isa

slowly, she got better. it took time and it took you telling her, once, that the silence made your brain do things. once she did, her messages became unbearably tender. tiny updates throughout the day, pictures of things that reminded her of you, half-finished thoughts sent at three in the morning because she suddenly missed you too much to stay quiet about it.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie treats facetime like the sacred thing it is. there are loose scheduled times that you two try to keep but honestly it just happens whenever it happens. she'll be deep in research at midnight, papers spread everywhere, and you'll call because you just got off your shift and she'll always answer immediately, without hesitation. sometimes you two talk for hours. sometimes you two just exist together on screen. her at her desk, you wherever you are, neither of you saying much. just there, present. it's more than enough.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie has fallen asleep during your calls more than once and this embarrasses her deeply. you have a collection of pictures and screenshots, evidence of her sleeping like a log. one of them has her drooling slightly on her notes. the irony is, you're statistically the more frequent offender; you've fallen asleep on call more times than either of you can count, but ellie's cases are documented and that's what matters. she has pretended, every single time, that it didn't happen. you have let her have this because you sense her embarrassment.

͙͘͡★ will watch you do your skincare routine with her chin in her hand and not say a single word. you prop your phone up against the mirror and just talk, rambling about your day, about your students, about whatever is happening in your busy head at eleven pm. she listens and watches carefully every single time. something about the domesticity of it does something to her that she couldn't name even if she tried.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie who sometimes plays guitar on call because you ask her. at first, she refused but you asked again and then asked again after that. she caved eventually and now it's a thing. her, her guitar in her lap, her phone propped somewhere nearby, playing quietly while you listen. if she's feeling particularly daring she'll even sing a little, just a bit. she acts embarrassed every time, but she's not that embarrassed anymore. she loves it and she loves that you love it.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie who secretly saves every photo you send her, every single one. selfies, coffee pictures, random screenshots, your classroom decorations, your dog, your lunch. it doesn’t matter. her camera roll is basically just evidence that she’s deeply in love with you.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie never gets used to missing you, but also never stops feeling grateful that she gets to. missing you means that she gets to love you and to her that’s worth every ache.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie struggles with the distance more than you do, even if she doesn’t always know how to say it. she isn’t clingy exactly, but she needs and craves closeness. she just feels the distance differently than you do. you miss her terribly but you can hold yourself together with words, the connection sustains you as long as it's there.

ellie needs the words and the physical. she doesn't need much, she just needs something. kissing your temple while passing behind you in the kitchen, feeling your fingers play with the baby hairs at the back of her neck, you, specifically, scratching slow circles between her shoulder blades... she especially misses all the tiny unconscious intimacy.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie who genuinely cannot believe she’s dating you, like actually. sometimes she’ll just look at you and think what the fuck. the prettiest girl she’s ever seen is talking to her... willingly. that's crazy.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie gets sent a lot of pictures per week of your newest coffee creations. little foam flowers, hearts, leaves... one time, somehow, an actual swan. most of these look a little curious but that's okay.

ellie 🦕

oh i know that coffee is fire

you

you don’t even like coffee so how would you know...

ellie 🦕

the barista is gay as hell so i know actually

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie especially loves when your hands are visible in the photos you send her. when she can see your rings, the chipped red nail polish, the little ink stains you get from correcting papers. sometimes there’s glitter stuck to the side of your hand from classroom crafts or faint marker smudges near your wrist. all these tiny traces of your life she’s grown so painfully fond of. tiny fragments of a life she wishes she was standing inside of instead of only witnessing through pictures on her phone.

she stares at those pictures longer than she means to because she misses your hands terribly. misses the feeling of them in her hair, your fingers softly tracing shapes against her arm while talking or the outline of her tattoo, misses holding your hand while walking somewhere with no rush to get there.

sometimes she catches herself staring at a picture and thinking how badly she wants to hold your hands again. not even for long, just once.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie thinks you’re beautiful in a way that actually disorients her a little. especially because you’re not just hot — you’re sweet. she does think that you’re the hottest person alive but also the sweetest. and somehow the combination completely ruins her. because okay yeah your tits are incredible but you also remember little things she says in passing and send her voice notes when you walk home and talk about your kids so lovingly and suddenly she’s sitting there like damn... i’m doomed.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie who sends you bouquets of flowers quite frequently. she found a flower shop near your house and even though they didn't do house deliveries, she got them to do it somehow. the florist on the other end of that call was charmed within thirty seconds when ellie first called and agreed to deliver a bouquet to your house.

it started because you had a terrible week. like genuinely awful — double shift at the café, a difficult class, one of your kids was having a hard time and it was breaking your heart, and you mentioned it to ellie scattered across three different conversations that she was paying close attention to even when she didn't say much.

the flowers arrived next day. you just got home from your classes when your mom called you to the door and there it was, a bouquet of pink flowers with a little card.

"you're doing really good. i mean it. - e"

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie after that, it becomes a thing, though not on a schedule. it just happens when it happens, which somehow makes it more devastating each time because you never see it coming. tucked between the stems there’s always a tiny little note. in it it's not her handwriting, but definitely her words.

"obviously. you studied for two weeks straight. - e"

“i kissed you in my thoughts did you felt it... -e"

"that bus driver will go to hell. -e"

"i beleaf in you -e"

“for my favorite teacher ♡ -e"

"you're worth every mile between us. -e"

“sometimes i think the universe made you specifically for me. like okay. pretty girl who smells like coffee and oranges and kisses me softly. alright man. - e”

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie once opened tiktok late at night and got one of those tarot readings that are now flooding her fyp thanks to you. the woman in the video was saying something like "YOUR PERSON IS A STUBBORN FIRE SIGN WHO MISSES YOU EVERY NIGHT. YOU WILL BE SOON TOGETHER ONCE AGAIN." she was already prepared to scroll past it but she opened the comments and noticed your profile picture in the comments, dead serious:

"i claim this energy ✨🧿"

she laughed so hard she had to put her phone down for a second. still, she found the whole thing weirdly endearing... it was just so painfully you. romantic and earnest without embarrassment. you love things wholeheartedly and openly in a way ellie still still isn't fully used to.

okay, maybe the universe is speaking directly to her girlfriend through tiktok tarot readings. WHO is she to judge.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie teases you relentlessly for your tarot habits but also listens with complete seriousness whenever you start explaining them. she'll sit there nodding while you talk about crystals and energies and card pulls like you're presenting groundbreaking scientific research.

sometimes, she'll pretend to be skeptical just to hear you defend it harder. she even lets you do readings for her and acts deeply unimpressed about it. "this is bullshit.... okay, pull another card though."

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie is incapable of saying goodnight first, you've noticed. no matter how tired she is, no matter what time it is, ellie will not be the one to end the conversation. you have to do it every single time, and even then she always sends one more thing after just in case.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie misses your country’s summers so much it physically pains her, even though she spent the entire time complaining. she genuinely hated it. your room had no AC, only that loud ass fan that sounded like a plane preparing for takeoff and barely helped at all. secretly, she loved feeling your skin warm and sticky against hers. both of you were always too overheated to fully cuddle but still found a way to touch each other somehow; a leg thrown over hers, your fingers sleepily scratching her stomach, her face tucked into your chest at 3am while the fan rattled violently in the background...

she complained about it and yet, she would give anything to be back in your bedroom right now. she misses those horrible sweaty nights more than she can explain once she’s back in jackson.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie randomly sends you songs, and you do the same. it's like another form of communication at this point.

ellie’s are usually late night sends with absolutely zero context. just a link, no caption. just the song and the implication that she heard something and thought of you or thought of herself or thought of the two of you and couldn't not send it.

you send her songs too, even though your music taste is a tad different than hers. she listens to every single song carefully because a song you love is information about you and she wants all the information about you she can get.

your contributions to this arrangement include playlists with titles like songs to kiss me to when you see me again and, inexplicably (or not so inexplicably if she thinks about it), multiple tracks from the shrek soundtrack.

you

this is the greatest song of all time

ellie 🦕

disespectfully i disagree

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie cannot, under any circumstances, maintain a single linear conversation and neither can you. this is a ongoing issue. you will be mid-sentence about something important and one of you will say something that reminds the other of something completely unrelated and suddenly you're three topics deep with no map back. many important conversations have been lost this way. every discussion becomes like ten different discussions stitched together badly.

the solution you implemented, after one too many "wait what were we talking about" moments was the parentheses system because otherwise neither of you would ever finish a story.

you say parentheses out loud and whatever comes after is a detour. you're allowed to go as far off road as you want but when you close the parentheses, you go back, no exceptions. and it works! you actually finish conversations now... occasionally.

both of you say the word “parentheses” out loud constantly because both your brains work at the speed of light apparently.

“PARENTHESES. did i tell you dina and jesse are dating again?"

“okay so my professor said— wait, parentheses. remind me to tell you what happened at the café afterwards.”

of course, you forget to close the parentheses half the time anyway. you absolutely enable each other’s tangents too, neither of you are helping the situation AT ALL.

͙͘͡★ the issue now is nested parentheses, which happen constantly and were not accounted for in the original system design.

"so the kid did the funniest thing— PARENTHESES this reminds me of what you said about the museum tours— PARENTHESES wait that also reminds me of— okay i have THREE parentheses open right now."

"well, close them in order?"

"i don't remember what order i opened them in."

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie actually loves listening to your brain jump around topics though. loves seeing how excited you get when you remember something halfway through another sentence. she thinks it’s very cute!

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie gets sent approximately eight hundred tiktoks per day. genuinely an alarming amount considering you are both busy adults... you send her tiktoks like you're being PAID per video sent. ellie wakes up to at least five notifications minimum on a slow day. she's completely baffled by it, but she still watches every single one, always.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie on the other hand, is an instagram reels person and this is genuinely incomprehensible to you. you receive reels from ellie that were funny approximately four to six months ago. memes that have been dead and buried and mourned.

you

ellie. this meme is from february

ellie 🦕

okay? it's funny

you

it was funny... in FEBRUARY

ellie 🦕

it was funny in february and it's still funny now

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie who receives a good morning texts from you every single day, without fail. even if it's just "gm <3" at 6am while half asleep. ellie wakes up to them and her whole morning is different.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie quietly opens her camera roll and just looks at your pictures for a while when the missing gets particularly bad. she always avoided cameras, even before meeting you. always turned her face away or groaned whenever someone pulled out a phone, but now she wishes she had documented every ordinary little moment that felt infinite at the time. she regrets not taking more pictures so much.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie is a composed person... generally. she acts all cocky over text until you tell her “i’ll send you something later” and suddenly she’s typing like her hands are vibrating because they, in fact, are. her body just responds before her brain can do anything about it. she genuinely shakes in excitement when she knows you’re about to send boobs or ass, like a damn chihuahua. pacing around her room and checking her phone every four seconds.

you figured out very early that you have an extraordinary amount of power in this specific situation and you use it responsibly (well... no.)

ellie 🦕

i was in a meeting????

you

i know 😚

ellie 🦕

ok so you did that on purpose

you

it was on purpose yes

ellie 🦕

i hate you

you

booo you don't

ellie 🦕

were you actually thinking about me or

you

literally yes. i'm thinking about you alllll the time <33

ellie 🦕

okay

i don't have another meeting until 3

you

LMFAOOO

ellie 🦕

what

you

nothing nothing 😇

you're so cute i can't stand it

ellie 🦕

i'm not cute

so about that 3pm window

you

yes els

yes okay 😭

ellie 🦕

cool cool cool

i mean

good

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie literally gets hit with longing at the the most mundane moments that have no business making her feel like this. like, when she's doing the dishes, or when she hears a song you love, or when she wakes up from naps and reaches for you before remembering... just yearning and daydreaming all day long.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie has a moment, just a few months in, where she genuinely cannot see how this works long term and it terrifies her. she almost texts you about it at 2am. instead, she stared at the ceiling for an hour and then send "i really like you" completely unprompted. you answer immediately "i really like you too ILOVEYOUUUU <3333 go to sleep. long day tomorrow"

and the crisis passes, just like that.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie owns an “i ♡ my girlfriend” pin. it’s clipped onto her backpack right beside the one joel got her for her birthday a few years ago. she looks super proud every time someone points it out and will talk about her awesome girlfriend—you, of course. it has never been removed and it will never be removed. it will be on that backpack until the backpack disintegrates.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie gets a summer position doing guided tours for children at her local natural history museum. this is objectively perfect for her and also a disaster because ellie is great at information but not so great at children, or so she claims. she called you in a quiet panic on her second day.

"there's so many of them and they won't stop moving and one of them just licked a bone?"

obviously, you immediately appoint yourself as ellie's unofficial child-wrangling consultant. you had been handling this exact category of chaos for some time now, so you gave her the tips you'd collected the hard way. the advice starts coming in unprompted, but ellie listens to all of it and takes notes.

"okay, if a kid won't stop touching the display, what you do is give them a job. tell them they're the official display guardian. suddenly it's their responsibility to protect it."

ellie tries this the next day, and it miraculously works.

͙͘͡★ so, this becomes a thing. ellie encounters a child situation, texts you, you provide a strategy, ellie implements it, and it works most of the time, so she ends up using your techniques constantly.

“okay guys, if you can hear me clap once!” and suddenly twenty children are listening to her. holy shit. witchcraft? maybe.

ellie starts looking forward to having problems just so she can ask you about them.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie by the end of the summer is genuinely good with the kids on her tours. like actually really good. she crouches down to their level and speaks to them like small intelligent people and gets them excited about bones and fossils they did not care about in the first place.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie has a contact photo of you that you hate with your whole entire heart. it was taken during autumn. you're sitting on a park bench, mikey in your arms, laughing at something off camera — something she said, probably, though neither of you can remember what. you were not aware that she was taking a picture; your hair is messy from the wind and your mouth is wide open mid-laugh, your nose scrunched the way it does when you laugh. mikey is looking at the camera with his whole little face.

you've asked her to change it an ungodly number of times but ellie genuinely loves that picture so much that her eyes go a little watery when she looks at it for a long time.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie is not a words of affirmation person in general EXCEPT with you over long distance. because she can't touch you or show up the way she wants, so she has to say it. and every time she does, you stores her words up like treasure.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie is not sending nudes. this is a non-negotiable that she established early and has maintained with great conviction. she's glad that you respect that completely and never make her feel weird about it.

you, on the other hand, have no such convictions. you send her nudes like you're sending a good morning text. she receives these and has to take a minute because holy fuck? she loves receiving them, loves them BAD. but sending things back? uh, that's an horrifying concept. she just doesn’t feel fully comfortable with it at first, not because she doesn’t trust you —she trusts you completely— she’s just awkward and weirdly shy about it.

the first time ellie sent something, it was completely unannounced. just a mirror picture of her in her sports bra after coming back from the gym.

she slowly starts getting more confident over time, little by little. at first it’s just mirror selfies in sports bras. then maybe the waistband of her boxers peeking out low on her hips, maybe a blurry picture of her stomach while she’s laying in bed... she always sends what she's comfortable with and nothing more, so, her face isn't showing in most of these pictures.

the no face rule is also firm and you think it's actually really cute.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie spends like twenty minutes deciding whether or not to send a picture only for it to be the tamest thing you’ve ever received in your life, but to her it feels insanely vulnerable. she gets embarrassingly proud of herself afterwards too, trying to act all casual while clearly waiting for praise.

ellie 🦕

so

was that like. cool or whatever.

you

i almost passed out in the middle of the grocery store

ellie 🦕

okay relax

you

NO because why are you casually sending me stomach like that ??? happy pride to ME !!!!

need you so bad phone sex isn’t enough anymore actually i’m being serious

and then you said the most explicit shit she ever read.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie gets so flustered when you’re explicit because she never expects it despite the fact that you have literally been dating for ages. you’ll say the most insane out of pocket thing imaginable and she’ll just stare at her phone blinking slowly with her cheeks burning bright red. she secretly loves knowing she can affect you like that, loves when you lose your mind over the smallest things she sends. she still genuinely can’t believe you want her that much.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie is, however, extremely and immediately down for phone sex every single time. her consistency is actually remarkable... this is not something she needs convincing about AT ALL. she's down for it literally every time, there is no situation where she’s turning down phone sex. you could text “u busy" and she’s already plugging her headphones in. the contrast between "will not send a single picture" and "phone call? yes. right now? yes." is something you find both hilarious and incredibly her.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie has a name for you when you're grumpy. it started because you called her once when you were in a sour mood that had no single cause, just the accumulation of a long day. she listened to you rant for minutes before saying, very calmly:

"okay, miss trunchbull."

you got grumpier immediately, which made her laugh. and you cannot stay grumpy through that laugh, you've tried, and it's physically impossible, but you were determined that day so you stayed grumpy a little while through sheer force of will before it cracked you open.

so, she calls you miss trunchbull just when you're grumpy because it makes you grumpier first and then not grumpy at all. it's the most efficient method of fixing your mood and she uses it without shame.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie almost cried tears of joy when your old phone finally died. not because she hated it or anything — she had defended that thing for months actually. “it’s still working” she’d say every time you complained about storage or battery life or the camera quality resembling active surveillance footage. it served you well. it was a good phone. she harbors no ill will toward it whatsoever.

but the second you texted her my phone finally gave up she sat up so fast because okay, that meant you were getting a new one… a better one. with a better camera, probably. which meant she got to see you in HIGH DEFINITION.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie was genuinely stunned into silence for a second the first facetime call after you got the new phone. because suddenly there you were, her girl. all pretty and alive looking on her screen. your face clear and detailed in a way she hadn't seen in months. she could see the exact shade of your eyes, the little moves your eyebrows made while talking, the texture of your lip gloss. the tiny beauty mark in your face that she used to kiss all the time.

her eyes went embarrassingly wet.

obviously, she became immediately unbearable afterwards.

“wait hold on move closer.”

“lemme see your makeup.”

“baby your skin looks crazy good on this thing, what the fuck?"

“wait, smile again”

“okay now turn your head to the side please— wait, you got a new piercing?"

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie did not come pre-assembled for this relationship. opening up —about feelings, mostly— did not come naturally to her. it took time, an embarrassing amount of time, by her own private admission.

joel miller raised her, so one can do the math.

early on she'd go quiet when something was wrong and you'd be on the other side of it not knowing what you'd done or what she needed. more than once you asked are you okay and got yeah and had to decide whether to believe it or not. sometimes you pushed gently and sometimes you waited, but you got good at reading the difference.

she's quite good at it now. not perfect, and she's probably never going to be perfect, but now she'll tell you when something's wrong and she'll tell you what she needs and she'll say it was a bad day and instead of just not saying it and hoping you somehow know.

you think it's one of the bravest things about her, and you love her a little more for that.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie thinks loving you feels a little like adding honey to bitter things. the bad parts don’t disappear completely, but somehow they become easier to swallow.

you are, very literally, the sweetness of her life.

since you got into her life, her days started feeling softer around the edges simply because you were in them. she notices it especially on bad days, because even when everything feels exhausting and frustrating, there’s still this quiet thought in the back of her mind:

i can call her later.

and somehow, that makes everything feel a little more survivable.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie doesn't talk about you much with joel. not because she doesn't want to, it's just kind of weird, so she keeps it brief. like, she mentions you occasionally. "she's good" when he asks about you. "yeah, we're good" when he asks how's everything between you two. joel doesn't push much and she's thankful for that. still, somehow, he ends up knowing plenty about you anyway through little things she mentions.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie whose lockscreen is a strip of those vintage photobooth pictures with three frames.

in the first, the two of you are side by side, just looking at the camera, her arm around your shoulder

in the second frame, you've turned toward her, one of your hands grabbing her face with absolutely zero gentleness, and you're kissing her cheek so hard she has her eyes closed. her expression is somewhere between laughing and suffering, even though she was delighted.

in the third one you're sitting in her lap and you're kissing her properly.

she’s changed phones twice and somehow the lockscreen always stays the same. she's never changed and never will because you look so pretty in it. she's told you this more than once and she's not saying it to be nice, she's saying it because it's just true.

once she admitted very quietly that she likes it so much because it captured you exactly as she remembers you, just loud and sweet and all over her in the most loving way possible.

“i dunno,” she shrugged afterwards, all awkward about the vulnerability. “you just look really happy with me in them. i like it.”

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie sends you a picture immediately every single time she sees hello kitty and spiderman together anywhere. doesn’t matter where she is. random stores, at the shopping, on gas stations, when she's doing her groceries... you best believe she’ll stop dead in the aisle to take a picture.

ellie 🦕

thought you should know we’re apparently luggage now?

ellie 🦕

you and me

ellie 🦕

i got these two. they reminded me of us

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie stole your hello kitty plushie before leaving. technically, you let her borrow it while she stayed in your place, but one day she left with it tucked under her arm and never gave it back.

in her defense, she fully intended to tell you before leaving. then she forgot. she got back to jackson and unpacked and there it was, sitting in her lap looking guilty as hell. you discovered the theft like four days later.

you

ellie. WHERE IS MY DAUGHTER?

turns out, she underestimated how emotionally attached you were to that thing. she should've known, of course, since it was very obviously beloved. poor thing looked like it had survived several wars. one eye missing, fur all faded and discolored, stuffing slightly lumpy from years of being held too much. maybe that’s part of why she loved it immediately.

eventually, after a long dramatic exchange where you accused her of kidnapping and demanded visitation rights that she had to pay, you relented.

you

okay okay okay… you can keep her

take care of my daughter please ☹️

now it sits on her bed in jackson like it belongs there. she uses it as a pillow sometimes, mostly when the missing you thing gets particularly bad. not because it’s comfortable but because it smells like you. like coffee, your shampoo, and that sweet clean scent that clings to your sheets. every time the smell faded a little more she genuinely felt devastated.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie cannot peel an orange without getting nostalgic.

it’s genuinely baffling to her how specific the memory is, too. every time she peels one, the memory just hits her. the juice on your fingers, the smell sharp and sweet in the warm air.

it's this really specific memory: the two of you sitting outside in the sun, eating oranges like two elderly people with nowhere to be and nothing to do. you beside her, handing her a piece before she asked.

you’d peel them together and leave little piles of orange skins between you while talking about absolutely nothing.

it was genuinely nothing. no special occasion, no milestone. just a random afternoon in your backyard eating oranges in the sun because you insisted you needed “vitamin D and enrichment,” so you dragged ellie outside with a bowl of oranges.

she'd been so hot that day, she remembers. she'd also been so happy, but she hadn't said that part out loud.

every time she peels one, she immediately gets hit with this horrible ache in her chest because suddenly she could practically hear your voice again in her ear.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie has a locket with a tiny photo of you inside it.

you both do. they're small matching ones in silver, heart shaped and worn from constant use — your idea, which she called cheesy and agreed to in the same breath.

inside hers there’s a tiny picture of you on one side and a picture of the two of you together on the other. inside yours, the same. just ellie where you were. the photos are cut unevenly because you were laughing too hard while trying to trim them with tiny scissors.

she touches it constantly without realizing.

when she’s stressed, her fingers drift there automatically. when she’s tired. when she’s thinking. when she misses you. she’ll rub her thumb over the edge of it absentmindedly over it.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie knows the distance is hard and ugly sometimes. there are nights where missing you sits so heavy in her chest she genuinely doesn’t know what to do with herself besides call you and listen to you breathe for a while. there are days where the time difference frustrates her so badly she has to put her phone down and walk around the block before she starts feeling too miserable about it.

but still, underneath all of that there’s certainty. quiet certainty, but certainty anyway.

it won’t be like this forever.

maybe she’ll come back to you, or maybe you’ll come to her. maybe it’ll take longer than either of you want, but it will happen because she’s sure of it, like the way she’s sure the sun rises every morning in the east. it's not blind optimism, just faith. in you and in what this became. faith in the fact that loving you has rooted itself too deeply into her life to ever become temporary

she doesn't know when it will happen and she's made peace with it, mostly. the logistics are complicated, after all. visas, flights, money, schedules and a thousand more small bureaucratic obstacles that stand between two people who just want to be in the same room again.

she knows all of them by heart. she's been working through them one by one, but she doesn't talk about it much. doesn't say i've been researching flights or i asked about visa requirements again or i've been putting money aside every month since i got back. she just does it without fanfare.

you know, anyway. you can tell by the way she says when instead of if. always when. from the very beginning, it has always been when.

when i visit.

when you come to jackson.

when we're in the same place again.

when i see you again.

when, when, when.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie works so hard for it too. probably harder than you realize. taking extra shifts at the museum and saving money whenever she can, researching programs for once she graduates and jobs late at night when she should be sleeping.

she's building a bridge back to you, piece by piece. slowly but surely.

͙͘͡★ bittersweet!ellie once told you, after one particularly difficult night apart:

“i don’t know exactly how yet. but i know i’ll find my way back to you.”

and she meant it with her whole heart.

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⋆｡° ⋆ ˖ a/n:

honey-sick because... homesick. but honey. because she misses you and you’re the sweetness of her life. get it... 😚 maybe it sounded better in my head BUT WHATEVER. maybe i’ll rename this part later hehe

this was originally written as a little extra or as companion piece for my one shot bittersweet, but honestly i think it can be read as a standalone too. it’s basically just ellie and reader being painfully in love across several time zones and trying to survive it <3 also this is my first time writing in this format so i genuinely have no idea if i did this correctly LMFAOOOO but i had so much fun writing it. these two mean everything to me actually. like genuinely i think about them all the time

i wrote this in one sitting and didn't proofread it so the tenses are probably all over the place i’m SO sorry i’ll probably fix them later. or not..

anyway thank you so much for reading ♡ and if you have any requests or thoughts about these two PLEASEEE send them my way because i will take literally any excuse to write more of them 😚 mwah

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗 :

𝑂𝑁𝐸 •

“Yeah, c’mere,” she beckons enthusiastically as she awkwardly maneuvers into a cross-legged position. You giggle at the way she struggles to push away from the headboard. 

“How did you even get into that position?” you ask her through a laugh. 

“I’m flexible,” she replies with an over-exaggerated wink. You snort, but her response warms your cheeks. 

As she finally settles down in front of you, straightening her askew t-shirt, you mirror her. Bare knees touching. That single point of contact makes the thin skin there tingle. 

Her skin is warm despite her open window inviting in the cool, summer evening air. The light fabric of the curtains billows in the gentle breeze, the material brushing together, making a quiet shushing sound. It’s soothing. Especially in concert with the symphony of nocturnal insects singing in the grass.

Ellie holds the joint out to you. You glance down at it, fiddling a bit with your fingers before flitting your gaze back up to her. Nerves bubble up in your stomach at the prospect of doing this for the first time in front of her. 

“How do you do it?” you ask, feeling a bit stupid. Her proximity tends to have that effect on you. The moment she moves into your space or her skin comes into contact with yours, your brain short circuits. Struggling to properly form full sentences or fill your lungs with air. 

Tonight, it feels especially difficult to function around her. Maybe it’s because you’re in her bedroom. On her bed. And she looks so pretty wearing her short hair in a half-up, half-down style. The weed’s also mellowed her out quite a bit, her eyelids drooping slightly. 

“Here,” Ellie laughs kindly. You know she isn’t laughing at you. There’s not a malicious bone in her body. At least not one reserved for you. “I’ll show you.” 

Pink lips wrap around the joint and inhale. The cherry glows orange as she pulls the smoke in. Then it fades into the colour of burnt ash when she removes it from between her lips. The thick smoke curls up toward the ceiling as she releases it, momentarily clouding her attractive features. 

You press your lips together, pinching your leg lightly. Ellie smiles reassuringly as if to say see? easy then takes another pull. You swallow, feeling a little dizzy watching her. 

“C’mon,” she encourages through a soft laugh, her voice thick with smoke. Artificially a bit deeper as she speaks. Goosebumps rise on your arms at her suddenly— temporarily—low timbre. “It’s easy, I swear.” 

God, it’s like she’s trying to make you wet. 

You’re about to pluck the joint from her fingers. 

“Wait! I have an idea!”

You flinch at her sudden outburst, your hand at your heart. “Jesus, Ellie!”

“Sorry, sorry!” she apologizes, still giggling a little as her free hand rests atop the one you’ve settled on your chest in consolation. Your heart stutters in your ribcage, like she’s holding her palm directly over the exposed vital organ. Telling her it’s okay, admittedly stuttering on the first syllable, before her hand returns to her lap. 

Ellie clears her throat. 

“Um,” she says, her expression momentarily distracted before a lightbulb appears to turn on. “Yeah, so. Open your mouth a bit.”

You quirk your brow at her, your stomach dropping in a rush. Hoping the surprise doesn’t bleed through your masked features. 

Ellie nods reassuringly, her eyes soft. You swallow. Following her instruction, you part your lips. Only a bit more than you might when you kiss someone. The thought warms your cheeks, again thinking of the way her tongue swipes over the rolling papers.

Taking another long toke from the joint before she leans forward, Ellie’s knees press harder into yours. The warmth in your cheeks only spreads to your neck and chest as she leans in closer, casting a phantom shadow into your lap. Her eyes–with a pinkish tint to them now–flit to your mouth then back to your eyes again. 

When your lips brush softly your breath hitches.

Then, she blows the smoke into your mouth and you inhale shakily. Staying still and keeping your lips parted until she’s finished transferring the smoke from her mouth to yours.

A burning hot mirage sizzles between your bodies, like a tangible, raw tension. For a moment too long, Ellie lingers in your space, a crease forming between her brows. Trying to break through bone, muscle, and flesh to get to her, your heart hammers against your ribcage as you draw in shallow breaths. Your knees press together, lips just barely touching. Ellie’s dark, expressive eyes search yours. Mildly, she smells of pine and of sheets fresh from the laundry, and of course, of weed. You want to bury your face in her neck and breathe. Feel her hands on your body. Let her touch you. 

Ellie pulls away a little, your faces barely separated.

“How was that?” She whispers, her voice soft. 

Without so much as another breath, you reach out for her and kiss her. Nothing more than the tender press of your mouth against hers, but it feels like something has snapped. 

When you pull away, your eyes are wide. Over the years, your feelings for Ellie have intensified. What started as a small crush soon morphed into a throbbing heart reaching out for her. And you knew you loved her when you couldn’t look at her anymore without it feeling like she was squeezing your heart in her fist, letting your warm blood rush over her fingers. So, of course your all-consuming feelings for her were bound to bubble up and spill over like an unattended pot of water on the stove. It was just never your plan for it to happen so impulsively. 

Ellie only stares at you, kissed lips parted. Evidently just as stunned as you. You are almost immediately apologetic. Apologizing profusely as soon as the shock has subsided enough for you to stutter out a shitty half-explanation. 

Abandoning the joint in the ashtray you made for her birthday on her bedside table, you prepare yourself to flee the scene. Terrified that she will be angry with you. That you’ve done irreparable damage to your relationship.

But then, Ellie grabs your face in her hands and kisses you back. 

The shock lingers shortly before you melt into her. Shoulders slumping as your hands fall to her bare thighs. They remain there as Ellie shifts onto her knees without breaking the kiss and pushes you down onto the soft comforter. Her body on top of yours. A welcome pressure as your stomach drops like you’re on the decline of a rollercoaster going 100 kilometers an hour. 

One moment you’re walking past her bedroom, she’s calling your name and inviting you in. And now…Now she’s kissing you. And her warm hands are on your cheeks. And her tongue is tracing your bottom lip like you’ve seen her do with the rolling papers a thousand times. And when she licks into your mouth, you moan. 

A thin line of spit connects your mouths when she pulls away. It’s surprisingly erotic as it snaps when you breathlessly whisper, “I need you.” 

Wasting no time at all, Ellie–just as out of breath as you in your haste–tugs your top off and makes quick work of your bra. She kisses a white-hot trail fervently down your neck, a final kiss pressed to the sensitive skin just below your ear before whispering, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Searing warmth knots your stomach in response to her surreal statement. “Me too.”

You feel her smile against your neck as she kisses her way down, sucking the skin there softly. Your sharp inhale marks the moment she pulls away and scrapes her teeth over the tender bruise. 

“Ellie.” 

Warm hands follow the path of her kisses down your neck, chest, belly. Like she’s pouring salt into the wound but instead of a painful sting, it’s a sweet pleasure. Every single cell of your skin reacting to her touches, completely oversensitive. 

You gasp, a sound daringly close to a moan, when her wet mouth envelopes your nipple. Back arching off the bed slightly as she tongues the pebbled flesh. The scrape of her teeth over it elicits a high whimper from your throat in the form of her name, the final vowels tapering off into a whine. Her eyes remain on your face like she wants to watch you feel it. To see your lips part and your eyelids flutter. 

She kisses the skin to soothe it and with a soft whisper of you’re so pretty she moves on. When she reaches the spot just above your navel, her darkened eyes connect with yours and your need surges. With every breath that fills your lungs, salacious want fills your belly. You have to tug her back up to you so you can kiss her. She comes willingly, a smile playing at her lips before they meet yours in a deep kiss. Her hand delicately held beneath your jaw. Gentle as she slowly sinks her teeth into your bottom lip. 

“Please,” you beg once you’ve had your fill. Her mouth is addictive. It’s hard not to kiss her. 

“Want me to touch you, baby?” 

You nod ardently, chest rising and falling quickly with shallow breaths. 

“Yeah?” Ellie confirms, mirroring you. 

It’s so fucking inexplicably hot you might explode. Need expressed through kisses pressed tenderly to her jaw and neck. The skin there is sensitive and soft. Ellie sighs blissfully, tilting her head as your hand draws up her back to cradle her neck. 

Urgency outweighs efficiency as she shoves her hand down the front of your shorts. Without blinking, her fingers are inside of you and you toss your head back with a moan, hips rolling forward. Her index and middle fingers sink slowly into your wet, gummy walls. Pulling her in, like a sailor to a siren song. 

“Thereee you go,” Ellie coos, looking down your body at her hand under the cotton fabric of your shorts. Her knuckles press up to make a temporary impression in the material as she slides her fingers out and then in at a rhythmic pace. Her gaze returns to your face as you sigh. “That feel good, baby?” 

Your mouth drops open on a particularly deep stroke and your hand instinctively flies down to grip her arm. Feeling the tendons and muscles flex beneath your grasp as her fingers thrust inside of you. 

Eyebrows scrunched together in pleasure—the buildup to this making the moment that much sweeter—you moan, spurred by the hungry look in her eyes. She nods a little, like she’s encouraging you. Deliberately coaxing sounds from you with every flex of her wrist and curl of her fingers inside your heat. Chests pressed together as you arch into her, your bare tits squished against hers over her t-shirt. 

“You’re mine,” she whispers as her fingers curl deeper inside. With her thumb on your clit, you moan again and you swear your eyes roll up into the back of your head at her proclamation of ownership over you. 

“Yours.” It’s this agreement that inspires her to tug her hand free. To suck your wetness from her fingers. She licks her lips immediately like she’s savouring the lingering taste on her mouth.

Sitting up and leaning back on her heels, she briskly unbuckles her belt. The clinking metal causes heat to sink into your stomach like a stone. Raw need for her prickles beneath your skin, nerves exploding like fireworks in the night sky.  

Your own hands fly to her waist–equally as impatient as she is–to help her tug her belt from the loops before tossing it away, not caring in the slightest where it ends up. With it goes her pants and her boxers. Your chest floods with warmth at the sight of the chequered pair she wears. Her commitment to flannel makes you smile, but right now your only goal is to get her naked. Working together to do so, your hands brushing as you tug her jeans down her legs. The process probably takes longer than it would have if she’d just done it alone, but you’re both giggling softly as you struggle to pull her jeans off her foot. And when her legs are finally freed, it’s a race to invade each other’s space again. 

Her freckled cheeks are flushed pink as she pushes you back down onto the bed with a hand on your chest, straddling you sideways. Your warm, naked bodies finally coming together. Socked feet planted on the bed, your legs spread wide to accommodate her with her knees pressed into the mattress on either side of your leg. 

The moment she settles over you, your cunt’s kissing, you gasp sharply and Ellie huffs. Your wetness combines, smearing across each other’s lips as she starts to roll her hips over yours, and her head falls back on her neck as you moan in tandem. “Shit.”

Her hands find your knee and the apex of your thigh to steady herself as she begins to ground her hips down against yours more urgently. You match her rhythm, rolling your hips in sync with hers, your clit’s bumping, causing a striking zip of pleasure to sear your skin. 

“Ellie!” you whine, heat twisting in your stomach. The both of you angling your hips just so, seeking that sweet friction over your clits again. The constant sound of the crickets outside the window is drowned by the soft noises you make. Their song is a distant thought as you fill the room with shocked moans when your clits rub together again on one rough thrust. 

“That’s it…That’s my good girl,” she pants. The praise is just as good as the friction between your bodies.  

When you lean up to press your lips to hers with urgency, she meets you halfway. Whining into her mouth hotly as she rolls her hips at a different angle. The kiss is searing, your tongues curling around each other before you fall back into the mattress. 

“Look at you, God. Feels so g-good…Fuck,” Ellie rambles. 

“Mmf…” you whine, finding it excessively challenging to be coherent when her pussy is rubbing against yours. “Y-you’re so pretty, Ellie.” 

Her name feels sweet on your tongue. 

She really does look gorgeous on top of you. Never got the chance to remove her top, too focused on getting what you both needed to do away with the garment. Her pretty face is contorted with pleasure, her soft lips parted as she pants. The practiced and controlled way her hips roll, the obscene sounds that the friction between your wet cunt’s ellicits. 

“Th-thought…th-oh, god-” you begin, cutting yourself off with a high moan as she picks up the pace a little, stars bursting behind your eyelids when you squeeze them shut. 

Ellie’s hand on your cheek, thumbing over the soft skin amorously, coaxes your eyes back open. “What, baby?” 

You chuckle a little deliriously at your train of thought diverging off the tracks so easily. Ellie smiles, her thumb affectionately sliding over your bottom lip now. It’s distracting, like she’s pulling a lever on the proverbial tracks in your mind, forcing your attention in a different direction. You try your best to stutter out the words anyway. “Thought about this s-so many t-times.” 

Every sensation is so blissful you don’t think twice about the way you struggle to speak. Pussy drunk and stupid. 

“Yeah?” Ellie slides her thumb into your mouth and your tongue automatically licks over the digit. Humming in agreement around her thumb, your eyes drift shut as she deliberately draws it around your tongue. You suck softly before she pulls it from your mouth to drag her hand down your chest. Painting your skin with spit. Drawing her lip between her teeth as she palms your tits, continuing to roll her hips.

“Right there!” you cry. 

“Fuck,” Ellie groans. 

She diligently flexes her hips at that same angle, maintaining that pressure as your breaths become increasingly more shallow. Intense gaze trained on your face, taking cues from the way it contorts to bring you pleasure. 

“Cum for me.” Ellie’s voice is soft when she speaks, begging. 

Your climax creeps up on you, starting slow and lasting long. It’s drawn out, your cunt spasming around nothing as your belly tightens and fills with heat. Wanton moans spilling from your lips, high and pitchy as you watch Ellie ground her hips fervently against yours. Then she’s moaning your name and tossing her head back.

All you feel is warmth between your bodies as your chests heave. Collapsing onto the bed beside you, Ellie draws in deep breaths. Your muscles relax as she pulls you to her chest, your face pressed into her dewy neck. 

“I love you.” The admission is as impulsive as your first kiss, slipping out with little thought as you catch your breath. 

There’s hardly a moment for your face to flush with embarrassment before she presses a kiss to your forehead, says, “I love you.”

You pull back to look at her then, and the moment your eyes catch hers you both end up giggling deliriously. Still living off the highs from your climaxes and the thrill of this first night together. Feeling as light and sweet as the summer air. 

Warm hands cup your cheeks before she kisses you again, this one slow and soft. Loving. Pouring out all of your feelings for each other into this one kiss. Sneaking in another two or three after she pulls away, making her laugh against your lips. As your eyes drift shut in satisfaction, your foreheads press together. 

Ellie entangles her legs with yours, kissing your neck, your shoulder. Caressing your cheek softly with her thumb. You lean into her touch, your eyes meeting hers. Her gaze is soft as her knuckles run down your arm adoringly. You card your fingers through her hair, brushing strands away from her pretty face. Kissing her cheeks, the freckles beneath her eyes. 

In the fading evening light, Ellie wraps her strong arms protectively around you. “Stay with me.”

thank you so much for reading! please reblog and let me know what you thought!

But when admissions of love spill relentlessly from your lips, Ellie can’t help but feel like the girl that she was a few years ago–the one that could barely string together an intelligent sentence while in your presence. 

Case in point–you wanted to get drunk in a shitty dive bar, or spend the night dancing at a club? Ellie was there. 

And Ellie was there, as in currently–as in she had even changed from a hoodie, to a flannel when you had declared that you needed a night away from your laptop and the reminders of the existence of deadlines. 

You were missing her at your side though, as you had ventured into the bar bathroom alone–something that was out of the ordinary for you. Normally your girlfriend always went with you–buddy system, safety in numbers and all that–and also so that you could chat away with her when the lines were too long. You weren’t even entirely sure why you had come to the bathroom alone this time… something about the bar being crowded tonight and you didn’t want to risk your spot getting taken, or something. Ellie was holding it down for you. 

Still, as you stumbled out of the stall and toward the sinks and mirrors, you felt a sharp pang of longing as your gaze landed on a small group of girls–laughing in an unfiltered manner and taking selfies in the corner. You knew that Ellie was only several feet away, and you would quite literally be seeing her again in a matter of seconds. It’s not like the two of you had to be attached at the hip, but the very fact of the matter was plain and simple–a drunken bathroom trip was no fun without your girlfriend. 

As you washed your hands, you met your own gaze in the bathroom mirror. The world around you felt as though it were on a three second delay, and you could hear the music booming from beyond the bathroom. 

There was no tiny bar filled with older men and country music tonight–you had gone just a bit out of town to find a place that better suited your age demographic. It was louder, darker, more crowded. 

You blinked at your reflection, eyes glassy from the drinks that you had so far consumed throughout the night. Your thoughts shifted to Ellie, and an automatic smile tugged on your lips. You knew that she was sitting alone, waiting for you, so you hastily dried your hands. 

Feeling just a bit uncoordinated and weighted, you pushed through the bathroom door with your elbow, and were greeted by the loud atmosphere washing back over you at once. Whatever upbeat song was playing just served as fuzzy background noise as you focused on making your way through the crowd to return to Ellie. You were eager for her–drunk and wanting to tug gently at her freckled cheeks, to watch them tint pink under your touch.  

Despite not catching sight of her just yet, your smile remained at the mere thought of her. When your gaze did find her across the bar, your heart thumped with affection. 

Ellie was on the other side of the bar and sitting at the small table that the two of you had previously claimed upon arrival–exactly where you had left her. She was sipping a beer, her flannel sleeves rolled up just so, her tattoo on display. She was squinting a little due to the dim lighting, and she was… 

Talking to someone? 

You paused your steps, craning your neck slightly as a small group of people were standing in the way, nearly blocking your path and your ability to see. The corners of your lips twitched, your brain seemingly unable to decide whether you should smile or frown. 

There was a girl lingering near Ellie, leaning casually against the table–your table–as she spoke. You couldn’t hear anything, obviously, due to the loud sounds around you. You could, however, see the way in which the unfamiliar girl cocked her head to the side when she spoke to your girlfriend. You could see her adjusting her top, fluffing her hair, and smiling as Ellie had responded to whatever she had said. 

You gave a slight shake of your head, almost feeling tempted to pull out your phone and record the moment to save it as evidence… because Ellie was oblivious. She never seemed to grasp when she was being flirted with–could hardly comprehend it even when it was blatantly spelled out for her. The two of you had danced around each other for so long before finally getting together, due to the fact that you had been too shy to make a move, but Ellie had clearly been determined not to ruin the friendship. You finally had to get the guts to make the move, which had obviously turned out for the best. 

Admittedly, you were a little amused watching the scene unfold from where you stood. You felt slightly bad for your girlfriend, knowing that she was probably feeling awkward… but still. 

The other girl–the stranger–shifted her standing position so that she could be a bit closer to where Ellie was sitting, giving up good posture in favor of leaning closer toward Ellie. 

Amusement still lingering, you expected to see Ellie shift awkwardly in the wooden chair, or to start scanning the bar in an attempt to look for you. 

But she didn’t. 

A crooked smile appeared on Ellie’s lips. She leaned back comfortably in her chair, knees spreading as she took a slow sip of her beer, her gaze locked with the other girl’s. 

Your smile faded. With your stomach suddenly giving a weird lurch, you stood still and analyzed… whatever that was. 

It’s just that Ellie looked comfortable, which was out of the ordinary for her in an environment like this. She didn’t really love attention from strangers, but Ellie tilted her head to mirror the other girl, the two of them suddenly laughing. 

Right. Okay. 

You swallowed hard, unable to determine if you felt a little too drunk now, or too sober. Because the girl only seemed to be standing closer and closer, and Ellie’s knees continued to spread to make more room for the girl. That girl didn’t need that much standing room–not that close to your girlfriend, at least. 

The song playing within the bar changed, causing an energy burst throughout a nearby group of girls. One of them accidentally bumped into you and apologized, but you didn’t respond–didn’t even attempt to mutter anything in return, because why was Ellie holding such intense eye contact with that girl, even as she continued to take slow sips of her drink? 

You felt uncomfortable watching. Maybe it was just because you had too much to drink. Or maybe it was because you’ve never seen Ellie so at ease while speaking to a stranger before. Maybe it was because the girl invading your girlfriend’s space was pretty–like… belonging in a Miami club instead of a random, shitty Wyoming bar. Her clothes fit like a glove, and her hair wasn’t even frizzy despite the warmth inside of the bar. 

You were secure within your relationship. It was solid. But something within you rapidly began to ache as Ellie made no effort to put any distance between herself and the girl, even as she reached out to adjust the collar of Ellie’s flannel. 

Ellie could be oblivious about flirting advances, but she wasn’t stupid. 

You hesitated, morbidly curious to continue to watch the interaction unfold, despite the fact that your palms were starting to sweat. 

The unfamiliar girl reached out an apparently very confident hand, and you stretched your neck just in time to see her trace her fingers along Ellie’s tattooed forearm. Ellie did not lean away from the touch. Instead–crooked smile still in place–she lifted her other arm, casually wrapping it around the girl’s waist and tugging her just the slightest bit closer. 

You could’ve been sick on the spot. 

You had been gone for maybe five minutes. Had you been forgotten that quickly? Or did Ellie just simply not fucking care? 

Head dizzy with alcohol, disgust, and upset… you stared at the sight of the two girls chatting and laughing as if they had even actually known each other–until your eyes started to go blurry. Ellie never even glanced in your direction, didn’t notice that you had returned from the bathroom and were standing just several feet away. If she caught you in her peripheral, she didn’t seem to care. Her green eyes remained locked on the girl standing directly in front of her, while your eyes started to sting.  

══════════════

Ellie slept peacefully, without any guilt. Her arm was slung around you, her chest pressed against your back. 

You, on the other hand, were having a fitful sleep. Your mind was filled with images of Ellie’s smile–your girlfriend’s smile–directed toward another. You saw flashes of her hands that you absolutely adored–and admittedly worshipped–reaching for some random girl’s waist. 

You were barely conscious, but you had a lump in your throat. Too upset to stay asleep, you started to stir. 

The first thing that you actually registered was Ellie’s nose against your shoulder, and her arm around you. Just like it had been around that girl. Still in that hazy space of existence between sleep and wakefulness, your elbow and leg both shoved backward. 

“The fuck?” Ellie rasped, jolting out of her peaceful slumber due to the sudden jab. 

You didn’t acknowledge her, and instead curled into yourself. 

“Why the fuck did you– Hey?” Ellie managed, her voice low and slightly hoarse with exhaustion. The bedroom was dark and her eyes weren’t adjusted, but her gaze shifted to your form anyway. Ellie propped herself up on one elbow, squinting to look at your back. “Babe. What the hell?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, unable to rid yourself of the hazy images dancing throughout your mind. Still, you managed one shaky sentence. “I’m pissed at you.” 

Ellie blinked, her eyebrows furrowing. “You’re… what?” 

“I’m pissed at you,” you repeated, your voice slightly muffled by your pillow. 

Immediately, Ellie’s stomach dropped. 

She’s heard you call her annoying through your laughter, and she’s heard you jokingly call her rude whenever she deadpans a joke. But this? Just a blatant I’m pissed at you with no hint of lightness in your tone? Ellie hasn’t heard that before. Hasn’t wanted to hear it, and never wanted to hear it again, quite frankly. 

Ellie was essentially frozen, staring at your back like it could help her figure out the sudden cause of this. She swallowed, her jaw working as she desperately tried to clamp down on every insecurity and fear of abandonment that suddenly seemed to flare. “Why?” Ellie reached out a hesitant hand, allowing it to hover before she rested it gingerly against your back. 

At the question and the gentle touch, you were torn between melting and going rigid. She was so fucking sweet, and so careful when she had to be. And yet, those fucking images– 

“Because. You and this girl, like, laughing… and shit. And touching. And you were drinking a beer, and–” 

Ellie blinked, forehead creasing as she listened to your tired, upset mumbling. “Dude, what the fuck are you even talking about?” 

You huffed, suddenly shifting onto your opposite side so that you could face Ellie. As you did so, Ellie’s hand cautiously left your back. You blinked rapidly, willing your eyes to adjust quickly in the dark. 

Ellie was still propped on one elbow, a concerned expression etched across her features. Eyebrows drawn together, her gaze locked on your face as soon as you had turned to look at her. Ellie hadn't taken down her hair before going to bed, her half-bun barely even existing anymore as most of her auburn strands had slipped away from the hair tie. She looked soft, basically, in a way that made you want to wrap your arms around her and stay like that forever. 

Instead of meeting her gaze, your eyes drifted downward as if to study the faded band shirt that she was wearing. It was so worn, that tiny holes were starting to form around the neckline. 

“You cheated on me,” you finally said, the words nearly getting caught in your throat. Your heart hammered, your body feeling uncomfortably warm with stress and anxiety due to the situation. 

An immediate scoff left Ellie’s lips. “No, the fuck I did not? Babe–” 

“In my dream,” you clarified pointedly, finally meeting her gaze with your own accusing expression. 

Ellie went silent. She blinked once as she stared at you, her lips slightly parted. “Okay?” 

“What do you mean, okay? You cheat on me, and then don’t even fucking show any remorse?” you shot back instantly. The soft sheets pooled around your waist as you sat up, internally feeling much too heated to remain snuggled within the covers. 

Ellie’s expression twisted, like she didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed. “Babe, though, I didn’t cheat.” 

You found yourself rolling your eyes before you could even think about holding back the action. “You literally did, though.” 

“In your dream.” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay? So no, I did not.” 

You huffed, fingers twitching with the urge to grasp your pillow and smack your girlfriend with it. “What is your literal problem? You can’t even apologize, or be remorseful?” 

“What’s your problem?” Ellie retorted, nose wrinkling. “You like, elbowed the fuck outta me.” 

Expression faltering, your eyebrows knitted together. “Wait, really?” you questioned, your tone softening. “Did it– Are you–” 

Ellie snorted, shifting to lay back down. “Nah. I’m good. Just scared the shit out of me,” she mumbled, getting comfortable once more as her head rested against her pillow. 

You watched her with a frown, reaching out to nudge at her shoulder. “What are you doing?” 

“Sleeping?” 

“Um, no? Ellie. We have to talk about this.” 

Ellie mumbled something under her breath, her fist raising to scratch at her nose. “Talk about what?” 

“The fact that you cheated?” you said like it was obvious, prodding at Ellie’s shoulder through the material of her shirt. 

Shaking her head slightly, Ellie closed her eyes. “I love you?” she attempted, already feeling the tempting lure of sleep washing back over her. 

With a huff, your hand fell away from her shoulder. “I’m not even joking, El. It was so messed up.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“We were like, at some bar. And I went to the bathroom, but when I came back, you were talking to some girl. And she was like, leaning really close. And I couldn’t see the front of her, but her boobs probably looked great and she was like, right there, and–” 

“Babe–” 

“And she was like, touching your tattoo, and you put your fucking arm around her waist? And you looked really hot, like, how you were sitting, but I was literally gonna throw up because you were just letting her in your space like that, and–” 

“Jesus– Babe–” 

“–lowkey nothing else happened I don’t think, but I honestly feel like you were gonna kiss or something, like, it was like you just forgot about me so fast–” 

When your voice broke, Ellie’s head whipped to look at you. 

“Shit, dude, you’re actually upset?” she asked, sitting up once more and tentatively reaching for you. 

Ellie’s hand landed on your knee–a comforting touch–but you still glared at her. “That’s what I’ve literally been saying,” you said, narrowing your eyes at her. 

“Yeah, but I thought… I dunno, thought you were, like… I don’t know.” 

You let Ellie’s hand linger on your knee, and you shifted to sit a little closer. “It was a bad dream,” you admitted, reaching your hand to rest against the bare skin of Ellie’s knee, too. 

“Stupid fuckin’ dream,” Ellie muttered, studying your expression. She was still torn, slightly thrown off from being woken up so abruptly… and the less than serious nature of it all. Still, how many times had you stayed up with Ellie when insomnia had been–quite honestly–beating her ass? How many times had you talked her down from an anxiety attack? Ellie huffed. “Babe, you know I’d never–” 

“I know,” you mumbled softly, your free hand moving to fiddle with some strands of your hair. “I know, I know, I know."

Ellie’s hand moved from your knee to your back, rubbing slow, soothing circles over your shirt. She still felt the urge to comfort–somehow–despite the fact that she had been… a little annoyed that you were annoyed due to a dream, and caught off guard because of your genuine emotions over the whole thing. “Is there… Did I, like, do something? To make you–” 

“No,” you interrupted quickly, though your tone remained gentle–quiet between the two of you. “It was a stupid dream.” Your eyes tracked your thumb as you dragged it over Ellie’s knee. “Like when you had that stupid dream about me leaving you for the girl from Alien.” 

Ellie had opened her mouth to speak–to provide you with automatic reassurances–but your words made her mouth slam shut. Her brows furrowed, a slight hint of embarrassment pressing at her like a prickle on the back of her neck. “Okay, that’s–” 

“Which one was it again?” you continued, shooting Ellie a curious look. She almost wished that you would go back to accusing her of something over a dream rather than revisit this topic. “Ellen Ripley, or Rain Carradine?” 

Ellie exhaled, her hand slowing to a stop against your back. “Like… either,” she mumbled, avoiding your gaze. Stupid. Embarrassing. Not that Ellie cared. 

Your focus, however, had already been entirely shifted to the topic. “Baby, I’d never,” you murmured, shifting to sit on your knees and reaching for Ellie’s face. Ellie rolled her eyes and tilted her chin away. “No badass Alien character could ever replace you. You’re just as cool. Even cooler.” 

“Uh huh,” Ellie remarked dryly, pulling her arms away from you and shifting slightly, just barely escaping your attempts of touch. 

Barely deterred, you grabbed Ellie’s hands. “You could totally fight aliens.” 

“I’d be the alien killing master. Any sort of monster, or whatever, honestly. I’d be a pro. Like, imagine me killing–” 

“Stop. I don’t even want to have to think about you being in some, like… horrible, scary world–” 

Ellie pulled her hands away from your grasp, one of her knees digging into the mattress as she shifted to face you. “I thought you were pissed at me, though?” she muttered dryly, cupping the sides of your face. 

“Less than pissed, now,” you murmured, your gaze flickering back and forth between Ellie’s eyes. 

Ellie’s response to that was a wordless one. She leaned over you, pressing a firm kiss against your lips while simultaneously guiding your form down, your back cushioned by the soft bedding once more. Ellie made herself sturdy, her other leg positioning between your thighs. Not pressing–but there. You melted in delight, fingers moving to gently tangle within her auburn strands. You broke the kiss with a laugh, however, when the hair tie that had been practically holding on for dear life slipped away from Ellie’s hair and into your grasp. 

Lips tugging upward at the sound of your amusement, Ellie pressed a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling away. She flopped onto her back with a tired groan, which earned another laugh from you. 

“You sound so ridiculous, you know that?” you jokingly chided, turning your cheek against your pillow to look at her. Your shared bedding was cozy–mismatched patterns of shades of green and florals that just seemed to work. The sheets were now twisted around your legs. “You make fun of Joel whenever he does the whole grunt and groan thing when sitting around, but you kinda do it, too.” 

Ellie wrinkled her nose, mirroring your action by turning her head to look at you. “Don’t compare me to Joel,” she grumbled. Despite the quiet complaint, she shifted onto her side–so you did the same. 

Practically nose to nose, you studied each other. Your smile lingered, all soft and faint with a tired sort of fondness–nightmare be damned. Ellie’s expression held a trace of concern, though. Her teeth pulled at her bottom lip. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, it’s unfair,” you whispered. 

Ellie nearly snorted. “Says you.” She almost hesitated, her hand seeking out your skin. She rubbed her palm over the expanse of your arm–from your shoulder down to your wrist, back and forth. “Hey. You know I’d never actually… right? I’d never do something that fucking dumb, like–” 

“El, I know,” you replied, lifting your leg slightly to hook it around her. “And Rain Carradine could never be you. The similar hairstyle doesn’t mean anything, truly. I’d choose you any day.” 

“Wow. Thanks, babe. You’re so sweet.”

 Despite Ellie’s dry tone, you caught the curve of her smile before she ducked her head, her lips lazily getting busy against your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, a quiet hum escaping you. Gone were the lingering feelings of unease, the impact of your dream. The images grew hazier as they faded, replaced by the very real feeling of Ellie mouthing at your skin. 

“And,” Ellie pressed on, speaking between each kiss that she planted against your neck. “I could do the whole Alien thing, or whatever. Yeah? Right?” 

You feigned a groan, though the sound came out much too brightly due to your amused, affectionate smile. “Ugh, you’re so annoying–”

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a c h i l l e a n ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎s a p p h i c ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎d e m i b o y ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎d e m i g i r l ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎d e m i g e n ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎a b r o ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎p o l y ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎u n l a b e l e d ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎p o l y a m ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎t m a s c ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳

𓎟𓎟‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎t f e m ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎○˳