Sigma X Reader - Blog Posts

Sigma X !GN Reader

YEP, GUESS WHO JUST CRANKED OUT 1K WORDS IN LIKE TWO HOURS?? Fair warning, not much romance here, but I tried. ;-;

*~~*

His heels clicked as he walked down the hallway, glancing occasionally into the rooms with a tilt of his head to perform any final inspections.

Opening the door at the end, he barely stumbled into his office from exhaustion. Sigma knew he still had paperwork to file, lying on his desk in stacks, so he began the excruciating walk, just ready to get the day over with.

…Until a polite cough came from the entrance.

From you, who was stationed near the door as the guard for his office. He whipped his head around, giving an embarrassed chuckle before beginning:

“Ah.. good evening. I had to come later than usual," He explained, staring at you curiously. “Er, I believe another guard should have come for the night shift, yes..?”

“I took it,’’ You answered smoothly. “They had some family work to attend to. I apologise for not informing you earlier, this came into my attention quite recently.”

His brows furrowed. “Why not give the shift to—?”

“The guards you normally trust are either on vacation, or general leaves. I was the only one available, so..”

He shook his head. “You shouldn't overwork yourself, though.”

You gave a polite smile. “Please, don't worry about me.”

Seeing as you wouldn't budge, Sigma sighed and just walked over to his desk, flopping down onto his chair to begin. But, instead of providing his entire focus into the paperwork, his thoughts ranged from any errors to schedule delays to now you.

How come the night shift guard hadn't informed him of their situation, and that they could not work tonight? Sigma would have been fine without a guard for the night. But instead, they informed you to cover.

Scribbling his signature onto a document, he placed it onto a pile of papers before moving on to the next from the stack.

Had the guards been overworked?

Indeed, his usual guards had been on leaves; he'd memorized all the details by heart—the casino and his employees as extension were his family, after all.

He glanced up from the paperwork, moving his gaze to you.

“I insist again, you should—”

“I’m fine, sir.” Your hands move to your handgun. “Your safety is the priority.”

He dragged his eyes back onto the file, running his fingers through his silver-lilac hair. “It’s.. really rare to need such protection, especially this late into the day. I must emphasize, your pay won't be affected if you leave. Of course, you'll be compensated with overtime wages if—”

“It’s not the money,” You interrupted quietly. “I.. just want to, y’know?”

His hand slowly left his hair, his eyes blinking in confusion as you two locked stares. “What..?”

Shifting on your feet, you looked at the floor. “...Yeah.”

His brows furrowed as he tried to figure out this puzzle you'd just presented over to him. You'd work the night shift just ‘cause?

From what he knew, you lived in the casino permanently as he did, which was unlike the rest of the employees, who had families and homes in actual countries. There wasn't much in your file referencing to your past, and while that was intriguing, he never questioned it to avoid making you uncomfortable. Heaven knows how awkward he feels when someone asks him of such.

Slowly, you rose through the ranks and he gave you the duty to guard his office along with a few other trusted members.

“...Why don't you take vacations?” He asked, his tone quiet, matching yours.

Your head snapped to him, and you took a few seconds before responding: “I do take holidays, don't I?”

“Not in the way others do,” He murmured, suddenly gaining confidence. “They leave the casino to visit their friends and family in the countries below, but you…”

“...don't really have anyone,” You finished his sentence. Taking in his shocked expression, you explained, “Down there, I mean.”

Sigma slowly stood from his office chair, his eyes still widened. “What do you mean you have no one?”

“Just a combination of.. coincidental events, leaving me with no direct family.” You rubbed your temple. “It has its upsides though, right? Not having to take vacations to visit them..?”

“Everyone wants a place they can call a home!” He moved around the desk, his coat swaying as he walked over.

“You’re right.”

Hearing you, his steps faltered.

“...Like how you call the casino home, so do I.”

He straightened, fixing his gaze on you. He tried to find words to answer, but found none.

You gave a small smile. “Everyone has different stories as to why they're where they are; I’m sure you do too. But the place I now find myself in? I couldn't be more grateful. Especially for a manager that is so regularly concerned for the well-being of his employees.”

Slowly lowering his gaze from you onto the floor, he swallowed before answering, “...Why wouldn't I?”

You laughed slightly, making him stare back in confusion. “Managers usually don't care that much. You're really appreciated for all the work you do around, actually. Hell, we’re all concerned for you.”

“R..” He slowly began walking again. “Really?”

You closed your eyes, sighing. “Of cou—”

Your breath hitched as you felt arms wrapping around your torso. His scent, a lavender cologne, enveloped your senses as you tried to understand the sudden contact.

Slowly, your arms encircled his neck, and you felt him burying his face onto your head, his hands trembling as he squeezed you further.

“I.. I appreciate you all too. This casino.. it's my home, like you,” He mumbled into your hair.

Your eyes widened, and you couldn't help but smile.

“But please, retire to your room.” He pulled back just enough to give a determined look into your eyes.

“...Fine.” You looked back, your grip on his shoulders steady. “But you'll have to leave too.”

“H-huh..?” He tilted his head.

“Get some sleep, sir.” You smiled a little wider.

He blinked, turning his head to look back at his desk, glancing at the files. Then he fixed his gaze back at you, and gave a genuine laugh.

“Ah, fine.”

the things they do when they love you

⤷ ft. dazai, chuuya, ranpo, fyodor, sigma, tecchou, jouno

dazai always needs to be touching you. he starts his day with his forehead against yours in the comfort of his futon, legs tangled together. he barely makes it through work by playing footsie with you under his desk, resisting the urge to shower you with love under kunikida’s watchful eye. on the walk home, his hand lingers on the small of your back as he guides you through the crowded street, careful to not let anyone bump into you. and when it’s time to rest again, you strip him of his bandages and trace your fingertips along his forearms and wrists, trailing kisses down skin that haven’t felt human touch in who knows how long, making up for all the little touches he gave you through the day.

chuuya spoils you rotten. he has money to spare, and has no problems adding your needs into his monthly budget, but he spoils you in other, non-financial ways too. he notices the bags under your eyes, and turns off your alarm so you can get an extra few minutes of sleep, keeping track of the time so you aren’t late. he warms up your towels in the dryer while you’re in the shower so you won’t be cold when you get out. he’ll watch that one show you like, as corny as it may be, because he wouldn’t miss you laughing so prettily at the stupid jokes for the world.

ranpo compares everyone else to you. for someone who thought he was the greatest, he really loved to talk about how great you were. “y/n’s coffee tastes better.” he comments with a shrug to the waitress, who has no idea who you are. “that would look so cute on y/n!” when yosano is showing him the new shirt she bought, much to her disdain. “you’re so boring! why can’t y/n be here instead.” he pouts in front of the witness he’s interviewing. there may or may not be a group of people in yokohama who unintentionally hate you.

fyodor asks what you think — not just about his work, about everything. he wants to pick your brain apart and analyze everything about you, from how you like your tea to your opinion on how greek philosophy influenced modern christianity. he wants to be the only one who knows you so well; it only seems fair when he feels so annoyingly vulnerable around you, knowing you’ve captured his heart.

sigma lets his guard down around you. you never have an ulterior motive or try to read him. you ask questions about himself out of pure curiosity, and in return he tries to memorize everything he can about you. there’s so much he doesn’t know, and you teach him as much as you can; not so you can use him, but because you want him to experience life to the fullest. when you wrap your arms around him, letting him rest his head on top of yours, he can’t help but think about how long he’s dreamed of this, and now he finally has it: his home.

tecchou looks at you, almost always. you can’t ignore the tingly feeling of his eyes on you as you’re folding laundry or brushing your hair. when you ask him, you half expect him to blink and snap out of it, but he never does. “i like looking at you. you’re pretty.” is what he always says, gaze never straying from behind his messy bangs.

jouno listens to every part of you. while the extra noise that comes with his ability is bothersome, your sounds calm him. any irregularity in your heartbeat or your breathing makes a nervousness he isn’t used to surge through his body. he can’t help but feel prideful at the way your heartbeat is so calm when your fingers, so much softer than any fabric, brush against his own. he can’t see you, but he can hear the blood rush to your cheeks and the smile in your voice when you talk to him about your day.