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Yearning for Our Unicity	By : LuluDreams Category: S through Z > YOU Views: 185 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: all characters belong just and only to the marvelous Caroline Kepnes, Netflix etc, I just own my sick ideas, lol

Chapter List
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Summary:
Shopping is the way!
Notes:
Setting: between 5x8 and 5x9, which means, yeahh.. established relationship again!
Prompt: “Is that my hoodie?” “No?”

Brooklyn guy

Bronte’s POV

“Bronte, would you mind to refresh my memory and explain how you talked me into doing this?” You ask me, as you set the navigator with the address I just gave you.

“Well, it’s pretty easy to talk you into doing everything while we are making love.” I chuckle.

“Thank your lucky star you’re such a good kisser, otherwise I would take in consideration the idea of putting a gag on your mouth when we make love!”

“Mm, new boundaries on our BDSM sessions? I may like it, you know?” I have fun teasing you and judging by the way you’re staring at me you might really take this into consideration.

My ultimate truth? I may like it for real.

“However, Joe, we talked about that. After all that happened and with your initiated divorce proceedings, we are a couple now, aren’t we?”

You use the hand that’s not holding the wheel to caress my thigh.

“We are and I love every time you say it.” You beam.

“And as a couple it’s normal if we also hang out with friends.” I pause. “Well, my friends, since yours happen to live only in the yellowed pages of books!”

“The best friends ever, indeed.” You remark. “But, please, go on.”

“I mean, you saw my friends at the dirtbag literary salon, didn’t you? They don’t need a fancy man around.”

“Fancy man? You’re making it sound like a bad thing!”

Here we go. Now you’re insulted.

“Trust me, Joe, I love your haute couture outfit, but I’d also like to see the Brooklyn guy you used to be… if you know what I mean.”

You smile. Your ego is restored.

“I do. So what are you suggesting?”

“Well, to begin with, less coats and more hoodies!”

And so far not only have I never seen you wearing a hoodie since I’ve met you, but not even in your old pictures when I used to stalk you.”

That’s why I’m expecting the harshest reaction from you.

“Okay, baby, I’m your doll for today. Feel free to dress me up as you please. And then we’ll come back home with a less fancy man wardrobe.” You reply, as calm as possible.

“Okay, where’s the catch? You accepted it way too easily…” I grow suspicious.

“I was just wondering, would you do the same for me?”

“Wearing hoodies and cheap outfits? It’s what I do daily!” I frown.

“I mean, be my doll for a day, touring all the most expensive boutiques Fifth Avenue has to offer.” You clarify. “So, sweetheart, do we have a deal?”

“Only if we make a deal within the deal.”

It’s your turn to frown.

“Such as?”

“I can be your doll to dress, as long as you please, but all those haute couture dresses must remain in the shops. You don’t get to buy me anything that expensive. I don’t love you for your money.”

Without losing sight of the road, you search for my hand and squeeze it.

“You made this clear countless times, my love, don’t worry. And yes, to the deal within the deal; only seeing, without buying. Can I at least take some pictures of you in those dresses?”

“Deal, if only for private use.”

“The one and only use I would aim for.” You smirk.

“Anyway, you know what? One day I’m gonna become a rich best seller so I’ll buy those dresses on my own!”

“Can’t wait for that day, then. I have a feeling it’s not even that far.” You smile at me, reassuringly. “And thank you for pointing out that you don’t love me for my mooney… I know you do for my rare first editions!”

I burst out laughing.

“Geez, Joe, you’re impossible!”

Among chats, mutual teasing and laughter, we reach the destination: a Brooklyn Primark store.

“Beware, Joe, I’m afraid no one here is going to welcome you, offering a flute of champagne.” I can’t resist making fun of you, as I drag you to my favorite spots.

Ripped jeans, Baseball, Basket and Rugby teams caps, T-shirts with cheap prints surround us.
And this is only the beginning.

And you play along, acting all snobby.

“A burden I will have to bear. I guess it’s gonna be such a long afternoon!” You roll your eyes.

With remarkable naturalness you grab the first five items to wear and head to the dressing room.
When the curtain slides again, I confess I have some trouble recognizing you.

To begin with, your hair is disheveled, your curls going anywhere, You’re wearing a large bright orange T-shirt with some skateboard prints, a long sleeve green T-shirt under it, light blue ripped jeans and… are those orange Converse?

“So, what do you think? Is it an okay outfit to meet your dirtbag literary salon friends, whoever they are?” You ask me, right before adding the icing on the cake: a Lakers baseball cap, blue with an orange eyeshade, tipped back.

You’re breathtakingly beautiful and you look even younger.

“More than okay…”

I still have to recover.

“Good. So I’m going to buy all this stuff. While I’m undressing, be a dear and go get me some hoodies. And whatever else you feel I should wear.” You wink at me.

I came back holding another pair of jeans, dark blue this time, a jeans shirt, a denim jacket and two hoodies: an olive green one with zipper and a dark red sweater one.

You try all the stuff and add it to your purchases, grabbing also another pair of colourful T-shirts and a New York Yankees blue hat.

“I’ll tell you what, it was even fun.” You shrug, as we walk towards the cash.

“Looks like I’ve been so fast with my wardrobe issues that now we have time for your part of the deal.” You suggest, once we’re back in the car.

“I guess that the Brooklyn guy gets to see his Hollywood chick.” I agree.

---------------------------------

At the beginning I have the feeling of being inside the ‘Pretty Woman’ movie, because, after all, I'm wandering around in my every-day very simple floral dress and the super elegant shop girls are glaring at me, annoyed and judging.

You seem to notice my discomfort. You hold my hand and walk in one of these boutiques.
You exchange two words with the shopgirls and the minute later they’re treating me like a Princess, advising me about all the possible choices.

Probably it helps that you casted off the Brooklyn guy role and went back to your haute couture shirts and cashmere coat.

When I’m back from the shopgirls’ treatment - who also combed my hair in a smooth mid bud - you almost fall from the sofa and I almost stumble because I’m not used to such high heels Loubotouins.
Which is not so good for my still healing ankle.

But, c’mon, was I supposed to wear trainers with this awesome sleeveless halter neck black, long dress , with a very daring slit?

“Bronte… I … you… wow.” It’s your very eloquent - and damn good for my self-esteem- speech.

You also seem to approve a lot the apple green skirt blazer suit and many other outfit I’m having so much fun wearing for you.

I would lie if I denied I like what I see in the mirror, it doesn’t even feel like me anymore!

But, of course, I wanna be me, this is only a funny game.

That’s why I save the best dress for the grand finale.

When you see me coming towards you with a dark blue, off shoulder, long ball gown, embellished by rhinestones and a deep sweetheart neck line you have so much trouble speaking that you have to drink a flute.

My ego is very, very pleased.

“Please, honey, let me buy you at least this one.” You plead, but I’m not gonna change my mind.

“A deal is a deal. Now let me change and we can go back home.”

---------------------------------------

So, when the day after I arrange the meeting with my friends - the girl I greeted that night and her boyfriend- with that Brooklyn guy outfit you manage to blend in flawlessly and everything goes fine.

After all, they are people you can talk about books with, of course you feel at ease.

Besides, it’s cool to do something as a couple in a public place.

There’s no need to mention that once we’re back home I want a closer and more private and sexy private encounter with the Brooklyn guy.

------------------------------------------

It’s a quiet middle week day, I’ve just closed Mooney’s, while you aid you’d been away all day long, something involving your lawyer, which I totally understand.

I really wish you to find a way to get your son back.

However, in the present time this means that I’m on my own.

After having a good shower, instead of opening my closet, I head towards your drawers.

There’s something I absolutely need to borrow.

That’s how I start my all alone night made of microwaved pizza, several junk food, treats and some movie to watch with my tablet.

Too bad I don’t realize how tired I am.
After not even half a movie I fall asleep.

And that’s how you find me, a couple of hours later.
When I open my eyes, you’re sitting beside me, with a very amused expression.

“Is that my hoodie?”

“No?”

I’m practically denying the purest evidence, since I’m wrapped in your olive green hoodie with the zipper.

Your smile just grows bigger.

“Well, try to understand… It’s so cozy and warm. But mostly it’s a 20 bucks hoodie, I would never wrap myself inside one of your shirts that costs ten times that price, if not one hundred times!” I justify.

You chuckle, leaning closer to me.

“Sweetheart, you can wrap yourself inside everything you please,” you reassure me, caressing my hair, as you grab the zipper and push it down, oh so slowly. “As long as you allow me to unwrap you, after the use!”

And saying that, the hoodie is gone, I’m just laying in lingerie, waiting for you to take all the advantages.
And judging by your lustful, ravenous look I can say it’s going to be a very long, wild night.

Oh, Joe, I guess that from now on I’m gonna borrow every possible clothing from you!

--

THE END
Notes:
Well this prompt had a basic problem: Joe Goldberg (esp. the Season 5 one) doesn’t have hoodies.
And that’s how I fixed the problem! ;P
Plus, I confess, characters wearing clothes for each other in stores are one of my favorite fluffy tropes, so I just couldn’t resist.
I know, I know, at a certain point of the fic Joe got to socialize… this is hard sci-fi.
Feel free to insult me, I guess Joe would, LOL.
See ya tomorrow with more fluff... and maybe some spicy.
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Yearning for Our Unicity

Summary:

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Notes: