Lockwood and Co. One Shots

Neighbor? - Kipps x M!Reader

requested by The_Number_Four   (this is part one!)

It was the night of my twentieth birthday when I got my first apartment. I wasn't hiding or doing any heinous crimes, it was just night time.

The landlord thought I was a visitor at first when I knocked on his door at midnight, asking for an apartment. I paid him a month's rent outright and he just handed me a key.

Apartment 3b. Third floor apartment facing the street. Flickers of ghouls and apparitions would come and go from my eyes.

My talent was fading and I needed a new life fast. I was a special case, I was nineteen with talent still when I got the job. I left Lockwood and Co. two days ago after working there for a year. No one would hire a nineteen year old with fading talent, especially not one with a record of ruining agencies.

Let me explain, it's not my fault that I always get blamed for the deaths of my team. I had better abilities than anyone I know, even Lucy. No one believed that the ghosts were harmless when I specifically said that it was a type two and not a type one.

No one trusted me because I have been to over five agencies in the past seven years. Lockwood and Co. was my sixth and last agency.

I left because it became too much. I was more of a liability than an asset. No one will know I'm gone until the morning. And I'm hoping that they don't come looking for me.

My first impression of this apartment was that it was very drab. It wasn't messy or horrific like a city apartment described in books, with bugs or rats. It was a one bedroom apartment with a large enough kitchen to satisfy myself.

I'd need a new job, maybe Satchell's or Fairfax's. The iron company was still going strong even after Sir John keeled over from being ghost touched.

I just needed a job that was low on the radar. I didn't need anyone to find me, or anyone I knew to spot me. I needed to grow out a beard or something, change my looks. Maybe dye my hair. Everyone would be looking for a mediocre guy with a clean shaven face and a rapier strapped to their hip.

My apartment had a boring couch in the living room and a plain, small bed in the bedroom.

It was enough to live in I guess. I did learn that the guy in the apartment next to me had frequent nightmares. Apartment 3a. I never saw anyone go in or out of the apartment, not even in the wee hours of the morning or the afternoon or the middle of the night.

I spent four days in my apartment cleaning and organizing before I went looking for a job.

Satchell's said they weren't hiring. Fairfax's wouldn't hire me because I had Lockwood and Co. in my resume.

I even tried a cafe across the street from my apartment. No one wanted me.

I think being a relic trader would be easier. I knew where to get dangerous sources from. I could easily sell them.

On the tenth day, I heard the guy in the apartment next to me leaving through our connected fire escape. It was barely morning and the sun was just coming up.

"Wait," I called out to him. "What's your deal?"

His body tensed and something about him looked familiar. He didn't turn around though, his hair and face were hidden by a really ugly hat.

"You leave through a window. You're never home and when you are, you're always screaming. So, what's your deal?" I asked. This guy was really messing with my sleep schedules. Maybe no one wanted to hire me because I already looked dead from a lack of sleep.