#yes i mentioned lockwood

[just-whump-and-suffering]

boonboom anon again post-episode 5

i got to add my first taiya / jou / chashiro whump entry to the list

we won this week lol

Heyy

Episode 5 was amazing in terms of whump. All of the boonboomgers (except Genba) got whumped.

I'm actually quite impressed with Jou. In the previous episode, he is made out to be the unlucky person that bad things keep happening to. But he is actually very smart, like when playing the darts, he threw the dart at the MoTW's eyes as a distraction so he can bring the people to safety then leading the MoTW and goons away from them. Then, try to fight off the MoTW despite not being a boonboomger yet. Jou probably knew he didn't stand a chance against the Hashilien, but still face them to protect others. Very whumpy I like. I hope this part of him will remain in the future episode where they face off more powerful and dangerous enemies. And Jou is just charging in and then gets hurt 🤭

As for Chasshiro, another smart one. Instead of playing the MoTW's game, he just straight up shoots at him. I predict him getting whumped due to his backstory. Him being a former spy reminds me of Mogami Souta/ Boukenblue. What exactly was his mission that involved Taiya? 🤔 And why was Taiya pointing his boonboom handle gun mode at him? So many questions, I just hope Chasshiro character arc will live up to my whumpy expectations.

As for Taiya, I know he would hit bullseye because so far, he seems to be perfect . But getting tied to the chair and getting electrocuted was a nice whumpy touch.

Taiya reminds me of Anthony Lockwood; both exuded confidence and are orphans (I assume Taiya is one since it is mentioned that he inherited his wealth at a young age). Lockwood turned out to be a traumatised teenage. I hope the same will be revealed about Taiya. Like about how his parents died, perhaps they were killed by the Hashiliens. I'm keeping my fingers crossed 🤞

To more whump in the future.

[victorluvsalice]

Merry Christmas Ace!

@ace-of-tales You asked for Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens visiting Secundus, as you thought Aziraphale in particular would like all the inventions there...and then I mentioned him getting a taste of the March Hare's tarts, and you were like "YES THAT." XD So here that is! Hope you like!

--

“Oh, these – these are absolutely amazing! Crowley, you have to try some!”

Alice did her best to stifle a laugh as she watched one half of the newest pair at the tea table go to absolute town on the March Hare’s tarts. “I take it you’re pleased with the vittles on offer?” she commented, leaning on her elbow.

“I think it’s safe to say this is now his favorite part of our trip here,” Crowley replied, grinning at his partner over an untouched cup of tea. “Always been a bit weak for good food, haven’t you?”

Aziraphale shot him a playfully-scolding look. “It’s your fault,” he declared once his mouth was empty. “You’re the one who introduced me to it.”

“Yessss,” Crowley said, smirking back. “Best bit of temptation I ever did.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I won’t argue with that.” He grinned over at the March Hare. “Genuinely, these are absolutely fantastic. I thought Jane Austen’s tarts were delectable, but these – ! Oh, you can simply taste the love.”

“I make every batch with as much love – and strawberries – as I can fit in them,” March said, beaming back and bouncing in his chair. “Delighted to hear they pass muster! Though not mustard. That’d be horrible.”

“It would,” Victor agreed with a little laugh.

“Oh, indeed – but instead, now you can tell everyone who comes by that your tarts are truly heavenly,” Richard added, giving March a nudge and a theatrical wink.

“Oh, I’m sure they’re much better than that,” Crowley said, picking up a tart and examining it. “You lot are a lot more – creative than Heaven or Hell. Part of the reason Aziraphale and I were so keen on sticking around on Earth – that and avoiding all the nonsense Upstairs and Down. Humans make some fascinating things, when they put their minds to it.”

“I’m a hare,” March pointed out, pulling up his ears for emphasis.

“I think he’s using ‘human’ to mean sapient creatures as a whole,” Alice said, patting his head. “After all, it doesn’t sound like they have anything like you, Dormy, or Cheshire where they come from.”

“Not that I’ve seen – our world is quite sadly lacking in intelligent animals with stupendous baking skills,” Aziraphale confirmed. “I don’t believe we have anyone quite like your ‘Touched’ either, which is a shame. Some of the inventions you have around here are fantastic – that clock tower, for instance, with the giant bird coming out of it on the hour. Most amusing!”

“Oh, Cuckoo Ben? That nearly scared the life out of me when I first heard it go off,” Victor admitted, grinning. “But it is funny, once you get used to it.”

“Me, I liked that motorized bicycle we saw the other day,” Crowley said, with a sharp-toothed grin. “The one that fellow was bragging could outrun any horse. Reminded me of the Bentley, the way he was zipping around. I could something like that while we’re in the city. Get us places a lot faster than that carriage we rented.”

“I’m – I’m rather content with the speed at which our horses move,” Aziraphale said, grinning nervously. “And that demonstration did end with the inventor going straight into a wall. I had to, ah, assist slightly in making sure he didn’t end up in the morgue.”

“I noticed – though I don’t know if you really had to,” Crowley pointed out. “Based on what we’ve heard, these folks could have just shocked him back again.” He frowned, turning his tart over in his hands. “Which – does feel like it should be causing more of a fuss on both our ends. Hell doesn’t like a sinner escaping.”

“And Heaven would be rather cross about the population going down,” Aziraphale agreed. “But I don’t know much about the local theology.”

“We’re still trying to figure that out ourselves,” Richard told them. “The recently undeceased don’t tend to remember much about their time on the other side. What little we’ve gotten out of them makes it sound like everybody gets chucked into a waiting room first.”

“Mmm – meaning the local versions of Heaven and Hell might have already compensated for our propensity for bring people back to life by not letting anyone in until they’re sure they’re dead,” Alice added.

“Maybe,” Crowley shrugged, and took an experimental bite of tart. “Not like I’m going to – oh.”

He stopped, blinking behind his sunglasses. “Oh wow,” he continued, sounding lightly stunned. “This is good.”

“What did I tell you?” Aziraphale chuckled. “Congratulations Mr. Hare – you’ve won over the agents of both Heaven and Hell with your cookery.”

“Excellent – though it does feel like those should cancel each other out,” March noted, rubbing his chin. “Guess we won’t know until I die, though! And get past the waiting room.”

“Which hopefully won’t be for a long, long time,” Alice said, patting his head. “Anyway – is there anything else you two wanted to see while you’re visiting?

“Well...” Aziraphale grinned. “I did hear something about a restaurant where the food literally rains down from the sky...”

[eccentricksies]

thinking about costs, naturally to talents and...

-lockwood’s migraines, that his eyes can be so sensitive (how if even if try to head it off+remembers his sunglasses etc but that he ends up with 2 people to be gentle about it/help him out) *image of one of them carrying one of his spare pairs just in case he forgets and putting them on him when notice it might be helpful* -neil and his feedback loops+causes of death affecting his already not the healthiest body n rather poor mental health *especially post the big trauma incident/constantly getting blamed by somebody else affected by the death* (only himself, the entity but mostly really has to claw his way out by his lonesome as the entity can only do so much) plus well 1 good scare could probably kill him *as well what the entity does has strain on him which neither party knows till it happens in an fast paced disaster situation*

[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.

[lewkwoodnco]

late nights - lockwood x reader

you fall asleep while waiting for Lockwood to return from a case

“Don’t you -“ he poorly stifled a yawn, drawing her even closer as he murmured into her hair. “Don’t you have to be up early tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to ask my boss.”

“Your boss says yes because your 10 am client meeting is at the other end of town.”

Damn. “What about my boyfriend?”

“Your boyfriend says yes too. I’ve had enough of you yawning through my pick-up lines at the breakfast table. Now go to sleep.”

a/n: I knowww the title leaves much to be desired but we’ve already established i suck at titles circa the Falling For You fic so u have to be nice to me 🥹🥹 oddly enough rereading the mediator series spurred me to write this piece even tho it has nothing to do with the series?? anyways enjoy some low stakes fluff 💕💕 can u tell I’m a physical touch girlie lmao

tropes/warnings: fluff, physical touch, established relationship, late-night snuggles, need I say more,

word count: 827!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

In her groggy, half-awake state, she felt a dip in the mattress next to her. Instinctively, the arm resting on her pillow straightened and struck upwards, eliciting a mournful groan from the shadowy figure bent next to her. She propped herself up on her elbows, blinking away the last remnants of sleep in her gritty eyes.

���…Lockwood? Is that you?” she croaked out, voice rough with disuse. A cold finger tenderly curled an askew lock of hair out of her face, knuckles briefly grazing her cheek. The familiar, sharp scent of anti-bacterial soap soothed her as she relaxed into his touch. All too soon, the hand withdrew and the dip in the mattress disappeared, followed by the sounds of Lockwood haphazardly pulling off his remaining equipment. 

“Go back to sleep.”

She blinked blearily, casting her eyes around the room until they rested on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand. “You’re late.”

“Sorry, darling. I should have mentioned to the Raw Bones that I had a curfew.”

No funny quip, no breezy remark. His dry tone was evident, and now she could hear his frustration in the way he was yanking at his shoelaces and throwing his trainers across the room. It felt awful to see someone as good-tempered as him be in such bad of a mood. She winced for his benefit, barely visible in the inky darkness cloaking the room. “That bad?”

He sighed in response, the dip in the mattress returning as he wearily slotted himself against her, slipping his arm below her neck. “I’m just glad it’s over.” Still, the cleft between his eyebrows hadn’t disappeared, and she idly wondered what might have happened that he was too exhausted to tell her. One of these days she was going to pin him down and force out every thought or feeling in his head.

She should have guessed the case wasn’t going great when the clock struck midnight and there was still no sign of George or Lockwood. Still, the lines at the furnaces could get quite long during peak periods, and she had no substantial reason to think things weren’t going fine. 

So instead of spiralling hopelessly, as she was very much in the mood to do, she slipped on one of Lockwood’s T-shirts that he had left lying around and decided to wait in his bed. Just for a while, before trudging over to her room down the hall. Of course, the T-shirt was so soft, deceptively warm and smelled just like him - like fresh pine trees - that she was out like a light.

She never made it down the hall. Or out of his bed, for that matter.

Now, she clumsily reached out and felt for Lockwood’s face, softly running her fingertips over what she was mostly sure was the site of injury. His lidded eyes fluttered shut as he hummed approvingly. “I’m sorry. I thought you were a Visitor.”

She slipped her fingers up into his hair, his lips parting as she massaged soothing circles into his scalp. “Y/N, if your best defence against a Visitor is to drive a fist through it, I’m going to have to keep a closer eye on you.”

If his response was any indication, his mood seemed to be on the mend. The stiffness in her limbs dissolved as she tentatively pressed her lips to his temple. “There. All better.”

He opened his eyes and she was finally able to get a good look at him. A scrape along his cheekbone, and a bruise starting to form under an eye, but his spirit seemed unscathed. The only problem with seeing him up close was that he got to see her too. He cupped her face and swiped a thumb under her drooping eyes. “I told you not to wait up.”

“I didn’t,” she lied. Lockwood didn’t look much convinced. But he was also too tired to argue, so he curled an arm around her waist, pulling her back to his chest, draping his limbs over hers.

“Don’t you -“ he poorly stifled a yawn, drawing her even closer as he murmured into her hair. “Don’t you have to be up early tomorrow?”

“I don’t know. I’d have to ask my boss.”

“Your boss says yes because your 10 am client meeting is at the other end of town.”

Damn. “What about my boyfriend?”

“Your boyfriend says yes too. I’ve had enough of you yawning through my pick-up lines at the breakfast table. Now go to sleep.”

She acquiesced, but only because her eyelids were beginning to feel too heavy. “I’m trying, but I’ve got this annoying whispering in my ear.”

She could practically hear him roll his eyes. He would have if he weren’t so exhausted. “Good night.”

“‘Night.”

They quieted, and for thirty seconds it was downright serene. That is, until the fingertips lightly tracing her ribs started fiddling with the label on the inside of her shirt.

“Is this shirt…mine?”

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

[g1rld1ary]

hiiii🩷 i love your work and i wanted to request a drabble. i don’t know if you’ve done something like this before or not so… also im new to the whole requesting thing.

so it’s basically a lockwood x reader where lucy and george don’t know lockwood has a kinda secret gf. and one day she shows up to the door of 35 portland row and lockwood has to explain to them that he has a girlfriend. (he didn’t tell anyone to protect her or smth).

opening doors - lockwood x reader

wc: 1980

cw: mentions of an injury, one use of 'my girl' but otherwise gn i think?

an: thanku for requesting baby!!! sorry its taken a while but i lovedddd this request and writing this!! i know i changed the end a little bit but shh hopefully its ok!! xoxo

Dating whilst ghosts roamed the streets of London was hard. Dinner dates were a precarious decision and you had to be sure if you were spending the night pretty quickly for your own safety (against ghosts, men were still another question). Dating a ghost hunter? That was harder. Yes, he wasn't exactly a 'ghost hunter' but that was close enough from the stories your boyfriend told you; brushes with death were a common occurrence, much to your chagrin.

You couldn't count the number of times you'd sat up all night in your bedroom, waiting for a call to confirm that he was alright and alive after a case. But Lockwood was Lockwood and each time, just as your eyes were starting to close on their own, your phone would ring and you'd be startled awake, picking up as fast as your arms would let you. He'd open with an affirmation that everything was fine and he was sitting in the library with a hot cup of tea, ready for a chat with you.

This had been your routine for the six months you'd been dating, and while it had ruined your sleep schedule, you couldn't be happier. Lockwood had turned your world upside down after your chance encounter at your university while he was investigating a case, giving you adventures and the most love you'd ever felt. You were similarly obsessed with him, rambling on about your day over the phone and attaching to his hip whenever you could get together.

This was all true, except for the last four days. Lockwood told you on Sunday they had a high-paying case on Monday night and hadn't called you since. No confirmation he was alright, let alone alive, and it was killing you. He'd never forgotten, not once over six months. This ignited a panic in your stomach, anxiety clawing through your chest as you had to continue on with your week acting like you could think of anything other than your boyfriend.

On the fifth day, you'd had enough. And so, on Friday afternoon after your class had let out for the weekend, you marched to Portland Row for the very first time. Lockwood didn't want you around his business, saying he wanted to keep 'the best thing in his life' separate and as safe as possible. You didn't mind, you had a tiny apartment all to yourself that you were more than happy to host him in, but it did make your expedition more scary than it otherwise would have been.

Still, you steeled your nerves and rapped on the front door, picking your nails nervously as you waited for someone to answer. That person happened to be an unimpressed-looking boy who you recognised from Lockwood's tales as George.

"Can I help you?" He asked, wearing cartoonishly large rubber gloves that made you want to laugh.

"Is Lockwood here?" You took his lead to skip the pleasantries, none of it being even vaguely interesting to you until you knew your boyfriend was alright. George hesitated.

"He's not seeing anyone right now."

"Why not?" You all but cut him off, desperation making you forget your manners. He narrowed his eyes, clearly choosing his words clearly.

"He had a nasty accident on our last case. He's only gotten back from hospital today and is on strict bed rest. If you have a professional inquiry, you're welcome to return later or speak to me or my other colleague, Lucy Carlyle."

"Can I speak to Lucy?" You needed to talk to a girl. Clearly, George was not the most emotionally sensitive member of the company, and if you tried bartering a visit with him you had an inkling you'd start crying. If Lockwood's descriptions were anything to go off, Lucy was much more likely to understand you.

George let you in, clearly reluctantly, leading you to the kitchen. He awkwardly made you tea, leaving you to drink it silently as he went to fetch Lucy. You took the moment alone to take in the kitchen, a soft ache settling into the edges of your heart. It was so cozy, so lived in that it almost upset you. Lockwood and Lucy and George. They were the residents of 35 Portland Row, they got to wake up to one another every morning. They got to bicker over the jam and tea. You woke up alone, going about most of your days in silence unless you started talking to yourself, but you were really trying not to make that a habit.

It wasn't that you hated Lockwood keeping you a secret, it made complete sense. He was in a dangerous profession and had an even more impulsive nature, making for a risky lifestyle. And as he'd unwillingly told you, he did have people who occasionally came after him. Lockwood didn't want you caught in the crossfire and you understood, you were grateful, even. But looking at the life he led without you, you couldn't help but regret it a little bit. Portland Row was the kind of place you didn't even have to try to be able to imagine as your home.

You were interrupted by George returning with Lucy in tow, both clearly unprepared for a client. George was in some sort of cleaning gear, the aforementioned gloves and an apron over his shirt, and Lucy looked like she'd been working out but not for long, only a slight sheen on her features and her clothes still mostly light and moving.

"Hi, I'm Lucy," She greeted, a warm (if somewhat awkward) smile on her lips, "How can we help you?"

"I need to see Lockwood, please."

"You know we're not idiots, right?" George snapped, "Actually, I'm much more competent than him." Lucy shot him a dark look, elbowing him in the ribs as they sat across from you.

"What he means is that despite it being Lockwood's name on the sign, we're all fully qualified to talk to you and take your case. I'm not sure what George has said, but Lockwood is--"

"He's my boyfriend." You cut her off, unable to stand any more delay. You were met with dead silence, both agent's jaws dropped open.

"What?"

"He's my boyfriend," You affirmed, "We're dating and I need to see that he's ok."

"That's not possible." George shook his head, "He's never mentioned you."

"Not that we don't believe you, but can you tell us more? We just don't want to let any random person into our house, I'm sure you understand," Lucy added and you nodded instantly, more than aware that Lockwood had made enemies during his time with his company.

You started speaking, spilling the exact timeline of your relationship, details of your time together, vague suggestions that he'd told you about his family, anything you could think of to prove that you were really together. Then, like a lightbulb illuminating over your head, you reached into your coat pocket for your wallet. Sitting on the inside was a Polaroid of you and Lockwood, him kissing your cheek as you laughed. George grabbed it, examining it in disbelief. Even Lucy stole a glance or two before turning her focus back to you, new sympathy in her eyes.

"Will you please tell me what happened to him?" You begged, reaching out for Lucy's hand. She held yours firmly, speaking in a soft voice as she explained the incident.

"We were on a case on Monday and Lockwood took a leap down some stairs to get away from a ghost. He fractured his patella. It's fine, the doctor said he got pretty lucky all things considered, no surgery needed or anything. He was just kept in hospital for a few days because -- as I'm sure you know -- Lockwood isn't good at following instructions, especially orders not to get out of bed for a week. He only got back this morning which I assume is why he hasn't communicated with you." You nodded slowly, taking it all in.

"Can I see him, please?"

They both nodded quickly, leading you up the stairs to where you assumed Lockwood's bedroom lay. Lucy knocked before cracking the door open, smiling softly at her boss.

"We've got a guest here for you."

"A client? Can't you talk to them? I'm not in my professional clothes!" You could hear him rustling in the bed sheets, presumably pushing himself up to be sitting and smiled a little.

"Better than a client, I hope?" You said, stepping through the doorway. You watched Lockwood go through a thousand emotions in an instant, but his face settled on elation, holding out his arms for you.

You rushed to his side, wrapping him up in your arms as tight as you could.

"What are you doing here?" He asked incredulously, a laugh escaping his lips.

"Someone didn't call me after his case," You replied, sliding into the bed next to him to hold his arm.

"And someone didn't tell his coworkers-slash-friends-slash-housemates about his secret partner he's had for half a year!" George cut in.

"Sorry, Georgie," Lockwood gave him a megawatt smile, "Had to keep my girl safe, you understand." You grinned, pushing yourself even closer to him. George grumbled something but Lucy was already pushing him out the door, giving the two of you some much-needed space.

Safely alone, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was so scared."

"I'm sorry, lovely. I couldn't get to a phone in the hospital, but I thought about you all day every day."

"But now your friends know about us," You said and Lockwood nodded with a smile that made your insides melt.

"They do," He paused, "So d'you think it's time for you to finally spend the night here?" You grinned.

"Really?" You could almost feel the sparkle in your eyes. Lockwood nodded again, a matching look on his face. You didn't bother confirming, instead pressing your lips to his desperately.

Dinner at Portland Row was exactly how you'd imagined it; loud and chaotic and absolutely perfect. George and Lucy arguing over the tiny details of a case story they were telling you, Lockwood butting in with a flashy description of the action sequence. You laughed along, compliments spilling out as you tasted George's cooking. It was too easy to see it happening perpetually, and you had to stop yourself from getting too comfortable on your first visit.

You settled in for the night next to Lockwood. You were in Lockwood's bed with him. You weren't sure if you'd stopped smiling all night.

"I like being here," You said into the dark, looking at the vaguely Lockwood-shaped shadow next to you.

"You could stay here more often, the others love you already."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, all that we've gotten out of keeping us a secret is worry. If people come after me, I promise that I'll do everything to protect you, but we shouldn't waste all our time being scared of something that may never happen. I love you," He said. You faltered, breath hitching slightly. He'd never said that before. Maybe it was slow, maybe it wasn't, but you knew Lockwood was so scared of committing to his feelings, this was everything.

"I love you too," You replied, hearing the smile in your voice as you said it. It was the easiest night of sleep you and Lockwood had ever had.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Punch At First Sight

Summary: Anthony Lockwood x Fe!Reader -> You and Lockwood have met a few times before, however after a punch to the face for the third time, Lockwood, which a push from Lucy, decides to make things different.

Disclaimer: Multiple uses of the f-word. Mentions of accidental violence, ghosts, Kipps being a dick, a slap across the face. Fluff, angst, hints of jealousy, and Lucy giving Lockwood a needed talking to. Not Proof Read.

It was meant to be an easy case. 

A couple of type ones haunting an abandoned building just outside of London. The local ghost hunters had all created that big of a myth they had scared themselves away. And the cost of a Fittes agent was too high of a price for the type of ghosts they had. So, Lockwood and Co were the business chosen. 

Only, it would have been nice to know if one of the previous agents had reached out to an old friend to take care of the job as well. 

But, no. 

Instead, whilst listening out for the ghosts, Lockwood stepped around a corner and when getting ready to attack what he thought was a ghost, he was met with a punch to the face and then a voice calling out; “Oh my god, you’re human.”

“Do you make a habit of punching ghosts?”

Then, through watered eyes, he saw the outline of the person who had punched him and it seemed she had clear enough vision in the dark to recognise him. 

“Lockwood?”

“Wait.” he knew that voice. “Y/n?”

“Holy crap. I am so sorry. Are you okay? Wait. Why are you even here?”

“The same as you, I’m guessing. Unless you tend to sneak into abandoned buildings at two in the morning.”

“Sophie didn’t even tell me they hired someone else. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Lockwood managed to stand up straight this time just as Lucy and George came running round the corner. 

“We heard a scream.”

“What’s going on?”

George looked from Lockwood to you. “Y/n?”

“Hi, George.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Nice to see you, too.”

“She was hired.” Lockwood explained just before Lucy spotted him. 

“Holy crap, are you okay?”

Lockwood nodded. “Just a little stunned.”

“I really am sorry.”

“We really have to stop meeting like this.” Lockwood said, with a slight smile as he looked at you. 

Then came a scream. 

“Considering we’re all here and considering no-one else was hired to do this job-” George began. 

“That wasn’t a human.” Lucy finished. 

“And since we’re here with minimal weapons.”

One of the ghosts, a woman, came floating through a wall and turned to look at them. 

“Run?” you offered. 

“Run.” Lucy replied. 

Making a break for it, you all tried to outrun the ghost before another one of her friends joined her, pushing all four of you down a different corridor. 

“I’m Lucy, by the way.”

“Y/n. Nice to meet you.”

“You, too.”

By the time the sun was beginning to rise over the city, you all made it back to Portland Row where a fresh bruise had made its way to decorate Lockwood’s face. 

“You have a hell of a punch.” Lockwood said before prodding his own bruise in his reflection of the pan on the stove. 

You chuckled, pulling a bag of peas from the freezer before closing it and walking over. “Quit moaning. It could have been worse. Here.”

Standing, Lockwood seemed to have grown even taller than you. Taller than when you’d both last met. 

Looking at you, you watched as his eyes closed at the cold contact of the bag as you pressed it to his face. 

“Hold it there for a while. It should help with the swelling.”

“You know, we really need to stop meeting like this.”

You narrowed your gaze a little and clicked your tongue. “You’ve already used that line.”

“Have I?” Lockwood seemed to think for a moment before, “Oh, yeah. Suppose I have. But it is true.”

“Hey, the first time was an accident. I thought you were trying to-”

“The first time is an accident, three times is a pattern.”

You smiled sheepishly. “An accidental pattern.”

“Sure about that?”

“Yes.” you said before, “Maybe? Can never be too careful when hunting alone.”

Lockwood’s demeanour changed for a moment. “Alone? You’re hunting alone again?”

“Relax. I’m safe enough.” 

You moved backwards and began to tidy the kitchen a little to give yourself something to do whilst Lockwood leaned back against the kitchen counter, lowering the frozen bag from his face so he could watch you more closely. 

“Are you?”

“Yes, Lockwood. I’m fine. Honestly, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t.”

You held his gaze for a moment, a million thoughts running through your head until it landed on He’s just a friend…

From there, you shifted yourself from the kitchen table and placed the empty glasses in your hand in the sink beside him. 

“Move here.”

“What?”

Lockwood stood tall once more and turned to face you properly. “Move in here. Lucy got a deal when she bought her bed, so she’s got a second one spare. We can set it up on the other side of the loft. I don’t like the thought of you hunting alone.”

“Lockwood, I said I’m fine.”

“What happens if something happens to you? Look, I can put you on the payroll so it won’t be a favour. You’ll be working with us. And you’ll have a team behind you. You’ll also be safe. Please.”

“Lockwood-”

“Please.”

Looking up at him, you saw the desperation in his eyes. 

It wasn’t often he opened himself up or let himself show any kind of vulnerability but when he did…

“Okay. Fine. But you can’t hover over me.”

“I don’t hover.”

“You hover.”

“No I don’t.” 

“Why did George kick you out of the Archive room in the last case we were in together?”

Lockwood thought back and when he didn’t answer, you answered for him. 

“Because you hover.”

“Okay, maybe I hover a little.”

“But before anything is written, the others have to agree. Lucy, too.”

“She will. I know so. It’ll be nice for her to not be outnumbered.”

You moved in three days later.

Lucy had prepared the spare bed for you and even decorated the walls behind your bed with a couple of pictures she found in some old boxes that had yourself, George and Lockwood in them. 

“I didn’t know what you’d want to do, but I thought I would do something to help at least.”

“I love it.” you smiled, dropping one of the boxes onto your bed. “Thank you.”

Over the following week, yourself and Lucy got to know one another, sharing stories late into the night when researching cases and in desperate need of a break. 

Lucy came to learn what Lockwood meant by the punch when you all met not being the first time. You came to find out what brought Lucy to London. And you both came to discover that, with the right planning, you could both scare Lockwood and George. 

Only, one night, George and Lucy decided to tag team which also gave them a chance to talk about you and Lockwood. 

“Do they know? They have to know.”

“Don’t bother.” George sighed. “Three years and nothing has changed.”

“They’ve been like that for three years?”

George just nodded. 

“Seriously?”

“You know I walked into the kitchen yesterday and they were slow dancing in the kitchen and…it was like nothing happened.”

“Yeah…” 

“What?”

“What?” Lucy asked. 

“Your face. You have that…look.”

“What look?”

“The “I’m making a plan” face.”

“Maybe because I am.”

“Well then?”

“What if we tried?”

“I already have.”

“Maybe,” Lucy nodded. “But that was then. Now you’ve got me. Tag-team. What do you say?”

“Well, considering it would take an earthquake to wake them both up from whatever coma they’ve convinced themselves that they’re in…sure. Why not? But how.”

“I haven’t got that far into the plan yet.”

But it didn’t take too long. 

After six months of living with each other, the plan practically made itself. The chemistry between yourself and Lockwood was palpable and even more so when you were outside together. 

Like when you and Lockwood were in the library with George and Lucy where Lockwood was standing behind you, reading the section of paper you were pointing to, his arms caging you in from where you sat, when a group of Fittes Agents waltzed over. 

“You might want to give your girlfriend a little breathing room, Tony. After all, PDA can be off putting especially in such a public place.”

Standing, and not denying it, Lockwood practically burned Kipps a hole in the ground for him to fall through. 

“Relax, Tony. Just having a little fun. So, are you going to introduce me to your girlfriend?”

“I’m not his girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

Kipps couldn’t help but widen his smile. “You’re not. Well then, Tony.”

However, you were up like a shot standing beside Lockwood. “But I would be very careful in your next choice of words. He might not be my boyfriend but he is my friend.”

Closer up, Kipps seemed to recognise you. Or at least, that’s what his face told you. 

“You know, for all the people in the world, I wouldn't have considered one of the best rogue agents being best buddies with our very own Anthony Lockwood.”

“And why not?”

“Although, rogue is very fitting for Tony. After all, it was breaking the rules that got him into trouble in the first place. Sweetheart, if I were you, I’d walk away whilst you still can.”

The only thing anyone could remember was hearing the contact of your palm across Kipps’ cheek and the red mark left in its place. 

“Fuck you.”

It took a moment to get over the shock before Kipps and his team walked away and you relaxed a little before grabbing your jacket and telling the others you’d be back. 

“Are you-”

“I’m fine, Lockwood. I’ll be back in five.”

It was in those five minutes that one of Kipps’ team found you by the vending machine. 

“I’m sorry about what he said.”

“Why? You didn’t say it. And I’m guessing you’re assigned to be with him.”

“Still, I could have said something to stop him and I didn’t.”

“Something tells me even if you did, he still would have said it anyway.”

“Maybe.”

“What’s your name?”

“Victor.”

“Nice to meet you,Victor.”

Meanwhile, across the room and up a level, Lucy spotted you talking to Victor. Even laughing every once in a while. And when Lockwood joined her, she saw the pain in his eyes before a brick wall came up. 

“We should be getting ready. George found something. I’ll be back in a minute.”

For the rest of the day, Lockwood seemed closed up. Especially towards you. 

“What is your problem?” you eventually asked him. 

“Nothing.”

“Lockwood, I heard you snap at Lucy earlier.”

“She made a mistake.”

“Exactly,” you cut him off. “A mistake. And she’s never made one before.”

“One that could have put one of us in serious danger-”

“We were outside the perimeter.” You could have laughed, until Lockwood asked you a question you weren't expecting. 

“Do you like him?”

“Who?”

“The guy you were talking to earlier.”

“Kipps? You did see me slap him, didn’t you-”

“Not Kipps. Vinny. Or Vincent or…whatever his name is.”

You thought back for a moment. “Victor.”

Lockwood nodded. 

“Do I like him? What are we? 12?”

“Just answer the question.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to know if you’re fraternising with the enemy.”

You laughed. “Fraternizing?”

But when Lockwood didn’t change, you did. 

“You know what, fuck you, Lockwood. What I do with my time outside of work is no concern to you. You know what, do this yourself. I’ll go and help George.”

A few minutes later, Lucy walked inside the room to a very grumpy Lockwood. 

“What the hell did you do? Fraternising? This isn’t Bridgerton, Lockwood.”

“Will you just help with the set-up?”

Sighing, Lucy did as she was told, but not before telling Lockwood a couple things he desperately needed to hear. 

“You’re gonna lose her.”

“What?”

Picking up some of the iron chains and laying them down, Lucy explained. “It might not be Victor, but one day it will be someone. And it probably won’t be long before they come along and whisk her away from your grumpy arse because you’re too stubborn to tell her the truth.”

“What truth?”

“That you like her. Love her, even. If my gut feeling is right. And it usually is.”

“Lucy-”

“Look, you can go on being an arsehole because you’re scared. Or you can talk to her. All I’m saying is do something about it before somebody else does. Both me and George have seen the way you look at her. It’s more than you want to admit, Lockwood. But one day you’re going to have to, or else you are going to lose her and all you’ll have is a bruised eye and a broken nose once every couple of years, if that.”

Lucy didn’t say anything else after that but Lockwood did apologise for snapping at her earlier which she forgave him for after calling him a frustrating bastard. From then, she watched as you all completed the job together and that look that she often saw in Lockwood’s eyes, returned when he looked at you. 

Yet, by the time you had all gotten home, he still hadn't apologised to you. So, with a hard nudge from Lucy, Lockwood finally made his way to find you. 

“Do something before somebody else does, and that includes apologising. And she’s in the Library. Goodnight.”

Lockwood stood outside of the Library door for a while, trying his best to find the right words so he wouldn’t end up with a broken nose, despite how much he probably deserved one. 

You had lit the fire to try and cancel out the cold that had seeped in through a forgotten open window, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought it was midnight, not 6 in the morning. 

“Hey.”

Looking behind you, you tried your best not to roll your eyes at Lockwood as he walked inside. 

“I’m just looking over some old cases. Just so you know that I’m not fraternising with the enemy by reading a book.”

“I shouldn’t have said it like that.” Lockwood began. “I shouldn’t have said it at all. I just…I guess I panicked.”

“That’s a bullshit excuse and you know it.”

“You’re right. And I’m sorry.”

You looked at him.

“Really, really sorry. For the fraternising comment and the bullshit excuse.”

You took a minute and it was the longest minute of his life. 

“Okay, guess I can forgive you.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“I know, that’s why I forgave you. But a cup of tea wouldn’t hurt.”

Lockwood smiled. “Okay. One tea coming up.”

Only, as he walked away, you answered his question. 

“And I’m not…fraternising with the enemy. Victor and I were just talking. I think you’d like him. I think he might hate Kipps just as much as you do. And, no.” you shook your head. “I don’t like him. Just so you know…”

Lockwood nodded and for a moment, turned to walk away until Lucy’s words echoed again in his head. 

“Do something about it, before somebody else does.”

So he did. 

Sighing under his breath, he took the jump, turned around and reached for you. 

Taking your head in his hands, he cupped your jaw before bringing your lips to his. At first, it shocked you and for a split second, he thought he was about to get his nose broken for good this time. 

Until you kissed back. 

You felt yourself stumble a little but Lockwood caught you, holding you close to him before his forehead came to touch yours, your eyes still closed. 

“Wow.”

“I’m sorry but I just had to-”

You shook your head, “Don’t apologise.”

“No?”

You couldn’t help but smile. “No.”

“So you’re not going to break my nose.”

“Not this time,” you laughed a little. 

“Okay…then I’m gonna jump. I like you. Well, I more than like you. Like way, way more. And I…I want to do something about it before someone else does.”

“Like Victor?”

“Yeah,” Lockwood laughed a little. “Like Victor.”

“Then…good. I’m glad you finally jumped.”

“You are.”

You nodded. “I mean, you have terrible timing but yeah, I’m glad you jumped.”

“Good.”

“Good. Now, are you gonna kiss me again or am I gonna have to-”

Lockwood didn’t need telling twice. 

[klausysworld]

Love…

Love is a dangerous game.

Love is a fickle thing.

Love is unpredictable.

Love is merciless.

Love can be both feared and desired.

Love can make a woman do such awful things.

Love can drive a woman mad.

It drove me mad. It made me do awful things. It made people scared and it made people excited. It made me merciless, unpredictable and dangerous but my love was never fickle and it never will be.

Not when it came down to Niklaus Mikaelson.

______________________________________________________________

It started off way before he arrived in town.

I grew up in Mystic Falls, one of the only witches in town alongside the Bennett family. When I was little, Sheila Bennet-Grams would always offer to babysit me from my mother. When I would play there with Bonnie my emotions would always get the better of me, objects would begin to float or catch fire. Grams would always pick me up and calm me down while telling me how powerful I would become.

She never mentioned magic to Bonnie, and I promised not to either even though we were so close. However my magic was something I had always been aware of and Grams said that finding control over it would be better than pretending it didn't exist.

Once I got a little older, she began to teach me things on other supernaturals. Starting with the Lockwood heritage and the basics of werewolves and then we went deeper, to Eenadu and how/why she created the species. Then a while later it was vampires. The basics first again and then the Originals, and Esther.

That was when I first heard of him; Klaus.

Grams spoke his name with such distaste but it stirred something inside me. She only told me the bast things, put a sinister spin on everything about them. So I had to do some digging myself.

He was just so damaged.

He was so broken, but so fixable.

He was just so loveable.

I knew he needed the doppelgänger so I convinced Bonnie that we should befriend Elena.

I knew he needed a werewolf so i befriended Matt through Elena which lead to befriending Tyler.

I knew he needed a vampire too but I didn't need to worry about that. I was certain that Katerina Petrova, Katherine Pierce, would pay the town a visit and death would follow her like the plague. She would either be my vampire or make me a vampire that I could give to Klaus.

And she did, just as predicted. So when I was sure that she had done everything for me: triggered Tylers 'curse', turned Caroline and collected the moonstone, I made my move in form of a letter.

It had taken a damn long time to find him. He moves, a lot. However, I too had made contacts over the last few years with other witches across the states and was able to pinpoint him.

And reach out.

..............................................................................................................................

Dear Niklaus Mikaelson,

We have yet to meet though I am certain that when we do you will be pleased. Come to where it all began for I have an opportunity for you to seize.

..........................................................................

It was simple but still cryptic enough to grab his attention. I sent it to him with my magic and patiently waited.

And planned.

Klaus would definitely want to create more hybrids. Which meant some sort of trip as soon as the ritual was over and his wolf was free. I also knew that he and Stefan were friends in the 1920s, courtesy of Gloria who was a witch I had met and remained in contact with who was also in communication with Klaus and helped me find the man.

So I was betting that he would find a way to take Stefan with him to find his hybrids and bring the ripper out of him, which would not be difficult. I remember when he had gone a little mad for human blood earlier in the year. It wouldn't take a lot to push him back over that line.

Now was a nervous when Katherine went missing which meant klaus was in town? Yes. But I was much more excited.

I could feel myself literally buzzing when I stepped into the Salvatore manor house, I could feel the magic rolling off of Alaric! I sat between him and Damon and I could feel my skin burning. Damon kept putting his hand on my knee to stop my legs bouncing, asked if I was on drugs a couple times too but didn't suspect too much. I hadn't revealed to everyone the amount I knew. Though Elijah knew that I was much more than I let on but I kinda wanted him to know.

Of course everyone knew I was a witch but they assumed I was an amateur, Bonnie knew I was better than I made out to be but still didn't know the extents of what I was now capable of. When you've been practicing magic since you were a small child your power ages with you, I knew that I'd only grow stronger. And so far I have.

I just hoped that he couldn't feel my magic as well as I could feel his. That was a silly thought. I knew that he couldn't, I had a spell to mask it.

Time went fast, one second I was sat next to him and the next he was walking out the door and Damon was asking what was wrong with me today. I got out of it and went home to my planning board.

I wondered how long it would take for him to know that it was I who sent him the letter. I wondered how he would react. I also wondered how he would be if I sent him another.

..............................................................................................................................

Dear Niklaus Mikaelson,

I see that you have arrived though not as I may have expected, Either way I hope you appreciate the ingredients that I have collected.

..............................................................................................................................

I sent it via my magic again, I knew that it would lay waiting for him when he returned from the decade dance. It meant I was far too excited the entire time. Though I did my best to keep my mouth shut around Alaric Klaus himself.

Even when he revealed his true identity I had to bite back my smile, instead I allowed him to pin me, toss me and harm me until he though he'd won. I couldn't reveal my powers, the truth behind my innocent mask. I needed him to think I was weak but still interesting enough.

Bonnie ended up 'sacrificing' herself. To be completely honest it made me mad. Of all the people he could have hurt he had to choose her. I wouldn't have cared if it was any one else but Bonnie was the only true friend I had made, she wasn't here for me to use or bargain with. I liked her and felt my skin burn with rage.

So I made a little spell to cause Klaus an extensive amount of pain .

I got over it of course but I needed him to understand my feelings. It's the only way we could work.

I was pissed off that he hadn't used my chosen ingredients. Damon saved Tyler and Caroline and Bonnie was saving Elena.

Still, I watched his ritual anyway from a distance, my eyes lighting up as I watched his bones snap and his wolf rush to the front of his mind. Elijah's eyes locked on mine for a split second, a slight nod from us both before he took his brother to a place in the woods.

After that I had to babysit Damon while he whined and shook in pain. When his fevers got too bad I would place a cooling spell over his body and transfer some of his pain to myself. Despite not being Damons biggest fan, he was the one I got along most with out of the little group that had formed. He had a sense of humour and wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. Damon was no liar like most of the others and I admired that. Still, I did not trust him exactly but I didn't mind his company.

Eventually Katerina arrived, she did not look eager to see me however she delivered the cure as expected and revealed what I had assumed. Klaus had taken Stefan.

Unfortunately for Klaus, since finding him the first time, I was able to play a tracking spell on his soul. If I closed my eyes and chanted the right words I was able to find exactly where he was in the moment I did so. Which meant he received more letters.

They were always short and suggestive, never revealing quite how much I knew but just hinting at it. I knew it would annoy him, he would see it as child’s play but that's what made it all so amusing when I would whisper my spells and watch his jaw clench as he attempted to tear up the paper only for it to magically bind back together in mockery of his frustration.

It was when he arrived in Chicago that Gloria had me on the phone.

"I warn you child, he's been asking me to find out who's sending the notes. I wouldn't ever tell on you dear but you know how he becomes. Don't play with fire unless you plan to get burnt" she told me, her tone worried

"Thank you Gloria but you've always known I enjoy the burn. Even if he knows, I can contain him. I've been preparing." I murmur, as my fingers trace over the sketch of the cage I plan to create for him should it ever be necessary.

"Do be careful" she whispered, "They don't call him a beast for fun"

"I know" I hum "It's going to be wonderful" I stated, my mind picturng those golden eyes of his.

Gloria had to hang up when she heard Rebekah's voice nearing but messaged me an update later that day. Unfortunately I felt as her life was taken, by Katerina of all people though I couldn't be too surprised. Her obsession with Stefan never failed to shine through.

Not that I could judge.

Plus it worked in my favour. Klaus came back home.

I got to see him and senior prank night, he even grabbed my wrist. I asked if he just wanted to hold my hand which made him smirk and made my lower stomach implode.

He did in fact hold my hand.

Sure it was while he dragged me down a corridor but he held it all the same.

Then he started killing people and turned Tyler which made me happy. At least my werewolf was useful after all.

Eventually I got back home and went to bed, with Klaus still on my mind of course.

Things got much more interesting from then onward. Klaus was in town much more and always getting in everyones business. I both enjoyed it and loathed it.

It was lovely because it meant I got to talk to him, and because I knew so much about him already I was able to keep him entertained and talkative. Especially when it came to art. I had to research so many artists so that I could engage him in conversation for long periods of time. I convinced the others that it was to distract him while they did their stupid little plans but it was really just for me.

I still sent my letters but I was confident that he didn't know it was me. Somehow I had made him believe that I was brand knew to magic and practically hopeless which he apparently found 'cute'. Whether he meant it or not it still made me blush.

After a few months I had the cage made. It was doused in magic to ensure he couldn't ever escape and I had put in a bookshelf with books I knew he would enjoy as well as a sketch pad and an array of crayons. Pencils were a little risky as they had a point but I put in some blunt charcoal. I had vervain growing beside the cage and wolvebane on my bedroom windowsill. The cage was set up in my basement.

My mother never went down there, she still thinks it's all horiible down their. She also doesn't really practise magic anymore so she's basically a human and oblivious to my supernatural involvment.

Thanks to her unawareness I was able to go about things without even being that discreet. Even if she had picked up on it, she made no effort to intervene.

So I continued to indulge in my obsession.

It was mostly harmless, though my letters progressively became love letters. It was entertaining to watch his brows rise as he read the suggestive words, often now his fingers would trace over the lipstick print I had left in the bottom right corner. Occasionally I would wear the same shade around him, just to test my limits. Sometimes I would spray the paper with my perfume before sending it too.

Soon I began sending other things too, like a rose alongside the letter or a sugary beignet that I had made myself. Sometimes they would contain propofol or something similar. This, with a high enough dosage, would knock even the original hybrid out long enough for me to go on over. I would often sit down beside him on his bed, usually my fingers would stroke through his sweet curls and I would press a kiss to his cheek. Almost always leaving the same mark as I did on those letters and taking pride in the confusion that painted his gorgeous face when he would see it in the morning and wash off my mark.

There were a couple close calls where I had assumed him to be passed out only to find him waiting in his bed, then I would have to be more forceful with putting him to sleep. Often magic was involved and I would lay with him, stroking the area I had struck him with my power to soothe the sting away.

Since then I had noticed his glances over his shoulders as he walked and the way his fingers would nervously tap against his scotch glass. I couldn't deny the pleasant feeling that buzzed through me at the knowledge that I made him nervous, borderline afraid. He even went so far as to have one of his hybrids stand guard outside of his room when he slept. So I had to climb up through his window. It was a hassle really but it got easier each time I did so.

I found myself in his room pretty much every single night. Something about how he was when he slept was so peaceful and innocent that I couldn't help but crave it. It soothed something within me.

What was even better than watching him while he slept?

Finding a painting in his art room...of me!

It was beautifully done and looked just like a photo. If i hadn't touched it to feel the layers of paint then I wouldn't have known he created it. A true, genuine smile graced my lips when I held it and I couldn't help but go through all his sketch pads to find more.

My next love letter hinted toward the art but I think that he was beginning to over think the notes at this point. They were driving him a little mad.

I considered leaving him alone for a little while but then he started getting into trouble. Too much trouble. The kind that got him hurt and stabbed by white oak. The kind that had him ready to leave Mystic Falls.

So I had to start eliminating threats toward him.

I went as far as hospitalising Elena, making it look like natural causes so that the others would have to leave Klaus alone for a while.

I befriended Rebekah, started learning things about Klaus's childhood, the little things that meant so much to him. So I went home and hand carved him a wooden wolf and left it on top my letter.

Slowly, I think he began to have suspicions. Sometimes I catch him watching me with a very calculative look in his eye though he would break into a nervous smile and look away, often walking out the room entirely. I didn't like that.

He tried to distance himself but I wouldn't let him. I thought it was clear that he was mine by now. If he had figured it out then he should be happy and relaxed knowing that it's me, not tense and worried. What did he think I would do, really?

Didn't matter. Time went on.

Thanksgiving came and went, Christmas and then New Year. I always sent and received a present. The Mikaelsons actually threw a Christmas ball which I of course attended and I was able to bag multiiple dances with Klaus. I also danced with Elijah, he directly asked me if I was the one messing with his brothers head, we were whispering and I made a little spell so Klaus couldn't eavesdrop. I confirmed it without actually admitting it and made some little threats for if he should try to stop anything, after I left for home.

I continued with my visits, my growing friendships and my gifts. And then valentines day came around.

I had been contemplating whether I treat it any differently to every other day. I never had before however this time I had somebody to think of, somebody I loved.

So when I woke up, I decided that perhaps I'd at least go see Klaus today.

What I had not expected was a large bouquet of roses, bunched into the shape of a heart set on my dining room table with a typed note attached.

..............................................................................................................................

Dearest Y/N, I don't usually engage in human holidays however you've recently changed my perspective. I hope you don't think I've been oblivious to your advances, I'll admit they've been affective. Love Niklaus

..............................................................................................................................

The note made me smile. The rhyming scheme matched all my letters and this was all the confirmation I needed that he had accepted my feelings.

So I got dressed into a dress, the same deep red as the flowers he had gifted me with the eyeshadow and lipstick to match. I drove myself to his home and this time knocked on the door.

Klaus must have been waiting for he opened it as soon as my knuckles hit the wood and he was dressed to perfection. His blood red tie matched my dress as though he just knew and his hand held out for mine without a word being said. I nodded to him and held his hand, enjoying the way it caused my magic to ignite inside me.

I was lead inside to the area which was usually primarily empty and used for parties and events however it was down littered with rose petals. Fairy lights and candles lit the room and a little square table rest in the centre of the room covered by a white table cloth with two golden plates hidden by gold plate covers sat waiting to be revealed.

"Oh wow" I whispered quietly. This was most definitely not something I had thought of occurring. I heard Klaus clear his throat a little as he hesitantly slipped his hand round my waist causing my tummy to flutter pleasantly before he kept leading me over to the table. He proceeded to pull out my hair, waiting for me to sit and then carefully pushing me closer to the table before sitting opposite me.

"I do hope you'll enjoy the food though if you don't I can be sure to get you something else-" His voice began to speed up, I could see his nerves playing.

"That won't be necessary, I'll have what I'm given and I'll enjoy it" I state simply with a reassuring smile. He returned it and nodded quietly to himself as he lifted the cover off of his play and I did the same. Underneath was a beautifully cooked slice of beef wellington with potatoes and a few vegetables alongside and a sauce to go with.

"I was going to do starters as well but I didn't want you too be too full as I have more for us to eat later" he explained quietly.

"Later?" I question with the slight tilt of my head and he smiled.

"We have a lot to talk about" He answered and I hummed, lifting the wine glass to my lips and allowing the rich taste to please my tongue. I licked my lips clean, watching as his eyes followed my tongues movements as he sat a little straighter. "However," he began, clearing his throat again making a slither of amusement make its way to my face. "For the moment, I just want to have a valentines dinner with you, my questions will wait for after." He decided and I nod, happy with his arrangement.

"Very well" I agreed as I cut into my steak and pastry and popped a piece into my mouth, moaning at the flavour and locking my eyes onto his. His adams apple bobbed and his eyes darted to his plate making me grin.

Dinner was mostly small talk, a few flirty comments through desert before he took our empty plates out to the kitchen. I got up from my seat to follow him but he shook his head and asked that I stay while he cleaned. I agreed without resistance, if he wanted to do the dishes then I wouldn't object.

He was back in just a minute and holding his hand out for me to take again, which I did. Then I was brought upstairs which made me raise a brow, "Already huh?" I ask teasingly.

He glanced over his shoulder at me with a knowing look "Don't act like you don't spend nearly every night in my room" he replied making my eyes roll playfully.

He pulled me into his room and closed the door behind me. On the bed lay every single letter I had written him, I clicked my tongue as I looked over the generous pile and slowly glanced up at his face. His arms were folded over his chest and he had that look in his eyes that just told be to begin.

I smiled up at him and let out a little laugh "Right..." I muttered, "Well..., okay, can we sit for this?" I asked and he hummed, gesturing two chairs that we went to.

And then I started talking. A lot.

I went from the start, Grams. There was no point lying to the man, so I just laid it all out bare for him. From the first time I heard his name to the first time I was able to see his face to the first time we actually met, to now. It took hours of explaining and answering questions for silence to actually come around.

His expressions changed throughout the discussion, sometimes he looked a little confused, sometimes he even looked a little afraid but for the most part he just looked intrigued. When I was done and his questions stopped flowing, he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

"You're crazy" He whispered and I felt my demeanour change, just as I went to snap his eyes went back to mine and a wide smile spread across his face. "You're so insane, I love it" he murmured before my face was in his hands and his lips were on mine.

I'll admit it took me by surprise so it took me a minute to react. Of course I kissed him back, would have been really dumb not to at this point.

His hands seemed to be everywhere all at once, every single nerve I owned stood on edge for him and my magic began to flow a little too fast than I was used to. Klaus pulled away, a chuckle leaving his lips making my eyes, which I didn't remember closing, open.

"You've set the curtains on fire sweetheart" he mumbled, stroking a few strands of hair behind my ear as I took a breathe and silently mended the curtains with my mind. A kiss was placed behind my ear and I breathed in deeply. "I can't believe you let me think you couldn't even light a candle when I met you" he muttered and he smiled.

"You let everyone think you were Alaric, so..." I trailed but he tutted.

"Ah, ah. Everyone except for you as it turns out so we are in no way even. You have been tormenting me, lying to me, watching me sleep..." he smirked and I rolled my eyes, "borderline assaulting me!" he exasperated and I dropped my head back with a sigh. His lips pressed to my neck in response and I hummed with a clenched jaw. "You do not like to be teased" he stated and my eyes flicked to him "I'm not mad" he told me but I didn't think he was anyway "your methods for my...affections have been questionable-"

"Well-" I interjected but he shook his head and kissed my lips again which was a seemingly affective way to keep me quiet but I liked it.

"But" he cut in "It has been incredibly sexy to watch you pull an unbelievable amount of power moves under everyone's noses, including my own. I look forward to seeing how many more moves you have" he whispered, his voice becoming progressively lower.

My gaze fixed on him, my eyes narrowed a little. Was he saying what he wanted to say or what I wanted to hear?

His hands slid down my sides to the backs of my thighs before he lifted me onto his lap, having me straddle him in his chair and causing my dress to ride up. My hands held onto his upper arms lightly, he looked back at me with the same calculative look I'm sure I was wearing. His head tilted to the side making my lips twitch, he looked cute like a confused pet.

"I don't take well to being played with" I tell him and he frowned.

"I'm not playing" he replied, his hand caressing my thigh in a way that made an unfamiliar warmth spread through me and I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. For some reason I had mapped out a plan for every scenario except for one where he actually showed the interest I wanted from him. "I wouldn't toy with you Y/n. Should I have wanted to harm you I would have just done so"

"You don't think I'm a threat?" I question and he furrowed his brows

"Do you want me to see you as a threat?" He asked confused and I hesitated, did I?

"Maybe?" I whispered, unsure and he huffed softly.

"You have been dancing around me for almost a year now, don’t you think it’s time we both give in?” He murmured and I stared at him. Slowly his hands brushed higher up my thighs and he pulled me closer on his lap making my heart pound. “Will you let yourself give in to me?” He asked as his fingertips grazed the thin material of my panties. “No more stalking or knocking me out…just be with me, you can sleep beside me…with me and I’ll give you everything you could ever want”

I hummed quietly and clenched my jaw as I felt and heard the elastic in my panties snap. His hand pulled the fabric away from my body and tucked them into his pocket as his eyes locked on mine. I shifted a little on his lap, my thigh clenching around him as I felt my pussy flutter against the erection that was pushing against his suit trousers.

“You have no idea how hard it was to figure out who you were” he muttered as he pushed my hips back and forth in a slow motion. I could feel my skin heating up as my sensitive flesh rubbed over his pants. “You drove me mad” he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear making a warm shiver slide down my spine.

A breathy moan fell from my lips as I felt his hips grind up against my bare pussy. “Do you remember that letter you wrote, you were practically begging me to fuck you” he reminded making my eyes shut, my lips parting as I moved my hips with his to receive the perfect amount of friction against my clit. “Do you know how many faceless dreams I’ve had of you? I had to guess what your pretty moans would sound like, how tight your cunt was, I need to see if my imagination was accurate” He practically purred against my neck.

I kept grinding myself on his crotch, panting softly to try catch my breath and my thoughts and his hands cupped my ass firmly. They brushed across the tops of my thighs before a finger was rubbing my clit making my hips thrust up and a moan to escape me.

My hands curled into his jacket, I always had the control in situations. I needed the power and the control yet I couldn’t even think about taking it right now. I just needed to chase that feeling.

I couldn’t help the choked sound that left me when a finger plunged its way inside of me. At this point my hips were rutting against his hand, my pussy surely dripping onto his pants but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Happy Valentine’s Day sweetheart” his voice cooed against my ear and I moaned aloud. Kisses burned into the top of my neck and base of my jaw, “I’m gonna fuck you against all of your little love letters” he mumbled and I cried out his name weakly.

Another finger stretched me open with my clit was rubbed ferociously making my hips stutter and thighs tremble with need.

His mouth captured mine as I felt my resistance snap. My body shook and my head felt light as my lips pushed against his with force. After he pulled back and let me catch my breath he lifted me up and dropped me onto his bed amongst all the notes I’d left him in the past.

His body knelt between my legs and his face hovered over mine as he brushed his nose against mine.

I think it was that moment that I knew:

Love would destroy us both.

[bella-rose29]

Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 5

Christmas Eve part 2

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: swearing, family members are mean (are we seeing a pattern?), can you tell that I love lebkuchen from the number of times it got mentioned, they kiss again but for like 2 seconds, then they kiss again later for longer than 2 seconds 👀, reader's grandpa isn't supportive of her job (but it's ok because lockwood saves the day), a pigeon was harmed in the making of this chapter (but it lives!), drinking (alcohol), lockwood talks about his family and the Christmases he spent without them, reader comforts him, there is so much communication but somehow so much miscommunication at the same time??? and I'm annoyed at myself for doing this (but it's necessary), this part does not have a happy ending at all (I'm sorry)

series master list

"Well," Lockwood started, looking around at everyone gathered. "I suppose it started in March."

He paused for a moment, trying to figure out where to go from there. "We were on a job, just the two of us, in Kensington. A couple wanted their house clearing out before they properly moved in, and called us. Everything was going perfectly fine, and then we realised that our clients hadn't told us everything about the property, and we were dealing with three Limbless in an enclosed space." Y/n remembered that job well. It was one of the few cases that she'd actually gone on with just Lockwood, and they had been arguing for most of it about the best way to get rid of a Limbless.

Their argument had attracted the other two that were out in the garden.

"Y/n was brilliant, of course, using her Talent to locate the Sources of the three of them while I covered her, but I got held up in the corridor by some Type Ones that had appeared and she was left on her own. I only just got there in time to throw a salt bomb at the Limbless behind her and give her the extra second that she needed to wrap up the Source, but I don't think I've ever been more scared in my life. I really thought I was too late and that I'd lost her." His voice sounded thick with emotion, and when Y/n met his eyes they were watery. She tried not to frown, since it was strange for her to see him so affected like this. Lockwood cleared his throat, and looked back at the crowd. "Then of course I realised that I couldn't live without her and I asked her on a date. She said no, despite my attempts at baking her favourite cake and all the flowers." He cracked a smile, and people around the room laughed.

"Well you did look rather pathetic, Ant. I sort of wanted to watch you suffer a bit more." That much was true at least, since any time she got to watch him squirm was entertaining to her.

"Well you certainly got your share of that, darling," he huffed, and Y/n bit back a snort at the frustrated look on his face. "I had to ask her about six times after that first one before she finally said yes. We've been dating since the middle of April."

"It was eight, but who's counting?" Something about his story didn't sit right with her, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was how close it was to what had actually happened on the job, or maybe it was the dread of all the questions she'd get about her job once people started mingling, wanting to know if she had a backup plan in case this line of work failed, or if she realised how dangerous it was.

Maybe it was the way that Lockwood had looked at her when he was talking about losing her.

~~~

"What are your intentions with Y/n?"

"Don't be stupid," John said, whacking his brother Sam on the arm.

"No, but really, what are your intent- oof!" Sam had been tackled to the floor by John, and Lockwood did his best not to flinch.

He'd been dragged into the library a few minutes ago by Y/n's brothers, and although he was the smallest, Tom was currently the most frightening as he stared Lockwood down from across the room, despite the two eldest brothers currently scrapping on the floor.

"Did... did you want me to answer that, or...?"

"I mean, it would be nice to know," Will piped up, eating straight from a packet of lebkuchen in the armchair opposite. Lockwood didn't think he'd ever seen the man without some sort of food nearby. He sat forward in his chair slightly, trying to come up with a good enough answer that would mean he could go back to the party. John and Sam stopped punching each other to hear his answer.

"I'm mostly just happy that she even gave me a chance, if I'm being honest." That much was true, but Y/n's brothers didn't need to know that he was talking about her acceptance of a position at his company and not the mythical relationship that the two of them had been in for eight months. "I know that I'm incredibly lucky to have her, and I can promise you that I won't do anything to screw that up."

Sam and John seemed happy enough with his answer, and Lockwood started breathing a little more easily. Tom was still staring at him, and Lockwood could have sworn that the boy hadn't blinked the entire time. Will snorted, shaking the bag around to get the last crumbs of lebkuchen out. "Yeah, sure. What's the real answer? No more of that crap, because it's obvious you rehearsed that to make us happy." When Lockwood didn't say anything for a moment Will prodded him again. "Go on."

He clenched his jaw, wondering how he could say anything nice about Y/n when she hadn't said anything nice about him for nearly three years, and looked out the window. A memory flashed up, and despite it having only been that morning, he was surprised at how quickly he'd forgotten the interaction.

Since when had she memorised how he took his tea?

He didn't think that Y/n had ever made him tea before, always making it a deliberate point to make a pot for everyone but him, and yet that morning while they sat in bed she had done it perfectly as though it were second nature. Then his mind drifted back to the night before, and he felt his face warm up at the memory of the mistletoe. He cleared his throat.

"I guess..." Lockwood sighed through his nose and clenched his jaw again. It was starting to ache. "I guess that's true, what I said before-"

"You guess?" Will interjected. Lockwood hadn't thought that he would be under this much scrutiny, but he was starting to sweat uncomfortably. He'd rather be dealing with Barnes right now than be sat here.

"It is true," he amended, making wary eye contact with the man. The packet of lebkuchen was neglected in Will's hand, hanging limply as he sat forward to question his younger sister's boyfriend. "She's incredible - the most incredible girl I've ever met - and I truly am aware of how lucky I am that she chose me. I'm not exactly... easy... to be around sometimes because of my agency, but she deals with me perfectly. She deals with me more than she should, to be honest." He frowned, thinking again about how he needed to figure out how to apologise to her. Nothing he had said was a lie; in fact, he didn't think he'd said anything more true about Y/n the entire time that he had known her. She was incredible, since her Touch was so powerful and unlike anything that he had ever seen before. And he did count himself lucky that she, despite his horrible words, still decided to work for him. And she did deal with him, more than anybody should, and she did it by being just as much of an arse to him as he was to her.

Maybe they were good together after all.

A thud on the window made everyone turn to look at what had made the noise, and Tom finally broke eye contact with Lockwood.

"Pigeon," Sam said, having been closest to the window. "I think it might be- oh no, it's just got up and flown off. Don't tell Mum though, she'll have a fit if she sees the mark it left."

"Alright, I think we're done here. You're free to go, Lover Boy," Will said, waving his hand vaguely at Lockwood and scrunching up the empty lebkuchen packet. Lockwood got up to leave, but upon opening the door a body fell face first into his chest with a small 'oof!'

"... Darling?" Lockwood asked, confusion lacing his voice. The figure looked up and offered a smile.

"Oh, hi! I was just... wondering where you were, Anthony." He tried to not let it show how much it affected him to hear his first name in her mouth, but the slight intake of breath that he took probably gave him away. It didn't help that Y/n was in that dress, since she looked so stunning that he couldn't focus on anything but her.

"You're so obsessed with each other," Lockwood heard Will mutter from behind him, and he realised with a start that they had just been staring at each other and blocking the doorway, penning the others in the library. When they went to move, however, Sam stopped them.

"Mistletoe! You can't break tradition!"

"Ugh, again? Did Mum plant an entire fucking garden of it?" Y/n said, peering up at the sprig that hung over their heads. "They're not gonna let us leave without doing it."

"Alright. Let's get it over with then," he whispered into her mouth, and he couldn't help but feel the exact opposite when she pressed her lips to his.

~~~

"So," Y/n's grandfather Richard started, and internally she groaned. He had used the tone of voice that meant he was about to start asking about work, and she was dreading this conversation. "Being an agent. Are you still sure it's what you want to do with your life, Y/n?"

"Yes, Gramps. I'm sure. I have been doing it for years now."

"But there are so many other things you could be doing! Jobs that you could actually be good at!"

That stung a little, and Y/n sat back slightly in her chair. She loved her Gramps, and most of the time he was one of her favourite family members, but he'd been alive before the Problem had started and didn't understand that things had changed since he was a kid. He believed in her in most other ways, just not when it came to her life as an agent, which was one of the only things she was truly passionate about (other passions included drinking tea and hating Lockwood).

"I don't mean to intrude," a voice piped up, and once again Y/n found herself wondering how the hell Lockwood managed to always turn up at the right time. "But Y/n is one of the best agents in the country, sir. Her Talent is so incredibly unique and that's what makes her so brilliant at her job." He perched on the arm of the chair that she was sat on, and she frowned when she felt the urge to rest her head against his thigh.

"Well how can you possibly know that!"

"Gramps, this is my boyfriend, Anthony? You met him briefly last night?"

"Oh, is it? Right, well I suppose you would know then! Tell me, is she too much of a pain sometimes?!"

Lockwood hesitated slightly, glancing down at where Y/n sat in the chair and frowning a little at her Gramps' question. "If anything I'm the pain. I don't know why she keeps me around to be honest." He sounded so sincere about it that for a moment she forgot that he had ever said anything horrible about her. The rest of their conversation faded into background noise as she remembered what she'd overheard earlier.

It was probably breaking all sorts of moral laws to eavesdrop on her brothers' interrogation of Lockwood, but then again she'd made her boss her fake boyfriend to fool her entire family, so she figured that she was well past being entirely moral about things. And besides, she hadn't been intending on listening in at first, she'd just been walking back from using the loo and happened to hear them. She couldn't get Lockwood's words out of her head, and she'd been replaying them over and over since.

"She's incredible - the most incredible girl I've ever met - and I truly am aware of how lucky I am that she chose me."

What the hell did that mean? Was it a lie that he'd made up to make them happy? But then she'd also heard Will prodding for the truth and his exclamation that whatever Lockwood had said before (which she hadn't heard) was obviously fake, so did he just come up with a better lie?

Tonight, she thought. Tonight I'll talk to him.

~~~

When the last guests had stumbled out of the front door, singing loudly and bumping into each other because they had had too much to drink, everybody left in the house let out a sigh of relief.

Y/n mumbled a tired 'good night' to everyone as she pulled herself upstairs, and Lockwood followed after her. He'd been helping her father tidy up a little before turning out the lights, to save some of the food that needed refrigerating and chucking other things in the bin. She had been worried when her dad first started talking to Lockwood, but then she'd heard her father laughing and had decided that they would be perfectly fine together.

Now she collapsed face first onto the bed, not yet worrying about the chill in the room.

"I can see why you were dreading that," Lockwood said, his voice sounding too loud. She'd had to down a few drinks that afternoon to deal with the sheer number of questions and comments from family members and friends, and now her head was aching slightly.

"Can you get me some water?" she asked, but since her face was still buried in the duvet it came out muffled. Lockwood's footsteps shuffled around for a while, and then went silent, and Y/n huffed in annoyance. Of course he'd just get himself ready for bed and not worry about her, that was so typical of him. She pushed herself upright, wincing when the room wobbled a little and the pain increased in her head, then frowned when Lockwood reappeared, something in his hand.

"Here. I couldn't find any painkillers though, so I'll just go and fill that up when you're done so you can try and sober up before bed."

Oh. Maybe he wasn't being so typical after all.

"Thanks," she muttered, taking the glass from him and eyeing it warily.

"It's not poisoned, darling. If I was going to kill you I wouldn't do it in a way that might mean you could come back to haunt me."

"Charming."

He sat down on the bed next to her with a sigh, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. "You know," he said, not looking at her. "This hasn't been... the worst Christmas I've ever had."

"No? You're spending it with me." He gave her a wry smile, finally bringing his gaze up to meet hers.

"Yeah, that's not really that bad."

Oh.

"Really?"

He hummed in answer, nodding slightly, then got up and walked over to the fireplace. They sat in silence while Y/n finished off her water and Lockwood got the fire going, and once she headed over to sit next to where he was crouching she realised how cold she had been before. He sat back, leaning on the chair behind him. Y/n was hunched over her knees, empty glass dangling in her grip. She could have done the same as Lockwood with the armchair behind her, and god knew her head needed something to rest against because despite the water dulling the ache it was still pressing against her temples, but she didn't think she could see Lockwood's face at that moment.

"The first Christmas after Jess passed was the worst."

Her head snapped to look at him where he sat to her left, but he was staring into the fire, eyes transfixed on the flames but looking at something far away. She didn't say anything, instead just letting him go ahead in his own time.

"The ones after my parents died were hard, sure, but at least I had Jess around and we knew what the other was going through. Then she was gone too, and I was nine years old in a big house that was suddenly empty of the family I had spent my life being loved by."

She knew that his family were dead since the absence of any of them was shockingly present in 35 Portland Row, but he had never told her anything. She'd had to learn it all from Lucy, George, and Holly.

"That first one was horrible. I don't think I stopped crying for longer than an hour the entire time, and I couldn't sleep because I kept replaying it over in my head. I could have helped," he whispered, and Y/n could see that his eyes were glistening in the light of the fire. "I could have saved her, if only I hadn't-" he cut himself off, his voice growing too strangled to continue. Quickly she placed her hand on his arm, turning her body to face him.

"Hey, hey," she said quietly, drawing him into her arms. Her glass had been abandoned on the floor, her hands now holding Lockwood's body in her lap instead. His head was resting on her chest while his arm wrapped around her stomach, the other supporting his weight, and Y/n told herself that she was only allowing this to happen because she hadn't yet sobered up.

She wasn't sure how long they were there for, her leaning back at an awkward angle to allow room for Lockwood to lie on top of her and curl into her side while he sniffled, but after a while she found that she didn't mind stroking her fingers through his hair (which was surprisingly soft) or having his weight on her (it was like having a weighted blanket).

"Thank you," he muttered after a while, sitting up and wiping at his face. He paused in his movements when he realised that their faces were much closer together than was normal for two people that didn't like each other. The memory of that morning when she had smoothed out his collar and he had been about to say something came back, and when his gaze flicked between her eyes and her lips she drew in a breath.

"Anthony?"

And then he was surging forward, kissing her with the same passion that he had hated her with while she reached up to grab his shirt, not caring that she was wrinkling the fabric that she herself had smoothed out that very morning. How could she think of anything but him when the two of them had finally crashed together like a tsunami hitting cities?

How could she think of anything but him when he pulled her on top of him?

And how could she think of anything but him when he sighed her name into her mouth and it sounded sweeter than the tea he drank?

And then she was thinking about him entirely, and remembering everything that had happened since they met, and suddenly kissing him was a terrible idea.

"She's not good enough for the company."

She pushed away from him with a start when those words blared in her mind like warning alarms, the memory of what she had overheard in the library around four months after starting to work for Lockwood and Co. She hadn't heard anything before, but the disdain in Lockwood's voice told her it was about her. She had run upstairs to make sure she didn't hear any more of what he thought about her.

"Y/n?" he asked now, voice hoarse from crying and kissing, and his expression was desperate as he watched her press her hand to her lips and take shaky breaths. "Y/n? What is it? Wh-"

"Don't," she snapped, standing up and trying to forget the feeling of his hands on her body. "Don't... just don't, Lockwood." He was getting up too, scrambling after her and reaching out to stop her from slipping away.

"I don't understand-"

"Don't understand what?! We can't- we hate each other, Lockwood!" The venom in her voice made him stumble back a few steps. "You never wanted me at your company and you made sure that I knew that!"

"I-"

"I heard you telling the others that I wasn't ever going to be good enough for you, and then a few hours later after a job you're telling me that my Talent is incredible?! What am I supposed to think?! And then you spend the next however many years being a complete dick to me and complaining about me, so I do the same because clearly being nice didn't work, and now you're here at my fucking family Christmas event pretending to be my boyfriend and kissing me when you don't need to-"

"Of course I need to! I know I was horrible to you-"

"An understatement," she scoffed, crossing her arms.

"-but I'm trying to figure out how to apologise to you because I know that I've fucked up and I need to fix it!"

"So you kissed me?!"

"No! Yes! That wasn't an apology!" He rubbed his hand over his face, clearly frustrated with how it was going. "It was a mistake- no, Y/n, I didn't mean it like that!"

"A mistake?" she whispered, her eyes stinging with fresh tears. "Kissing me was a mistake?"

"No," he said, tone filled with desperation. "No, Y/n, I just meant that I shouldn't have done it before apologising to you because then it would seem like... I don't know! Like I was doing it just to try and trick you into accepting my apology or something!"

"Were you? Doing it to trick me? Because right now I can't tell what the truth is, Lockwood!"

"It wasn't a trick. It was never a trick, and I'm an idiot-"

"Yes, you are."

"Would you just listen to me?!" he shouted, anger seeping in to his body, and Y/n took a step back at the look in his eyes.

"What, like how you listen to me?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Yesterday, on the platform, when I was talking about my family being a lot and how it was hard for me and I'm actually related to most of them, and I couldn't imagine how hard it would be for someone to be introduced to all of that in one go. You just assumed that I meant it would be hard for you because your family is dead, and then when I tried to explain you cut me off and gave me the cold shoulder because you didn't fucking listen, Lockwood. What I meant was it would be a lot for anyone, no matter their own experience. Hell, even George has said that he would rather be blocked from the Archives for life than ever meet my family, and he's got almost as many relatives as me!"

Lockwood didn't say anything for a minute, instead just standing still and staring at her while the fire in his eyes died down, and Y/n shook her head. "This?" She gestured between the two of them. "This will never work. We will never work. Because you never wanted me and no matter how much I want you to like me in the same way that you like the others, you never will. And I will never be good enough for you." That was one more person to add to the list of people that she needed to meet unnecessarily high expectations for in order to be even noticed. She wiped at the tears that had slipped down her face while she was talking, the salt making her cheeks itch.

"You're right," Lockwood finally said. "I won't ever like you in the same way as the others." He stopped there, looking down at the floor. When he went to speak again, however, he lifted his head to an empty room, and the bathroom door shutting him out.

Y/n ignored his attempts to talk to her through the door, shoving the duvet and blankets that she had quickly grabbed into the bathtub and plugging her headphones into her walkman so that she didn't have to hear the rest of his cruel words and excuses.

She had craved something different with him, and it had fucking destroyed her.

And now she had to wake up on Christmas Day and pretend that she was hopelessly in love with the fake boyfriend who had just broken her heart.

part 6

Tag list: @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @aysha4life, @bobbys-not-that-small, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife

let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the tag list! <3

[bubbl3zdaseaotter37]

Heyyyyyy so I know I disappeared off the face of the planet for like a month there but IT'S FOR GOOD REASON. I'm going through college applications rn and SATs and the whole gauntlet so yea. Also: hyperfixating on a new fandom

bc HAVE YOU HEARD OF LOCKWOOD AND CO??? LIKE

THIS SERIES

IS

KILLING ME.

and then Netflix had the gall to go and FNDUGNSVGING CANCEL THE SERIES and of course I only found this out AFTER I watched all the episodes and was so emotionally invested in these idiots that I think I may have cried when I found out.

and yes I know there's a book series too; I'm almost through book two and I am TERRIFIED of reading The Hollow Boy bc I'm getting bad vibes from the fandom every time someone mentions it. like. Reichenbach in the Sherlock fandom. and Mark of Athena w my Percy Jackson broskis. Violent sobbing in the back of the room, type thing. We got any long-time Lockwood & Co fans here? Bc I need emotional support.

anyways, have any of my fellow fanfic writers ever had the dilemma of "I want to write a fic for this fandom but at the same time I don't feel like I'm a 'member' of the community bc I haven't consumed every available piece of it yet?" idk, maybe that's just a me thing. That's why I'm throwing this out into the abyss.

So what do you guys think, my fellow fic gremlins? Can you always tell when someone writes a fic that they're a new member of the fandom? Is it cringey?

[vryfmi]

there's one major thing that's been nagging on me about l&co adaptation ever since my first watch: if we were to get season 2, how would they set up the conflict of THB?

i can get behind some of reinterpretation of characters and their mannerisms, character traits (i.e. Lockwood dressing less formal and not being a know-it-all, Lucy being less hateful towards George, seeing Kipps as he's actively losing his talent, George Karim being iranian and being very close to his culture in a form of cuisine), some are good, as a fan of books i'd be eager to get to know these characters along side their book counterparts.

but alas, i can't see these characters as the same characters in both medias because too much of their characterisation was changed, and it's really hard to blame on pacing or the lack of screen time. it's the writing. some changes going as far as making me question, what were they supposed to do with this groundwork in the second season.

how would runners set up a conflict of L&Co overworking themselves after gaining fame over solving the bone glass case and accepting all calls they were getting, if show!Lockwood out right says in episode 4 that he's not interested in boring cases? not only does it get rid off of a major characterisation of Lockwood as someone who's, yes, in it for fame, but most importantly he became an agent to "avenge" his family. avenge isn't even the right word, i think. he doesn't want others to be fallen victims to a visitor, doesn't want to see other people lose their loved ones, lose their family to ghosts. not only does it make show!Lockwood rather vain and only fame driven, instead of someone dealing with deep personal trauma, but also loses one of the key points of Holly's introduction to the team. (i also love the reading of LW naming his agency Lockwood&Co as something less selfish and more about him paying a tribute to his family, that without them and visitors taking them away from him, he wouldn't start his agency and wouldn't be able to help other people.)

speaking of Holly's introduction, what exactly would have been her role at the start in the show? L&Co don't seem overworked from the 4 cases they had (2 related to TSS out of 4 in the book, Wimbledon gallows + Bickerstaff's, not counting Wilberforce's ghost and a bunch of not mentioned in dialogue cases i. e. Mrs Barrett's tomb). that already solves the problem of trio not having free time to do chores around the house. but say show says "and now they're overworked" instead of showing, sure, but it doesn't get rid of George's stress cleaning habit.

Holly was introduced as a help, as a support to the way L&Co was already running and over the books she became more than just an assistant but a beloved part of the team. without proper reasoning as to why Lockwood & Co had to get an assistant, Holly's introduction could be messy and unprompted, something like checking a box in the list of what has to happen instead of making it story driven. something like what happened to skull's character.

and a final thing that im iffy about is the ending of the first season. somehow show rushed through and speedran Lockwood's suicidal arc as well as managed to call it out by the end of show's TWS storyline, where books didn't show any progress even by the end of TEG.

but im saying call it out, not resolve. i'd actually appreciate it if show made an effort of showing that such tendencies and lack of self-preservation aren't just resolved in a second, someone saying "stop being suicidal" doesn't magically fix everything. and yet, show still speedran things, especially given that events of the show happen in only 10 days instead of a year, and Lockwood's already made very aware of his reckless behaviour aka throwing himself in danger for people, and, what's even more questionable, for people he barely knows. which, again, contradicts his character and the way he navigates trauma.

these character and plot deviations and inconsistencies may not seem critical at first, but they might build over the course of the series and lead to a complete shift in overall narrative and spirit of L&Co as a story. which i wouldn't want to see as a fan.

to put it simply, i can see why fans want for show to be picked up for a second season, but i can't see how writers could make it coherent because they wrote themselves into a corner.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Thanks Fittes agent

Barbie dolls: Anthony Lockwood x gn! Reader

Word count: 2.6k-ish

Summary: basically Lockwood get asked out and he's like snookie are you mad 🥺 and hilarity ensues

Warnings: cursing, mentions of nausea, possible bi Lockwood but not really, oblivious reader, reader stays in Lucy's room bc "George loses his pants too frequently", I think that's it it's really just fluffy

Lockwood was your boss. At least that's what you liked to remind yourself during trying times. Anthony Lockwood was an amazing friend, but a god awful boss. He was entirely unprofessional. Lockwood would make your breakfast, setting it sown in front of you, before rubbing your shoulder. His hands lingered. Frequently. Lockwood would take something out of your hands, letting his fingertips rest a moment in your palms. He'd leave his hand on your back as he moved around you in the kitchen. He'd stared, too.  You'd be sitting across the room, talking with Lucy. You'd barely glance up to find Lockwood looking at you from over his gossip magazine. You find you'd both sit next to each other any chance you could get. George once pointed out to you that Lockwood's chair was pushed a lot closer to yours than it had been when you first joined.

You were guilty too of course. You made his tea every chance you got. Lockwood always hummed in approval after his first sip. You'd stand next to his chair when he explained a plan for a case, sliding your hand down his shoulders, squeezing gently. If When you found him staying up too late, you'd kiss his forehead gently. You'd tug him up by his wrist, dragging him to his bed. You stared too, though it was more at his hands. So every time you noticed your mind slipping into more romantic thoughts, you repeated to yourself; Lockwood is your boss. Thinking of him in this way, he should dock your pay. Terribly unprofessional. You assumed you both had the same feeling. They’re my friend, and or employee/boss. You never thought any of Lockwood’s actions as romantic. He was just a touchy person, love languages and all that.

Lockwood, Lucy, and George all left to the library while you stayed at home. You didn’t feel like reading you wanted to seek out the dark forces and join their hellish crusade. Or take a nap, you hadn’t decided which yet. You practically had to bribe Lockwood to leave. He kept asking you over and over again if you were truly okay. Do you feel hot, faint, anything like that? What about chills? Do you feel nauseous? Do you want me to stay? I ought to stay with you. You got him to all the way to the foyer. You held his jacket up behind him. Lockwood pushed his arms through the sleeves, spinning around to face you. He asked you again.

“Are you sure you feel okay?” You nodded, fixing the lapels of his coat. Lucy groaned next to the door.

“How many times must you ask, yes they’re okay. Now can we go?” Lucy muttered. George nodded.

“It’s truly revolting.” George whispered to Lucy. Lockwood motioned for them to go. George swung open the door, dashing down the steps. Lucy quickly followed after him, leaving the door open. Lockwood turned back to you. He cupped your face. Lovkwood gave you a sad look, concern weighing on his brow.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want me to stay? Lucy and George can mange just fine on their own. If you’re not feeling well, I can make you soup or something.” You smiled at Lockwood. The last time he tried to make soup, George banned him from the kitchen for two weeks. You had to hand Lockwood his plate outside the door. George wouldn’t let him even peek inside. You spent most of your meals with Lockwood in the study during those two weeks.

“I’m perfectly fine, I just feel like a nap. I promise. You can go.” You gave him a reassuring smile. Lockwood squished his lips to the side, debating whether or not you were just denying your sickness. He nodded. You heard Lucy yell his name from outside in the front yard. Lockwood sighed.

“Okay, be safe. We’ll be back in a couple of hours.” He quickly pressed a kiss to your cheek, before spinning around towards the door. His coat twirling behind him. Lockwood muttered another goodbye to you. You waved them off as the three of them left. Each of them turned around to wave goodbye. Though you didn’t notice Lockwood looking back at you a second time as you closed the door.

An hour or so after they got started in the library, a boy in the Fittes uniform came walking up to the table. The table was covered in books and newspapers. Lockwood could barely see the boy, his vision blocked by the stacks of books. Lucy nudged him in the ribs pointing out the Fittes agent. Lockwood looked up at him, smiling brightly. The boy stammered over his words as he asked Lockwood if he would ever want to go get dinner sometime. Lockwood smiled at him gently. Lucy looked to George, are you seeing this?

“Uh, I- I’m kinda seeing someone. Thank you though, I’m sorry.” Lockwood bit down on his pen after he gently whispered his rejection. The boy shook his head quickly denying Lockwood’s apology. He turned and left without another word. Lockwood let out a sigh, dropping his shoulders.

“So uh, who are you seeing, Lockwood?” Lucy said, a grin spreading across her lips. George had a matching smile, propping his chin up on his fist.

“A small fib, could we please focus on the research here.” Lockwood said. He felt his cheeks getting hot.

“Never thought I’d hear him say that.” George muttered. Lucy hummed. Lucy shrugged before turning back to her newspaper. She leaned into George’s ear whispering something. George agreed turning the page of his book.

You relaxed while they were off. Taking a well deserved nap. You woke up an hour later. You sat the kitchen for a while, making yourself a cup of tea. When you finished, you made dinner. You read some of your book as you ate your dinner. By the time you started washing the dishes, Lucy and George came barreling into the kitchen. Both were whispering rapidly, the words flying off their tongues too fast for you to keep up. You stared at them with your wet, soapy hands in the air. They looked at you expectedly only to roll their eyes when you gave them no reaction.

“Someone asked Lockwood out at the Library.” Lucy started, keeping her tone hushed.

“And he said he was seeing someone.” George added. You shrugged.

“Well I didn’t know he was dating anybody so I can’t help you with their identity. Though maybe he just said that to let them down gently.” George and Lucy both sighed deeply. George dropped his face in his hands.

“It’s you. He was talking about you.” Lucy said exasperated. You gave her a confused look.

“I don’t remember any dates so you must’ve gotten me confused with someone else.” You turned back to the dishes. You heard the door open again. Lockwood greeted both George and Lucy. They both started to mutter about having chores in the other room. You felt Lockwood’s hand gently tap your back before reaching to the side of your face.

“Hi, darling. How was your nap?” Lockwood pressed a kiss to your temple before pulling a mug off the dish drying rack. You grinned.

“Oh just lovely. How was the library?” Lockwood groaned. You snorted as you set a bowl onto the drying rack. You picked up another mug as Lockwood moved to make himself a drink.

“I got asked out.” He whispered. You nodded at him.

“Oh yes I heard, Lucy and George told me all about it.” Lockwood groaned again. He rested his forehead on your shoulder. You hummed knocking your cheek on his crown to show your support. You would’ve patted his head but your hands were wet. Lockwood stayed there as you finished the dishes. You pulled a towel off the handle of the oven. Lockwood straightened up, poring his hot water into his mug. You dried your hands, before sitting down at the table. Lockwood glanced at you.

“You’re not upset?” Lockwood muttered. You shrugged. You stared at his fingers as he twirled the spoon around in his cup.

“No. Why would I be upset?” You tilted your head. Lockwood shook his head.

“Well we’re just like-“ His sentence fell off. His silence hung in the air as you tried to think of what he was going to say.

“We’re what?” Lockwood gave you a bright smile.

“Never mind. We figured something out about the case though.” You egged him on with an eyebrow raise. He grinned, sitting down next to you. Lockwood successfully changed the subject, telling you everything he dug up in the library. You spent the rest of the night listening to Lockwood explain his theories on the case. You soon left telling him you were off to get ready for bed. You made it to your shared room with Lucy. George lost his pants too frequently for you to feel comfortable. The second you stepped in the room Lucy was on you. Asking you what Lockwood said, did anything happen, you were in the kitchen a long time, how were you feeling about the whole thing. You answered all of them and she was still disappointed.

“God you two are so frustrating.” Lucy flung herself back onto her bed. You scoffed. It wasn’t too terribly often Lucy called you frustrating much less with so much passion. She sat up again. “Why can’t you two just like get together already what’s with all this we’re dating but not really shtick.” You glared at her.

“Because that not happening. He’s just a touchy person I don’t know why we have to go over this all the time. He’s just a little strange and usual. All the best qualities in a man.” You muttered the last part. Though it didn’t seem to matter because Lucy still caught it.

“See that’s what I’m talking about. You guys are like flirting with each other and then you counter it out with oh they’re just touchy. And on that topic if he is so touchy why isn’t he kissing George on the head when he does dishes? Why isn’t he making my breakfast and rubbing my shoulders? Why isn’t he kissing my cheek before I leave? Why is it just you? Why is he only touchy with you?” You stayed silent as you thought about her words. Maybe you just needed Lucy to aggressively point out all the holes in your logic. You stopped rubbing your lotion into your hand and stared at the floor. You started to run through all the conversations and touches. You viewed it through a different lense. This entire time he was flirting with you. This whole time his pecks and pet names weren’t entirely platonic. Who would’ve thought.

“Oh my God.” You whispered.

“There it is.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“I told you.”

“Holy shit.” You looked to Lucy. She was relaxed, leaning back on her hands. She nodded along. Lucy sighed and stuck her hand out in a line. I told you so. You dropped your lotion bottle on your bed. “So earlier in the kitchen when he was all well we’re like you know? He was-“ Lucy nodded. You scoffed, dropping your jaw. You gasped and covered your mouth with your hands.

“And you rejected him.” Lucy stated, catching onto your train of thought.

“I rejected him. Oh great heavens.” You stood from your bed pacing around the room. Lucy sat up, showing you her full attention. As you muttered about the room. He probably hated you now. He’s lost all romantic feelings towards you in the past hour. Lockwood will fire you. Dock your pay. Stab you?

“Just go tell him. I guarantee he’s gotten more rejection from you than you even realize. He honestly, he might be into it. I’m sure he will accept you with open arms oh my love you could never scare me away i love you so. Trust.” She dropped her voice when she mocked Lockwood. You groaned to cover your laugh. You stared at her. Lucy nodded and pointed to the door. You steeled yourself, before leaving the room. You quietly made your way down the stairs, skipping over the squeaky ones. As you near the bottom you already knew where Lockwood would be. You saw his light peeking out from under the study door. You gently pushed open the door. Lockwood looked up from his magazine. Lockwood was sitting sideways in the chair, his legs dangling over the arm. He gave you a small smile. You rounded around his chair. You wrapped your arms over his shoulders. Lockwood quietly greeted you, pecking your arm. You felt a pang of sadness, realizing how frequently he made advances and you simply ignored them. You kissed his cheek.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. Lockwood rested his magazine down on his lap.

“Whatever for?” You were glad you couldn’t see his face, knowing he would’ve been giving you those sad puppy eyes. Though this was a serious conversation so you probably should be facing him when you poured your soul out to him. You moved away from his chair, sitting on the couch next to it. Lockwood followed you with his eyes, entirely focused.

“Earlier in the kitchen, when you said well we’re just like what were you going to say?” You asked, chewing on the inside of your cheek. You knew the probable answer. Something inside you just wanted to hear it from his mouth, in his words. Lockwood sucked in a deep breath, fully closing his magazine.

“I was going to say..” He fell into silence for a moment. You stared at him, watching the cogs turn in his head. Lockwood looked up at you, worry staining his complexion. “That we’re like dating. I do understand now that you don’t see it that way, and I completely understand. For starters-“

“Anthony, shut up.” You watched him frown and look down at his lap. “I’m a bit of a dumbass. I didn’t realize that you were flirting with me, or saying anything romantic. I thought you were just kinda touchy. I see it that way. I want it that way. I’m sorry I couldn’t see it before. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you. I want to make it better.” Lockwood grinned at you, sitting up from his chair. He leaned over towards you.

“I think I know one way we could make it better.” Lockwood whispered. You felt a smile grow, nodding at him.

“Mm hm. And what would that be?” You leaned closer to him, Over the arm of the couch. The both of you leaning over the arms of your seats to get closer. Lockwood tilted his head at you.

“I think you know, darling.” You nodded. Lockwood bumped his finger under your chin, gently pulling you to meet his lips. You were both grinning, making the kiss slightly more difficult. Lockwood schooled his features, kissing you properly. You reached one hand out, holding onto the back of his neck. Lockwood pulled back, pecking the corner of your mouth.

“You should go to bed, it’s getting late.” Lockwood whispered. He ducked his head agin, quickly meeting your lips. You rolled your eyes.

“Oh says the man who stays up until ungodly hours every night.” You pulled back further, so you could see him fully. You smiled at Lockwood. He grimaced, feeling caught.

“I’ll go if you go?” Lockwood offered, already setting his magazine on the coffee table. You shot up on your feet.

“Deal.” You latched onto Lockwood’s hand dragging him up the stairs behind you. After you pushed Lockwood into his room not without a kiss goodnight of course, you headed to your room. When you did reach it, Lucy was already asleep. You knew she’d have a field day with this when you dished in the morning.

[givemea-dam-break]

May I request a fem reader x Anthony lockwood where reader is a super talented fittes agent who constantly trades barbs with lockwood but he soon realises that she fancies him so he ends up teasing her during missions by doing small stuff like pulling her close and calling here babe when no-one is around

a/n: ahhhhhh this is such a cute idea, yes of course!!! i hope you like it <3 buckle in because this is a long one - which could constitute for a part 2 if anyone wants one lol

warnings: language fem reader (few pronouns used)

part 2

"Don't you get tired of me saving your ass? This is the third time I've done it this week alone."

Anthony Lockwood leans against the partially splintered doorframe of the house he and his team were working on a case in, arms crossed over his chest and smiling proudly as if he wasn't on his back in ghost-lock mere minutes ago. His hair is slightly ruffled, cheeks flushed, but that cocky grin is there despite it all.

"Sometimes I just need reminding that there are scarier things than ghosts," he says.

Bristling a little, you raise an eyebrow at him. "Is that why I see you looking in mirrors so often? I'd chalked it up to narcissism, but, hey, if it's for a reality check instead, who am I to judge?"

His eyes roll, and he makes a sound that's half-scoff and half-laugh. "We would've been fine without your help, just so you know."

"Mm-hmm." You look around the salt-covered kitchen and the tiles that were pried off the wall - by you - that uncovered a hole in the wall containing the source. "So George was looking for the source in the bathroom just because? And Lucy was fighting the second ghost that she herself told me you guys didn't know about? Not to mention you being ghost-locked. To each their own, I suppose."

"At least I looked good doing it. Your uniform is the most boring thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, so you're a fashion expert now?" you ask, placing a hand on your hip. "No offence, Lockwood, but I'd stick to ghost-hunting. You're at least half-decent at that."

Kipps appears down the hallway, pointing to the front door before disappearing, followed by the rest of your team. He's slowly slid out of the role of being the one to provoke Anthony Lockwood, leaving the pleasure solely to you. Not that you're complaining. There's something so enjoyable about riling him up.

Plastering on a too-sweet smile, you say, "It was great seeing you, Lockwood. I'll have fun saving your life again soon."

You push past him through the doorway, stopping just past.

"And, before you comment on my 'boring' uniform, at least try to get your socks and tie to match. Those are two wildly different shades of blue."

--

You glare at the house towering before you, pissed that you've been sent off on messenger duty not by Fittes, but by DEPRAC. They've got vans and cars and dozens of employees to do their bidding, but old Inspector Barnes has sent you off instead. Maybe as some kind of torture.

Annoyed, you ring the doorbell and wait.

When the door swings open, you're at least grateful that it's Lucy Carlyle that opens it. While she can be quick to anger and is prone to making snide remarks - although you're no better - she's the preferable option. George has a hatred for all Fittes employees and Lockwood... You scowl at the thought of him.

"Oh, (name)," she says, frowning in confusion. "Why are you here?"

You hold the papers out. "DEPRAC lapdog, apparently. I've been sent to give all three of you these NDA letters. They need signing and sent back to DEPRAC."

Lucy takes them gingerly, eyes skirting over the writing. "This is about that case the three of us did in Greenwich?"

"The owner of the National Maritime Museum doesn't want potential customers finding out there were ghosts there, or something," you explain. "I don't know. Barnes caught me on a run earlier and asked me to deliver these."

"Deliver what?"

Scowling, you look over Lucy's shoulder where Lockwood's face has just appeared. Lucy shows him the papers, passing them over and crossing her arms as she explains what you've just said.

Lockwood frowns, looking at you as if it's your fault.

"Barnes has got you on a lead, huh?"

"You calling me a dog, Lockwood? I don't think you want to see how you'll end up after that."

He raises his hands in mock surrender. "I would never do that. You know me. Besides, you're not wearing your signature grey today, so you don't even look like a staffy."

It's at that moment that Lucy slips away, taking the papers with her.

"I'm in no mood for you today," you say. "I've not even been back to my place, so I'm all sweaty from my run and in need of a shower. Barnes has sent me here because he and his lackeys can't get off their arses. And, to top it off, my favourite café ran out of the coffee I like. So, I advise you to pack it in, or I'll be arrested for trespassing and assault."

"There will be no need for that," he promises. "Do you want to come in for that coffee you so desperately want? George is quite adept at making good coffee."

"Even if I wanted to step foot in your house, which I don't, George would probably poison my drink, so no, thanks."

For a moment, he's quiet, as if trying to think of some way to insult you. Then, he says, "I admit, I thought Barnes would've sent Kipps. Maybe even Kat. But not you."

You cross your arms, the cold air nipping your bare arms. You hadn't thought to bring a jumper with you. "Like I said to Lucy, Barnes caught me while I was on my run. I think he was going to head here himself, but decided he liked seeing your faces even less than I do and sent me on my way. Pig."

Lockwood breathes a laugh like he's hesitant to really laugh in front of you. He leans against the doorframe. "Are you sure you don't want to come in for a moment? You're shivering, and it's cold out."

"I'm more than sure." You peek past him, eyeing the clutter and the hint of a collapsed pile of clothes in one of the rooms with disdain. "I need to get back anyways. The sight of you is making me feel violently ill."

"All right, all right, there's no need for that. We were having a civil conversation for a moment. At least take this." He reaches behind the door, pulling out a large grey hoodie. "It's cold, and it's a long walk back to Fittes."

With a bit of hesitation, you take the hoodie from his hands. It's warm like it's been over a radiator. "Thanks. I'll get this back to you."

"Hey, at least it matches your uniform."

"Oh, shut up. You're just proving you've got no sense of style - it's not even the same shade. And, I'm just noticing, you're still not able to match your socks and tie. You need to do some homework."

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. Get gone. You're making the street look untidy."

You flip him off before turning and trudging down the steps, then make your way home.

--

"That's not your jumper."

You look up from your mug of coffee tiredly. The case you'd been on the night before has left you completely drained, and having a nine am start didn't make it any better. Even the coffee hasn't perked you up.

"What?"

Kat's icy gaze studies the hoodie you wear. "Did you not hear me? I said -"

"I know what you said. But why?"

"Whose is it?"

You rub your eyes. "I don't see how that's any of your business."

"It's Anthony Lockwood's, isn't it?" she says, practically spitting the name. "I thought you hated him."

"Like I said, none of your business."

You pull the grey jumper tighter around you. The whole morning, you've been so cold that you've resorted to wearing it. And, despite your - now, somewhat mixed - feeling for Lockwood, you find comfort in the scent of tea and toast it carries. You've not seen him in the last few days since he gave it to you, so you've not had the opportunity to return it. Might as well take advantage of it, seeing as all of your jumpers are dirty.

Kat scowls. "Give it back. Burn it. Just get rid of it."

"I'll do what I want with it," you say, shocking yourself with your defensiveness. "Just lay off. I'm cold, I'm tired, and I'm hungry. I'm not in the mood for this."

"You're never in the mood for anything," Kat says.

"I wonder why," you mutter quietly before taking a sip of your coffee.

"What was that?"

"Oh, nothing. Just saying how much I appreciate your constant input."

--

"Saving you again. Who'd have thought?"

Lockwood rolls his eyes, rapier held out in front of him. "I think you enjoy it. That, or you enjoy seeing me. I'd prefer the latter because I love the attention, but either way."

You scoff, throwing a salt bomb at the ghost that has cornered you both. "I most certainly do not like seeing you. It's the worst part of my week."

"Oh, sure, love."

The nickname causes you to choke, but you keep your guard up. This ghost is relentless, and you won't let some arrogant boy cause you to falter. You're one of the best agents Fittes has, a professional in your field. You know better than to let him distract you.

In front of you, the ghost makes a faint wailing sound, though your Listening isn't strong enough to make out what it's saying. Judging from the glowing blood that pours from its neck and spills over its dress, you judge that it's a Wraith, and not a very happy one at that.

"What's our plan, then?" you ask. "We're trapped in a hallway with nothing but a basement door behind us. Lucy and George are looking for the source, I take it?"

"Lucy and George didn't take this case with me. They're on a separate one."

Scowling, you say, "Oh, well, just as well that I happened to pass by when I did then, huh? You'd be dead right now if it weren't for me."

You're about to keep talking, but Lockwood shouts, "Duck!" before tackling you to the ground. Your head narrowly misses the wall but bangs against the floor instead, and you're overtaken by a horrible chill as the ghost darts over top of you both.

All of a sudden, you're acutely aware of Lockwood on top of you, shielding you from what could've been potential ghost touch. His breath is warm on your face, and you can feel his heart racing above your own, which feels like it's going a million miles an hour. Your cheeks, despite the chill, feel awfully hot. He looks down at you, grinning and about to say something.

"Watch out!" you interrupt, kicking him off of you and grabbing his rapier. You slash it through the air, temporarily dissolving the ghost.

You push yourself off the ground, throwing another salt bomb at the Wraith. Lockwood is on his feet shortly after, and you both hurry to his iron circle by the living room door, panting and gasping for breath. The lamp in the centre flickers slightly, and the floorboards creak.

"Hell of a house you've got here," you grumble. "Who is this miserable git anyways?"

Lockwood eyes the ghost before grinning at you once more. "Lady called Angela, was killed in a burglary back in, oh, what did George say? Nineteen-forty-nine, I think. As you can see, she's very unhappy."

The Wraith wails and a liquidy choking sound becomes more apparent, which makes you squirm. Your Sight is about as good as your Listening, but it's still hard to make out the glowing features of the woman besides all of the blood and her spotty dress.

"Your Touch is good, right?"

"Best of the best."

Lockwood scoffs. "All right, no need to get cocky."

"You're one to talk."

"I was just going to ask if you could search for the source with your Touch while I cover you! You make everything so difficult."

You brush hair out of your eyes. "Yeah, me. Okay, whatever. I'll go find this source then. Which room is my best bet?"

"Living room."

Glancing into the room just beside you, you nod, waiting for your cue to go. For a brief second, Lockwood touches your arm, telling you to stay safe, and then he's launched himself at the ghost. You don't stick around to see what kind of pretentious rapier moves he's doing.

The living room is pretty empty, compared to others you've seen. The walls are plain and beige, with very few photos hung up in boring old frames. There's a two-seater sofa with the ugliest floral pattern you've ever seen and an armchair that doesn't match in the slightest. The fireplace has no wood, no ash, no nothing as if it hasn't been used for years.

You're instantly drawn to the fireplace. Crouching down to the ground, you place your hand on the bricks that make it up, closing your eyes and falling into your senses.

The room has changed. It's brighter, more colourful, happier. Sunlight streams through the window, and a woman hums as she dusts the ornaments on the wall. She's pretty, wearing a spotty blue dress, and her voice is soothing. When she passes over to the fireplace, it's almost as if she is really there next to you, replacing the burnt wood with fresh. But her fingers graze a brick inlaid in the ground, lingering for a moment too long before she moves away to replace the flowers in a vase.

Colours blur as the vision fades away and the sounds of Lockwood's fight resume. Immediately, you begin clawing at the brick you saw in the vision, grateful to find it loose already. A horrible wail indicates that you're right.

A spider crawls out of the hollow gap beneath the brick, and you reach your hand into the gap, which is filled with cobwebs. Your fingers latch onto something, but you don't stop to look at what it is before you wrap it up in the silver net you always keep in a pouch on your belt.

Seconds later, Lockwood appears in the doorway, panting and smiling. "Thanks for the help, love. You're very handy. What's the source?"

You scowl. "Don't call me that."

"What? Love? Thought you'd like it. I mean, you've still got my jumper, and Lucy says that's got to mean something."

"Be quiet. I've not had the chance to give it back. Here's the source. Look for yourself. I'm heading home, as far away from you as I can get."

"Oh, come on. Let me walk you home at least."

For a moment, you consider it, and you hate yourself for it. But part of you, a treacherous little piece of your heart, yearns for it. When was the last time someone walked you home? When was the last time someone offered to bring you in for a coffee or gave you their jumper to keep you warm? Though you hate to admit it, Anthony Lockwood is not the worst out of all the people in London.

"Fine," you mutter. "Just this once."

--

"So, tell me about yourself, love. What makes you tick?"

You look at Lockwood incredulously. "This isn't the time, you twat! There's a pack of Phantasms following us."

Lockwood glances back at the ghosts trailing you. He waves a hand nonchalantly. "Oh, they're fine. We're covered in iron and silver protection."

"I can hear them calling for us, and they're getting closer."

"Well, good thing you've got me to walk you home. Who better to keep you safe?"

You curse under your breath, wondering why you'd ever agreed more than once to let him walk you home. The first time was bearable, the second time less so. Now, the eighth, you're at your wit's end. Having the company, especially when walking in the dark so late at night, made you feel a little better, but things would definitely be splendid if he'd shut his mouth for once.

"What did I say about you calling me 'love'?"

"If I remember correctly, you said, and I quote, If you call me that again, I'm going to tear out your tongue and feed it to Kipps for breakfast. Did I get that right?"

"Yes, you did."

"Well, if it annoys you, more the reason to say it, right, love?"

You shove him, and he stumbles, laughing, as you trudge along the park's path, glancing back at the phantasms following behind.

"So...?" Lockwood says, drawing near once more.

You raise your eyebrows. "So?"

"What makes you so prickly? Kat Godwin is bad, but she's quiet most of the time. You, on the other hand, spark a debate the minute you walk into a room. What is it? An incessant hatred for the world? Never had any friends growing up? Oh, I know, you had a pet that got run over when you were a child, and now you hate everyone in return?"

Glaring at him, you say, "No. To all of them."

"So what is it then?"

"I don't know." You shrug. You don't know why you feel the urge to tell him a real answer. "I've never seen anything different, I suppose. My parents didn't really... parent, when I was a kid, so now I don't know how to talk to people any other way than how I do. It's how they spoke to me, or so I've been told. Kipps put me in therapy for a while, but my therapist was a thick-skulled -"

Lockwood's laugh cuts you off, and you glance at him sidelong. There's something about the way the moonlight hits his skin; how the cold midnight air makes his cheeks rosy; how his smile seems to light up his face. It makes everything feel a little less bad.

"I don't know how to word things without sounding mean," you say, "because that's all anyone has ever been to me. Even at Fittes."

"So you don't mean to hurl verbal abuse at me every chance you get?"

"Oh, no, I absolutely do. You're the biggest idiot I've ever met, and you could really work on that narcissism of yours. It's a killer. Real no-go for a girl."

"So now you're saying you're interested in me, but my confidence is putting you off?"

The arrogance in his eyes makes you want to strangle him. "No, that's not what I'm saying at all."

But, is it? You're not sure. There's a funny feeling in your chest, but you're half convinced it's just heartburn and not something people tend to call 'crushing' or 'loving'. You're not entirely sure what either of those things feels like.

He makes to speak again, but he glances back at the group of phantasms following you and grins. "Fancy another ghost fight tonight?"

You sigh. "You really know how to get a girl excited."

--

"Love, pass me a salt bomb or five."

You glance into the hallway for any of the other agents scouting the mansion, scowling. "Don't call me that!"

"Whatever you say, love. Now, the salt bombs?"

Resisting the urge to throw them at his face, you pass Lockwood a few salt bombs begrudgingly.

Your Fittes team and Lockwood's agency have been teamed up on a case by DEPRAC, and Lockwood being the pompous ass he is paired you both together and has been teasing you incessantly. Nothing new there, except for the feeling it incites in your chest.

It can't really be described as heartburn, anymore, because it only ever happens whenever you see him or hear his name. You've found yourself growing bored and - you hate to say this - lonely without his company and quips, and find yourself to be your happiest when throwing insults at each other, though they feel a little more light-hearted now than they once did. Well, you feel as happy as you believe you can be, with as little experience of it as you've had.

You try to ignore the way your skin tingles and cheeks flush when his fingers brush yours and try even harder to pretend you don't see the shit-eating grin on his face from your reaction.

"You're insufferable, you know that right?" you ask as you pull iron chains from your bag.

"Only because you tell me every chance you get," Lockwood says. "I live to give you that privilege."

You roll your eyes. "I can stab you with my rapier, so you'd do well to remember that."

The weight of his arm rests on your shoulders, and he pulls you close to his side. You grow tense at the sudden movement and the close proximity, and hope he can't feel your racing heartbeat. It'll only give him one more thing to pick at you about. You're just unused to being held, you tell yourself.

"But you wouldn't do that, love. You've grown quite fond of me these past few months."

"Have not."

"Care to return my jumper, then? I'm in dire need of it."

Once more, your face flushes. "You told me to keep it a little longer while my morning runs are still cold."

"As a formality. You were meant to say something smart like, Like hell I will, asshat, take it back before I become infected by the bacteria you carry. Your insults are becoming boring."

"Is that so?" You narrow your eyes at him. "Well, you are an asshat, for one. For two, I'd advise you let go of me, or I fear my skin will burn off from the way your brain is overheating trying to keep a conversation with me. So, love, how about you take your arm back?"

He grins, drawing you closer until your cheeks are almost touching. "If I die from overheating, you're going down with me."

You shove him away, scowling once more, but part of you wants to laugh. This kind of banter with him has grown familiar, comforting. And, well, though you might protest it much of the time, being called 'love' gives your heart a little flutter, like it's glad it's finally getting some attention after a lifetime of being as hard and cold as stone.

Bit by bit, Lockwood has softened it up, but you'll never tell him that. He would only grow too smug.

"You know," Lockwood says, "I think you're bribing DEPRAC so that you can get put on cases with us. This is the second one in two weeks."

"Why on earth would I ever bribe DEPRAC for that? If anything, I'd bribe them to get me out of it." You lay the chains out in a neat circle and place all your things inside. "If anyone's doing it, it's you, because you're obsessed with me."

"And so what if I am, love? You're very fun to poke fun at."

Your hands falter, and you hope he hasn't noticed. "Whatever."

He grins, watching your every move. "You can admit you feel the same, you know? You're not going to face a horrible death for admitting you enjoy spending time with me."

You don't know what to say to that. Because, yes, you do enjoy spending time with him, in your little confusing way. Being around him has opened you up to new feelings you've never had the chance to really feel before, and you're grateful for it, but admitting it? It's like giving him the key to a locked door and granting him 24/7 access. It terrifies you and makes you feel vulnerable.

"Be quiet so we can get on with our surveys," you murmur. "I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Scared? Don't worry, I can hold your hand."

And he does. His hand wraps around yours, enveloping it in warmth, and you find yourself staring at it, unwilling to pull away from his touch. It seems to shock Lockwood, too, judging from his parted lips and slightly-too-wide eyes, but his hand squeezes yours gently and you feel a little piece of your heart soften.

There's a creak in the hallway, and you jerk your hand away, standing straight, face hot. But there's nothing, no one. Just you, Lockwood, and a barrage of feelings you're not sure what to do with.

[ngray192]

Ok, Chaos Theory came out and I watched ALL OF IT.

So, I'm gonna share every thought I had while watching, with no context whatsoever!

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!!!

• Brooklyn is already dead ig

• The animation is beautiful

• Darius to the rescue!!

• He's so grown up

• Hes still so Darius

• Sammy would be proud

• This animation is gorgeous omg

• He took mannerisms from his friends omg

• Allosaurus killed Brooklyn!!!?!?

• Omg this show is darker than the first

• His groceries are gonna fly out

• Curse, I know you want to

• Is it a gun gun or tranq gun?

• Omg is he leaving voicemails to Dead Brooklyn??

• Did they get Jenna Ortega back or no?

• He's got a little cabin

• Wtf is that gun??

• Brand!!

• He's like 20 rn?

• CAMP FAM

• Kenji and Darius had a falling out??

• AAAA NEWS VIDEOS

• I miss them

• Someone do the "despite everything it's still you"

• Ok he slayed that electric staff whip tho

• BEN

• He's anxious af

• HES STILL WEARING A FANNY PACK

• God this is so sad wtf

• Ofc there's a site caller Dark Jurassic

• I saw this scene in the clip already

• Teamwork

• That was the whole episode?!

2

• "Aw crud"

• Someone broke the fence

• Why did you park so far away??

• Ofc he drives a van

• The eyessss

• Lockwood Estate mentioned

• Always the logical one

• He wrote down his theories

• Boyfriends??

• "Dork pouch"

• BUMPY DRAEN ON THE WHITEBOARD

• NO HESITATION LMAO

• He's so goofy I love him

• Facial expressions on point

• SHE SENDS CARE PACKAGES

• "Yee-haw"

• Do they only have one picture of them all?

• It's a female voice??

• Oh it was Brooklyn

• They didn't even try to make her sound the same

• I don't like her hair

• She's still Brooklyn

• Isn't that the plot of someone's fanfic on the Discord??

• Someone's gonna read that scene as romantic

• Ben is a reckless driver god damn

• Where are they that they can drive to Texas easily?

• Move dino move!!

• No rear view mirror doesn't sound safe

• Let this boy pee

• BENJAMIN

• He's so done with him

• Hes giving season 4 episode 2

• Boyfriends??

• NERDS

• OMG FIRE

• Hero Ben!!

• Ew the face

• Camp fammmmm

• THE HEAT WAVES this animation is everything

• We get different end-credits every ep??

3

• Cows!

• "Chip me"

• He's so happy to see the ranch

• The ranch is so Sammy

• Awww she's so Farm Girl

• She's STRONG

• She got tall lmao

• Bessie had a calf?!?

• Do Yaz and Sammy usually live together?!!

• "Ding-dong"

• NO FUCKING WAY

• ITS BUMPY!!!!!!

• THE PUPILS

• THIS IS EVERYTHING

• Is Mantah Corp back??

• KILL HIM BUMPY

• Boooo Sammy

• Fuck Carl

• She's an herbivore tf

• Me and Ben on the same wavelength fr

• Tell him, Sammy

• Let this girl have her pie

• She's Sammy, but she's grown up a lot

• She still has her jacketttt

• What happened to her???

• She's so saddd

• Why aren't her parents talking to her??

• NOT YAZ PULLING AWAY

• Don't split up!!

• Omg Carl

• Communication through hand signalsss

• That shot with the raptor and the moon tho

• We haven't had many cute moments yet, it's really about survival now, they've really grown up

• Not the pieeee

• The genuine fear in her eyes holy shit

• BUMPY

• No more Beanie Ben

• So now he has a rear view mirror

• This reminds me a lot of Jurassic Park 2

4

• This episode is titled Brothers

• Season 3 episode 7 vibes

• I love how Ben loves Bumpy

• Their faces are so close

• BENJAMIN

• HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND

• Fucking liar lmao

• Does Kenji blame him???

• THEY STILL GLOW

• God I cannot get over the animation

• Poor boy kenji???

• The kick lmao

• He almost sounds like Ryan Porter

• He's not the tallest anymoreeee

• Benji???

• He doesn't act like Kenji 100% but it's still there

• I miss Ryan Porter

• Another framed photo!!

• They use the words "death" and "dead" a lot, but not "died" or "killed"

• DANIEL KON?!??!

• Yes, go get your girl

• Ok but Sammy and Ben are so Mom and Dad

• Good thing he just had spare gear???

• Oh it's probably for Brooklyn

• That shot he looked so much like Little Darius

• Oh no they broke up, so sad 😐

• Woah

• Valid reason to break up

• He's completely valid for being mad idc

• NOOO DONT GET BUMPY

5

• COMPIES

• Ofc he loves this kind of music

• You guys are supposed to be family tho

• DAMN THATS COLD

• EVERY WEEK I love Kenji

• "Love you" awwww

• She's so sassy I love her

• The head sway omgggg

• The carobbbb

• These background characters are way too hyped for this

• Bobby Nublar?

• Awww poor baby dino

• Free the dinos!!

• Oh he got OLD

• Damn straight in there

• She's so hurt :(

• He only thought Sammy was suspicious

• Creepy ass big ass forehead bitch

• Daniel Kon is a LIAR

• We should've gotten Kenji speaking Japanese in JWCC

• Love sassy Kenji

• "Yeah ok, I'll get my violin" GIRL

• Omg he almost punched Ben

• Yesss Sammy beat the shit out of him

• Those are the smallest corn dogs ever

• You're a shit dad

• What?! Brooklyn would never

• Kenji and I are on the same wavelength

• Different? Was it her voice?

• Are those lillies?

• These bitches are everywhere

• Kill Daniel

• He's old af hes about to have a heart attack anyway

• DAWG WHO TF ARE YOU

• CREEPY ASS BITCH

• Shitttt Daniel tackled that raptor

• Holy shit they killed Kenji's dad

• She's so fucking creepy omg

• I hope she's not from Dominion cause I haven't watched that

• Who's driving the car???!

6

• YAZ

• She's coping!!

• She wants to make it work!!!

• Ok but the crop top on Yaz???

• THE PICTURE ON HER PHONE

• Ben is everything this season

• "Love you too" AWWWW

• Where is there an island in Wyoming??

• She's so nervous/excited

• They're perfect together

• "Fadoula"

• She's happy here. Writers, let her be happy

• "Benny-boy"

• She's so geeky

• "Your favorite"

• They're all the same but so grown up

• Ben's scream lmao

• BENS SO SUPPORTIVE

• So Brooklyn has been dead less that 14 months

• They're both valid in this argument

• Ok but Ben and Yaz friendshipppp

• Is Ben actually dating someone??

• Ooo that's a cool dino

• Omg this show is darker than the og

• How did she walk so far??

• Yaz holding Ben's arm is cute tho

• Girlfriendssss

• BIG BEN

• Dumbass DPW

• Wtf??

• Omg

7

• Therapy girlfriend to the rescue

• Omg I forgot about Darius and Kenji

• Noooo baby boy Kenji

• Wow 2 major deaths already

• God I love Ben

• I feel like they should've drowned by now

• They held hands while swimming up

• Aw he has a daughter

• He lowkey sounds like Ryan Porter

• Idc about this Brooklyn death backstory

• Sammy looks fucking crazy in their one picture of the 6

• Ben 3rd wheeling just like all of season 5

• Their heads SLAMMED together

• He's so weird about this car lmao

• The car scene is funny

• They're in Colorado now??

• This hill is STEEP

• He's been waiting to throw those phones for DAYS

• Why tf would he be coming with you?

• Why did I believe the voicemail?? I saw her phone get ruined

• Darius CALM DOWN let kenji have at least something about Brooklyn DAMN

• Dude this mystery is DEEP

8

• Reminds me of Jurassic World Fallen Kingdom

• Gonna barf because of this "bwookie bear" scene

• He always has been a bad liar

• Sammy is physically fight for EVERYBODY'S lives

• Omg we're actually doing the Darius×Brooklyn plot??

• So that means no Ben×Darius plot???

• BUMPY (again)

• What did they do to you, Bumps???

• "Oh heyyyy" "boo" I LOVE THEM

• I love a good chase scene

• If a car can just drive through it, that fence was shit

• Nobody does a stampede like this show does

• Lots of death (even if they're all cutaways)

9

• God I'm flying through this show

• The heartbeating is EVERYTHING

• Anxious girlfriends

• More good camerawork and angles

• Ofc they'd be good at charades

• Are there still no male dinosaurs?

• Big Eatie mentioned

• "Ok I get it, you're a climber"

• Oh are Camp Fam at the same place?

• She's sick???

• If Bumpy dies I'll kms

• Why is he just carrying a stick?

• GIRL STOP KICKING THINGS

• I love reunions

• No cause why am I sad

• Did he call her "MICROBANGS"

• They're still the same kids from the island and I love that

• Once again, they're so Mom and Dad

• Is she in labor?!?!?!

• YOU CANNOT SCARE US LIKE THAT

• What're they gonna name the egg?!??!

10

• Last episodeeee

• Oh shit we used the word "killed"

• His hat is so tall

• Omg he shocked Ben

• Benji?

• We have so much to wrap up in 23 minutes

• This is lowkey scary

• This is so suspenseful

• She looks familiar

• THE FIRST PERSON SHOTS IN THISSSS

• Is she just dead then???

• Toro!!

• THE EXPLOSION BEHIND THE T-REX IM SORRY THAT WAS AWESOME

• THEY'RE ADORABLE

• The slow-motion scene is so cool

• Coolest dino fight ever

• FUCKING CREEPY BITCH

• Awww she's bonding? with her guard-raptors? I don't care

• Wait is that it??

• They better make another season

• Everyone's so happy for Darius being in love

• She didn't feel the same?! THATS why he didn't show???

• I fucking knew she was still alive

• SHE LOST AN ARM?!

• Her hair got even worse

• So we're getting another season???

[wordsarelife]

—fearless

pairing: george karim x gn!reader

summary: george admires you deeply. not only because you're his partner, but because you have an extraordinary gift

warnings: slightly suggestive if you squint, mentions of dying, ghosts, the usual

note: i just noticed, that this was probably the last george fic i'll ever write. it was so fun to write and i love george with all my heart. i hope you guys like it!!

the stairs were rusty and every bit of wood was making a sound when you were walking over it. george was following you and even though you knew it were his steps behind you, they still made you turn around and check. just to be sure.

lockwood and lucy were inspecting the first floor of the house, while you had decided to accompany your boyfriend upstairs, feeling like a type two wasn't far away.

george had been impressed by your ghost fighting skills ever since you had joined lockwood and co. you were one of a kind, able to talk to ghosts and calm them down.

george had been a bit suspicious of you when you had told him and lockwood what you could do.

"sure" george had said "you know, when it gets dark i can fly"

lockwood had noticed the look you where sending his friend and had known right in that moment that the two of you were a match made in heaven. or at least thats what he liked to claim.

in reality he had to seperate the both of you, because you kept making each other more angry.

after your first case george had apologized to you and the rest was history.

"do you have the chain?" you turned around to look at him

he patted the bag hanging from his shoulder. you could hear the silver clinging and nodded relieved. "good"

he followed you into one of the bedrooms and closed the door. he put down the bag and started laying down the chain, while you inspected the walls. "not long" you mumbled while checking the temperature.

"i can feel it too" george got up from the ground and watched you closely. you closed your eyes, feeling over the walls and hearing voices fill the room. you gasped, walking backwards, right into george's arms.

"what is it?" he asked worriedly.

"it was an accident" you mumbled "she isn't angry"

as if on cue, a ghost emerged from the wall. she was flowing in front of you in a constant motion.

"then what is she?" george voice slipped into a light panic.

"sad" you answered softly.

even without your special talent, you were able to notice that the ghost in front of you was the opposite of angry. she wasn't even coming closer. her long hair was flowing in the air and her eyes looked so regretful you almost wanted to pack everything up and leave her alone.

"hello" you said instead.

she looked confused at your try to talk with her.

"i'm y/n" you continued. you pointed behind you "this is george"

george raised his hand hesitantely "ehh, hi!"

"and you're maddy, right?" you asked and the ghost smiled "your mum told us about you" what she left out was any information about how her daughter had died. now you were wishing she hadn't. the eyes of the little girl made you so sad, you almost couldn't concentrate. but you had to.

"yeah" george added, unsure if she could understand him as well. but you had told him she could, as long as he was holding onto your hand.

that was another extraordinary thing george had noticed. you were even able to share your talent, by touching other people. he could only admire you for using your power. he had never met someone less scared of ghosts than you. not even lockwood.

no ghost could scare you, he thought. not even wraiths. most of them would calm down by your presence alone. maybe it was that they had no one to talk to before, or it was just something about you. maybe your smile or your kindness that they could feel and would keep them from hurting you.

"mum" maddy repeated and george's eyes grew soft when he heard her voice. it was a lot to see a young girl as a ghost, but her voice tore his heart open.

"yes" you smiled sympathetically. "she moved, that's why she's been gone"

"because of me?" maddy asked.

you shook your head. "no, sweetheart. she wanted to take her with you, but she didn't know how, so she called us"

maddy smiled.

it was true what you were saying. her mum had been too scared to hurt her or destroy the ghost form of her daughter, while she had sworn that she was a friendly ghost. but she wasn't sure how she would react to the strange agents in her house. she had thought that maddy would be angry perhaps. that's why you came as prepared as you were.

lockwood had promised the woman to safely secure her daughters source, so she could take her with her.

"teddy" maddy said simply. your eyes wandered around the room, until they landed on a chair, a little teddybear sitting on top of it.

"this one?" you asked, picking up the bear.

maddy nodded.

"okay" you smiled. "we will put it under this net. you will be gone for some time, but we will give it to your mum and when you wake up, she will be there, okay?"

"okay" maddy said and george was surprised how easy it was to deal with her. almost too easy. as if on cue, you could hear loud sounds from downstairs.

"the man" maddy said fearfully

"what man, maddy?" you asked, hearing lucy cry out your name "you have to tell us, okay?"

"the angry man" maddy said again "he is screaming and he is mean"

"it's alright, sweetheart" you tried to calm her. george had never seen a ghost be scared before. "wrap her source" you took out the silver net and held it in george's direction. "we will make him leave" you assured maddy "and you will be with your mum"

"okay" maddy nodded and the next second she was gone.

"what now?"

"we have to get rid of an angry man" you smiled, leaving the room and dashing down the stairs to help your friends.

lucy and lockwood were in the middle of a fight with the ghost, when you entered the living room. "y/n" lucy called relieved "maybe you can-" she jumped to the side, escpaping a chair the ghost had swung at her "talk to him"

"i'm not sure that will work" lockwood panted, throwing a few saltbombs. "it won't take him long to come back" he fixed his suit.

"we have to find the source" you turned to george, who nodded at that. "you go" you told lucy and lockwood "we will take care of him"

"are you sure?" lockwood asked and you nodded, making a gesture for them to leave the room. "okay" lockwood said "we'll be quick"

"i know" george took his position next to you

"how about some netflix and chill after this?" you asked as soon as your friends had left the room

"y/n!" the shock on george's face made you giggle

"what?" you laughed "a perfectly normal question if you ask me"

"you are always flirting in near death situations" george rolled his eyes

"yeah" you smiled smugly "but it got you to sleep with me, didn't it?"

"oh my god" george hid his face in his hands

"shit" your words made him look up. the ghost was slowly materialising again. you losened your belt, holding it in george's direction

"are you getting undressed?" george asked and his voice seemed to be a pitch higher than usual

"no" you dragged the word out "the belt is filled with saltbombs. i want you to get behind him and throw it, in case my plan doesn't work"

"what plan?"

"just do it, darling" george complied hesitantely, but did eventually walk across the room, behind the patch where the ghost was slowly coming back.

"hello" you muttered "maddy already told us about you"

"a talker" the ghost bid back, in a voice that send shivers down your spine. he seemed to be intrigued by you, which held him back from attacking you. well at least for now. "did she now?"

"she's scared of you"

"did you destroy her?" he was a lot calmer than he was before, george noticed, so he relaxed a bit, having new found trust in your abilities

"no" you said, truthfully "her mum is moving. she couldn't leave her behind" you explained "where did you come from? you weren't mentioned"

"i wasn't mentioned?" he repeated, laughing sarcastically "this is my house. i was here before any of you were even born" he screamed the last part and george was ready to throw the belt.

not yet, you mouthed in his direction. "we want to find your source. you'll be at peace" you said

"you want to destroy me" the ghost corrected angrily, but to george's surprise you didn't falter at his tone, but rather matched it.

"we want to save you" you said between clenched teeth "there's a clear difference there. let us help"

"you can't fool me" the ghost laughed

"fighting me is a lost cause" you crossed your arms "we got the best listener in the country. she will find your source and any fight will be in vain"

"you're foolish" the ghost muttered "you can talk to us and you don't use it for bigger things? we could rule the world" he clenched his fist, raising it diabotically.

"sorry" you smiled "i have a date at seven"

in the exact same second, as the ghost began charging at you, lucy called from the next room. do it you mouthed in george's direction. "contain it!" you called to the next room, moving on your feet quickly, to dodge the ghost's closer coming form.

george threw the saltbombs and a second later, the ghost disappeared. lockwood and lucy came back into the room. lucy held up the silver net, which was wrapped around a book.

"the bible" she said "who would've thought?"

"i don't care about his source" you shrugged your shoulders "let's get maddy back to her mum"

your friends nodded. leaving the house close behind you. ghosts like the second one where the true threat to your world, but maddy was the opposite. you didn't use your powers in a wrong way, like the man had claimed. you were doing the right thing with them. helping people who weren't able to help themselves.

on the way out you interlaced yours and george's fingers, thankful that the world you were living in had at least brought you both together.

[lewkwoodnco]

You look like shit - Lockwood x Reader

One time you told lockwood he looked like shit and four times he told you you looked like shit

“You look like shit.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re in a hospital bed but I’m the one who looks like shit.”

“Exactly, you look spectacularly terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“I tried, but my sorry excuse of a boss got his ass kicked by some Type Two, so here I am.”

“Doesn’t your sorry excuse of a boss write your cheques?”

“Have I mentioned how fond I am of my sorry excuse of a boss?”

a/n: just a little drabble i typed up having been inspired by this post :)

tropes/warnings: mostly fluffy, some mentions of grief, slight description of injury, smidge of flirty-ish banter 🙈🙈

wc: 1.5k!

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

“You look like shit.”

Lockwood froze with his mug halfway to his mouth. He gaped at her briefly before setting the mug down once the shock passed. She was Lockwood & Co.'s newest employee and it was only recently that the ice had been sufficiently broken for their interactions to evolve into something more than a passing smile or greeting. This, however, was more than he had expected. He was possessed by a sudden overwhelming urge to laugh.

"It's like, 10 in the morning, and you already look exhausted. Do you ever sleep?"

He struggled with his words for a moment. "...yes. Sometimes."

"Not enough, clearly."

He did look especially worse for wear that morning. Only just recovering from a mild flu, his insomnia was at an all-time high and the lack of sun over the past week had his skin looking nearly transparent. He was a frail, washed-out thing flitting restlessly between rooms, bemoaning all the cases he was missing out on while cooped up here.

He smiled for what felt like the first time in days. She coughed, embarrassed, feeling like she had grossly overstepped.

"I mean...you don't look that horrible."

Fortunately, Lucy chose that exact moment to walk in and sufficiently distract Lockwood with the details of their newest case and she took the opportunity to duck out of the room. What the hell had she been thinking?

"H- oh, you look like shit."

She emerged from behind the counter through a cloud of steam, her hair resting on her shoulders like a large, frizzy, brittle rat. While he and George had spent the morning at the Archives, she had spent it at Portland Row preparing Fesenjān for their lunch as part of some stupid bet she had made with George.

"Oh, good, you're back. You took your time."

"George is still there so Lucy's going in to hel-"

She cut him off by shoving a spoon of hot stew into his mouth.

"Taste."

Lockwood spluttered around the spoon, mouth working furiously to cool the scalding food while she watched him intently.

"Well?"

"It's...it's good."

"As good as George's?"

He grimaced. "I don't think I should be taking sides in this." He didn't even want to think about George finding out.

"This isn't taking sides. But also, if anyone asks, you weren't here. So...?" She fixed a desperate look on him. Lockwood sighed.

"It could use a little more salt."

"Angel." She turned around, pulling out the salt while he watched her with a flicker of amusement in his eyes. The crazy hair suited her in some odd way.

“You look like shit.”

He had meant for it to come out as teasing but at the sight of her tearstained face, it sounded terribly mean. He had found her sitting on the front steps late one evening when he was about to turn in, only a thin hoodie insulating her from the harsh cold. Her head whipped around at the sound of his voice, a hand carelessly dragged across her face. He took a seat next to her, dropping his voice.

"Everything alright?"

She swallowed, eyes trained on their shoes. Her voice was hoarse with disuse.

"One of my friends moved away a couple of years back. She's been in an accident."

"How bad of an accident?"

There was a tightness in her chest that made it difficult to go on. "The worst."

In a rare moment of weakness, she crumbled, sagging against Lockwood like she had no spine left to hold herself upright. He wrapped a warm, comforting arm around her, and the simple gesture was enough to break her down. She cried into his shirt, cried for the friend she would never see again, cried for the part of her childhood that had chipped off and floated away into some abyss. Cried while he held her.

"I can't -" she hiccuped, unable to hold back a poorly concealed sob. "I can't even remember the last thing I said to her." It felt like an awful thing to admit, something sinful and evil, something that made it impossible for her to shake the tremble from her hands. His hold on her tightened a fraction, like he was holding her shattered pieces together, and she clung to his shirt with all the despair of a shipwrecked passenger.

Maybe it was selfish, but she didn't want him to leave. And so he stayed.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

They had just returned from a job at some old, abandoned building set to be torn down in a few months. George and Lucy were handling some other case at the other end of the city, so the sounds of them shucking off their coats and gear echoed through the empty house. Between the two of them, she was always more prone to going ham on their cases. Today, it was in the form of her barrelling full tilt through a series of cobwebs to serve as a distraction. The case had ended with Lockwood hurriedly bagging the Source and her pink-faced and speckled with the grey strings.

Back at Portland Row's kitchen, there was still a lingering tinge of warmth to her cheeks. Lockwood paused by the cupboard where she was pulling out some mugs and plates, idly picking off the remaining strands still loosely clinging to her hair and shoulders. As his movements slowed, fading into something more gentle and meticulous, she glanced at him. He looked back. The cobwebs now littered the little space between them, but still he did not move away. The back of her neck prickled under his wretchedly attentive gaze. She did not know how to look away.

"Tea?" she croaked out, throat embarrassingly taut with choked-back emotion.

Whatever spell that had settled over them broke. Lockwood reeled back, almost noisily busying himself with fishing out the biscuit tin, forcing something nonchalant into his voice.

"Sure."

They spent the rest of their night operating with an invisible bubble between them, neither of them daring to get too close to the other lest a brush of the hand shattered the pallid illusion they were play-acting in. The house was far too quiet that night, filled with the unbearably soothing sounds of their cutlery, the rain and their breathing. Lockwood fiddled with his mug. She scratched at a particularly obscene message etched into the thinking cloth. He dragged a shoe along the scuffed kitchen floors. She drummed her fingers restlessly, watching the seconds tick by excruciatingly slow on the clock.

Where the hell were George and Lucy?

“You look like shit.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You’re in a hospital bed but I’m the one who looks like shit.”

She was in a gleaming, sterile hospital room, painfully twisted into some uncomfortable plastic chair after a night of fitful sleep and checking to make sure Lockwood was still alive. Lockwood had gone out for a solo case and she had been waiting up, expecting him to return any minute when the hospital called. Luckily, it was nothing fatal, but enough to keep him out of commission for a while. Enough to make her worry.

“Exactly, you look spectacularly terrible. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“I tried, but my sorry excuse of a boss got his ass kicked by some Type Two, so here I am.”

“Doesn’t your sorry excuse of a boss write your cheques?”

“Have I mentioned how fond I am of my sorry excuse of a boss?”

He quirked a smile at that, then immediately winced. She lightly tilted his bruised face just as he raised a tentative hand to the stitches on his lip, their fingers brushing against each other for a fraction of a second. He looked at her questioningly, unable to see how it was healing himself, and she thought it was extremely unfair to have eyes as disarming as his. She shoved down the stab of sympathy at the unexpectedly vulnerable sight. Hospital gowns really did a number on how strong, or lack thereof, a patient seemed.

“Poor baby. Do you need someone to kiss it better?”

“You could kiss me better.”

“You…are clearly still concussed. Where on earth is your nurse?”

She stood and busied herself by sticking her head out the door and looking for his nurse, which was most definitely not an attempt to hide the flush creeping up her neck. After a few minutes of futile searching, she returned, alarmed at how wan Lockwood was starting to seem.

“I don’t remember getting a concussion,” he murmured, closing his aching eyes.

“Of course you wouldn’t. That’s how concussions work. Idiot.” She tried to keep her tone light, but he cracked an eye open as if he had heard something in her voice. He slipped her fingers through hers casually and she felt the tension in his stiff shoulders ease.

"You should sleep," she tried gently. His thumb slowly traced hers drowsily. Still, he forced his eyes open with considerable effort. Looked at her like she was all he wanted to see for the rest of his life.

"In a minute."

It was the first of the lifetime of minutes ahead of them.

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