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softquietsteadylove · 4 days ago

Note

The arranged marrige au looks very interesting 👀, may i ask for another part. Also i wanted to thank you so much for posting your work, without your work i'll be bored and sad they make my days better, also you write so good, you write Thena and Gil and their relationship so beautifully. 🤍

Thena sighed. There was just no way around this. She wished it hadn't come to this, but she didn't have another choice. With great reluctance, she cracked the door to the dressing room open. "Gil?"

Even with only one eye to peek at him, she could see him sitting on a chaise just outside her door. He was being reflected in the multiple mirrors lining the walls of the enclosed fitting area. She couldn't see his screen but she could tell he was doing something work related.

She cleared her throat and swallowed her pride, trying a little louder, "Gil!"

He blinked, immediately slipping his phone in his inside pocket. He put on the perfect smile as he looked up at her. "How's it feel, sweetheart?"

It was the finest material she'd ever put on her body, it felt like a dream. That wasn't the problem. "Gil, I can't wear this."

He looked appalled, basically pouting. "Why not?"

Thena rolled her eyes, opening the door just a little more. The dress was beautiful, and it fit her well. But that wasn't the point! "When I said I needed some things to wear, I meant something casual, for running errands, or seeing some friends."

"So?" he stood, grinning and oblivious. "This looks perfect on you!"

Thena huffed, pulling the door open completely and crossing her arms at him. "This dress is for formal events, and I think it costs more than a year of my old rent."

She could just tell he wanted to comment on the fact that she didn't have to worry about rent anymore, now did she? But he held his tongue in a rare moment of restraint. "Thena-"

"Gil," she relented. She knew he meant well--she meant for it to be a sweet gesture, and the fact that he was here instead of just sending a bodyguard with his wallet was testament enough that he was trying to sweet about it. "It's too much. I can't wear this."

He was still borderline pouting, holding her modest white peacoat under his arm with his hands in his pockets. "I got you other stuff like this and you didn't say anything."

She squirmed on the spot. "Well, I don't wear any of those things either."

Gil's jaw dropped.

She attempted to reason with him again, taking his hands in hers so he could really hear her (which he did better through the sensation of touch, for whatever reason). "Gil, I know it's just part of your lifestyle. But you've seen the clothes I brought with me--what I wear at home. I need...that. I need some normal clothes. I was just going to go myself when-"

"No." He was firm about that. He was very firm, actually; under no circumstances was she to go wandering around alone. Her first instinct was to act defensive about his need to keep an eye on her. But she couldn't act childish; his work was dangerous, and there was a reason he'd hired a car for them, had tinted windows, and never left her side this entire afternoon.

She gave his hands a squeeze, "please, Gil?"

He really did have a soft heart, and he wore it on his sleeve, completely out in the open. How did anyone take him seriously as a gangster when he was clearly just a big, soft teddy bear walking around in a pinstripe suit.

"Okay, sweetheart," he conceded to her, as he always did. He raised her hands to his lips. "Whatever you need--I promised that. You get changed and we'll find some things that suit your tastes."

"Sir, Madam, do you need any--oh!"

Thena drew her shoulders up. She had no reason to feel flustered, or embarrassed. Gil had thrown the doors open and asked that his 'wife' be assisted by their best and brightest. That was probably more embarrassing than them being seen by the staff holding hands in her changing room.

There was no need for her to blush.

"It's all right," Gil chuckled, letting her close the door to get changed again. She heard his shoes on the fancy marble floors as he walked back out into the store. "Everything's great, but I think we're going to try some other places."

"Very good, sir."

This was the most posh place she had ever come into. She did tell Gil she usually shopped off the rack sales for generic corporate casual clothes. If she weren't a mobster's wife, maybe she would even peruse the shops or malls like a normal person.

But she got changed and hung up the gown that was so expensive she was afraid to touch it. It was beautiful, and she had to admit that it had fit her like it was made for her. Gil had seen it on display and insisted she try it on.

He was right, it had been perfect for her, but that didn't make a good enough reason to buy a dress like that.

She exited the room, holding her purse and going to find Gil. This time last year, she never would have come into a store like this. She would sooner assume she would be laughed out of the shop all together.

"Yeah, someone will pick it up later."

"Gil?"

"Hey, princess," he turned, raising her hand and kissing it again. He released her coat and held it out for her to put on. "Ready to go?"

"I suppose so," she murmured, looking at the staff all waving goodbye to them. Maybe all fancy shops were like this, but she had a bad feeling about it. "What was that about?"

"Oh, I just told them that we'll definitely come again some time, we're just looking for a different vibe today."

He was lying. But Thena let him hold her hand as they exited the name brand store, massive and towering and shiny enough to reflect a blinding amount of sun this time of day. It was nice out, though. It was a large part of the reason she had proposed going shopping for herself.

And from the moment she mentioned it, everyone who worked with or for Gilgamesh in any way had panicked. Every time she wanted anything or wanted to go anywhere, it was a unanimous sentiment; the boss's wife could want for nothing. Either they had to handle it, or Gilgamesh would.

"You okay, Thena?"

She blinked, coming out of her thoughts. "Hm?"

Gil sighed; he almost looked contrite. "I know this probably isn't the kind of day out you're used to. But...I wish I didn't have to go this far. But if anything happened to you-"

A big, soft teddy bear, who liked to pretend he was all grizzly and growl-y. When, in actuality, he had the softest heart around. She slipped her hand into the bend of his elbow. "I know you're just trying to protect me, Gil. It's nice."

He wasn't entirely convinced. But they kept walking, taking their time moving away from the luxury branded buildings towards a more regular collection of shops. "I'll try to make arrangements so you can go out on your own--with security, obviously."

"Obviously," she humored him. She was walking arm and arm with her husband, but more than that, she had to admit it was nice to talk with someone like a friend.

"What else?"

"What?" she blinked, alarmed by the grave change in his tone.

"What else do you want to do?" he asked more gently, moving them off to the side. "I don't want to hold you back, Thena. If you want to explore this part of the city, see more of downtown, call up any old friends--anything."

She didn't have much in the way of 'old friends'. Dealing with her father was such a dominating and isolating aspect of her life. She was quite sure none of her old coworkers would even notice her absence. Even if that weren't the case, she wasn't exactly yearning to explore weekend markets or clubs, either.

"Unless it's an old flame," Gil added hastily, holding up his finger with a heavy gold ring on it. "Then maybe, but you have to say it's just as friends, because you're married now."

Oh, she certainly had no such thing. But she grinned at him, as he often did with her. "Oh, well, I didn't think my husband was the jealous type. What if I tell him we're married in name only? What if he offers to whisk me away from this life?"

She was laughing, but Gil had that look on his face whenever he was watching sports and the team he owned was losing. It wasn't murderous, but it was decidedly pissed off.

"He can offer." Maybe she had taken this joke too far. But Gil moved her hand so he could hold it again, locking their fingers together. "But I'm gonna introduce myself as your husband, so he knows what he's dealing with."

Even in this fictional, joke world, that would paint an intimidating picture. She leaned against him faintly--to calm his temper, she told herself. "Wasn't it part of my contract that I not be in any relationship?"

Gil looked away, pretending he was examining his suit. He could get somewhat sheepish from time to time, which she had to admit was quite adorable. "Our contract--and that doesn't mean you don't have some ex-boyfriend or something pining for you at this very moment."

She definitely had no such thing. And even if she did, it would be far from her mind as she leaned against her husband, their arms sealed together, his massive bicep against her slim one. She looked down at the strap of her purse, fiddling with its latch. "Well, I don't."

"Good."

#Thenamesh Marriage Contract AU #that's so sweet!!!#thank you so much for all your support!#I'm so glad if I can make someone's day better #I love this au and I love that people are loving it #I really want a married/enemies to friends to lovers vibe #Gil walks straight into Tom Ford and YSL and says my wife requires assistance #Thena is here like oh my god you're so embarrassing I wanted to go to *insert a shop they have in America or the UK or Korea here*#but Gil is like obviously my wife will only have the finest things money can buy #Thena finds some normal clothes and says she'll try them on #he still waits outside and says everything look beautiful on her #which she tells him not to do #go find some jeans or something!#y'know those thick sweaters with the collar that zips only partway down the chest?#well this Gil decides that these are his comfy clothes #and dammit he looks really good in them #buys two in every colour because he's extra #of course he buys all Thena's stuff #she offers to buy it for herself attempts to insist even #but he says princess you're making me look bad what kind of husband doesn't treat his wife once in a while?#the girls at the register are drooooling #meanwhile Thena is like you little shit #how would they know he does this literally all the time?#so they walk out and he's got like two massive bags on one arm and a few smaller ones on the other #Thena tries to take the smaller ones to carry for herself #and then Gil pulls that move #he moves all the bags to one hand because he's strong #and holds Thena's hand instead #and then they're just two stubborn idiots in love having a glare-off #also of course he bought that fancy dress at the other store it was like it was made for her

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sebsxphia · 5 months ago

Text

shopping lists.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.

￫ summary: you rush to the shops after work to do a quick food shop, but bob floyd was not on your shopping list.

￫ word count: 3.3K.

￫ warnings: mentions of food, supermarkets, feeling hungry and fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ authors notes: my description of the supermarket is based off uk supermarkets, so i apologise if there’s inaccuracies to us supermarkets! this also hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Bob was starving.

He cursed himself under his breath as he drove back from base. He had the driver's window in his baby blue truck rolled down and his forearm resting on the side, his fingers pushing through the sticky summer air as he drove. Air conditioning alone wouldn’t keep him cool, as he still wore his flight suit from training earlier that day. He could feel how the ring of sweat around his neck was sticking to his collar, but he simply didn’t have the time or willpower to shower and change on base.

It had just gone five o’clock in the afternoon and he had gotten off later than he expected. He would’ve already had a small meal to keep him going until dinner by now, but low and behold, when he awoke this morning, as the sun was only a crack along the horizon, he realized he had no substantial food in his fridge.

Bob was a planner. He would do his fortnightly shop routinely, but something came up at work and it had simply slipped his mind. The only thing he could do now was drive as fast as he could to the supermarket, slip in, whisk around the aisles in record time and drive back home to cook something up in under an hour. He had another early start the next morning and as always, he had a routinely early bedtime.

Being a pilot made his reactions lightening fast. This would be easy for him.

As he pulled into the car park and zoned in on a space, he noticed another car also going for the same spot.

You were inches away from the space and although he was in a hunger-fueled rush, being the ever polite gentleman that he was, he let you go for it. Through the glare of the late afternoon sun reflecting off your windshield, he couldn’t quite make out the person driving, but he saw how you politely lifted your hand off the steering wheel to motion, “Thanks!”

Bob responded in turn with his wave and warm smile. He drove a little further forward past your car to find another space and the reflecting sun moved against your windshield to reveal you in a clearer light. You had the sweetest little smile as you thanked Bob. Your lips curled up to meet the creases in the corners of your eyes and your cheeks were a sweet rosy colour.

As he drove away and around the corner of the car park, Bob chewed at the inside of his cheek, still with a small smile twitching on his lips. He had a small hope that he would see you inside, only because he wanted to let you know that he was more than happy to give you the spot.

No other reason.

He was pulled out of his thoughts about your sweet smile as he felt his stomach grumble furiously. After doing a loop around, he managed to find a spot at the opposite end of the car park. He of course cursed himself again under his breath for going shopping at peak hours after everyone had finished work on a weekday, but he only blamed himself. He didn’t blame you. You were simply there first.

The almost freezing blast of air conditioner on his face as he entered the supermarket, was a welcomed change to the ever-growing humid air outside. The tiny, blonde baby hairs on the back of his sweat-coated neck stood up momentarily, as the icy air flowed down and through his flight suit. He felt himself cool down almost instantly. He pulled up with a shopping cart and started with fruits and vegetables at the front of the store. He was desperate to move fast, but his boots were heavy and searingly hot with every step he took around the aisles. That was the only spot on his body that the air conditioning could not reach.

As he came to the end of the fruits and vegetables section, he turned to reach for the tomatoes when suddenly a flurry swooped by him. It caught his attention instantly and he whipped his head around, with his torso moving inwards towards the tomatoes to avoid bumping into whoever had just swept by him.

It was you. The same person in the car park who he had given his space to. He observed as you descended the cheese and yoghurt aisle.

A small lump got caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly, as he watched how your sundress swished around your bare calves. He couldn’t help but let his cobalt blue eyes from behind his glasses, glance over you. Bob was raised right by his mom. He was respectful and well-mannered, but the simple and undeniable fact was, that you were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on. Even from the glow of the cool light down the food aisle, it could not diminish your luminescence.

He reached his slender index finger up to his glasses and pushed them up his nose ever so slightly. The prior sudden movement had caused them to jolt down the bridge of his nose by a centimetre.

As you walked straight down the aisle and turned to face the cheese selection, the delicate material of your sundress moved back into place to frame your body. It rippled over each curve of your figure and Bob’s heartbeat doubled in time when he caught sight of your soft belly in your sundress. He sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth as he wondered for a fleeting second, how soft your belly would feel to hold when his face was buried between your thighs.

He registered the smile creases in the corners of your eyes. The same ones that he noticed first in the parking lot and how they narrowed to read the label in front of you. Your eyelashes fluttered against one another as you blinked against the glaring light humming above you. As you raked over your options, he watched how your teeth grazed over your bottom lip and chewed nimbly at it. The same habit he had.

He needed some cheese and yoghurt himself, so perhaps he could catch you there.

Bob meandered some meters behind you and acted as if he was choosing his yoghurt option. He already knew what he needed. The same yoghurt he’d had for the past five years, but he was drawn to you. Like a moth to the radiating flame.

He cocked his head behind him to glance in your direction and you had already moved down the aisle to assess your next grocery choice. He took his multipack of yoghurts, placed it in his cart and wheeled it around to stand by you, again acting as if he was evaluating his cheese choice. From behind his glasses, he took another sideways glance. You were performing a balancing act of holding your shopping basket’s flimsy handles, holding the cheese in your other hand and somehow holding open a small notebook and crossing out the presumed item, with a pen.

At a glance, Bob saw how inside your notebook was filled with lots of little scribbles, and crossed-out parts and as you went to close it, the front cover was decorated with sweet little stickers.

“Jesus Christ. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He thought to himself.

As you went to slide the pen back into the elasticated band, it slipped from your balancing act and slid along the dotted tiles of the supermarket, straight for Bob’s direction. It hit the sole of his boots and he heard your voice for the first time.

“Ah, shit.” It was muttered under your breath with annoyance, but he thought your voice sounded like sweet honey.

Before his thought process could catch up to him, he wondered if you tasted like sweet honey.

You spoke directly to Bob this time, as you scurried over and bent down to pick up the pen by his boots. He caught a fleeting glance at the swell of your breasts, resting in your sundress.

You laughed out faintly with your apology. “I’m sorry, my mistake—”

As you moved too quickly with embarrassment to pick up your pen, your flimsy shopping basket was swinging and the cheese you were holding also fell out of your grasp.

“Ah! Fuck.” You quietly cursed again to yourself, or so you thought.

Bob had caught your second string of curses to you accidentally dropping something and he thought it was rather cute.

“Here, let me.” He chuckled to himself as he squatted down to reach for your cheese and pen.

Both now standing upright, he handed your belongings back to you and felt how the palms of your hands were as soft as butter against his fingertips. You looked at each other directly and now without the glare of your windshield, he could finally see every delicate feature that made up your beautiful face. He thought that you were so pretty.

You went to open your mouth and speak, but your words got caught on your tongue. This kind stranger was incredibly handsome. He looked smart with his clean-shaven face and his dusty blonde hair parted neatly to one side, with a thick swoop. His rounded glasses didn’t have a single smudge on them and his cheeks were round as he smiled at you, although it still didn't take away from his strong cheekbones and firm jaw.

You blinked in a flurry as you took in his build. You were accustomed to seeing pilots around here with the air base being so close to town, but it was rare to see one in what you presumed was a flight suit of some kind. It was deep forest green in colour and harmoniously blended against his striking eyes from behind his glasses. It wasn’t tightly fitted, yet still, his broad shoulders and firm biceps were flexing against the coarse material. His thighs stood strong with his heavy boots planted firmly against the tiled floor. He was tall and practically towered over you, but he respectfully kept a distance between you both.

“I’m sorry again, thank you.” You smiled bashfully at him. Your eyelashes were still fluttering against one another and your rounded cheeks were dusted pink.

Bob couldn’t help himself. He grinned as he shook his head and politely rejected your apology.

“No need to apologise, Ma’am. It’s all good.”

Suddenly your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised with them.

The glimmer from the overhead light in the supermarket made your eyes sparkle with such an inviting glow.

“Oh! You were the nice guy in the parking lot! You let me take your space!” You pointed your finger towards him. His truck was significantly higher than your car and you were only able to get a glance at his face from behind your windshield.

Bob let out a chuckle and waved his large hand in front of him, diminishing the idea. He further wanted to wave off the ever-growing flush of heat that was creeping up from his chest. It flushed over his neck and cheeks and sat right under his glasses. The blasting air conditioning had once again failed him and his chest, neck and cheeks were now flushed warm.

“Oh, hey. Not at all, it wasn’t my space. You had it, fair and square.”

You giggled in response. His respectful and polite demeanour had your stomach feeling as though a million and one butterflies were fluttering through you, making their way up through your heart and coming out of your mouth with sweet giggles.

“Alright, thanks again though, I appreciate it. I was in such a rush after work. Always the way, isn’t it?”

You laughed again and the sound flowed to Bob’s ears, making his playful smile reach the tips of his ears.

“Tell me about it.” He agreed with a grin.

You flashed a last beaming smile at Bob as the conversation between two strangers in a supermarket came to its natural end and you turned around to continue following your shopping list.

That’s what he thought.

As you turned down the aisle, you once again cursed at yourself for not being more forward, flirtatious, or whatever it would be that would land you his number. He was gorgeous. Undeniably handsome. And he was so stupidly charming and polite.

You turned on a quick heel to see if he was still there, but he had disappeared and you were left alone in the chilled aisle, with nothing to comfort you but your notebook and the static overhead lights.

Bob too mentally scolded himself for not asking such a pretty sweetheart like yourself for your number. As he watched you turn away, he chewed on his bottom lip, curled his fists tightly, released them and then walked away.

He was a gentleman. He would not harass someone if they didn’t show a sign of being interested in him. But he was sure you were. He had a sharp and watchful eye, and he saw how rosy your cheeks turned and how your chest stuttered slightly as your breath got caught in your throat. But he was pulled out of his battling thoughts but his stomach grumbly furiously at him again.

He whisked down the remaining aisles to finish his shop, still with the hope of a fleeting chance to see you again, but he couldn’t ignore what his body was telling him. As he checked out, tapped his card on the machine and wheeled his shopping cart out of the store, he still had both his trained eyes on his surroundings. Just in case there was a single chance, a perfect moment, where he could catch you. Bob had been extremely methodical about his choices in life and he only ever perused something if he was certain. He had never been so utterly and completely sure that you were the one for him.

He fished his truck keys out of his flight suit pocket and just as he was about to turn the key in the door, he remembered.

“Fuck. Tomatoes.”

Bob didn’t need a list. It was all written down mentally and he rarely forgot things, but he remembered that as he was about to reach for the tomatoes, you came by earlier in a flurry. He would’ve called it fate if he ever had a chance of seeing you again.

“Fuck! Tomatoes.”

You groaned and threw your head back in annoyance. It was on your list, sitting on the next line down under cheese and then you remembered why you forgot it in such a fluster. You slammed the boot door of your car back down, locked it shut and headed back inside to grab the final item. Your feet moved quickly along the tile floor and you turned on your heel to find the stack of plump, rosy red tomatoes in front of you.

“Hello again.”

The familiar voice made the tiny baby hairs on your neck stand up and a row of goosebumps rise on your forearms in tow. His smile radiated warmth as it crinkled up in the corners of his eyes. He stood tall over you, still in his flight suit, but again you didn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. You felt a true sense of calm and safety wash over you.

Your lips parted to gasp with happy surprise at seeing him again, before they curled up into a relieved smile, mirroring his own.

“Hello again.” You repeated back to him. “I forgot tom—”

“I forgot some tom—”

You both spoke in unison, before snorting out a quiet laugh between yourselves.

“Apologies. You go.” Bob gestured towards you and the vegetable stand.

“I’m going to make a sauce when I get back home, but I completely forgot the main ingredient.” You waved it off with another giggle, yet still, you did not attempt to reach for said important ingredient. You simply stayed facing him with a gleaming smile.

Bob’s mouth watered at the sound of your homemade tomato sauce. His stomach still growled at him from inside, but he also felt how it twisted and turned on itself with exhilaration. He pictured coming home to you after work, sitting down together at your dining table and sharing the homemade sauce. You were, without a fault, the only person he had ever truly envisioned a future with and he couldn’t repeat the same mistake as before.

He nimbly chewed at his bottom lip, failing to notice how you were also doing the same, as he mentally prepared his next statement.

“That sounds, delicious. I hope I’m not oversteppin’ here, and please tell me if I am, but I’d love to have y’ number, Ma’am. I’d love to try some of y’ homemade sauce, if that’s okay with you?”

Bob was not an overly religious man, but he swallowed thickly and prayed with every hope that the last part of his sentence didn’t come across in the wrong way. It felt longer than mere seconds to receive your response, but he breathed out a short sigh of relief when he saw how your eyes crinkled up into an animated smile to match his.

“Yes, yes! I’d love that. Please, let me get my book…” Your fingers were trembling with giddy anticipation as you worked to open your bag and reached for your notebook. “Uh…” You flipped through to find a clean page and when you landed on one, you gestured it towards him. “Here you go.” You gushed.

“Thank you.” He began. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd.”

You mentioned your name and he felt his heart flutter at how pretty it was. By how eagerly you had accepted his proposal to exchange numbers, he could see that you were just as into him, as he was with you. And so, he let his true feelings become known.

“That’s a real pretty name, sweetheart.”

You sucked in a harsh breath between your teeth and let out a bashful, “Oh…”

The sweet name that he had just called you, made your legs nearly twitch and tremble on the supermarket floor.

His long, slender fingers curled around the pen as he scribbled down his number. Your notebook and pen looked so small in his hands.

When he offered it back to you, you wrote down your number in a flurry and tore the piece of paper out from the binder. You handed it over and he tucked it into the top pocket of his flight suit. You thought that that was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed a man doing.

Bob Floyd, as you now knew him, had seriously gotten into your head and clouded any reasonable senses.

You both exchanged some further light conversation, still with Bob shamelessly and sweetly flirting with you, before you both picked up your tomatoes, paid and left for the car park together. He insisted on walking you to the car to ensure that you got there safely, even though it was still broad daylight and when he left, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

You both went back to your separate homes and cooked your separate meals. As you were about to get into bed you sent Bob a text, the taste of your homemade sauce still dancing on your taste buds.

“this weekend, would you like me to show you how i make the sauce? would you like to come to mine? x”

You were caught by surprise when your phone dinged with a message notification moments after.

“I would love that, thank you for the invite, sweetheart. Can’t wait :-) x”

Bob lay in bed that night thinking about how to tell the story of how you both met at your wedding.

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