hehe i love ur reno stuff cause its been hard to find stuff of him lately. could u write something where the reader also has a position in shinra? not at high as him— but maybe they’re like an assistant to him or just the turks in general? maybe..
Assistant to the Turk
Thank you anon, I hope you enjoy! I think this is the first time I wrote anything for Reno that wasn’t headcanons so excuse the shitty dialogue lmao
Typing away at your computer, you’re practically drowning in your work: Piles of papers with rough drafts of mission reports that you’re expected to finish up have been accumulating on your desk. But now that your little eye candy isn’t here, you can diligently dedicate yourself to your tasks.
“Eye candy” is what he dubbed himself before he brought you a new stack of papers one time, as you later found out when Elena came to vent her frustrations about her fellow Turks. “Who wouldn’t deserve a little eye candy for their hard work?” Is the argument with which he took the report right out of Elena’s hands and straight to your office just to come see you.
Now that you’re thinking of him, his mission should be over soon. As if on cue, the door opens and a light breeze wakes you from your monotone work flow. The only one who opens the door without ever knocking—
“Reno.”
But instead of his usual flirty remarks, his heavy sigh is what makes you look up from your screen. He sits down on the little couch behind you, leans his head back and crosses his arms in front of his chest. And he looks terrible. Every visible part of his skin is littered with little cuts and bruises and he seems utterly exhausted.
“Was s’posed to check up on Aerith today. Looks like she’s got herself a new bodyguard, asshole called himself a Soldier. Who does he think he is?”
And he’s in a bad mood too, but you know what he’s like. It’s not rare that he comes into your office looking for some sort of comfort or distraction from his daily life as a Turk. Although he’s never told you about his real intentions when visiting you, he always explains that someone’s “gotta keep an eye on the new secretary.” But you can tell he just enjoys your company and it warms your heart.
“Looks like he beat you up pretty badly.”
That gets a little chuckle out of him.
“Shut up. Should’ve seen the grunts that came with me, poor guys can hardly walk anymore. That little shit knows what he’s doing with that weapon of his, gotta give him that.”
You stand up to take a closer look at him. Seems like that new bodyguard was wielding a sword, perhaps? There’s a small gash near his wrist and the sleeve of his suit jacket tore. You can’t see much more since he’s hiding his hand under his other arm, but it looks pretty painful. And you’re staring. Reno looks up at you standing right in front of him, but he can’t hold your gaze for long before he looks off to the side. Finally you’ve managed to fluster him! It’s probably just his embarrassment at you seeing him in this state, but hey, a win’s a win. But you’re gracious enough not to tease him any further, even if he’d definitely deserve it considering how often he does it to you…
“He’s a soldier? Don’t they usually listen to Turk’s orders?” You make your way towards the locker in the corner of your office and rummage around in the mess. Your bag, printer paper, all sorts of fancy stationary that you use as backup, and an emergency kit hidden underneath it all. It seems like he hasn’t paid a visit to Shinra’s infirmary yet, and although this isn’t listed in your job description, you might as well patch him up yourself. Make him stay a little longer.
“Nah, he said he’s a first class. Would’ve seen him around if he was. He’s got the eyes and one heck of a sword though.”
Making your way over to the couch, you sit down next to him and open the little box to pull out some bandages.
“You gonna patch me up now, sweet stuff?”
“Sweet stuff? That’s cringe, Reno.”
“Then what else should I call ya? My nurse?”
You pull at his arm and in the process also Reno himself closer to you, earning an “Ouch” from him.
“My name is perfectly fine, thank you. And what did you say about that guy’s eyes? You know, your eyes look like you’re on mako half the time yourself.” Pulling at his upper arm and placing it on your lap, you remove his leather glove and cut straight to clumsily wrapping the bandage around his wrist without disinfecting the wound first and mentally chide yourself. What a stupid move to pull him so close to you, now he’s literally breathing down your neck. He’s having fun, alright.
“Now don’t try to distract me, I’m tryin’ to find a nickname here.”
“Nope, we’re done. Look!” The bandage looks amateur at best and this might not have been the best idea considering there’s professionals just a couple of floors away but oh well. Standing up, you try to gain a little distance to calm your nerves and let the uncomfortable feeling of your face heating up pass.
“For a second I thought you were tryin’ to cut my circulation with how much you were pulling there at the end. Not bad though. Not bad at all.”
At least he’s happy with it, you suppose. You sit back down at your desk and look forward to now also writing a report about how Reno messed up the mission, perfect material to tease him back once it’s done.
“Hey.”
Before you can start typing again, he calls for your attention while lazily leaning against the door frame. Even when he’s bruised and battered, his casual demeanor is still apparent. Maybe his job makes him more pain-resistant than the average person.
“Thanks. Might have to take you out to dinner after work now, huh?”
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Not from boredom or lack of enjoyment - no, to the contrary. Touch, like anything in the life of such a practiced man, is something requiring the utmost focus. The way his fingers trail along skin, ungloved and leaving goosebumps in their wake, is enhanced most by silence. The spots he finds are well sought-out, more about retrieving the neediest of exhales and the shakiest of trembles. A giver, always.
Perhaps that sounds boring, but the fun is in the subtlety. In listening for when his breathing changes. How it hitches at a particularly deep stroke, how it comes out a tad faster when a hand trails down his neck. In hearing the few curses he allows him at a tight clench. In obeying the deep voiced “c’mere,” “kiss me,” “open wider,” “just like that,” “so good for me.” In catching the slight hoarseness to the way he whispers it all, brown eyes locked in a downward gaze that refuses to break, hands on thighs and shoulders to make sure there’s not a chance of escaping the pleasure he gives.
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hmmm. i have done horrible things and my past actions and behaviors were abhorrent. I’ve changed for the better but that doesn’t remove the things I’ve done. and they don’t rot in me, but they are a very deep old knot that won’t properly heal over.
I want a boyfriend I want a girlfriend I want a partner like I know I know time and place and it’ll come as it should but hmnnnnnnhhhnnnnnn I am impatient
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i love the horny tumblr vibes and all but fuck i wish i had an actual genuine partner, i can't even imagine how good this all would feel when i know i'm committed to someone, that we love each other, that they're genuinely mine and i'm all theirs
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him being so reverent and slow, “I don’t want to rush this”, laying you back on pillows and folded blankets, kissing up and down your body with his mouth barely leaving your skin, laying you on your stomach and his hands wrapped around your middle, rutting and rolling his hips against yours, his head buried in your shoulder while he moans
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