had a wholesome thought last night of bimbo reader dragging bucky shopping, making him carry her bags 😭
his metal arm has got like pink bags hanging from it and he's just happy to be there
he's so happy to be there too!
--------
Bucky knew he was doomed the moment you gasped.
Not a frightened gasp. Not a startled one. The delighted kind. The kind that meant you’d spotted something pastel, sparkly, or aggressively impractical.
“Oh my god, Buck—look at this store!”
He barely had time to blink before you were already tugging him by the hand, your manicured fingers laced confidently through his, steering him toward a storefront glowing pink like it had been dipped in strawberry frosting. The sign was cursive. There were mannequins in tiny skirts. There was glitter. There was danger.
He glanced down at your joined hands, then up at your face. You were beaming, lip gloss catching the light, eyes wide and excited like this was the highlight of your week.
And maybe it was.
“You said we were just getting coffee,” he said mildly, even as he let himself be pulled inside without resistance.
“And we did,” you replied cheerfully. “This is just… after-coffee enrichment.”
He didn’t know what that meant, but he nodded anyway.
Twenty minutes later, Bucky Barnes—former assassin, super soldier, certified scary man—was standing in the middle of a boutique while your voice floated through the racks.
“Buckyyyyy, can you hold this?”
You appeared with an armful of clothes in shades of pink, white, and something that might legally qualify as baby blue. Without question, he took them from you, folding them over his forearm carefully like they were priceless artifacts.
Then you handed him a bag.
Then another.
Then another.
The metal arm was first. You didn’t even hesitate—just looped the delicate pink rope handles over his vibranium wrist like it was the most natural thing in the world.
By the time you disappeared into the fitting room, Bucky was holding five bags, three of them hanging from his metal arm, all branded with bubbly logos and hearts.
He looked down at himself.
Pink bags. A pastel shopping district. Soft pop music overhead.
And—he realized, distantly—he was smiling.
Not the tight, guarded kind. The real one. The one that tugged at his beard and made the corners of his eyes crinkle.
A group of girls walked past him, whispering not nearly as quietly as they thought they were.
“Oh my god, he’s so boyfriend coded.”
“Look at the bags.”
“Where do I find one like that?”
Bucky felt his ears warm. He shifted his weight, metal fingers clinking softly as the bags swayed.
He wasn’t embarrassed.
If anything… he felt proud.
You popped your head out of the fitting room a moment later, wearing a tiny skirt and a top that made his brain short-circuit.
“Be honest,” you said. “Is this cute or too cute?”
He stared.
Then blinked.
Then cleared his throat.
“…Doll,” he said slowly, voice rough, “I don’t think there’s such a thing as ‘too cute’ for you.”
You gasped dramatically. “You love it.”
“I do,” he admitted, immediately.
You grinned, satisfied, and disappeared back inside.
Another bag was added to the collection not long after. This one had a bow printed on the side.
When you finally emerged, shopping complete and joy fully extracted, you bounced up to him and leaned into his side, slipping your arm around his waist like you’d been doing it your whole life.
“Thank you for carrying everything, baby,” you said sweetly. “You’re so strong. And helpful. And handsome.”
His heart did a stupid, traitorous flip.
“Anytime,” he said, meaning it. “You wanna hit the next store?”
Your eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I’m good.”
You squeezed him tight, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, lip gloss warm and soft. “Best boyfriend ever.”
As you walked down the street together, your heels clicking and his boots heavy beside you, the bags swayed from his arms—pink and white and absurd against his dark jacket and broad shoulders.
And Bucky Barnes had never felt more content.
Not when he was feared.
Not when he was powerful.
But right now—being tugged from store to store, carrying your shopping like it was sacred cargo, listening to you ramble happily about outfits and aesthetics and things he didn’t fully understand but loved hearing anyway—
Going shopping in Victoria's Secret with your boyfriend.
You’re out shopping with your boyfriend when you suddenly decide you need to stop by Victoria’s Secret. No warning. No hesitation. You grab his hand and drag him in. Now he’s surrounded by lace, bras, and mannequins in underwear and he’s just trying to keep it together.
Part 1: Isagi, Chigiri, Rin, Bachira, Kunigami, Reo, Nagi
Content Warning: light suggestive themes
📝 Requests: OPEN
💙 Isagi Yoichi
Reaction when you drag him into Victoria’s Secret:
He panics. Not dramatically, but it’s all over his face.
You tug his hand and say “I need a new bra,” before walking straight through the glass doors without a second thought. He hesitates for half a second before following you in, kinda like a loyal puppy who’s just realized he’s in unfamiliar territory.
“You seriously—? W-We’re going in here?”
The lighting is pink. The mannequins are bold. The displays are full of lace. And he truly didn't know where to look.
What he does while you shop:
Stands like a statue next to a table full of folded thongs, trying so hard not to look like a creep. He’s checking his phone, but not actually doing anything on it... Just unlocking and relocking the screen like that’s going to get him through this. His eyes dart around the store like he's expecting to get tackled at any second. He pretends to be really interested in a bottle of body mist just so he has something to focus on.
How he handles you picking stuff out:
The second you hold something up and ask, “What about this one?” — he deadass short circuits.
His face goes bright red. His hands come up like he’s surrendering.
“Y-Yeah. Cute. You’d look good in… "
He trails off, looking away.
"I mean, it’s cute.”
He can’t look at it too long or he’ll combust. He says “cute” four times in a row and you have to hold back a laugh. Deep down? He’s honored you’re even asking. But he’s absolutely not surviving this trip.
Reaction when you drag him into Victoria’s Secret:
Doesn’t flinch. Walks right in behind you with his hands in his pockets like it’s just another store. He’s usual calm expression on his face, maybe even a little smirk.
“Need a new bra? Fine. Let’s go.”
Like he’s doing you the favor by walking in. Like he’s totally used to this.
He is not
What he does while you shop:
Starts off casual. Leans against the wall. Nods like he’s analyzing the inventory. Occasionally raises a brow at a bright pink lace set like he has opinions. Definitely says something like, “That’s not even functional,” under his breath. But the longer you browse, the more he shifts. His arms cross tighter. His mouth stops moving. His posture gets tenser. His confidence starts cracking slowly. Quietly.
How he handles you picking stuff out:
You turn around and hold up a set. It's a beautiful shade of red, almost the same shade as his hair.
“Do you like this one?”
His mouth opens. Closes. His ears flush.
“Uh— yeah. I mean… I guess. It’s fine.”
You hold up another, swaying your hips to the side, like you were posing.
“Or this?”
Now his cheeks and ears turning pink.
“Sure. I mean—whatever makes you comfortable.”
You don’t say anything, but you see it. This man is overheating in real time. By the time you’re headed to the register, he’s looking everywhere except at you, arms crossed, jaw tight, absolutely not making eye contact with any of the mannequins.
Still says, “You’ll look good in whatever,” under his breath on the way out. And he means it.
Reaction when you drag him into Victoria’s Secret:
Doesn’t argue, but he lets out a huge sigh and rolls his eyes before staring at the storefront like it personally offended him. You tug his hand and say, “Come on,” and he follows. Reluctantly. Silently.
“...Seriously?” He says it under his breath, but you hear it.
The moment the doors close behind him, he looks like he wants to vanish. His eyes flick away from everything. His jaw’s tight. His hands are in his pockets and he’s not letting them out.
What he does while you shop:
Stands in the most boring, neutral spot he can find, right next to the scent display or behind a pillar like he’s hoping the store forgets he exists. Avoids eye contact with everyone. Refuses to look at anything made of lace. Keeps his head slightly down but glances at you from the corner of his eye like he’s making sure no one else is looking at you either. And after you've shown him a couple bras, get his opinion, you walk off to look at more. But Rin He turns away, covers the bottom half of his face with his hand, and exhales hard.
His brows are furrowed. His ears are red. His whole face is fighting itself.
How he handles you picking stuff out:
You hold up something soft and strappy. “What about this one?”
He doesn’t look.
“I don’t care. Pick whatever.”
You raise an eyebrow before frowning.
“You’re not even looking.”
He glances. Regrets it instantly.
By the third one, he’s not even pretending to play it cool.
He’s bright red, mouth hidden behind his hand again, muttering under his breath. But when you check out, he still carries the bag. And when you walk past the window, he never looks back. Not once.
Reaction when you drag him into Victoria’s Secret:
He loves it. Doesn't hesitate. Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t even ask where you’re going! Just follows you inside like a golden retriever on a mission.
“Oooohhh we’re goin’ in here? Fun~”
He’s already grinning. Already looking around. You’re supposed to be shopping for yourself, but somehow he's also shopping for you.
What he does while you shop:
He’s touching everything. Picks up a feathered robe and his eyes light up way more than they should.
“This feels insane. I want one.” Points at a sparkly bra: “You’d look hot in that.”
Waves at a mannequin. You don’t know why. He’s just being Bachira. He disappears for five minutes and comes back with three items you absolutely didn’t ask for, saying,
“Okay hear me out— try this one on just for fun.” With the most evil smirk on his lips
How he handles you picking stuff out:
He’s fully involved. You hold something up? “Cuuute. Try on that blue one next." Something spicier? Stares, just stares. Like his mind is wandering places it shouldn't before grinning and nodding his head with a thumbs up. He’s not embarrassed. He’s not shy. He’s not even whispering.
Reaction when you drag him into Victoria’s Secret:
Stiffens instantly. Doesn’t stop you, doesn’t argue, just follows you inside with the kind of face that says he’s concentrating on not looking weird. His posture goes straight. His hands go in his pockets. And his eyes go anywhere but the walls.
“Uh… okay. Cool. You need a new one we will get you a new one."
What he does while you shop:
Stands politely off to the side, near the sports bras because they feel the least scandalous. If we are being for real he looks like he’s waiting for a bus. Doesn’t touch anything. Doesn’t move much. Just nods when you show him something and says “Yeah,”
Internally? He’s panicking.
How he handles you picking stuff out:
You hold up a black lace one. “What about this?”
His eyes widen. He blinks hard.
“Uh… yeah. That’s… that’s good. I mean, if you like it. Looks— looks fine.”
You smirk. Hold up something even bolder.
He blanks.
Covers his mouth. Looks away.
“Y-You’d look good in anything,” He mumbles.
On the way out, you catch him peeking in the bag. Just once.
Reaction when you drag him into Victoria’s Secret:
Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t question. Walks in with you like he’s the one who suggested it.
“Oh? You need new stuff? Why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Hand already in his pocket. Platinum card on deck. He’s smiling, nodding at displays like he’s been here before... Because he has.
He’s already planning a shopping spree and y’all just stepped inside.
What he does while you shop:
Helps. Fully. Picks out colors, sizes, textures. Brings you options.
Says things like, “You need one of everything in this collection. It'd compliment you well."
He’s holding half the store in his arms. He’s asking sales associates for fitting rooms. He’s comparing items like it’s an investment portfolio.
How he handles you picking stuff out:
You hold something up. “What about this one?” He lights up instantly.
“That one’s gorgeous. But grab the red one too— I think it’ll look even better on you.”
You laugh. “Reo, I don’t need all this—”
He leans in a little, voice warm.
“I know. But I want you to have it.”
No teasing. No pressure. Just soft, genuine affection behind the eyes. He likes seeing you happy.
You walk out with three bags and he still says, “That’s it?”
Reaction when you drag him into Victoria’s Secret:
He sighs. Not annoyed, just sleepy.
“Do we have to?”
You say yes. He shrugs and follows you in with zero fight. Hands in his hoodie pocket. Looks like he just woke up.
“Guess I’ll stand somewhere… Man this is a hassle....”
What he does while you shop:
Leans against a wall and barely moves.He’s not embarrassed at first, mostly just bored. Looking at the ceiling. Then at you. Then back at the ceiling. Probably yawns once or twice.
How he handles you picking stuff out:
You hold up something lacy. “Cute, right~?”
He blinks. Eyes wide. Ears turning red. Doesn’t say a word. Just nods. Once. Stiff. You hold up another. He nods again. Face now red. Doesn’t look at you. Doesn’t even blink.
You tilt your head with a smirk. “You okay?”
He nods one more time. Slower. "Yeah.. They look fine."
Completely unresponsive. You’re trying on outfits in the mirror, he’s standing behind you like a statue, no longer looking at you. Maybe a peek now and then.
FLUFFCEMBER: Hello! If it's still available, may I request Day 1. Mittens with Ace where he takes the reader shopping for winter clothes in Foothill Town? Thank you!
Ah, esteemed patron!
You have slipped in just as the kitchen doors were closing! A "last-minute" reservation for the very first course? How exciting! The Manager is happy to squeeze this order onto the ticket rail.
You have reserved Day 1: Mittens, featuring our favorite energetic card soldier, Monsieur Ace Trappola.
A shopping date in Foothill Town is the perfect setting for Ace. He loves an excuse to get off campus, he has opinions on fashion, and he absolutely loves teasing his partner while simultaneously taking care of them.
The kitchen has prepared this Manager's Specialty Pasta to kick off the event! We do hope this meal is to your satisfaction.
Serving: Mittons
"Are you kidding me? You're actually shivering. You look like a leaf in a blender."
Ace Trappola let out a dramatic, exasperated sigh, the puff of white breath vanishing into the frigid air of Foothill Town. He stopped walking, turning to look at you. You were indeed shivering, huddled into a coat that was decidedly not rated for the sudden drop in temperature.
"I thought it would be warmer!" you defended, your teeth chattering slightly.
"Yeah, well, you thought wrong. Come on."
He didn't ask. He just grabbed your arm and steered you sharply to the left, pushing open the door to a brightly lit clothing shop. The bell chimed, and a wave of warm air hit you instantly.
"We are not leaving until you are properly equipped," Ace declared, marching you toward the winter accessories aisle. "I am not dragging a frozen popsicle back to the dorm. Riddle would have my head for 'improper escorting' or something."
For the next twenty minutes, Ace was in his element. He was surprisingly good at shopping. He held up scarves ("Too itchy"), hats ("Makes your head look weird"), and coats ("Okay, this one is decent, try it on").
He was critical, loud, and having a great time treating you like his personal dress-up doll.
"Okay, hands," he demanded finally.
You held out your hands. They were red and freezing.
"Yikes," Ace grimaced, touching your fingers with his own warm hand. "Ice cubes. Serious ice cubes. You need the heavy artillery."
He scanned the rack and pulled down a pair of thick, fluffy, bright red mittens. They were a bit childish, maybe a bit too big, but they looked incredibly warm.
"Try these," he said, shoving them at you.
You pulled them on. They were lined with fleece. The warmth was instant. You wiggled your thumbs.
"Well?" Ace asked, leaning against the rack, a smirk playing on his lips. "Verdict?"
"They're warm," you admitted, smiling. "But I can't really use my fingers."
"That's the point, genius. Keeps the heat in."
He paid for them (insisting, "Don't worry about it, you can buy me a drink at the cafe later"), and you headed back out into the cold.
The wind bit at your face, but your hands were toasty in the new red mittens. You walked side-by-side toward the bus stop.
Suddenly, you felt a tug.
Ace had reached out and grabbed your mitten-covered hand.
"A-Ace?"
"Shut up," he muttered, looking steadfastly ahead, though the tips of his ears were turning pink. "It's slippery. I don't want you falling over and ruining the new gear."
He squeezed your hand. Even through the thick wool of the mitten, you could feel the firm, reassuring grip of his hand. He wasn't letting go.
You squeezed back.
" warm enough?" he asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, that smirk softening into a genuine, boyish smile.
"Yeah," you said, swinging your joined hands slightly. "Warm enough."
"Good," Ace chuckled. "Now come on. I'm starving."
A "dish" served with style, warmth, and a classic Ace Trappola attitude! The kitchen is delighted to confirm your reservation for the opening day.
could you do aventurine shopping with his s/o? thanks :)
Shopping Date w/ Aventurine!
Summary: Aventurine and his beloved spend a lighthearted day shopping together, filled with laughter, playful banter, and affectionate moments. It's a day that brings them closer, reminding both of them of the warmth they find in each other’s presence.
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Established Relationship, Playful Banter, Lighthearted Romance, Affectionate Moment, Shopping Date.
A/N: Hope you love it! 🤭💖
The crowded aisles of the upscale boutique hummed with quiet music and soft chatter, but the world felt oddly distant as you strolled beside Aventurine, who radiated charm and ease with every step. He examined everything with a discerning eye, his hair falling in casual waves as he adjusted his rose-tinted glasses to inspect the latest collection.
As he reached for a dark green scarf trimmed with gold, he glanced your way, a playful spark in his eyes. "What do you think?" he asked, draping the scarf around his neck and posing dramatically. “Does it scream 'strategic risk-taker'?"
You laughed, reaching out to adjust it just a little. "It might if you add a feather or two." you teased, referring to the peacock feathers that adorned his hat.
He smirked, his fingers ghosting over your hand as he lowered his voice, just for you. “Ah, so the subtlety isn’t doing it for you, hmm? Lucky I brought my style consultant along.”
The two of you meandered through the shop, Aventurine picking up random accessories and modeling them in exaggerated poses, just to make you laugh. Even the sales associates stole glances, enchanted by his magnetic energy. He leaned toward you, his gaze softening for just a moment. “You know, I like these days with you,” he murmured. “They remind me that there’s more to life than… well, strategy and stakes.”
His confession felt both intimate and fleeting, like a secret shared only in passing. But it lingered, making your cheeks warm. To lighten the mood, you tugged him over to a rack of hats.
"Let's find something that truly embodies 'Aventurine of Stratagems'." you said with mock seriousness, picking out a bold, wide-brimmed hat with a garish feather and planting it on his head.
He grinned, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, now this is a statement.” he said, spinning to admire himself in the mirror. He tipped the hat to you, the corners of his mouth quirking into a half-smile. "Think the IPC would take me seriously if I wore this to a meeting?"
"Only if you add a matching coat." you replied, unable to suppress your laughter.
He laughed too, the sound rich and unguarded—a rare break in his usual polished persona. But then his gaze softened, and he pulled you closer, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. "Thank you," he said softly. "For this… for today… for just being you.”
As he slid an arm around your shoulders, the two of you headed to the checkout, laughing about the hat and planning your next adventure. Because with Aventurine, life felt like a series of daring, beautiful risks, and you were his most cherished one of all.
You know what would be great? A shopping date card for the boys. Like, going to a boutique with Vil to pick out an outfit and dodge the paparazzi, or going with Ace and Deuce to a weird Knick knack shop and finding something dumb and pointing at it going “that’s u”. Maybe perhaps passing by a bakery with riddle or Trey (maybe perhaps it has a couples discount but that’s wishful thinking on my part). Malleus going to an appliance store because someone melted the fridge (it was Lilia) and being fascinated by gadgets. Bumping into Idia at a game store that’s doing a merchandise promotion for a game he loves that rarely gets attention. Jamil and Kalim going to the grocery store because there’s a banquet (of course there is) and Kalim wants to help this time. Ruggie getting a treat at the donut shop while doing Leona’s errands. I just think this would be a great card series people would pull for
Hii!! I rlly love ur writing and I might have been stalking your page 💀. I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader meets an old guy friend while shopping w Gavi and he gets all protective and jealous. Sorry if that's too specific loll. Thank you!!
LMFAO Idk why I read that as 'the reader meets an old guy (like some pedo sorta shit) while shopping'😭
That's a good one, I hope you like it ^^
"Mi amor, are you sure you want that shirt?"
I couldn't help but smile at my excited, puppy-like boyfriend, who continued tossing all the outfits he liked at me so that he could go and try them all later. "Of course I'm gonna wear there, Y/N. They're exquisite." He tosses yet another black shirt at me. Bro's got like 12 of those already at home, so I don't really get the obsession.
"Sweetie, that's like the 4th black shirt you're buying today." I sigh, exhausted of being used as his personal assistant, who infact, was on a leave today as he missed his family. "Yeah but this one just feels... different." He mumbles, not wanting to keep it away. "You sure you don't wanna try any other shirt?" I raise my brow at him.
"Nope. I'm good." He smiles. "Woah, this one does look good though-" He then walks over to... Guess what?
ANOTHER BLACK SHIRT!
"You know what? How about I just leave all these shirts over here with, uh, Carlos here, and go do some of my own shopping?" I smile inching closer to a corner. "What are you- that's not a Carlos. That's a mannequin!" He points out, but I already dumped all those clothes by the mannequin's foot, and made a dash for the other section.
"Watch where you're going-" I bump into a random dude's chest, falling back and landing on my ass. "You bumped into me, miss..." The familiar deep voice scoffs. "Noah?" I look up, all my anger disappearing, replaced with astonishment and joy instead. "Holy shit- Y/N L/N, that you?" The man recognizes me too.
"I hope so." I chuckle softly, excited to run into my best friend after so long. "Yooo it really is you!" He chuckles, giving me a high-five, converting it to a hand shake then, just like we used to back in high school. "You look so different." He comments, smiling, looking at me up and down. "A lot more... content with life." He elaborates.
"Oh, trust me, I am." I nod. "You don't look too bad yourself." I smile, having so much to tell him, but not knowing where to start. "I'm so happy to see you!" He chuckles. "As am I!" I say, pulling him into a hug. "I just have so many questions." He pulls apart. "And I have so much to tell you!" I say. "But I just don't know where to begin." We both say in unison, making each other laugh.
We both spoke for a while, joked around, caught up on a lotta things, and even exchanged our numbers and shit, because we lost all means of communication after high-school. "So, what are you doing here, all alone at Versace?" He then asks, knowing that I wasn't exactly the sorts who cared about brands that much.
"Shopping with her boyfriend." A cold voice answers on my behalf. "Pablo Gavira, nice to meet you." He then smiles sweetly at Noah, offering him his hand, and giving it a firm shake. "That's me, by the way." He then elaborates, making me roll my eyes. Here we go again... "Pablito, what a pleasure to see you in yet another black shirt." I sigh.
Pablo just smiles at me, wrapping his arm across my shoulder, pulling me into him. He then places a soft, passionate, greedy kiss on my lips, ensuring that everyone here knew that he was mine, and I was his. I just roll my eyes, but kiss him back, keeping it short and sweet. "Oh, I'm sorry... Did I interrupt something?" He then asks innocently, looking at Noah.
"Oh, not at all. Y/N and I were just catching up." Noah smiles, hella amused at what just happened. "My boyfriend's probably waiting for me, so I gotta get going now..." He then checks his phone. "But hey, I'm still up for that Sunday brunch, L/N." He chuckles softly, walking past me, whispering the words. "You better get that dick, girl." Into my ear before walking away, smiling.
"I'm sorry, what brunch are you talking about?" Pablo asks, somewhat confused, mildly annoyed. "Also, did he just say 'boyfriend'?" He then asks, slowly connecting the dots and realizing what happened. I just burst out laughing at his stupidity. "Oh my god- No way..." He turns bright red out of embarrassment. "Yup." I just nod, still chuckling.
May I have some Geraskier for 11. not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd? Bonus love if they're not together yet and this spurs it 💟
11. not wanting to lose each other in a big crowd
Yes of course my sweet, thank you for the prompt! This was a delight to write, I am so soft for them, I simply cannot. Please enjoy my somft boys <3
On Ao3 here Hand holding collection
Jaskier loves cities for the most part. He loves how busy they are, how life is absolutely everywhere. Usually he loves it, that is.
Today there are so many people, it is hard to cross the street. Today, the life of the town is crushing him.
It seems like there is about to be another wedding, one that he spitefully enough wasn't invited to play at. No matter, he is busy anyway. Chasing his muse across the continent, building his fame in every corner of every land. Can't do that from a ballroom, can you, Valdo?
Though it seems like his muse is... gone.
Swallowed by the masses. Lost for a humble bard forever and ever and ever and- oh. There he is.
Bards are allowed to be a little dramatic, he thinks, as the witcher approaches him.
More than one head turns as he passes, some glaring at his swords, some sneaking a peek at that ass. The latter Jaskier might possibly have done once or twice as well, admittedly.
White hair frames his face in that half-up-half-down look he favours nowadays. It really suits him, and that stubble appears in more than one of Jaskier's dreams.
Focus, he tells himself, not focusing in the least.
"So many people today," Geralt mutters when he comes close enough for Jaskier to hear him over the crowd. "Where did you go?"
"Go lost," Jaskier replies with a shrug, not at all admitting to getting distracted by one of the stalls with pretty jewelry. He may or may not have found a little brooch with a wolf engraving. That he might have bought. And hid.
"Can't have that. Come on," Geralt says, grabbing Jaskier's hand, and oh. Oh wait. Oh no, hang on.
Geralt leads him through the crowd, Jaskier hanging on for dear life.
Yeah, alright, so the crowd might be a bit much, pressing in on all sides.
But they have nothing compared to the firm grip around his hand, keeping him close.
Have nothing at all on how Jaskier's heart is in his throat, his insides fluttering and hand growing clammy.
As anyone with eyes could see, Jaskier has a thing for this witcher of his. Well, anyone except Geralt, it would seem.
This thing is making him all kinds of happy and nervous when Geralt casually touches him. Which is happening a lot more recently.
Geralt leads him onwards. Today they have an appointment with the armourer and the herbalist.
After that, the witcher has promised to buy him a new notebook. Jaskier recognizes a bribe when he sees one- he will keep it down when Geralt negotiates his contract. Mostly.
Someone bumps into his shoulder, and knocks him sideways. Jaskier grunts as someone else steps on his foot, and when Geralt looks back at him with a frown, he pulls him closer.
"I hate crowds," he mutters, but right now, Jaskier couldn't love them more. Not if they allow him to bump shoulders with
Geralt, their sides pressing together. Not if it makes Geralt tighten his grip around his hand and look away sharply when Jaskier turns to look at him.
Yeah, Jaskier has a thing for Geralt, alright. Sometimes he imagines Geralt has a thing for him too.
Jaskier ‘forgets’ to let go of Geralt as they visit the armorer, and Geralt laces their fingers together at the herbalist.
"Can't bring you anywhere, can I?" the witcher mutters, and Jaskier allows this game, relishes in it.
Geralt's fingers are sweaty and warm too, Jaskier notes, as he "accidentally" rubs their thumbs together.
This game of theirs, it will be the end of him. And Geralt says he can't focus. Watch him focus on behaving normally like there's no tomorrow, like this is something they always do.
Jaskier only lets go when they come to the book binder's. It is a rare treat, actually, not to tie the loose pages together like he usually does, but to have them sewn in place, complete with a spine and all. Walking down the display, Jaskier sneaks a look behind him in the reflection of the window.
Geralt is looking down at his hand, flexing it when he thinks Jaskier doesn't see. But oh, does he see.
Fuck, this is doing nothing to calm down his heart.
Then he stumbles across the most beautiful thing.
The front is carved leather, the attention to detail making his jaw drop. There are little flowers and music notes, rolling hills disappearing into the distance. It is lovely. It is wonderful.
It is... expensive. Crazy expensive.
Jaskier holds it, touches its front longingly, then puts it down.
They don't have those kinds of funds right now, and he doesn't need that kind of thing, no matter how pretty it is.
Next to it is a simpler, way more sensible notebook. Plain compared to the other, but when he looks closer, he warms up to it.
This cover tells no stories, just the edges adorned with little swirls and stones. Waiting for him to tell them instead.
Jaskier smiles, and then turns to show it to Geralt.
Turns out Geralt is just behind him, way closer than he thought he would be.
Jaskier bumps into his chest, nose and chin hitting the plates on his armor. It hurts, and he steadies himself with a hand before he thinks better of it.
"Made up your mind yet?" Geralt asks, looking down at him. Jaskier shows him his find, grinning.
"This one," he declares happily.
Geralt tilts his head, the adorable bastard, and Jaskier is absolutely not swooning, not at all.
"Really? Thought you would go for the flashier one."
'I did', Jaskier thinks to himself, hiding behind his smile behind the notebook.
Exiting the shop, Geralt grabs his hand again.
The crowd is much thinner now, but Jaskier walks close anyway.
Their fingers are laced again. Nothing can make Jaskier let go of this.
Nothing except their arrival at the tavern, where Geralt will meet his contractor. Retrieving his hand, Geralt coughs and looks away.
"Be good," he says, pointedly not looking at Jaskier.
"When am I not good?" Jaskier scoffs. "Don't answer that."
The contract goes smoothly. Smelly, but smooth. Jaskier would follow Geralt anywhere, except for the sewers, which is coincidentally where he was sent.
Geralt doesn't take his hand again. When they leave town, aiming for the next contract, the witcher rides Roach as usual.
Jaskier's hand isn't lonely at all. He is fine. It is fine.
He has a wonderful book of bribery, and when he is done, it will be filled to the brim with everything he is keeping locked up inside.
If he is lucky, they might go to a busy place again.
If he is even luckier, he might get lost in the crowd.
But he is already the luckiest of them all, with Geralt by his side.
