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worksofthedaemon · 4 years

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Salt & Lime

Reno x Reader mini-fic

It was supposed to be a drabble.... and now it’s not, sorry *Shrugs* So I don’t know if I’m 100% happy, BUT I had a whole lotta fun writing this. I was chatting in a FFVII fandom group chat about the Turk’s drinks of choice, and most of us were in agreement that Reno is a fan of tequila. And I guess thats where this came from! Theres also a healthy dose of canon Rude crushing on Tifa ok sorry

I hope you enjoy uwu

In the growing late Friday evening, a pleasant buzz filled the air in Seventh Heaven. Tifa was hard at work behind the bar; serving the regular punters, managing the riff-raff, brandishing gloved fists at the troublemakers, and barely a moment to polish glassware in between.

Rude looked silently on from his seat at the end of the bar, giving him a clear view of the door, so he could monitor those coming and going, with a pleasant bonus of the dark haired girl behind the bar. The latter of which he was too proud to admit. Reno, however, saw right through his facade - and boy did he like to tease his partner. The second-in-command Turk sat adjacent to Rude, back to the door, leaning heavily on one elbow propped up on the bar. Shirt uneven and mostly unbuttoned, a stark contrast to Rude’s sharp appearance, who even after hours, maintained a straight tie and regularly checked his cuff-links.

Reno poorly hid his smirk behind his beer as he took a gulp from the bottle. He followed Rude’s gaze, masked by the shades he wore, as Tifa collected the empties on the bar and walked away with a customer service smile. Reno cleared his throat, and Rude snapped back to attention, averting his now chagrined expression away from his partner, catching a nervous cough in his gloved hand.

Chuckling, Reno reached out to harmlessly jab his partners shoulder. “Yo, ease up. Your secret’s safe with me. Although…” Reno trailed off, glancing at Tifa, now serving the other patrons. “It won’t be much of a secret anymore if you keep being so goddamn obvious.”

Rude refused to meet his partner’s eyes. “Don’t be absurd. I have nothi-”,

“You gotta make a move sooner or later though. This tension is killing me, man.” Reno pretended not to hear, as he continued to lecture Rude about his crush. “Just call her over and ask her out - I’ll do it for you! Hey, Tif! Rude wants to-”

Rude immediately clapped a hand over Reno’s mouth before he could do any more damage, however, Tifa had already heard her name amidst the commotion and had turned her attention to the two of them, a perplexed look on her face.

“Did you guys need something?” She asked, hands on her hips.

Rude dropped his hand from the other Turk’s mouth, revealing the annoying grin hidden there, and cleared his throat. “My apologies.”

Before she could turn away, Reno said, “My partner here was just going to order another round, and offer you a drink. Ain’t that right, Rude?”

Rude sighed, pulling his card from his breast pocket and placed it on the bar before Tifa. “That’s correct.”

Tifa paused, glancing between the two of them, before shrugging and collecting the card. “Why the hell not? Another single malt on the rocks and a house beer, coming right up.”, she declared, waltzing away. Basking in the awkward exchange he had caused, Reno drained the last drops of his beer and spun the bottle on the bar top. Rude looked like he was going to chide him, but instead he diverted his attention with a sidelong glance at the door. It was his turn to smirk.

“Time to practise what you preach.”

Puzzled, Reno glanced over his shoulder to see who had entered the bar.

You strolled into Seventh Heaven, looking forward to that glass of wine that had been on your mind since you left work. Working repairs and maintenance at the weapon store wasn’t exactly a strenuous job, but it was a tedious and mentally draining one. Especially since, recently, the number of monsters spotted in the outskirts of the slums had been increasing as of late. Naturally, that meant more work for you. Not to mention the newly nested drakes in the warehouses. Business was booming, your pockets were heavy from the bonus you received, but it sure was tiring, and more than warranted a trip to your local bar after a long week of being hunched over gun grease and blow torches.

Tifa met you with a bright smile and a wave as you approached, already reaching for the wine glasses hanging above to prepare your usual. You returned her smile, adding a two finger salute. It was then you registered the familiar shock of red hair from the corner of your eye. As usual, the same pair of Turks were seated at the far left side of the bar. They had been coming in for the past couple of months, though weren’t exactly sure why. Your best guess was that they weren’t under a watchful eye while down in the slums, no one to keep tabs on them while off duty. You were acquainted with them, occasionally chatted to them in passing when you ordered your drink. Well, chatted to the redhead at least. His partner was more akin to a chiselled statue than a man, and spoke as openly as one. Reno, on the other hand, over compensated for Rude’s lack of small talk. You had learned each of their names from Tifa, and Reno had coaxed your own from you after your third encounter at the bar. On the condition that he bought you a drink, of course. Typically, you didn’t like company, you preferred your own space, some time to clear your head after work. Nevertheless, you weren’t completely opposed to Reno’s efforts to socialise, and he was very easy on the eye.

Upon reaching the bar, you threw your phone down on top of it, shortly joined by the finger-less gloves you proceeded to tear from your hands. Tifa placed a glass of wine down in front of you, pursing her lips while she waited for you to take a sip. She never charged you for your drinks, since you did a lot of weapon repairs for them as a favour. You weren’t exactly a member of Avalanche, but you were friends with them, and did what you could to help out in a way you knew how without being directly involved. In return, Tifa waved your bar tab and hooked you up with a place at Stargazer Heights to stay.

You picked up the glass, closing your eyes for a moment and savoured the crisp, oaky aromas that rose from the glass contents. Bringing the glass to your lips and taking a generous mouthful, you swallowed slowly, nodding your approval.

“Wow, Tifa, I’m impressed! Where did you steal this?” You accused, jokingly.

Tifa clapped her hands together and laughed lightly. “It came from Wall Market!” She leaned forward slightly and cupped a hand over her mouth, adding with a whisper, “A crate of it fell from the Don’s cargo.”

You raised your eyebrows and gasped in exaggerated surprise. “Oh my, what a shame! Well, I suppose we’ll have to make the most of it, huh?”

From the opposite end of the bar, you caught sight of Reno, clearly listening in to your conversation. He was jabbing Rude in the ribs with an elbow and no doubt saying something cringe-worthy, as Rude’s reaction was to pinch the bridge of his nose,his lips forming a thin, disapproving frown.

“Has Rude made a move yet?” You chided, playfully.

Tifa ‘tsked’ and rolled her eyes. “No, just the usual pleasantries. Can’t say the same for him though. He’s up to no good...” She made no gesture but it was clear that the ‘him’ implied Reno.

You smiled, knowingly. Reno loved to get under his partner’s skin, listening to them converse for a mere five minutes was enough to discern that much. You had neglected to admit that you liked Reno and hadn’t mentioned it to a soul. He was a Turk, and that was a huge problem. As far as first impressions go, you were seemingly cold towards people, so it was easy enough to shrug him off at first. However, that did not deter Reno, and he persistently flirted with you. You had picked up on it around a month ago. Not that you minded, but you knew for a fact you couldn’t get involved with a Turk. Despite this, you certainly couldn’t stop your mind from wandering to some particularly daring places.

“Well, I’ll go take my regular spot.” You stated, mentally shoving your forbidden thoughts to a vault in your mind. Sweeping up your phone and gloves from the bar top as you turned to go, you paused, twisting back towards Tifa, swilling the wine in your glass and adding, “I’ll be back for more of this, it’s amazing.”

Tifa simply nodded with acknowledgement, and went back to serving the Turks. Turning, you caught Reno’s eye, who was giving you a once over. You weren’t dressed-up in the slightest. Although, rocking your work clothes, you supposed the combat pants and cropped shirt you wore gave him a decent view of your defined shape. You couldn’t hide the half smile that twitched at the corner of your lips before walking over to your usual seat.

Reno watched as you sauntered over to a seat at the round table near the window, your back to the jukebox. Absentmindedly, he rubbed the knuckle of his thumb over his bottom lip in contemplation.

Tifa had returned with their drinks, and she hesitated when placing the bottle down in front of Reno, regarding the red haired Turk seemingly deep in thought. She tilted her head, blinking down at him, then peered over at where you had gone to take a seat. Tifa swallowed a giggle as Reno brought his attention back down to earth.

“And just what exactly are you scheming?” Tifa examined him with a grin filled with scrutiny.

Rude stared into his glass, tipping it this way and that so the singular ice cube knocked around the inside of the tumbler. He shook his head. “Nothing good.”

As if to reinforce his statement, Reno fished out his card, and held it out for Tifa to take. “Keep hold of this. Say, Tifa, what’s your best tequila?”

Thunk. The dart missed the triple twenty zone by a thread, resulting instead with a measly twenty. Rolling your eyes, you plucked the darts from the board and chalked your score. Just gotta beat Wedge, you thought, readying your next throw. Behind you, the clinking of glass settling on the table behind you caused you to divert your focus, the dart slipping from your fingertips sooner than anticipated. You stared begrudgingly as it struck the centre of the ‘0’ in twenty.

Spinning on your heel, you registered the unexpected sight of Reno settling into a chair at your table, placing a bottle and two shot glasses upon it. The expression he wore was a smug one.

You met his eyes with a leer, holding his gaze for a moment. His implied offer was more appealing to you than you cared to admit. You debated just flat out refusing, but instead, tentatively returning your attention back to the dart board and raised your hand for another throw. Reno rested his chin on an upturned palm, glazing over your dismissive attitude at his unspoken proposition.

“Come on, just a few drinks. Indulge me.”

You sighed, heavily. “And what do I owe you if I do?” You threw a dart. Double eighteen.

The Turk innocently raised his hands. “Oh please, I’m not that kinda guy.”

You arched a brow.

Reno looked offended. “Don’t give me that look. I can be an asshole, but not that kind of asshole.” He gestured to the shot glasses with a curt head tilt.

You shot a quick glance at the bar, where Tifa stood watching the scene play out. Rude averted his gaze, pretending to straighten his tie. You stood for a moment, curling your lip. Decidedly, you stepped up to the dart board to retrieve the two darts, along with another set from the pocket next to the scoreboard, and returned to your table. Reno’s grin widened when you took a seat nearest to his. You placed the newly acquired set of darts down in front of him, and grabbed the bottle he had placed on the table.

“Tequila, huh.” You commented, skimming the label.

Reno lifted a dart with his index finger, balancing it on the tip. “To your liking, I hope?”

You shrug. “I’m partial to tequila.” You placed the bottle down. “Sure. I’ll drink with you. On one condition.”

The Turk raised his brow, interest piqued.

You flick the dart up from where it balanced on Reno’s finger and snatched it out of the air, brandishing the point at him. “Beat me at a game of darts, fewest throws to three-o-one. Then we’ll drink.”

Reno appeared to be calculating your offer. He poked at a shot glass. “Sure you don’t want a warm up drink?” You snorted. “And have you beat because your aim is off? Don’t shoot yourself in foot, hotshot.”

He threw his head back, “Ha! Take me for a light-weight? I can assure ya, you’ll be the one crawling to keep up once we get into this.” He shook the bottle for emphasis.

You shook your head, a confident grin on your face. “You should not underestimate me.”

“Oh trust me, I don’t.” Reno affirmed, rising from his seat, hand pushing away from the table.

Dart still in hand, you clasped your free hand over his and slammed the dart point first between the splayed fingers of Reno’s hand and into the weathered wood of the table. “Not so fast.” You picked up your wine glass, a few drops at the bottom, and held it out to him. “Go get me another wine first.”

Reno held your gaze as he took the wine glass from you, his hand lingering on yours for an extra breath. “Yes, ma’am.”

Waiting until the Turk left the table and got to the bar, you expelled a breath you didn’t realise you’d been holding. What am I doing?! A thought in your brain flared out as you went to reset the scores, wiping the board clean. You couldn’t deny the excitement you felt at the opportunity for a challenge, yet you also couldn’t help but wonder if you were stepping on dangerous ground. He’s a Turk! Your thoughts needle your conscience once more. You brushed your hair back from your face and inhaled a deep breath. “Let’s just have some fun for once.” You muttered under your breath.

Reno returned, full glass in hand, and a fresh bottle of beer for himself. He placed the drinks down, and collected the darts up off the table. “Ladies first.” he announced, gesturing with mock courtesy.

You stepped over to the jukebox, cranking the volume slightly as ‘Fight On’ began to play. You levelled Reno with an icy stare. “Game on, bitch.”

Six darts in and you were tied. Both your own and Reno’s scores sat at 240. His throws had followed yours to the millimetre, his unwavering concentration taking you by surprise. Two more throws could call the round, and despite the casual nature of the game, the competitive pressure had you on edge.

“Your throw, sweet heart.” Reno leaned against the jukebox, sipping his beer.

You stepped up to the hockey, lined up your throw, and shot; One.

Reno scoffed,“Yikes, playing it safe there. I thought you were going to go hard on me.”

You reached for your wine, taking a sip and meeting Reno’s nonchalant gaze over the brim. You hated how much you loved his cocky demeanour, but kept up your cool facade.

“All I need is that triple. You should be shaking in your boots, Turk.”

Much to your disappointment, he didn’t seemed phased as you lined up your next shot. You sucked in a sharp breath, held it. Sights on the triple twenty. In the split second you exhale and loose the dart, you glanced over in Reno’s direction to see if his poker face had faltered. Big mistake. He was staring directly at you, eyes hooded and lips slightly parted. The image of him relaxed there against the jukebox, wearing a deadly expression that caused your heart to lurch and your breath to hitch. Your eyes widened slightly at the placement of the dart in the board and you froze in disbelief. Double twenty.

Sauntering over to you with a swaggering gait, Reno leaned in close enough for you to feel the loose strands of his hair tickle your ear, whispering “Oops, my bad.”

Standing frozen with your back to him, you failed to note his conniving smile.

“You wanna take that last shot or are you going to forfeit to me?”

Visibly grimacing, you ignored his jape and took your last shot. Double ten. You retrieved your darts without a word. Reno finished up with two shots as you looked on in disdain, a triple nineteen followed by a double two, winning by one less dart. Not once did he drop his composure or appear nervous.

“You’re a dirty player, you know that?” You opined, though if challenged you weren’t really sure how to back up that statement.

Reno feigned shock. “I have no idea what you’re implying, but I won fair and square. Unless… you just really wanted that drink, so you let me win.”

“I would never let you win.” You snapped, and Reno raised a brow. You paused. “But I definitely deserve that tequila now.”

He seemed to comply with your statement. “Alright, alright, but let’s take this outside. I need a smoke, and you could probably use some air to cool off.”

You had to bite on your tongue in order to prevent a retort.

Outside, you were in fact thankful for the cool night air on your apparently hot skin. You leaned over the railing while Reno proceeded to light up a cigarette, inhaling a few puffs before setting it down in the ashtray. The smoke wasn’t completely unpleasant, as you caught a passive taste of the menthol that laced it.

Tifa kindly brought your drinks outside, and you both settled into the seats at the small table on the veranda.The redhead reached for the bottle but you snapped it up before he could lay a finger on it, and you inwardly berated yourself for being so fickle. The wine was really hitting you differently tonight. Sure, you were sassy, but this seemed to coat you with a few extra bristles - or maybe it was the circumstances in which you found yourself in, you couldn’t say.

You poured the shots and set the bottle down. You lifted your glass without so much as checking to see if Reno had picked up his, when suddenly he raised a finger to your lips.

“Nah-ah, you can’t just drink it, you’ve got to go all in.” He scolded, taking your shot from you and reaching to a condiment on the table, beside which was a lime wedge resting upon a black napkin.

You chuckled, grinning sheepishly. “Right, because I’m not salty enough?”

The smile Reno gave you in return this time was a light hearted one. “Alright, salt, shot, lime. Got it?”

Rolling your eyes, you said “Yeah yeah, I know the drill.”

Reno scooted his chair closer, holding the salt shaker. He brought his free hand up and licked the base of his thumb before tipping the salt on the slightly glistening skin.

Your stomach felt as if it did a small flip at the sight of this gesture, meaningless as it was, but it was enough to cause you to shudder with a feeling you didn’t want to give voice to. You did the same with your own hand, vaguely noticing the mirth slipping into Reno’s smile as he poured the salt onto your hand. Placing the shaker down and picking up your shots, you raised them between the two of you, pronouncing a simultaneous ‘cheers’.

In one fluid and unanticipated motion, Reno caught your hand, bringing it boldly to his lips and lapped the salt from your skin, a deviousness in his eyes as he winked at you and drained his shot. All you could do was gawp, so stunned by his audacity that you simply watched as he dipped his thumb in the salt on his own hand, and brought the same hand to cup your face, thumb poised on your lips.

Tentatively, you darted your tongue out, allowing it to caress his thumb and taste the sharpness of the salt. Reno’s stare locked onto the movement, and you grasped the opportunity to break his composure. You gently closed your lips around the tip of his thumb, and sucked the remaining salt off with a slight pop. The raw desire that pooled in Reno’s eyes in that moment was satisfying enough for you to warrant it as revenge, his hand dropping without him registering. You knocked back your own shot, enjoying the warmth of the alcohol as it spread through your chest from within.

You held out your hand with an upturned palm, a confident request falling from your tongue. “My lime, please.”

Reno’s piercing blue eyes seemed to penetrate your own, as his lips parted into a smile, revealing the lime wedge clenched between his teeth. Oh, fuck m- However, your intruding thoughts were thrown to the wind as you jumped from your seat, reaching for Reno’s jaw with your already outstretched hand and crashing your lips into his. The Turk tugged at the waistband of your pants to bring you closer, planting your free hand on his exposed chest to prevent you from falling into him, your tongue fighting with his as it withdrew the lime. The juice of the lime tangy and sweet, mixing with the scent of the lingering cigarette smoke, bittersweet and somehow sinful.

You parted from the kiss abruptly, nipping his lip a little before standing back and wiping the juice from your lips. Reno reached up with the napkin to remove the lime from his mouth, his smug grin dripping with mirth.

Now that your mind had a chance to catch up with what had just transpired, you felt an angry blush blooming on your cheeks. This gave Reno more satisfaction than you willingly wanted to give, though the growing desire in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed, and this ignited something else in you.

“Yo, no need to go shy on me now, y/n. Maybe you need another shot to take the edge off?” Reno suggested, leaning back in his seat, looking very pleased with himself.

“Oh shut the fuck up and kiss me asshole,” you asserted, roughly grabbing the colllar of his suit and forcing him up and out his chair, pressing him against the wall of Seventh Heaven. Not a single part of him resisted, his arms wrapping around you and pulling your body against his own, his left hand snaking up into your hair and the other grasping at the curve of your hip. Faster than you can comprehend, Reno had pushed off the wall and flipped you around so you were now pinned against it. The kisses were hot, angry and desperate, as you allowed the self restraint to slip away and submit to carnal desires.

Reno broke the kiss, momentarily satiated. He withdrew his hand from your hair and traced his finger along your jaw to stop under your chin, tilting your head up.

He shook his head a little in disbelief. “Well I gotta be honest, did not expect my night to turn out quite like this.”

“Likewise,” you huffed, then swiftly pushed Renos' body from yours. He stumbled a little, shooting you a questioning look.

“I want a rematch!” You demanded, shaking your fist and marching back into the bar.

#reno x reader #reno sinclair #the turks #ffvii #ffvii remake #ffvii reno #reno #final fantasy fanfiction

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