#i finished this this morning i just | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

f1zzlest1ckzz · 9 months ago

Text

all i ever wanted is here

word count ; 2.1k (oops)

pairing ; fem!lightfog

extra ; jackie washes nicolette's hair for her ,,,, yaaaaay lightfog yuri ... theyre so obnoxiously soft. anywho

Pushing open the front door, (that was left unlocked, mind you) Nicolette leant herself back in a chair with an ‘Aaaaghh’ sound. She'd been out signing autographs throughout the afternoon and, though she loved all the attention, it had become too loud and too much and she, now, was finally able to chill out a bit. She thought she was alone, after all.

Jackie had let herself in earlier on. Her excuse would be that she had nowhere else to go, but she liked going through Nikki's stuff and using her cutlery and her cups. She liked knowing Nikki's mouth had once been on whatever she was eating or drinking with, so she always made it a point to have tea or cereal when she was at her's. Speaking of, she had a bowl of cereal in her hands. It was sort of stale, like all food in Wellington Wells, but she didn't mind all that much. It was something, at least.

She was sat up on one of the kitchen counters, which were typically cluttered with bowls and cans and bottles, but she'd cleared them before she'd hopped up. ‘Why didn't she just sit in a chair?’ you may ask. It was so that if anyone came into the house, they wouldn't immediately see her. The way the kitchen was built was that there was a wall blocking a view over the oven and counters from where you'd be stood in the front door, no-one was spotting her at a first glance.

That being said, upon hearing the door open, she put the bowl down and, instinctively, picked up her cleaver, ready to butcher someone bloody if it wasn't Nikki. Pushing herself off the counters and stepping a little past the wall, she looked around, not immediately spotting Nicolette, who-

“JESUS FUCKING CHRIST,” Nikki jumped and accidentally pushed herself off the chair she had relaxed on, falling against the wall and whacking her head in the process. “Fucking hell, Jackie..” She whined, rubbing the back of her head.

“Oh!” Jacqueline smiled wide, “It's you!”

Nik scowled, “Well, yeah. You think someone else would waltz in here if the house wasn't theirs?” She rolled her eyes, noticing the weapon Jackie had as she looked up again. “Whyyy do you-”

Jackie went to explain, but.

“You know what? Don't want to know.” She shrugged, grabbing the arm of the chair she was initially on and pulling herself up again with a sigh. Back on that chair, she leant back to support her neck and let her head ache less. “Fuck's sake.” She complained.

Walking over with a gleeful jump in her step, Jackie placed her knife down on the coffee table, within reach (just in case), and sat herself on Nikki's lap. She leant right to lay against her obsession, then twisted herself a little to hold her still and kiss her neck.

Nicolette sighed again, the affection being just what she needed, though she'd never say. She wrapped her arms around Jackie while she was kissed, having a tight grip on the back of her blazer. She hummed, feeling warm from flustering.

Bringing up a hand from Nic’s neck, Jackie gently put it in her hair, brushing through it with her fingers during kisses. She pulled away for a second, “Your hair feels gross,” she said, rather bluntly. Stopping her kisses altogether and sitting up on Nicolette's lap, Jackie spoke again. “When did you wash your hair last, buttercup?”

Nic whined when Jackie pulled away, but didn't physically stop her. She just begged with her eyes for her to keep kissing her. She looked away, “Hmmn…” then shrugged.

“You don't remember?”

Nic shook her head, still not looking at Jackie. She felt a little guilty, not looking after herself. She used to have to. She hated it. The constant routines were so much to keep on top of, and with Joy in the mix, it was hard to remember. She hadn't really had a proper hygiene routine since her days of exclusively being in magazines. Not that she was dirty, per-se, just not washing consistently. No one really noticed, so she didn't care.

“Ohh, daaarling,” Jackie affectionately copied the tone of Nic's whining, “you know you have to look after yourself.”

“I know.” Another sigh, “It's just hard to remember, that's all.” She shrugged. Jackie looked after her too much, she thought. She could take care of herself just fine, she didn't need someone else's interference. Though … It was nice to feel important in a way that wasn't fake. Despite always being fake, Jackie felt real to Nicolette. She was fucking crazy, there's no denying that, but her true colours weren't hidden behind a mask or screen. The mask she wore suited her now.

Anyway, Jackie thought for a moment. “I could wash your hair for you, if you'd like.” She leant down again, against Nic, and twirled her lover's hair between her fingers, “Not that you'd need me to, I just like being helpful.” She tried to come up with some other incentive for Nicolette to let her. “And, besides, I won't be kissing your neck much anymore if your hair stinks of cigarettes.”

Nic growled. “Fine. Whatever.”

Jackie let out a manic-sounding giggle, gently pushing herself up from how she was sat into a stand. She brushed at her skirt with her hands, pushing it back into its usual shape after sitting, then went to turn on the hot water in the bathroom.

As she waited for Jackie to call her over again, as she usually did, Nikki took an extra Joy, hoping it would numb the oncoming headache. Joy didn't give her much of the ‘overly happy’ symptoms, unfortunately. Didn't bypass the depression she'd been dealing with for years, but it was good at numbing the particularly tricky emotional halves of things. And it tasted good, which was probably why she liked it so much. Either way, it's not like Jacqueline was gonna notice. Hopefully.

She had been weird about Nic taking Joy since she stopped being able to. It actually made her quite angry. Whether it was jealousy or not, Nic wasn't sure. She had convinced herself that that's what it was. Jackie was jealous that she couldn't be constantly happy anymore. Nikki never really got it, actually, as Jackie seemed happy without Joy anyways. Maybe it was a front, maybe she shouldn't worry about it so much.

“Water's sorted!” Jackie said from the other room, snapping Nic out of the train of thought she found herself in. “Can you bring a cup through too, buttercup?” She paused, “And maybe a pillow?”

“The hell are you gonna need a pillow for?!” Nic yelled back, gathering the things as instructed.

“Well, I don't expect you to sit on the floor like an animal. Not at this hour.” Jackie giggled at her own joke, then went quiet and waited.

Nicolette rolled her eyes and made her way to the bathroom with a well-stuffed pillow under her arm and a cup in the other hand. Jackie moved out of the way, stood against the wall as she watched Nic put the pillow on the floor, infront of the bath. “Stop looking at my arse, perv.” Nicolette hissed, putting a hand against her skirt and over her ass as she bent down.

“I wasn't! I wasn't.” Jackie looked up at the ceiling, smiling mischievously. She loved to admire Nic, better than anyone else could. She'd been admiring her for years, she knew where each individual mole or stretch mark was placed by memory. She acted as if Nic had been drawn on by gods, the way she worshipped every mark.

Nikki crouched, then got on her knees on the cushion she'd put down. “So, uh,” she started, “how's this gonna work? Do you want me leant over the bath, or?”

Jackie put her hands on her hips, like she was about to tell off a child. “No, silly.” She said affectionately, getting to Nic's side. “This would have been much easier if you had brought in a chair. Uhm,,” She didn't want to be bent down for too long, as it would ache, but there wasn't really a way to avoid it. She sighed, “If you'd turn around, love.”

She put one hand on the bath and the other on Nicolette's shoulder, trying to keep balance as she also got down to the floor. Nic, hesitantly, did as she was told and turned, back against the bath and her head leant over it. This wasn't going to do her headache any favours.

Jackie kissed Nic's cheek, “Good girl,” she said, a smile across her lips, then pulled herself up again using the bath as support. Stepping over Nic's legs, Jackie filled the cup with lukewarm water and put it on the side. She then bent herself over a little and gently placed her left hand under Nic's head, supporting it as best she could. “Stay still for me, buttercup.”

“Mmhmm.”

Grabbing the cup again, Jackie poured it over Nicolette's hair carefully, making sure to not wet her face. Whatever spray Nic had in her hair was stubborn, and the back of her hair was still frizzy and kept shape after the water initially drenched it. “I'm going to let go of you for a second. Stay.” Jackie instructed.

“I'm not a dog, Jackie.” Nic growled, trying to focus on anything else. She hurt, the moisture was uncomfortable. It would have been much easier to not wash her hair at all, but someone is insistent about taking care of her.

“Your conditioner is almost empty,” Jackie commented as she picked it up from the other side of the bath, the side closer to the wall. She, at this point, had sat down on the side so she wouldn't hurt as bad. She put her hand under Nicolette's head again, and dripped some conditioner onto the middle of her hair, combing it in with her fingers after she put the bottle down.

Its style soon came out and the hair obeyed her hands, the clean foam covering them. She then filled the cup again, and poured it again, bubbly water splashing down into the bathtub. She gently scratched at her scalp, getting any remnants of conditioner out of her dark brown hair.

“Have you got any shampoo anywhere, pet?” Jackie tilted her head, softly smiling down to her star.

“Uhhm,,,” Nicolette didn't want to say no. What would Jackie think? Nic would only be disappointing her more from not looking after herself. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at her with guilt.

Jackie chucked a little, “that's okay. Just conditioner and water will do for now, sweetheart.” She went to fill the cup again.

“I'm sorry,” Nic apologised quietly, watching Jackie and listening to the drip, drip, drip of her hair, that was forming a murky puddle of water in the tub.

“Pardon?” She tilted her head again, putting more water over Nic's hair and brushing it through once more while they talked. “What for?”

Nicolette sighed. “For having to take care of me! I'm an adult. I can-”

“Hushshshsh.” Like I've said, she loved looking after Nic, it made her feel special herself. It took her a moment to come up with comfort, then she spoke, focussing more on Nicolette's hair than on her wording. “I adore you, darling, and none of this is a burden on my shoulders. Besides,” she smiled, “you're doing such a good job.”

Nicolette blushed under her happy-mask, “W- well, uhmm, uh,,” She went quiet, then continued, “thank you.”

“Almost done now, dear.”

When she'd finished, Jackie gestured her hands to tell Nic to still stay where she was while she went off and looked for a towel. Why none of this was in her bathroom, she didn't know. Well, she did. Nic kept towels upstairs by her room, in case she spilt a drink or threw up and needed it cleaned. It was an ease-of-access thing.

Nicolette did get tired of waiting for her girlfriend's return, however, and stood up with her hair still sopping wet. She growled again, shaking her head back and forth like a wet dog. Not that it would dry it any faster, it just helped with the discomfort. The top of her dress gained spots of water, her makeup under her mask got a little damp too, making her mascara smudge a little bit. She looked like a mess. She sat down on the closed toilet lid and kept waiting.

Upon her return, with a towel over her arm, Jackie was rambling about something unintelligible before she noticed Nic's makeup. “Ohh, dear,” She cooed, walking over to Nicolette and crouching again, placing her hands on Nic's thighs. “I told you to stay.” She instructed again, this time sounding disappointed.

She tutted, “You've gotten yourself all wet, sunshine.”

#BLLEGGHHGH #i finished this this morning i just #executive dysfunction innit. anywho #lightfog #my writing #also the title is from i will by mitski. because. yeah

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laundrybiscuits · 2 years ago

Text

The officer leans close, jabbing a finger into Steve’s chest. “You’re damn lucky it ain’t ten years ago or one state over,” he growls. “You could be looking at a felony charge, serving 15 to life. We didn’t stand for this kind of thing in Hawkins when I joined the force.”

Steve just folds his arms and gives the officer a bored look. “Okay,” he says. “Good talk. Can I see my boyfriend now?”

The officer sneers, but he steps aside to let Steve through. They’ve got Eddie cuffed to the hospital bed with another gun-toting guard in the corner.

“Jesus christ,” snaps Steve. “He’s not gonna escape, he can’t even walk right now. Why don’t you clear out and give us a little privacy, huh?”

“Sorry,” says the guard, not sounding all that sorry. “It’s for his own protection.”

Fuck. He’s gonna have to hope Eddie can follow his lead. All that practice pretending to be a wizard or whatever has to be good for something, right?

He perches on the side of Eddie’s bed and takes his hand. He can do this. “Hey, gorgeous. How’re you feeling?”

“Uh,” says Eddie, eyebrows doing something hilarious. “Steve?”

“It’s okay,” says Steve. He rubs his thumb over Eddie’s knuckles. This is the most they’ve ever touched, he thinks—the most that was just skin, no layers of denim or leather in between. Not even a layer of blood and dirt.

He swallows and keeps going, willing Eddie to develop freaky mind-reading powers all of a sudden. “I know you didn’t want to tell anyone about us, but I had to, baby. I’m sorry. I had to tell them you were, y’know, with me when…when Jason killed Chrissy.”

“You didn’t have to tell them about us,” says Eddie slowly. He’s giving Steve kind of an intense look. “Honey-pie. I’m sure there’s gotta be another way. One without as many consequences for you that you might not have thought all the way through.”

“There really isn’t,” Steve says. Thank god Eddie’s so quick on the uptake. Sure, he’s being a stubborn dick about it, but at least it doesn’t seem like he’s going to let anything slip.

“Fucking hell,” sighs Eddie. “Don’t suppose we can put that pesky little cat back in the bag. Okay. Darling angel, light of my life, corndog of my soul, who else knows?”

Corndog of my soul, Steve mouths to himself. “Just the cops. And Robin and Nancy, obviously. And—oh, remember Hopper?”

“Do I remember Hopper, he asks. Oh, pudding-pop. The late Chief Hopper and I spent so, so much quality time together over the years; he was practically a father figure to me. And just as with my actual dear old dad, his departure was cause for great rejoicing in Casa Munson.”

“Sorry to break the bad news, then. Hop’s alive, and he—uh, he knows everything.” Steve tries to communicate the scope of everything by kind of tilting his head back and forth. “He’s been…helping.”

“Huh. No shit,” says Eddie. Steve can’t tell whether or not he’s getting it. To be fair, there’s a lot to get. “Okay, gallant knight errant of mine, any news on whether or not I’m getting sprung from this charmingly appointed dungeon?”

“We’re…Hopper’s working on it. That’s why I’m. Y’know. Here. To tell you that they know about us.”

“Cool, right, understood.” Eddie closes his eyes, leaning back on his pillow. It’s so strange to see him in nothing but a hospital gown against white sheets. He looks like a wrung-out dishtowel.

There’s a commotion from outside, raised voices saying something like you let him what and haven’t even interrogated the Munson kid yet and not a legal status you fuckin—

“Time’s up, sweetheart,” says Eddie, mouth quirking up into the ghost of a smile. “Anything else you wanna say before they decide to upgrade my security?”

“Uh,” says Steve. He’d mostly been focusing on getting the basics of Eddie’s alibi across in a convincing way, and he can’t remember if there were any other details Eddie should know.

He hears the door slam open behind him, and panics. “Love you, bye,” he says, and ducks in to brush a quick kiss across Eddie’s chapped lips. The last thing he sees as he’s hauled bodily out of the room by a pissed-off detective is Eddie with his eyes gone enormous and shocked, lifting his uncuffed hand to his mouth, looking and looking at Steve like something is always going to be different from now on, forever.

(ETA: small continuation here!)

#dashed off 90% of this a little while ago based on a post that I now cannot find; I’ve been traveling and finished it up on a train this AM #but yes this is literally the same general premise as bonitabreezy's I Like to See You in the Morning Light #pls go read that instead #I know I’ve lied about this before but I’m really not planning to continue this at all! it is just a silly little thing!#also IANAL but afaik IN decrim’d sodomy in ‘76; 15 to life was the max sentence in MI for first-time & repeat offenders respectively iirc #steddie

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