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Somebody I Fucked Once

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It’s the second time tonight she’s found herself navigating to that Instagram page. The one she had to search for a whole week to find because she didn’t know her last name. The one that’s all hazel eyes and freckly skin and soft-looking brown hair. Well it is soft, Emily knows this. She’s had her fingers tangled desperately in it before. 

Kelley posted a new photo this week. It’s from the top of a mountain trail somewhere in Virginia. There’s another, taller, ganglier brunette with her in the photos. Alex. Emily’s stalked her Instagram page multiple times this week as well. Kelley’s on there a lot. 

Emily has learned a lot about Kelley since that night. She’s learned that Kelley’s not just the disgruntled bartender at her friends’ favorite bar. She’s a senior on the track team, an avid cook, and a nature enthusiast. 

Emily wonders how she’s been unaware of so much of Kelley’s life even though she’s been frequenting Stoney’s for almost two years now—she’s been aware of Kelley for almost two years now. 

And it’s not like Kelley came out of nowhere. Emily had noticed her before, had admired her shoulders in the tank top she always wore; her hands as they prepared drinks for intoxicated sorority girls—including Emily herself; her neck, left exposed by the high ponytail she always sported, pale and freckled and soft-looking. 

But she had never really examined herself in relation to Kelley. And now, that’s all she did. Every minute of every day spent thinking about Kelley. About her. About Kelley and her. All because of that one night.

All Emily wants to do is find something that will help her forget how good that night was—she knows she'll never have anything as good ever again. Just any small thing that will help take the edge off all the pain that inimitable night is still causing her, even a month later.

Apparently, juggling seven other girls isn’t it.

It’s not like she’s actually dating any of them, in fact, she hasn’t even met most of them, but just texting with them is excruciating.

She can’t blame Lindsey for thinking it would help. Lindsey, the only one of her sorority sisters that knows she likes women. Lindsey, who had suggested trying dating apps to find someone else. Who had said you don’t even have to put your face on there, if you’re worried about people finding out. Just use a few photos of your abs and girls will fall at your feet.

And, well Lindsey wasn’t exactly wrong.

Which is how she ended up talking with seven different girls on this particular Saturday night. 

But there’s only so many What’s your star sign? and What’s your favorite movie? questions a girl can take. She doesn’t feel anything for any of these girls. Who she does feel something for is that stupidly reserved bartender at the bar that all her other sorority sisters are at right now which she had declined the invitation to because she had a hot date with her dating apps. (That’s not what she told them, obviously. Emily made up some lie about needing to study for a big test on Monday.)

But now that she has been asked for the fifth time if she has a favorite Taylor Swift era, she has finally reached her breaking point.

This isn’t working. It’s not a good distraction. It’s just making her crave that thing she got for one night even more.




One month ago


Emily was actually still relatively sober. It had been Makenzy’s birthday, so she had obviously gone all out even though it was a Sunday night, but she figured it would be best if someone stayed sober enough to make sure they got home. Which she did, maybe earlier than they would have liked, but can anyone really blame her? Taking care of six drunk college girls is very difficult. So difficult, in fact, that now she needed to actually get drunk. Or at least have another drink.

Which, lucky for her, was possible, because there was still 15 minutes until closing, and her favorite bar was only about a block away from the sorority house.

“We’re closed,” says a steely voice as soon as she steps into the bar. About half the chairs are already up on the tables. The bartender who’s closing up is one Emily’s seen before, but to be very honest, she’s usually much more drunk when she comes here. She has noticed her before, how could she not notice her? But she’s keenly aware that if she lets herself focus on a pretty girl while she’s drunk, she will more than likely spill her secret. So she just laughed along when her friends commented on how uptight that one short, brunette bartender is.

“That’s funny. The hours on the door say you’re open for another ten minutes.” Emily needs her drink, she really does.

“You’re not drunk.” 

Emily raises her eyebrows, “That’s a very astute observation of you.”

The bartender scoffs. “Yeah, well, you’re usually one of the messiest girls in here.”

Something in those words makes Emily pause. “So you’ve noticed me?”

It’s apparently not at all what the bartender was expecting her to say, and her eyebrows shoot up. “It’s pretty fucking hard to miss you.” She says it like she’s trying really hard to be nonchalant about it. “Now, will you leave so I can finish closing up?”

“No,” Emily says petulantly. “It’s not closing time yet, and I want a drink. And I want to know where all the people are.”

“I kicked them out. The few that were here.”

Emily walks over to the bar and takes a seat on one of the stools. “Are you going to kick me out?” She props her chin up on her hand and blinks up at the bartender on the other side of the counter. Up close, she can see the freckles that dot the girl’s skin and the way her arms flex as she leans up against the counter.

“I was trying to do that, yes.”


“But, what?”

“Well you said ‘was,’ as in past tense. So I’m wondering if right now you’re actually considering giving me a drink.” Emily looks up at her with her best puppy dog eyes. “Please? I tip really well.”

The bartender rolls her eyes. “Fine. But only if I don’t have to make one of those stupid, fruity drinks you and your friends are always ordering.”

“How’s a whiskey sour? Too fruity?” Emily asks teasingly.

“Not bad. Could’ve been better, but…” the bartender pulls out two glasses, the whiskey, and the shaker. She starts to work on making Emily’s drink, her motions efficient but still somehow incredibly graceful and entrancing.

“But…? What would’ve made it better?” Emily watches as the bartender shakes the drink and then pours it into one of the glasses.

“If it were just straight whiskey,” she says as she reaches again for the bottle of alcohol and pours it straight into the second glass. She gently nudges the mixed drink across the bar before saying, “Cheers,” and knocking her own drink back like a shot.

Emily literally can’t do anything except stare at her now very-exposed neck. She feels her mouth go a little dry and swallowing becomes very difficult.

When the brunette slams the glass back down on the counter, Emily has yet to take a sip from hers. “Are you not going to drink what I just made you? I worked really hard on that.” There’s only a slight sarcastic tone to it. 

Emily fixes her eyes directly on the girl’s hazel ones—there are little specks of gold just around her pupil—and picks up the drink. She doesn’t let her focus leave even as she takes a sip, but to be fair neither does the bartender, whose name she now realizes she still doesn’t know. 

She pulls the drink back down from her lips, “Your hard work seems worth it—it’s very good. Thank you…” she trails off in hopes that the girl will supply her name. 

She doesn’t. 

“If you continue to take such tiny-ass sips we’re going to be here all night.” The exasperation in her tone seems a little fake, like she’s only using it to hide something else in her voice—something more like amusement or even affection. “Hurry it up, Emily.”

Completely taken aback, the whiskey sour stops halfway up to her mouth for another sip. “How d’you know my name?”

The bartender, for the first time that night, seems to drop her confident composure for just a moment. But as soon as it’s gone, it’s back again. “Your friends say it all the time.” She waves her hand like it’s no big deal. 

Emily’s face twists into a bit of a challenging smirk. “D’you know any of my friends’ names?”

She’s met with silence accompanied by a death stare from the other side of the counter. “I can’t say I do,” the bartender says tersely. 

“Well I seem to be at a disadvantage, if you know my name but I don’t know yours.”

The brunette doesn’t look amused. “Kelley.”

“Well, Kelley,” she purrs, “can I help you close up? Since my presence is obviously such an imposition for you.”

Kelley doesn’t say anything, just hands her a spray bottle and a rag and points to the counter Emily’s sitting at. She raises her eyebrows, but takes the cleaning supplies and her drink to the far end of the counter and starts spraying it down, taking sips from her drink every so often. Kelley disappears into the back for a minute and when she comes back, her serving apron is gone (and Emily thinks maybe her ponytail’s been redone), leaving her only in her tight-fitting tank top and her ripped-up black mom-jeans. 

Emily tries not to let her eyes linger too obviously long, but she can’t help that her eyes trace the cut of Kelley’s shoulders and then the curve of her breast that tapers into her waist. In this moment, it feels like she’s seeing a totally new version of someone she’s crossed paths with multiple times—a little softer, a little more open—and she’s struck by how much that affects her view of Kelley. In this moment, she seems absolutely perfect. 

Kelley starts flipping the stools up on the counter Emily’s already cleaned, following behind her first at a distance and then much more closely as she continues to put the stools away faster than Emily can clean the rest of the counter. 

“Man, you’re really taking your sweet time, aren’t you?” Suddenly Kelley is right next to her, so close she can feel her breath against her neck. 

Emily has to tilt her chin down just a little bit to focus on Kelley. “If I didn’t, then you would never have caught up to me.”

“Was that a goal of yours, to get closer to me?”

Emily really hopes she’s not reading the situation incorrectly. All of this conversation, and especially this question, have felt like flirting. And Emily knows she doesn’t have a lot of experience with flirting—she’s mainly only good at it because talking with any straight sorority girl in the house bathroom actually ends up a lot like flirting—but she’s pretty sure this is it. That Kelley’s low tone and dark eyes are indicative of wanting something more. And if Kelley wants something more, Emily will gladly give it to her, even if she’s not quite sure what she’s doing. 

“Yes, Kelley.” It’s quiet, and without a touch of sarcasm. Her skin feels like it’s tingling because of how close Kelley is, and she’s sure the brunette can hear how loudly her heart’s thumping in her chest. 

There’s a single beat of silence, and then Kelley’s whispering, “Okay,” in a very resolute tone and then her lips are on Emily’s. 



Emily’s phone buzzes on the bed, snapping her out of her daydream (and she was just about to get to the good part!).



Kenz: you can’t pssbily stil b stufying

Get ur ass ovr hete i’m not havinh any fum wo u


Emily will never understand why Makenzy refuses to turn on her autocorrect when she consistently sends out texts like that if she’s drunk. But Emily also thinks she could stand to be that drunk right now.


Em: where are y’all?

Kenz: stlll at stoneyss!!!
Come meef us emmy!!!


Emily sighs. She was hoping that maybe they had migrated somewhere else. Anywhere else, really. Harley’s would be great, Below Deck would be fine, even the freshman-haven that is The Woods! She would take any of those over Stoney’s right now. 

But currently, Stoney’s seems to be her only option. So she pulls herself out of bed and searches through her closet to find something to wear. Usually she would be fine just throwing on a white t-shirt and some jeans, but she finds herself caught up in trying to pick out the perfect outfit. 

Fine. Okay. She’ll admit it. Maybe she does actually want to go to Stoney’s. And maybe she does actually want to look hot when Kelley might see her. Maybe she wants to try to get Kelley alone again so she can have more incredibly mind-blowing sex! Can anyone blame her? She’s only human!

She ends up in a black, halter crop-top and a pair of high-waisted camo-print pants that Lindsey told her do a lot for her ass when she first bought them. She slips into her old Adidas Superstars, tucks her ID and debit card into her back pocket, and then she’s out the door.



Em: ok I’m on my way

Kenz: yayyyuyy!


Emily barely gets two feet in the door before Makenzy and Morgan descend upon her.

“Omg you’re here!” Shrieks Morgan, just a second before Makenzy yells, ‘You look HOT! Em wants to find herself a man tonight!”

Emily shrinks a little bit. She knows she should expect this, what with not having told any of them about not liking boys, but she still hates it. She hates that she can never just go out and get drunk and have a good time with her friends. It always seems to be about finding a boy.

In fairness, Emily is out tonight almost with the explicit purpose of finding a girl, but she still wishes going out didn’t always have to be about finding someone to hook up with.

“I need a drink, y’all are way ahead of me!” Emily laughs half-heartedly as she starts to walk towards the bar.

Makenzy grabs on to her arm to stop her, though. “Em, omg, the mean bartender is working tonight.” Emily’s heart speeds up exponentially at that. “You can’t go up there by yourself! She almost bit my head off when I asked for a Strawberry White-Trash Can! You need protection!”

Emily laughs internally because of course Kelley would look down on someone who ordered a Strawberry White-Trash Can. They were good, and they fucked you up real quick, but it was probably the drink least like straight liquor that you could order at this bar. “Kenz, I’m good, honestly. You and Morgan go back to the table. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Makenzy reluctantly lets go of her arm and instead reaches for Morgan’s, pulling her back towards the crowd of rowdy, drunk college kids packed into tables on the far side of the bar. “Don’t take too long, Emmy! If you’re not back in 5 minutes I’ll assume she ate you alive!”

Emily pushes through the crowd to the bar, and that’s when she realizes how severely unprepared she is to see Kelley again. She’s taking an order from a frat guy at the other side of the bar, her face pulled into a look of absolute contempt, but Emily thinks the hardness in her eyes and the sharpness of her jaw is the hottest thing she’s ever seen. Her toned arms are again on display in her black tank top, and this time, Emily can see just a strip of skin showing above the waistband of her jeans. She knows she’s had her hands there before, but she wants to put them there again feel the softness of Kelley’s skin against her fingertips again. 

“What can I get ya?” It’s not Kelley’s voice. A male bartender is asking her what she wants. She tries not to be disappointed. 

“Um, yeah, I’ll have a —”

“I’ve got it, Phil.” That’s the voice Emily was looking for. Kelley’s already got a whiskey sour made and is sliding it across the counter to her. Emily has no idea when Kelley made that. “Can I get you anything else?” It’s not her usual indifferent tone. It’s something slightly lower, maybe even a bit suggestive.

Emily does some careful calculations in her head. Kelley remembered her drink order. Kelley practically pushed that male bartender Phil out of the way to talk to her. Kelley used the same tone of voice that Emily remembers in a very different context on that night. Her calculations all seem to point in a positive direction.

She decides to take her chances.

She decides to look Kelley dead in the eyes as she says, “A shot of tequila, please. I have some people I need to catch up with.”

Kelley raises her eyebrows, but then gets to work making the shot. “Do you want salt and lime?”

“What kind of question is that?” Emily asks, amused, “of course I do!”

Kelley takes a moment to work, and then passes the shot across the bar to Emily, locking eyes with her. “I can take them straight.”

Emily hums. “Of course you can. But just taking them straight doesn’t allow you to do this.” Keeping her gaze directly on Kelley, she flattens her tongue against the salt rim and then licks up to get the salt into her mouth. She bites her bottom lip slightly before knocking back the shot in one smooth motion. Then she reaches for the lime and places it in between her teeth before sucking. 

“How was my technique?” Emily asks.

Kelly looks down at the bar, and then back up at Emily. “Stick around until closing time for me?” Kelley lowers her voice so only Emily can hear her, especially with the din of all the other patrons around them.

Emily nods, smirking, before grabbing her whiskey sour and slipping away from the bar to find her friends.




It takes Emily a moment to realize what’s happening after Kelley starts kissing her, but then she registers it and she kisses back desperately as her hands fall to grip at the brunette’s waist. 

Kelley’s mouth is soft but insistent against hers, and her fingers are tangling in the hair at the base of Emily’s neck. Emily’s hands slide under the hem of Kelley’s tank top, reveling in the feeling of soft skin over well-defined muscles as she opens her mouth to Kelley’s tongue. 

It doesn’t take long until Emily has to pull away to breathe, overwhelmed by all the sensations of Kelley, but the brunette immediately redirects to her neck, kissing up her jaw and biting at her earlobe, barely allowing her to catch her breath at all. 

“Are we just going to—,” Emily gasps when Kelley bites down just above her clavicle, and then has to continue to gasp in air as Kelley sucks at the skin in order to finish her thought, “do this in—the middle of—the bar?”

“Do what?” Kelley asks coyly, looking up at the blonde through her lashes, finally disconnecting her lips from Emily’s neck. 

Emily is keenly aware that she will have hickeys tomorrow that she’ll have to explain away to all the girls in her sorority, but right now she doesn’t care. That sounds like a problem for tomorrow Emily. Current Emily has to figure out how to make words come out of her mouth when Kelley’s looking at her like that—and preferably somewhat sexy words. 

“Um… this, Kelley.” She spreads out her fingers that are still resting against the bare skin of Kelley’s back. “Whatever we’re doing, um if we’re doing anything, I don’t want to assu—“

Kelley cuts her off with a kiss. “Yeah I suppose we can move this to the liquor closet.” Then Kelley grabs her by the arm and drags her out from the middle of the room, pulling her through a door behind the bar. 

It’s actually a decent-sized room, not really a closet, with a table and a couple chairs set out along the one wall not covered by stacks of boxes filled with alcohol. Emily doesn’t get to take in much of anything else though before Kelley’s backing her up against the door, tugging at the hem of her shirt and breathing out, “I. Want. This. Off,” between kisses.

Emily pulls back just the tiniest bit so she can look the shorter girl into her eyes, “Well then, take it off, Kelley.” It’s said barely above a whisper, but with enough conviction that Kelley nods and yanks Emily’s shirt over her head.

As a student athlete, Emily is aware that she’s in shape. But she can’t help the smirk that spreads across her face when she notices that Kelley is no longer moving and is instead staring at her abs. The brunette reaches out a curious hand to run her fingertips over Emily’s stomach. It gives her a surge of confidence, knowing she can get Kelley to look at her like that.

She also can’t help but recognize that in this very moment, she has the upper hand. She doesn’t overthink what she’s going to do next, just lets the new-found confidence and the heat of the moment drive her actions.

Her hands find Kelley’s waist again and her thumbs dig into her hip bones, pushing her backwards until the shorter woman’s thighs hit the edge of the table and her hand grips at the back of Emily’s neck to stop from falling with their momentum. 

Emily kisses her slower this time—dirtier, sucking Kelley’s tongue into her mouth and biting at her bottom lip until she draws a whimper out of the brunette’s mouth. “Your turn,” she says, as she grabs at the hem of Kelley’s tank top, pulling it up and over her head as soon as she disconnects herself from Emily’s lips long enough to do so. 

And, well, Kelley’s gorgeous. Emily’s already been staring at her arms, but now there’s so much more to stare at, including a black, lacy bra that Emily completely doesn’t expect. “You were just wearing this through your whole shift tonight?” She’s staring rather shamelessly at Kelley’s boobs. 

Kelley smirks. “Well, yeah. It makes my boobs look good.”

Emily nods in concession. “That it does.”

The brunette’s fingertips find her chin and lift it up so they’re making eye contact. “Plus, sometimes, there’s this really hot blonde girl who comes into my bar, and I always want to be ready to see her.” It’s the first bit of vulnerability they’ve shared tonight—the first hint at something real. Something more than just a spur-of-the-moment hook up. It sends a thrill through Emily’s body. 

She leans forward and kisses Kelley once, much softer than before, and then she directs her mouth down the shorter girl’s throat and to the curve of her breast. She plans to take her time here, biting and sucking at the freckled skin on Kelley’s chest, framed by black lace. 

It’s a plan that’s derailed when Kelley runs her hand up Emily’s spine and unhooks her bra with one hand. The straps go slack on her shoulders, and Emily glances up at Kelley before she stands up straight and lets the bra fall to the ground. 

Kelley hums appreciatively, skating her hands across Emily’s ribs and up to the newly uncovered skin. “Fuck. I—” Kelley lets out a flustered puff of air, “—you are stupidly hot.” There’s a mix of reverence and disbelief in her voice that Emily can’t help but let out a faint laugh at, taking a quick glance down at her own body as though she’s curious what the fuss is about. 

But Kelley uses that moment, with Emily no longer looking at her, to regain the control she likes to have in these situations. Hooking her fingers through the loops on Emily’s jeans, she pushes herself off from the table and uses the momentum to flip their positions, pressing the blonde against the edge of the table. She chases Emily’s lips greedily, already feeling deprived from not having them properly for the last few minutes.

Emily’s hands find the back of Kelley’s neck, pulling her deeper into the kiss, feeling every single sensation that Kelley’s lips are bringing her deep into her bones. This isn’t the first time Emily’s kissed a girl, but being relatively closeted has severely limited her options over the years. This is, however, the first time she’s enjoyed kissing a girl this much, enough to want to be absolutely wrecked by her—physically, emotionally, spiritually, whatever Kelley wants to give her, that’s what she wants.

She can feel how turned on she is when Kelley slips her knee between Emily’s legs, guiding the blonde’s hips so she can grind down against her thigh. She sighs with pleasure as Kelley starts to kiss down her neck again, finding the mark just above her collarbone that she had already started to work into Emily’s skin earlier. It’s sensitive, and Emily has to bite down hard on her bottom lip to stop herself from making an embarrassingly loud noise. She grinds down again, trying to relieve some of the tension, letting herself work up a bit of a rhythm against Kelley’s thigh as the brunette’s mouth continues down her neck and finds one of her nipples. 

One of Emily’s hands comes up to clutch at the back of Kelley’s head, and she desperately wishes the brunette’s hair wasn’t in this stupidly perfect high ponytail so she could tangle her fingers in it. She tries to pull at the elastic, but she can’t quite get the right grip on it and she’s having a lot of trouble focusing anyways so she just breathes out a strangled “Kell—” to get the other girl's attention.

“Hmm?” Kelley stands up straight so she can look at the blonde, disconnecting her mouth from Emily’s chest and letting her knee straighten out, which causes Emily to whine a little at the loss of pressure.

“Can you, um, can you take your hair out of the ponytail?” The confidence that had overtaken her just moments ago has all but disappeared, and her voice comes out a little sheepish. “I— um, I want to put my fingers in it.” There are probably a few sexier ways that she could’ve asked that, and she cringes internally at how weird Kelley must think she is right now. 

But instead, Kelley smiles a little teasingly at her and then reaches back and pulls the elastic band down and out of her hair. “Is that all you wanted?”

Emily just nods, even though she can think of a few more things that she wants, but she’s scared if she opens her mouth again more stupid shit will come out and she won’t be able to recover from that.

“Can I get back to what I was doing then?” Kelley smirks, and Emily nods dumbly again. Kelley’s hands fall to the button on Emily’s jeans, “Can I take these off?” her hazel eyes have gone dark now, and all Emily can do is nod once more. “Are you just going to keep nodding at me all night, Em?” 

Something about the nickname catches her off guard, softens something in her that makes her feel an incredible fondness for Kelley. “No, I’ll—um—I’ll let you know what I like,” she mutters.

“Okay,” Kelley says, kissing her again, thumbing at the clasp on Emily’s jeans and pulling the zipper down. Emily tries to help by shimmying the jeans down and stepping out of them rather ungracefully, and Kelley chuckles a little as she steadies the blonde by the hips.  

“Didn’t really peg you as one who would wear thongs,” Kelley teases playfully, stroking her thumb along the edge of blue lace, the only thing Emily’s left wearing now.

“Um, well I—I don’t, usually, just sometimes like, like when I’m going out or—” she’s rambling again.

“Shut up, it’s hot.” Kelley’s looking up at her through her lashes, “But I will have to take them off, right about now. They’re kinda in the way.”

Emily watches dazedly as Kelley sinks down on to her knees to work the underwear down her legs, then kisses her way up Emily’s inner-thigh and settles herself between Emily’s legs.




Emily’s friends all leave Stoney’s around 1:30am, and she has a hard time coming up with an excuse to stay, but she manages some cobbled together explanation about coming out later so she wants to stay longer and then waves her friends goodbye before making her way back to the bar. She finds a seat on the far end and orders a vodka Sprite from Phil, then fixes her eyes on Kelley. 

She watches as Kelley makes drinks, talks to customers, hands out receipts for signatures. Emily’s drawn to the ease in her movements, and how it juxtaposes the hardness in her features. Emily’s drawn to the confidence in her stance, the swagger in her movements—she’s pretty blatantly staring, but she doesn’t really care because when Kelley catches her eye, her features soften and a slight smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. 

Emily wishes she knew what was going on in Kelley’s mind. Were they just having sex? Or did Kelley feel it too—they way that their senses of humor complimented each other, Kelley’s dry and dark, Emily’s sarcastic and playful; the way it felt like their energies aligned when they kissed, how Kelley was all push and Emily was all pull; the way that it felt like electricity when they touched. This wasn’t just good sex , this was chemistry. 

And Emily will admit, it would sound like a bunch of horseshit if she said it out loud. Like she was trying to make something out of nothing. Maybe Kelley doesn’t feel it, maybe she just thought Emily was cute and wanted to have her for one night—but now she’s getting two nights and it feels too good to be true. It feels like maybe Kelley wants this too, wants to try for something more than just sex, wants Emily the same way she wants Kelley. 

The same way she’s been thinking about Kelley as she’s scrolled through her Instagram page, imagining herself next to the shorter woman in all the pictures, obsessing over how they would look standing at the top of a mountain together, pretending that she and Kelley were more than just acquaintances from a bar that fucked once. 

It’s probably not healthy, but she can’t help herself. Especially now, as she stares intently at Kelley’s neck, still able to feel it under her lips—and what she would give to have seen the marks on it three weeks ago. She wonders if Kelley tried to hide it at all, stopped wearing that damn tank top so no one could see the evidence of their time together, or if she let everyone see, let everyone know that someone—that Emily— had gotten to have Kelley, even if just for that one night. 

But now, here Kelley is again, standing right in front of her, telling her she’ll be quick closing up, asking for a second night. 

It’s after 2:30am when they finally leave, Kelley tugging at her hand to pull Emily out the back door, where her electric bike is waiting—and really, Emily should’ve guessed that Kelley’s one of those people who rides around campus basically on a motorcycle. 

“You take the helmet,” Kelley nods towards the handlebars where it’s clipped, and Emily unhooks it and tentatively places it on her head. Kelley takes over from there, adjusting the straps and fastening it around her chin, keeping her fingers there to pull her in until they’re kissing for the first time that night. It’s softer than their last first-kiss, and Emily’s hands fall lightly to Kelley’s waist to anchor herself to something tangible, to keep herself from floating away with the exhilaration of kissing Kelley again.

“I’ve missed you,” Kelley exhales when they separate, and Emily doesn’t know what to say to that, so she just lets Kelley keep talking. “Why haven’t you come to see me?” It’s quieter, almost a little disheartened, and Emily’s heart stutters at the thought that maybe Kelley’s been wanting this as much as she has. 

“Honestly?” Emily says gently, and Kelley nods, “because I didn’t want to face the thought of you not wanting me again. If I never came back, you could never reject me.”

Kelley huffs out a laugh, “Em, I’d be fucking stupid to not want you again. Speaking of which,” Kelley raises her eyebrows teasingly, “can I please take you home, now?”

Kelley’s house is on the other side of campus, far away from the sorority houses, which Emily is very glad for because it greatly decreases the chance that she’ll see anyone she knows, as she rides down the little residential streets holding tightly to Kelley’s waist. They pull up to a little yellow house with a white porch and a brick-red door, where Kelley parks her bike in the driveway. 

The house is dark when they get inside, and Kelley mumbles something about how her roommates must be elsewhere as she flips on the kitchen light. It’s a little bit awkward because neither of them seem to know how to initiate this now that it’s out of context of a bar. It feels more personal now, like this time it actually means something. 

“Water?” Kelley says, walking over to the fridge, “or beer? Or, um, like Gatorade?”

Emily leans up against the kitchen counter. “Water’s fine.” She watches as Kelley pulls cups out of cabinets, fills them with ice, then pushes the rims against the fridge’s water dispenser. Kelley comes over holding out the cup for her to take, but instead she takes Kelley’s waist. 

“Kel, put the cups down.” There’s a commanding tone to her voice that makes Kelley’s eyes go a little wide as she shuffles in close enough that she can reach past Emily’s torso and place the cups on the counter she’s leaning on. 

Not even a second later, Emily’s kissing the brunette like she’s been wanting to for a month now, hungrily licking into her mouth, and Kelley’s meeting her with the same desire, wrapping her freckly arms around Emily’s neck and pulling her in like she could never be close enough. 

“Mmm—bed,” Kelley mumbles out between kisses. 

“Lead the way,” Emily says as she pulls away, taking Kelley’s hand and letting the shorter girl drag her down the hallway and into a very cozy bedroom, lit with fairy lights along the ceiling and faintly smelling like a woodsy candle had been burning. 

“I didn’t really think this would be your vibe,” Emily says as she takes the bedroom in.


“I don’t know, didn’t think you would have a tapestry on the wall and a really comfy looking bean bag chair and like cutesy lights and shit,” Emily rambles. 

“What did you expect, then?”

“Like, ugh, a lot more black, and like maybe some bloody knives lying around from all the bar patrons you’ve killed.”

Kelley laughs, “Oh, is that what you think of me?” She wraps her arms around Emily’s neck again and starts steering her towards the bed.

“Mmm, not anymore,” she says as her knees bump the edge of the bed and she lowers herself down to sitting.

“Well…” Kelley’s eyes are dark as she sets one of her knees beside Emily’s thigh, “what do you think of me now?”

Emily watches in awe as Kelley settles herself into her lap, running her fingers messily through Emily’s hair. “I think you’re perfect.”

Kelley sucks in a little gasp at those words and her fingers stall in Emily’s hair for a second before she’s leaning in to kiss the blonde again. “Have I told you how fucking hot you look tonight?”

Emily smirks as she shakes her head.

“This top,” Kelley muses as she runs her fingers down the straps, “has made me think about marking up your neck all evening while you sat at my bar sipping your stupid vodka soda.”

Kelley leans in to kiss her neck just once and Emily hums, wanting more.

“And these fucking pants,” Kelley’s fingers find their way down her sides and hook into the belt loops, “have made me think about getting my hands on your ass for, like, four fucking hours, and I’m impatient, I’m wet, and I want you so fucking badly.” Her voice is almost petulant as she finishes. 

“Fuck, Kel, I—” Emily feels the white-hot desire flood through her body as Kelley rocks down into her lap, “God, I can’t wait to taste you again.”




Emily can’t really feel her legs when Kelley emerges from between them a while later, and her left arm hurts from gripping the table edge so hard. She sighs as Kelley removes her fingers from inside Emily and then guides the blonde’s leg back to the ground from where it’s thrown over Kelley’s shoulder. 

She uses the hand that’s tangled messily in brunette hair to pull Kelley up to her by the chin, and Kelley giggles as she stumbles to her feet before Emily crashes their lips together. She groans when she tastes herself on Kelley’s tongue and wraps her arms around Kelley’s neck in an attempt to get her even closer—kiss her even deeper. It feels like she can never have enough of Kelley. 

Once she can actually move her legs again, Emily pushes lightly at Kelley’s shoulders to get her to take a step back and she lets her eyes sweep over the woman in front of her.

“You still have quite a lot of clothes on, Kell.”

Kelley raises her eyebrows teasingly. “Well I’m sure you can come up with a way to fix that.”

Emily’s hands skim over the neckline of Kelley’s bra and then find their way around Kelley’s ribcage so she can unhook the clasp. Kelley shimmies her shoulders a little bit to get the straps off and then tosses the bra over her shoulder playfully. “Don’t need that anymore,” she giggles.

Emily is a little awestruck by all the freckly skin that’s now on display, and she chases a smattering of freckles across Kelley’s chest with her fingertips, and then with her mouth. “So pretty,” she mumbles against her skin, and Kelley hums contentedly in acknowledgement, then taps at Emily’s chin to bring her mouth back up for a kiss. Emily goes willingly, but after just a moment of kissing, she breaks it off laughing a bit nervously, “Didn’t like what I was doing before?”

Kelley smiles against her mouth, “No, I just missed you up here.”

“Ah, I see,” Emily muses, pulling Kelley in once more. She draws one of her hands up from the brunette’s waist, lightly skimming it across her stomach, and pinching a nipple between her fingers. Kelley shivers under her touch and sighs into Emily’s mouth. It’s quite something, for Emily to be able to draw this kind of reaction out of Kelley, one of the most stunning women she’s ever laid eyes on and certainly the most stunning woman she’s ever slept with. That makes her feel bold enough to move Kelley backwards, until her back hits the door, and Emily can press her body fully against Kelley’s. She revels in the feeling of skin on skin, wanting more of it as her hands tug at the belt on Kelley’s jeans.

“Can I?” she whispers, and Kelley nods before Emily’s tugging at the buckle to get it open. She kind of accidentally pushes down Kelley’s underwear with the jeans as well, but passes it off as purposeful when Kelley chuckles, “Oh you’re not wasting any time, are you?” And Emily doesn’t try to contradict her. She is eager to get her hands on the beautiful woman in front of her, even if she didn’t actually mean to get her fully naked at this very moment. 

Emily takes a moment to just look at her, at all the toned muscle and smooth skin and cropped pubic hair that’s now on display, and if a strangled “wow” slips out, well, it’s really not her fault. How could anyone not be floored by Kelley?

She reaches again for the brunette’s hips—it feels like her hands fit there so perfectly—digging her thumbs in to pin Kelley back against the door, and she sighs out helplessly against Emily’s lips. But instead of kissing her, Emily redirects to her neck, biting at her ear and sucking at the delicate skin by her shoulder. 

“Em…” Kelley sighs out, and Emily hums back as if to question what she needs. “Can you, um, do something about, mmm, how turned on I am?”

“Oh, this isn’t helping?” Emily asks teasingly, lightly dragging her fingernails up Kelley’s sides. 

“No,” Kelley’s voice is fucked up, “kinda just making it worse.”

“Ah,” is all Emily says, but she does want to give Kelley what she wants, so she lets her hands drift lower, skimming over Kelley’s ass to get to her outer thighs, then dragging her fingers back up her inner thigh. She only hesitates for a second as she pushes through her nerves before touching Kelley properly, slipping her fingers through the wetness there. 

In many ways, it’s hard for Emily to believe that she was able to make Kelley this wet—that kissing her and touching her and getting her off had done this to Kelley. And yet, the evidence is right beneath her fingertips, and Kelley’s in front of her asking for more in that incredibly sexy rasp, and Emily is quickly learning that she can’t deny Kelley of anything. 

She kisses Kelley hard as she presses one finger in, then a second one, and Kelley makes an appreciative noise against her lips, grinding down into Emily’s hand. 

She lets Kelley have control of her own pleasure for a minute, lets her ride Emily’s fingers until her kisses turn hazy and unfocused, then she slips them out, and Kelley whines at the loss. Emily brings her fingers up to her mouth and licks up them, letting Kelley’s taste settle on her tongue. 

“You taste so good, Kel.”

Emily’s honestly not sure where any of this is coming from. She has such little experience with women, with being sexual with women, but something about this moment, this time with Kelley, just feels right. Like she knows what she’s doing even though she has no idea what she’s doing. 

But it seems to be working out for her, because Kelley whimpers at her words and grinds her hips down into nothing, desperately needing some sort of friction. “Em—please.” It’s barely above a whisper. 

Once she presses her fingers back inside Kelley—curling them up at her own pace this time, flattening her palm against Kelley’s clit, directing her mouth down to Kelley’s nipples—it only takes a minute or so until she’s coming around Emily’s fingers, clinging to Emily’s shoulders for stability, moaning in pleasure. 

It’s the most incredible thing Emily’s ever seen—ever experienced. The kind of thing that you don’t forget, that you spend weeks, months, years dwelling on. 

She kisses Kelley sweetly as she comes down, trying to savor what she’s pretty sure will be the last she’ll ever get to have of this woman. 




“I thought about you all the time after that night.” It’s a confession spoken softly into Emily’s hair, as they’re lying together on Kelley’s bed in the early hours of the morning. “Still do—think about you.”

Emily rolls over to face Kelley, wraps her arm around the brunette’s waist and pulls her flush against Emily’s own body, tangling their bare legs together under the messy sheets. “I don’t think I’ve thought about anything other than you for the last month. You and that stupidly beautiful tall girl who’s always on your Instagram. I think I might hate her.”

“Who? Alex?” Kelley chuckles. 

“Yeah. She gets to spend so much time with you. And, like, gets to look at you all the time.”

Kelley’s eyes sparkle as she leans forward and pecks Emily’s mouth, “There are many things that can be arranged so you can look at me more often. If that’s what you desire,” Kelley teases. 

Emily reaches one hand up to push a piece of hair out of Kelley’s face, and thinks in that moment, as she looks into those hazel eyes, that this could be someone she falls head-over-heels in love with. 

She also thinks she wants that more than anything. 

“Yes. I would love for that to be arranged.”