caught on the liplock // jaime & lovie

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caught on the liplock // jaime & lovie Apr 20, 2021 23:49:04 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Apr 20, 2021 23:49:04 GMT -5

LOVETT

You might be asking yourself, hey, how has Lovett Sasso been doing?

Well, she stole a shit ton of clothes.

So pretty damn good! Among other things, she's been a productive girl as of late. The rent's paid as always, Jaime's (family's) money takes care of that, and her porn magazine business is booming. The latest edition was filled to the brim of Julian Bryze's scandalous chest pics throughout the decades, an instant hit.

Much better than the last issue, ever since having kids, Atticus has really let himself go. So bad for business, but she in her bedroom, clothes scattered from the bed to the floor to the open window. A bra is strung across the hanging plants, a skirt too small for her floats in the fish tank.

And there she is, five foot seven, sporting a striped dress with a tag labelled solely with initials -- "oh, dude, corny. Gross," she scowls at how pretentious that is, a designer who only goes by initials? Disgusting, really. She stuffs a crop top into her bra, seeing how the dress looks when it's completely filled out.

It's a bit oversized, which is such a compliment, rare are the days a girl can cinch. Lovett stares herself in the mirror, almost gagging on how well she faked a ratio. It's a gasp with every angle, feeling herself in a form not taken too often; she hasn't been feeling like herself, she's been too busy.

But when life gives you lemons, steal clothes from the import strip.

Right?

"OW- OW, OH MY GOD," she clenches her face as she yells into the mirror, squeezing her fists closed as hard as she can to simulate pain, "FUUUCK, JAIME HELP." Lovie spins across the room to unlock the door before running back to the corner of the room, something inconspicuous.

Part of her just likes annoying him, it's a benefit of marriage, really. Lovie tucks her hair behind her neck, posing in the mirror as she waits -- what if she was really hurt? See, it's like, a test. We're gathering information here, dear Jaime.

She sucks her cheeks in, batting her eyelashes at herself. Ugh, love this moment.

"JAAAMISON, I'M DYING.

dars
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— 🥀 —

caught on the liplock // jaime & lovie Apr 21, 2021 0:26:38 GMT -5

Post by dars on Apr 21, 2021 0:26:38 GMT -5

JAMIE

He's high. Like, really high. You see, he's a pretty stubborn guy which means it often takes a couple trips around the block before he finally learns his lesson. This is the third time he has eaten edibles while hungry, and it is the third time he convinced himself that just one more wouldn't be so bad. And he thought for a while that he was right and that he could handle it. But then he realized he has been sitting in the exact same position on the couch for a half hour and he has somehow devolved into the deep shame he thinks he brought to his mother. Not being dramatic; he's literally imagining her standing over him as tall as trees, shaking her finger no at him with a scowl. The same tired eyes she passed down to him full of a lot of things but mostly, he guesses, regret.

And then the next thing he thinks of after that?

I can't remember if Salami is a kind of fish.

As said before: he's high. But he is, at the very least, finally reaching the stage where he is aware of it. Not exactly to the point of caring, but definitely past that line of oblivion. He can move if he wants to. He just doesn't really. Except Lovie bought crinkle fries and cotton candy for movie night later, fuuuuuck. He goes back and forth with it for a couple minutes before finally stumbling his way into the kitchen. He makes a point of opening the cabinet as quietly as he can. She'd be cool with it, but also he thinks if she doesn't see him do it then there is a reasonable doubt that someone else got into it. His hands have no more than closed around the bag of fluffy goodness before her voice cuts through the air.

Something you might need to realize is that Lovett Sasso has some fuckin' pipes. You walk into a crowded cafeteria and the one laugh you can pick out from the crowd is hers. So, hearing her scream from her room- which is right above the kitchen- while he is trying to be quiet? It was loud loud. Almost made him drop the whole bag.

"Wha-?" he says in a voice she probably wouldn't have heard standing right next to him.

"FUUUCK, JAIME HELP."

He scuffles forward, confused, before filing right back to put the bag of cotton candy back in the cabinet and then awkwardly skipping out of the room. By the time he makes it to the stairs, it looks like he's doing that weird crab walk people do when they're walking across a recently-mopped floor.

"Yuh!" he calls, hoisting himself up and swinging his weight onto the railing.

"JAAAMISON, I'M DYING."

He hears this just before reaching the bedroom door. It makes him flinch. He can't just barge in. Last time he did that, he met her latest conquest and it is awkward a hundred percent of the time introducing himself to her fuckbuddies as her husband. He knocks twice.

"Um, Love?" he says, scratching his head, "Were you calling for me, by chance?"

Last Edit: Apr 21, 2021 0:31:01 GMT -5 by dars

^{I AM A GARDEN OF BLACK AND RED AGONIES}

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caught on the liplock // jaime & lovie Apr 21, 2021 1:04:51 GMT -5

Post by Deleted on Apr 21, 2021 1:04:51 GMT -5

LOVETT

He knocks once.

"My arm is falling off!"

He knocks a second time.

She coughs into her fully attached elbow, checking her eyebrows in the mirror as she waits for Jaime to open the door. It's a whole charade, a whole fiasco, you know how it goes. Lovett's a small business owner, she's too busy to- what? Open her own bedroom door to receive fake medical attention?

No sir, "PERHAPS," she yells back through the door. Groaning before making her way to open it, catching Jaime's eye contact- "holy shit, how high are you?!" Lovie's hand flies to her mouth as soon as she sees him; it's like every ounce and gram they had flew straight into this mans mouth.

"One sec- oh, actually can you help clean up?" Man, this place is a mess. She tip toes past the heaps of clothes on the floor, pulling on the jammed dresser draw until it rocks into her stomach. It's contents roll across one another, bottles and tubes and- "eye drops for the mister! You're welcome." Said so sweetly, you'd imagine he actually said thank you.

The vial of eye drops goes from her hand to his, just looking at Jaime makes her eyes dry out. When did he even start smoking? Normally they have to take the whole fire detector apart, else it'll beep the entire sesh and the mood's just off. They're both dumbasses so they can't even just leave it turned off; last time, they fell asleep and woke up with a ramen fire on the stove.

It's hard out here, but a family who hustles together stays together, y'know? "Alright, so to pay me back, I need you to tell me how fat my ass looks in this dress, 'kay?" She slides back to the good lighting, pulling Jaime into the room. Neon pours from the bedroom window, hanging string lights dance above the mirror she models in.

Something about shit lighting just makes a girl feel more confident these days, okay?

Lovett pulls the dress tight to her waist, trying to ignore the bulge around her love handle -- we'll figure that out later. Somehow, someway, maybe she'll learn to stitch her own clothes, maybe she'll try Keto, maybe she'll throw the dress away like the ugly trash it is-

"Let it be known, if you say I have diaper ass then I will be filing for divorce." She moves back and forth, trying to check out every angle while Jaime stands in the back reflection, stoned out his goddamn mind. Stoners are just more honest, you know?

Good company.

"So! Keep that in mind."