help you make sense of the world again. 

-

Anthony sets out to check up on you after making Barnes leave and call him back when they think it’s best for you. His heart clenched with each step he took upstairs. He gripped onto the railing, his knuckles turning white, making his way up to your and Lucy’s shared bedroom. He thought of every worst-case scenario as to why you wouldn’t have come back down. Where dread hovered, worry loomed over tons of times worse. It's all he’s been feeling really. 

Worry and concern over your well-being. The swelling in his heart was further amplified by having you back at the apartment…one you held no recollection of. Another reason to add to the list of things that would surely keep him awake all night. He only hoped as much as Lucy and George had that you’d gain your memories back. That you would remember the best times and the worst times of your lives together. The laughs you’ve all shared and the way you’ve all let your walls down around each other have allowed to see glimpses of each other's vulnerable sides.

When the raps on the door weren’t acknowledged he stepped in and climbed up to the landing of the room. The room had some life brought back into it as his eyes roamed. Your fairy lights were plugged in once again, as well as your mushroom night light. The shadows of it cast circles onto the ceiling. He teased you about it once, and you went on a rant about how having them light off your ceiling was cute, aesthetically pleasing as you put it. He couldn’t judge your preferences though, not when they brought you comfort.  You had looked around a little, he could tell, since things were shifted or moved by you.

His smile vanished as his eyes fell on your form. In hopes that he’d find you okay was wishful thinking. Not when your face was dipped between your arms placed over the top of your knees. You weren’t even aware that he had entered. From the loud echo of music coming from your earbuds, he didn’t doubt that you were blaring the music as loud as it could go. How your eardrums didn’t burst, he hadn’t known. He approached you slowly. Kneeling down and lightly running his hand over your kneecap. He was cautious about not wanting to startle you, but the flinch you gave, and gasp you emitted had him falling on his ass. His heart only broke further seeing the redness from your eyes. Blood vessels form around your irises. Your eyes were puffy. You tried your best to act like you were fine, wiping under your nose as you sniffled, but once your eyes met his. Another tear fell past your waterline. 

He was so accustomed to wiping your tears that it became a habit. His arm moved on its own accord before he fully registered that he had slid closer to touch you. He reached up to rid your cheek of the tear stain gently. You showed no signs of discomfort, inviting the lingering caress of his thumb. He smiled faintly feeling- seeing you subconsciously lean into his palm. He rubbed against your skin for a few minutes then let his hand fall back down to his side. He scooted over to one side of you, crisscrossing his legs. He let out a sigh as his back felt the hard cold metal frame. His eyes landed on small objects or loose pieces of clothing thrown around the room.

A coping mechanism he picked up during your absent days from the apartment. Still hospitalized and ghost-locked. It made him want to tear up as he was reminded of the days he longed to see you conscious and sitting beside him. Just as you were now. He inched his pinky to brush against yours. You made no act to shift away, unknowingly to that as you wrapped yours around his, you’d done so many times. Anthony breathed out a shaky laugh as you tightened your pinky around his own. His eyes lifted to yours, finding you already waiting for him to look up at you. He let a tear fall past his cheek as a chorus of deja vu flooded his mind. He was all too familiar with where he sat, in this exact spot.

Funny enough, Anthony found himself in this very spot for weeks. Sat up against the foot of your bed frame. Trying to find comfort in the disarray of your belongings. Hoping to hear your laugh within the vacant chair at your desk, or even a soft cry as his fingers glided over one of your favorite books coated with tear stains. He wanted- hoped to find you here in the mess. Each time he’d turn his head to the right of him, he hoped to find you there next to him, smiling at him, but it always ended the same way. Having his eyes burn holes into the wall he was met with instead of you each night. 

Yet even now, as your eyes locked and the corner of your lips curled upward. He believed this all to be a dream. Too scared to look away because he felt once he did, he’d turn back to find you gone. That you’d evaporate into thin air as he’d try to grasp at you. But you were right here, in his reach, in his grasp. Right beside him…you were home again.

“I see you settled yourself in. Find anything you like on it?” He gestured to the device to your right. You take out your right earbud and let it dangle. You lift the device and swirl the circle around to lower the volume. 

“No.” You meet his gaze as you chew your bottom lip. Your eyes cast onto his shoes to distract your nerves from building up. “I think it's only left me with more questions about myself, rather than answers.”

Anthony’s heart tears down right in the middle as you remove the other earbud and slowly hand over the mp3 player. He’s left confused not knowing what to make of this. 

“As silly as it may sound…It doesn’t feel right to take it, feels as though I’ve stolen it from her- or rather, me?” You shake your head. “My former self?” You look away from his lap. Picking and pulling at loose threads from a sweater you hardly recognize as your own. “The music that she- that I listened to…Nothing feels familiar.” You breathe out shakingly. 

“You say it like…like you’re dead.” His chest falls and rises slowly, but it's threatening to increase in pace. “But you’re not, Y/n. You’re still here.” 

“What if I am though? The old me you all miss. What if she’s gone for good and you can’t get her back? What if I can’t remember? What if we can’t-“ Anthony reached forward to hold your shoulders as you began to hyperventilate. 

“I wouldn’t think so negative just yet. You’ve only just gotten discharged, we’ve barely brought you home… ” He breathes a smile. “The doctor said this could take, and that this isn’t something that should be rushed. Though as much as I do miss our inner jokes.” He beams with a solemn gaze. “I’m willing to wait. However long it takes, even if it means months till- till you come back to us. It’ll be worth the wait.” He unravels your joined pinkies and interlaces his hand with yours instead. You glance down, and a spread of warmth and hope entices you. Yet there’s still that lingering dread and fear casting a shadow. 

“And what if…What if I can’t remember anything?” Your eyes tear up. Your mouth is slightly agape as you breathe through your mouth. “What if all the memories we’ve all made don’t come back?” 

“Then we’ll recreate them again. Memories as wonderful and as painful as the ones we’ve shared. I’ll make sure you get your life back the way it was before, as we were before, even if that means starting from the beginning.” 

“You’d do that for me?” You laugh lightly as tears fall down your cheeks. He reached up and wiped them away. You didn’t even know half of what he was willing to do for you. 

“You don’t even know that majority of it.” He gave you a steady nod. You squeezed your eyes, floored with joy and a mixture of sadness combined. You were overwhelmed. You opened your eyes back up expecting to meet Anthony’s charming grin. Yet the loud gasp you released had startled him. You were met with a void of darkness in his place instead. 

“Y/n?” Anthony shifts to sit up.

You had tried to squeeze his hand. As you sunk into the back of your mind, but you found yourself incapable of moving. You tried to scream for him but your mouth felt glued shut. Your body was stiff as a board as your eyes stared past Anthony’s form.

If you could have seen his face. Fear stricken, his eyes widened as he sat up on his knees, vividly shaking you and pressing light taps to your cheeks. Dread and confusion glossed over his eyes seeing a white milky glaze form over your y/e/c eyes again. 

“Y/n? Hey, no, no. Y/n, can you hear me?” He gripped your face. Shouting at you as your body locked itself out of nowhere. You were fine. You were fine just a second ago. You only closed your eyes for a second, and then this happened. He was panicking. The confident esteemed leader of Lockwood & Co was nowhere to be found. A scared boy feeling helpless and vulnerable as he screamed for the girl he held feelings for took his place. “L-Lucy!” His voice cracked as he pressed your face into the crook of his neck. His body shook as tears fell harshly down his face. He didn’t know what to do. “Lucy!” He cried. He pulled your face back. His hands caressed your face, hoping it would bring you back from whatever supernatural occurrence this was. “G-George!”

[websterss]

MIDNIGHT TALKS — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

REQUEST: Hi! I’m not sure if you are taking requests right now but if so could I request one? I’d love a Lockwood X reader where they both get up in the middle of the night because they can’t sleep and then they talk in the library until reader falls asleep 🤍

WARNING(S): Angsty midnight confessions, mentions of dead parents, some fluff to even out the pain.

WORD COUNT: 2,384

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! <3 Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You had ultimately lost count on how many times you tossed and turned in your bed. Your arms plopped down at your sides over the covers. Sleep did not overcome you so easily. The current events of almost getting ghost locked invaded your want for a night's worth of sleep. One look over at Lucy sound asleep on the bed adjacent to yours was enough to convince you that you would fail to find peace like her. With the urge for a glazed donut and hot cup of tea, you put on your slippers and descended the staircase to retrieve them. 

Almost being ghost locked can certainly be a traumatic experience. Flo having mentioned before that she had known her fair share of kid agents that were ruined from type ones, but mostly type twos. That their mental stability hardly ever came back after the things most of them went through. You shiver at the thought. Though you knew the type of life you were a part of. Your parents, similarly to Lucy’s mother, had pushed you to use your talents, help provide for the family when your father was without a job. Such pressure at such a young age was hard to live up to. The weight of whether your family ate or still had a roof over their heads, rested on your shoulders heavily. You had pulled back one year though. Refusing to submit to your supervisor's wishes. The result of your defiance followed you home one night. Another agent having pocketed the small source in your long coat pocket. The small medallion would stay as a constant reminder of your naivety. Your stupidity for ever thinking you could turn off your skills like a switch. Heavy weighs the heart.

You liked to think it was out of pettiness or simply their way of a cruel joke. It wasn’t funny in the slightest bit. Defying your talents, lessened the chances of your parents being alive today. You watched them die in front of you, the source found too late. They were gone before you could compose yourself to dial DEPRAC. You knew the life you lived, and you knew this life resulted in casualties here and there. You shake yourself out of the thoughts you try your best to bury, but from time to time, you slip up, and the horrid memories weigh on you. You bit into the donut you nurtured. Letting it hang in your mouth as you grabbed the plate with three donuts on it, and your favorite green mug. You push the door open with your foot. The door never really shuts properly. Then walk out, the library set in stone for you.

You pushed the door to the library open with your foot. The mug and plate occupying your hands, The extra bite you held in your mouth muffling the yelp you let out as you came face to face with Anthony. His surprise was written across his face as he looked up from his magazine. You were not expecting him to be here, but then again you should’ve because this was his prime time to be fully awake. You froze in the doorway, looking around the room then back to him. Unsure of yourself, not knowing whether to return back to your room or join him. 

“Evening.” He turned his wrist. The small arrow hovering over the time of twelve. “Well morning, really.” He gave his signature smile. “Seems we’ve had similar ideas.” He gestured to your plate and mug, then to his own half empty mug. You nodded. Shifting from foot to foot. Then with a very muffled.

“Donut?” Anthony laughed, nodding in acceptance of your offering. You cross the floor and sit in the maroon chair opposite of his brown one. The plate placed between you both to grab and choose as you pleased though you already had your eyes on the plain sugar glazed donut earlier. You finished the bite in a quite unmannered way. Then reached forward at the same time Anthony went to grab one. You playfully slapped away his hand that reached for your claimed prize. “No.” You eyed him warningly.

“No?” He chuckled. “You want the glazed one?” He eyed the golden brown one. His mouth tugging into an amused smile. “What if I want it?”

“Then you better count your blessings because I called dibs on it in the kitchen.” You laughed to let him know you meant well, but you really didn’t. It was yours, and you wanted to eat it. “It’s mine, Lockwood.”

“Very well then.” He surrendered. Then settled back into his chair. Eyes casting over to you as you stare longingly at the fireplace, he stifles his laughter watching you munch down on your donut. He’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t slightly curious why you were awake, but if this last case was anything to go off by, then he fully understood why you accompanied him in the library. Perhaps you didn’t expect him to be here, perhaps you did, but you gladly took the seat next to him. He hummed. Curious talents you possess apart from sight, and listening, he often wondered what else occupied your mind heavily. You were a closed book to him, whereas you openly turned pages upon pages about him. He wanted more than anything to read your pages. Find the breaking point in your hard exterior. He’s hardly ever seen you cry.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” His question pulls you back. You hummed in question, though heard him clearly. Responding to him instantly.

“No. Sleep has been hard to come by as of late.” You raised your brows playfully. The half smile on your face falling. “I keep seeing the visitor’s face…” You gesture to the space in front of you. “She grows closer and closer and before she can touch me I wake. It’s the same recurring nightmare. I don’t understand why my mind can’t move past that night?” Your eyes fell onto Lockwood’s attentive expression. His eyes softened and the London Times magazine disregarded. His attention was solely on you, giving you his time.

He nodded before conjuring up what to say. “You almost died. It’s not something one easily gets over. We almost lost you…” I almost lost you, he thinks. He sighs, his mouth morphing into a half smile. “We’re your team. We look out for each other, yet we almost lost you.”

“I was compromised…” You shook your head. Shifting the guilt onto yourself. “You specifically told me not to wander off alone, and I did. I put the team at risk.”

“We all were reckless that night.” The corner of his lips lifted. “If anything we all share faults.” You only hum at his response. No longer furthering the length of the conversation. You avert your gaze, fiddling with the mood ring Lucy gifted you during one of your shopping trips. The lime green color, symbolizing that you were calm. Your body temperature was calibrated at around eighty degrees Fahrenheit. The common surface temperature of a typical person though any drop in your body temperature would change its color to purple. You felt like the color did not properly display the hurricane that was swirling inside your mind. You were anything but calm. You were a wreck, far from the false narrative of the lime green color on the two hearts that rest on your middle finger. 

“What’s on your mind?” You snap your head up to meet his brown eyes. 

“What makes you think-” You hadn’t expected him to see through your false composed state. He only proceeds to point to the bridge of his own nose. 

“You’re scrunching your nose.” Your shoulders fall. His attentive observation makes your stomach flutter. The corner of his lips widened, as did yours faintly. “You only do that when something’s troubling you. Which I will now ask you again…What’s wrong?” You met his eyes for a split second, then back down to your ring. You inhale deeply, trying to calm yourself and your emotions before you let yourself become vulnerable in front of Lockwood.

“D-Do you ever think about your parents?” The question catches him off guard. He sits up, then clears his throat.

“They cross my mind once or twice on certain days, but I tend to not dwell on them much. Why do you ask?” His brows furrow.

“No reason…” You let out a timid laugh. You want to take back your question. Regretting letting your walls come down, but you’ve already asked him and he’s become rather intrigued now, so you need to keep going. “It’s just- When you’re on the brink of death. You start to think about things, everything that’s led up to the moment you’re in now. The memories that haunt you daily…The guilt.” You shudder out a breath of air. You twist your body to face him. “I thought of my parents that day. I still am, honestly. They’re partially the reason why I’m scared to close my eyes.” You laugh to try and lighten the mood, but it hardly comforts Lockwood. His eyes watch you closely. He couldn’t believe you were slowly opening yourself up to him. Apart from what you settled on telling him, he felt like he was starting to see the real you. The you that you chose to bottle up. “As strict as they were, and when they were forcing me to become a Fittes agent. I miss them dearly.” You tear up. “They had their moments, but I feel like I never truly got to make amends with them.”

“T-They forced you?” Lockwood’s heart sank. 

“I never intended on becoming an agent.” The laugh you emit unsettles him. It breaks him. “Not really. It was their idea. To help provide and keep a roof over their heads.” You shake your head.

“Y/n-“

“I was never given a choice.” A tear falls down your cheek, and it takes everything in him not to reach forward and wipe it away. “I wanted to be normal and go to school, but after a while I accepted it. That I couldn’t run from this life…” You trail off. Silence falls intensely between you two. Then his chest really feels like it starts to cave in on itself. “You know I’m the reason they’re dead.” You scoff. “I don’t believe George has told you, I suppose he felt it wasn’t his place to, but back when I was with Fittes, this bastard decided to plant the source we collected in my coat pocket.”

“Y/n you don’t have to-“ Lockwood closed his eyes. 

“Obviously without knowing, I brought it home with me.” You spin the ring on your finger. “I woke up to my parents screaming. I couldn’t save them and when I finally did manage to locate the source…they were gone.” You sniffle. “I carry that burden with me everywhere I go.”

“W-Why are you telling me this?” He shakes out.

“As fucked up as my life’s story is. I trust you.” You glance up slowly to meet his eyes. You offer a reassuring smile. “I needed someone to talk to…and on occasion you redeem yourself as a decent listener.” You tease him. You reach up to wipe your eyes.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” He scoffs, but lets his smile grow hearing your melodious laugh fall in and out his ears. Music to his ears. “I’m sorry about your parents, Y/n. No one should have to ever go through such pain.” You nodded, placing your hand in his offered one. Your fingertips slide across his palm, wanting the touch of him to linger. Very softly you tell him.

“I’m sorry about your parents, Anthony.” You grip his hands. He looks away from your intertwined hands, to the visible tiredness growing within your eyes. They flutter, but you blink the sleep away, wanting to stay awake, but he knows you’re not far from it overtaking you completely. 

“You don’t have to apologize…” He breathes out. “It was a very long time ago.” He watches you give a faint nod. The sound of his voice somehow lures you in a sleepy trance. He continues to talk. “I’m sorry your parents forced you into this life, you should have been given the choice.” He lets his thumb rub over the top of your hand. 

“S’okay…” You recline into the chair. “I got to meet you in the end…” You breathe out. His heart skips. Overruled with relief and joy. This was incredibly like you. To see the best out of the worst case scenarios. Meeting him was the best thing to happen out of becoming an agent, you’ve just said that. That was something he would not be able to look past. To let go. He continued on, now filled with emotions he can’t continue to bottle up.

“R-Regardless of your upbringing as an agent. I can assure you that you are one of the best I have had the privilege to meet. You Y/n Y/L/N are truly one of a kind and I believe that despite every bad thing that has happened to you, you were meant to end up here, with us. George and Lucy…me.” He reciprocates the light smile on your lips. Your head falling to the side, but you still clung onto his words. “Lockwood & Co is lucky to have you, Y/n. I’m so lucky to have met someone as incredible and amazing as you…” He lets his hand go still against yours. Your head finally settles on your shoulder. You breathe in and out, your chest rising and falling slowly. Sleep finally welcomed you. “I just want to say…” He hesitates. “That I’m glad to have met you too. If I hadn’t I would have never gotten something amazing out of our friendship. I wouldn’t have been able to let myself fall in love with you, and it’s been the best thing I have ever done.” He gets off his chair, leaning down to press a kiss against your temple. He grabs the blanket thrown over the back of his chair and drapes it gently over you. He relaxes seeing you finally get the sleep you craved. “Sweet dreams, Y/n.”

[websterss]

A TASTE OF NORMACY — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

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

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

WORD COUNT: 6,358

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it love! I hope you like the direction I took this. Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were you even aware of the curfew? 

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

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

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

“Seriously?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Afraid not. Sorry.”

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

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

“Anthony. Anthony Lockwood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If I didn’t know any better-”

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

“I’d say you fancy her?”

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

“So do you have feelings-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You said you hid them in the cupboard?”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

He opens his mouth to speak, but he struggles.

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” His grin widens.

“Yeah!” You breathe out a laugh.

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

“When?” You beam.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ve just missed her.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“I'm surprised you haven’t.”

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

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

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

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

“Bruises you say?” Anthony stiffens. 

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You shrug.

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

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

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

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

“You really don’t know?”

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

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

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

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

“Why me what?” You huff out annoyed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll tell me things won’t you?”

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

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

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

[websterss]

THE STRAY FROM ARIF'S  — ANTHONY LOCKWOOD

SUMMARY: You have a hard time listening to Lockwood, especially when he tells you not to do things. It only makes you want to do them more...like bringing a stray home.

WARNING(S): fluff

WORD COUNT: 1,480

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You hadn’t planned on bringing him home when you saw his cute little eyes glance up at you. You had a leftover doughnut in your bag that you pulled out and fed to the poor thing. Knowing it must’ve been days since it had eaten properly. You kept watching your six, looking for the tall brunette who repeatedly told you to stay far away from the creature before you. There was Mrs. Wick to consider though, when she took in a stray cat that took shelter in her home. She often called about some form of screaming in her attic, but after you had checked it out with Lockwood once, it only appeared to be a cat. A harmless one at that, which she adopted. Now you were sitting in the kitchen feeling like a little kid hiding a big secret, and you didn’t exactly feel like getting scolded by your parents. Well, rather Lockwood in this case.

“What’s with the eye exchanging? What aren’t you telling me?” He gazed back and forth between the three of you. Then his eyes fell upon your figure trying to hide itself by sliding down your chair. “Y/n...” He eyed you warningly.

“R-Remember that dog. The one that loiters behind the dumpster of Arif’s?” You grimace seeing his eyebrows almost touch together. His eyes closing, not wanting the next predictable words to escape past your lips. He pinches the bridge of his nose, slouching back in his chair.

“The stray...” He sighs, then sits up straight. His hands gestured towards you as he said. “…I tell you not to feed because it will follow you home?” He didn’t even need you to verbally say it. The cheesed smile you cast at him causes his face to fall onto the tabletop. The loud thud causes George and Lucy to stifle out a laugh. You wince as he lets out a disgruntled groan. “Don’t tell me. Please don’t say it...”

“It followed-” You begin.

“It followed you home, wonderful!” He lifts his head back up. “You specifically did that one thing- one thing I tell you not to.” He chews on his bottom lip contemplating his own death or rather yours. His left eye twitched. You shrink in your chair scared he’d reach across and strangle you.

“It was hungry!” You turn your palms face up. You shrug in your defense. 

“It’s a stray, Y/n. Of course it’s hungry. It lives on the street!” He emphasized.

“Not anymore!” You boast, sticking a finger in his face. You rise from your seat. 

“What?!” 

“What?” You looked around to the others. “Did you hear something Lucy?” You scratch the back of your head. Avoiding his perplexed expression.

“Come again...” He scoffs out a laugh. You hum, chewing on your bottom lip as you face him confused. “You just said-”

“I have said nothing. You’re delusional. Are you feeling okay? Wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning?” You reach across the table to touch his forehead. “You are a little warm-” You barely touch his skin before he smacks your hand away. You flinch away trying to stifle your laughter. 

“- that it no longer lives on the street. Implying that it’s no longer on the street.” Dread washes over his face. He slowly stands to his full height. “You haven’t. You didn’t...” Your eyes widened, trying to look at Lucy and George, who did not appear to have your back at this very moment. You cursed.

“Shit...”

“You brought it home didn’t you? Where is it?” He starts letting his eyes wander across the room. He moves around towards the door only to have you block it. 

“Where’s what?” You shrug.

“I told you there was to be no animals in this house. They’re messy, and loud, and you have to clean up after them. This is a business, hardly a place for a dog!” He listed off. 

“Then there’s the door.” You smile at him. You hold back your laughter watching him gape at you, offended. “I’m sorry.” You chuckle, hand over your mouth. 

He pushes past you. His coat that he had on swaying with his movement. 

“Where is it?” He repeats, looking through all the rooms, under furniture, and throws back throw blankets. You don’t follow him as he walks up the stairs onto the second landing. When he descends, he catches you standing in front of the kitchen door. There was only one place that he had yet to check. Your pleading look gives him the answer that he needs. He pushes past you, as you begin to pull against his arms.

“No, no. Anthony please. Please, he’s been well behaved. Hardly a peep from him. I-I taught him to sit!” You revel in your success, but your smile falls as he scoffs.

“Did you teach him how to pay the gas bill? Perhaps the phone bill too? No? Thought so!” He throws open the basement’s door and walks down the steps with a hurried pace. As soon as his feet touch the floor, a loud bark is immediately heard. The poor dog is tied up. Though the wag of its tail displays his excitement. You run over to it, scratching its fur behind its ears. You chuckle as it licks a stripe on the side of your face. 

Lockwood stands there, hands at his hips. “No, no, no-” He begins.

“You haven’t even given it a chance.”

“I don’t need to give it a chance. My answer is still no. We can’t afford a dog, Y/n. We barely make enough to cover the expenses. We can’t keep him.” He reminds you. Your heart sinks, but he was indeed correct. The jobs you received were enough to keep the roof over your heads, but to add on additional fees for a dog. There’d be other things to pay for, to be cautious of. You four were hardly ever home to begin with. “He can’t stay.” He walks over and crouches down to pet him. He smiles nonetheless as the dog licks his hands. “You’re cute...but you must go. We don’t have the room for a fury friend.” He coos at it. You look at him through your eyelashes. Your doe eyes relaxed and softened, as you cast a faint knowing smile his way. Lockwood catches you, and starts shaking his head. “No. Do not give me that look.”

“What look? There’s no look.” You deny with a coy smile.

“Yes. There is. You’re doing it right now, and it’s not going to work this time.” He side eyed you.

“It’s worked before.”

“Because I allowed you to have that leverage over me. This time is different. There’s a living breathing animal involved.”

“You’re gonna cave.” You say confidently.

“No, I’m not.” He turns his head to meet your eyes.

“Yes, you are...” You lean in and capture his lips with your own. You pull back, tugging his tie slowly, knowing he’d chase after them to get in another kiss.

-

He really hated the power you held over him. One plea, beg, need, want, he was on his knees ready to give you the entire world. You were Lockwood’s entire world. He just didn’t think that your whole world was the mangy mutt that was disrupting his blissful sleep. Lockwood had made him take the blanket you had laid out for him on the floor, but after you had bathed him and brushed his fur. He had wiggled his way between your bodies. Now Lockwood was left staring at the mutts head lulled back onto your pillows, snoring. 

He didn’t even know dogs could snore. Yet as he casted his eyes onto your sleeping form. He couldn’t help but accept his faith. He moved the dog, slowly to the foot of the bed. Then slid towards the middle, pulling you into his arms. You sighed as you relaxed against his touch. Still sound asleep. The whine of the dog, had him lifting his head to look at him. 

“What?” He asked it, as if he was going to respond back. “Your beds down there...” He gestured with his head. “No...What is it? You need to be let out?” The dog was up in an instant. Anthony let his head fall back onto his pillow. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes before getting up, slipping on his slippers, and grabbing his gray zip up. “Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a twist.” He opened the door and followed the dog out. Once his footsteps could no longer be heard. You peek one eye opening, a megawatt smile falls on your face as you nestled deeper into the covers. Sleep overcoming your body with a clear conscience of your victory. Anthony was already growing attached to the new addition whether he wanted to believe it or not.

[websterss]

THE BEST PEOPLE IN LIFE (2) — GIRL IN A COMATOSE STATE

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

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

WORD COUNT: 6,849

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

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

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

♫

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

Note to self: Remind Lockwood to restock the pantry.  

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

We’re out of donuts :,(

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

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

George is a moron >:(

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lockwood-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I have not!” Lockwood grew offended.

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes it shows.” He hummed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

“What floor is your refectory again?”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am...” You breathe out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lockwood listen to me-” George tries again.

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

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

“W-What?” He gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We have to tell him!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You didn’t know?

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

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

How did you not remember?

What the hell was happening?

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry!” You call out to her.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[websterss]

THE BEST PEOPLE IN LIFE (1) — GHOST LOCKED

SUMMARY: It only took a second for Anthony’s entire world to fall apart. 

WARNING(S): Very angtsy, reader becoming ghost-locked. Idk if everything is accurate I’m still trying to grasp the show lol

WORD COUNT: 1,451

PAIRING: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

You did the one thing you knew better than to attempt while on a case. Planting yourself between a ghost charging towards you, and Anthony’s unconscious body. Providing a shield until he comes to, until Lucy and George manage to find the source within the house. It wasn’t one of your best plans by far, but you were out of options and your supplies were currently located elsewhere when you desperately needed them. To be quite honest you only allowed yourself to be vulnerable because you refused to leave Anthony alone.

Your rapier and his long discarded somewhere out of your reach. You felt there wasn’t another way to avoid your dooming. You gasp when the ghost form of the woman morphs into Anthony, the sudden appearance unsettles you, but you reach behind you, feeling for his real hand. Your Anthony’s hand, that didn’t grip onto yours in that moment, now this cursed spirit was trying to have its go at you. You had to hand it to her because this Anthony was entirely promising, even his radiant smile was providing you comfort and warmth as he grew closer. He’s not real. You tightened your hand behind you, needing a sign that he was coming to, hoping he’d awaken in time to rid you of the fear that coursed through you.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment your body went frigid. Locking and your muscles tensing and tightening in on themselves. You became too entranced by the hand reaching forward to cup your cheek that the twitch of Anthony’s finger was entirely missed. Your eyes glazed over with a milky white. What once was the dark blue lit room you were in, quickly dissolved into darkness. Black over taking your vision. Your sight taken. You remained knelt onto the ground, shielding Anthony as he slowly began coming to. The ghost that locked you began fizzling up in sparks of yellow and orange, vanishing in an instant. The source had been located and taken care of. Lockwood had begun to shake the migraine forming away, pushing himself up into an upright position. He groaned, moving his shoulder blade in attempts to disperse the knots and bruises he was starting to feel. He looked around the room, eyes falling to the rapiers that were forced out of your hands, then back to you. Your back facing him. Though he wasn’t concerned over the fact your back was to him. It was your lack of movement that caused a panic to rise within him.

“Y/n?” His breathing started to pick up. As he slowly reached forward, hoping the slight push against your shoulder would make you whip your head around and meet his terrified expression. You hadn’t though. You remained stiff as a board. His face pinched in pain, as the ache grew in his heart. “Y/n?” He slowly slid forward, stopping as he halted beside you. Your eyes facing forward, but it was enough for him to see that his nightmare came true. Many nights waking up in sweaty terror, only to relax and remind himself that you were sound asleep was thrown out the window. He choked up, lips trembling as he reached forward to turn your chin towards him. You were frozen in time. Your mind and body vacant, without a trace of life. You’d remain in this comatose state for who knows how long. Though the slight beat of your pulse on your neck gave him hope to linger on, that you somehow still remained in there. The milky white glaze he’s seen in passing numerous times overshadowed your beautiful e/c irises. Two dull gray eyes stare back blankly at him. His grip tightened against your cheeks, tapping gently in hopes it would wake you from your trapped state. “No.” He cried. “No. Please!” He pressed his head against yours. “Not you!” He pulled back, holding your face. “Anybody but you!” His breathing hitched as his body began to shake. Uncontrollable tears and cries for help echoed out the room's door. Hurried thudded footsteps raced across the house. “Lucy!” He cried for his friends. “George!” He continued calling over his shoulder as he subconsciously fixed the collar of your jacket. “L-Lucy!”

“Lockwood. We found the source. It was the pendant-“ Lucy rushed in, then nearly tripped as the scene before her slowly began to dwell on her. She gasped. Her heart sank as Anthony kept caressing your face. The tears kept falling and so had his heart. It had reached his feet at this point. “No…” She shook her head. Another pair of shoes walking in beside her.

“We’ve located the source! It was the pendant-“ George repeated what Lucy had informed Anthony on. The realization dawned on him as he grew speechless. “Y/n…” Though his genuine attempt was heartfelt, his heart shrunk in on itself seeing you in your current state. “I don’t understand. W-We found the source, we stopped it…”

Lucy held her stomach, waking over to Anthony, whose face remained stoic. His thumb gently moves up and down against your skin. Eyes roaming over your face. Lucy moved her hand forward, her hand grasping yours as her breath shook. Her eyes watered over, mouth opening and closing. Another important person in her life was now taken from her again. Flashes of Norrie settled uneasily in the back of her mind. “No.” She shook her head in denial.

“W-We need to call DEPRAC.” Anthony finally spoke. “Tell them an agent is down...” His face hardened.

“Lockwood-“ Lucy reached forward but Anthony flinched away from her touch. Shaking his head no, not wanting to be coddled or consoled right now.

“We need to get her to the hospital as soon as possible-“

“Lockwood.”

“We need to get her out of here!” He stilled his hands still holding you. Face pinching, the ache clearly written across his features. It hurt. “We need to…to help her.” He nodded. His barrier falling and brave stature breaking. His head fell against your chest as Lucy placed a hand on his shoulder. His body shook as he wept and cried. Lucy pulled him into her to provide comfort, but none was given to him, not when you were compromised. “No, no, no. Not her. Why her?” He cursed himself and the ghost that had done this to you. Done this to him, to his team and divided their group into an uneven number. The one thing he feared the most was now his reality. He just didn’t imagine you’d leave him so suddenly under the worst case scenario. He pulled away from Lucy’s embrace. “Where’s the source?” The dark undertone of his voice made Lucy’s spine shiver. “Lucy, the source, where is it?” He demanded.

“U-Upstairs...” She stumbled over her words. “Lockwood, we’ve already dealt with it-”

“I don’t care. What room is it in?” He tirelessly let his shoulders slump. His eyes casting onto yours again. He leaned forward again, pressing his head against yours, eyes shutting tightly, before pulling back to press a kiss against your temple. Softly apologizing to you. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered against your temple. He let you go, guiding Lucy’s other hand. “Take care of her until I get back.” He didn’t even allow her to speak, standing to his feet, and walking towards the entryway. Though it was deemed impossible since George had managed to wedge himself between Lockwood and the door. “George, please remove yourself, before I do something I’ll surely regret in the morning.”

“No.” George denied him.

“George, I beg of you. Move!”

“You’re not thinking rationally. What good will finding the source provide for you. Like Lucy said, it’s taken care of. There’s no need to go back to it. Besides, we have other things to worry about now...” George trailed off, solemnly looking towards your stock-still figure. “I’ll call DEPRAC and debrief them on what happened, but you shouldn’t leave her. We don’t just walk away when things go bad, not Lockwood & Co.” George shook his head. Anthony's lip trembled as he looked back over his shoulder. Lucy eyes flicked between you and the boys. She nodded, giving Lockwood that sense of reassurance. His breath shuddered. As he looked away, his head fell, knees giving out, but if it hadn’t been for George catching him and holding him upright, he was sure to have bruised himself. George slid down to the ground with Anthony’s back now pressed against his chest. His best friend held him, allowing George’s embrace to help remind him he wasn’t alone in this. They had each other as they mourned your motionless stature. One they didn’t think you’d come out of.