Sevika X Reader (Angst)

Down on your luck (introduction)

The dawn broke the stillness on the dock. Gulls russtled on the decks of many ships above, their cawing woke you up. Your legs are sore, throat dry, and stomach empty. The salty air, which once you found exciting, and new, stung your lungs. You thought of your first day in the Undercity after you were banished from Noxis: It was your first time on a boat, and your first time seeing the ocean. It humbled you, in a deep, resonating way. Now, ten years later, the humbling, resonating feeling is hunger. 

The smog is thick on the horizon line, and fisherman are starting to come out for work. Their footsteps cause the warped decks to moan a goodmorning yawn. You stand up and stretch, and crack your back swinging side to side. You look around you, at the collumbs of wood keeping the docks up; above you, at the underbelly of the dock; straight forward, the tide coming in. Silence and privacy are hard things to find here, especially when your housing situation is... fluid. It had been a while since your last job, a really long while. This sort of thing didn't use to be an issue, you used to be a top-class copetitive fighter. Until your accident six months ago, where... anyway, you don't like to talk about it. 

The water is clear, you take the opportunity to bathe and wash your clothes. Top trick for being an 'inbetween-jobs' executive; always have a bar of soap with you. You never know when you'll have access to a shower. It's summer, your clothes won't take long to dry. Maybe a drunk sailor will look down at you, and claim to see a mermaid. 

The next steps for the day are less fanciful, more desperate. Finding food is a top priority, along with safe drinking water. Of course there are jobs you could take, one employer especially fancies you. But, no matter what, no matter how little you have to claim as your own, you will never work for the crime boss king of this hell-hole: Silco. Not after what he did. 

- - - 

Your brother used to say stealing is sometimes justified, and now is one of those times because this Piltover bakery is just begging to be picked over. Who puts out fresh baked goods first thing in the morning and assumes people won't take it? The only people who would bother to pay are those with so much disposeable income they can spend it on charming clothing, clean haircuts, shoes that fit: The people that live in the adjoining city of Piltover. This neighborhood was just over the border, so you grabbed a couple conchas and got the fuck out of dodge aladin-style. Looking behind you, the golden morning sunlight reflected off the white buildings, clean streets. These sights grew smaller and smaller as you ran back to the edge of the cliff signaling the end of Piltover, and the start of the Undercity. Luckily, no one had seen you help yourself to breakfast, but let's not tempt fate and wait around. 

Now just because you were born in Noxus doesn't make you a tourist, this city is as familiar to you as the battle scars on your fists. No need to look when you jumped off the cliff, you knew exactly where the nearest roof was to land on, then the next. It's a good sixty foot drop, but if you know what you're doing it's not too dangerous. You wonder what the people who live under these roofs that are commonly used as human landing pads feel about the commotion; then you remember there's not a safe way for Undercity dwellers to go between cities and making some noise is unavoidable. That is unfortunate, as you're supposed to be laying low. Everyone works for the Boss 'round here, and if you don't you're a junkie. Being able bodied, trained in a skill, and not on Silco's side was rare. The only other crew you knew of opperating down here was the Firelights, which you would gladly join if you didn't have a personal childhood fued with The Boy Savior Mr Know It All Started A Collective And Saves Lives, Ekko. 

Anyway, not having an offiliation was suspicious to say the least. The only place that would accept your talents regardless of your lack of group loyalty was the infamous Brothel. The owner knew you when you were a kid, and hired you to clean the place in the morning hours. The pay is horrible, and the things you see, and smell... my god. But money is money, and working there means hanging out by the bar at night waiting for someone to feel gracious enough to buy you a drink. You've scored a place to stay for the night doing that once or twice. 

Today's cleanup is unordinary, mostly laundry and mopping. The rooms look out of place with the overhead lights on. You start with the private rooms, making your way back to the bar and offices. The bartender, Linx, is a fucking asshole who leaves the worst of the cleanup for you. What kind of bartender doesn't take care of the bar? Jesus Christ, you could do a better job than him with your eyes closed. But no, bartender status would be to visible. 

The day creeps on, it's almost noon now. The last room is secret, for Silco's top employees. It has some couches, chairs, and tables, and a record player. Most importantly, sets of cards. Major gambling goes down in this room, I'm talking thousands upon thousands of dollars lost and won. You swing the door open, mop and bucked in your other hand, and nearly drop them in surprise: there's a woman here, passed out, face down on a couch. She's tall and muscular, with a half tied up bob. Her left arm droops to the floor, it's made of a brassy metal. Her back rises and falls, slowly. Peacefully. The light catches her shirt and you think it must be cotton, soft and warm. 

This is quite unusual, there's supposed to be a bouncer who kicks everyone out around three AM. 

Taking a risk, you put down the bucket and mop and kneel before her. Your hands shake, because you know who this is. Silco's number two, his henchman. You put your hand on her shoulder, and shake it gently, saying

"Good morning, Sevika. It's actually good evening, it's noon. May I help you back to your place? We've been closed for... eleven hours. Oh-" She groans and turns over, the distance between your faces too small for comfort. Her face is sturdy, and sharp. Her nose is elegant, jutting out from her face in a perfectly straight line. There's black lipstick smudged on her lips, and in a streak heading away from her lips. Her brow is furrowed, and serious. And her eyes, oh her eyes. They're light brown, and stairing right into yours. You rarely get the chance to look into her eyes, she's always busy and much too intimidating to stare at. There's a charcoal eyeliner around them, it makes their eyes seem even brighter. At any other time in the day, these eyes would make you want to turn and run. But now, they're soft and sleepy. She moves her lips and you realize it's been almost a full minute you've been taking in her features. She says,

"You're that fighter... the one who-" Not this again.

"Yeah, yeah we've all heard it, get up already I'll help you out." You stand up, grabbing her arm and hefting her into an upright position. 

"Tell me the way, Boss Lady" She's really struggling to walk, maybe she's still drunk.

"South four blocks please... thank you... what's your name?"

"Y/N... Don't tell Silco I helped you out, or the next time I find you passed out I'll just leave you."

"This stays between us then, baby" Yeah... she's definitely still drunk. Her hand, which had been on your shoulder keeping her steady, traveled south to your ass. Nothing like a little drunken sexual harassment on noon on a tuesday. But it will be worth it, because Sevika will need to sleep this stupor off, which means you'll be in their appartment unsupervised. Which means, a real, honest to god, shower.