Work Text:
Lan Zhan loves the library. She loves the quiet. She loves the smell of old books. She loves the sound of pages turning or computer keys clicking. She’s loved the library since she can remember, since her mother brought her to reading groups as a child where she would sit right at the front and listen attentively to the story, ignoring the pushing and bickering of the children behind her. She’s loved it since her mother passed away and it became a safe place, a place of refuge, a place to get lost in a book or an assignment, a place to get away from the noise. She volunteered to work in the library during her free periods in high school so it’s no surprise that she gets a paid, part time position there during university, a position that she’s continued as she writes her PhD thesis. Her uncle thinks it’s a waste of time but she loves it.
She loves bathing in the soothing atmosphere of the library whilst earning extra money. She loves that she is left alone to her own devises to sit behind the tall reception desk and sign used books back in, to arrange room bookings for various community activities, to write book reviews to go on the shelves. That’s one of her favourite things about the library. Ever since her manager realised how creative Lan Zhan was, she asked her to write reviews for their book of the month. Lan Zhan loves it because she gets to read a wide range of different genres and authors and explain in one thousand words why someone else should read it too.
She’s typing away on her computer behind the reception desk when she sees movement out the corner of her eye. She purposely finishes her sentence before looking up. In front of her is a girl around the same age as her with a bright smile and dark hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She’s leaning on her forearms, laid flat on the high reception desk, basically leaning over Lan Zhan. Her gaze flits over Lan Zhan, landing on her name tag and then coming back to her face.
“Can I help you?” Lan Zhan asks. She also loves that librarians are famous for being strict, stiff and stern, shushing whoever makes a noise louder than a peep. It means that no one expects her to force a smile onto her face. Her customer service is swift and effective. She doesn’t need to smile.
The girl smiles wider under Lan Zhan’s attention. “Hi, Miss,” her gaze flicks down to Lan Zhan’s name tag again, “Lan. I was wondering if you can help me find a particular book?”
Lan Zhan wants to roll her eyes and say, I’m a librarian, what do you think I do? But she swallows it and nods politely instead. “Of course. What is the title and author?”
The girl takes her rucksack off one shoulder, brings her bag around to the front and digs through it until she finds something. There isn’t a queue of people waiting but Lan Zhan wonders why the girl didn’t prepare in advance. Lan Zhan is always ready when interacting with others: her purse out ready to pay when she reaches the front of the grocery line, her e-tickets up on her phone for when they need to be scanned for access to the latest exhibit at a museum or art gallery, and the little slip of paper the girl slides across the desk already in her hand before she had even approached her.
Lan Zhan takes the paper, reads in messy handwriting, The Price of Salt, Patricia Highsmith.
Lan Zhan knows they have this book. She knows because she read it when she was thirteen, not knowing what it was truly about, and came out of the other side knowing that how Carol and Therese felt about one another was how she felt about women. She knows because that book, and many LGBT+ books after it, helped her come out.
She doesn’t want this pretty girl to know this though so she turns to her computer, minimises the book review she had been writing and types the author’s name into their online catalogue. It takes a moment to load. The software is old and the library can’t afford to upgrade it any time soon, not with the government pulling money from them wherever they can. Lan Zhan dares not look up at the girl as she waits, dares not let her know in her red ears and telling eyes that she knows that this girl is asking for a book about lesbians.
The load completes, the books profile pops up on screen and Lan Zhan scans the page for the information on where the book is. She clears her throat. “We have a section for LGBT+ media. Second floor. It’ll be on shelf G, arranged alphabetically by author’s surname.”
She risks looking up at girl whose smile has not faded. She looks at Lan Zhan like she’s the funniest thing in the world but Lan Zhan doesn’t feel like she’s being laughed at. Instead she feels like this girl knows a secret about her that no one else does, a surprise perhaps, and it’s beautiful and lovely, and she just knows Lan Zhan will love it.
Lan Zhan slides the paper back over to her and when she takes it, their fingers brush. “Thank you,” the girl says. She takes a step away from the desk as if to go and find the book before she stops and swings back around to face Lan Zhan. “I’m Wei Ying, by the way. I feel like because I know your name, you should know mine.” She nods down at Lan Zhan’s name tag. “See you later.”
She smiles wide and saunters off, her ponytail bobbing behind her.
-
Lan Zhan has hit three hundred words on her review before Wei Ying comes back. She looks more sheepish this time as she leans over the desk.
“I couldn’t find it,” she says in response to Lan Zhan’s questioning gaze.
Lan Zhan wants to say something like, do you not know the alphabet? or was it the second floor that threw you off, can you not count to two?because really, how hard is it? But she is nothing if not a professional so she checks it on the system again, just to be sure.
“It should be there,” she says. “Second floor, LGBT+ section, shelf G.”
“It’s very progressive of you to have an LGBT+ section,” Wei Ying says instead.
“Not really. There’s a lot more that could be done.” Lan Zhan doesn’t understand why this girl is trying to talk to her. She has a review to write.
“Still,” Wei Ying says, “I bet you got backlash.”
Lan Zhan nods. “Some.”
Wei Ying grins at the dismissiveness in her voice. “It’s cool that you don’t care about it.”
“I have more important things to care about than homophobes being angry about us showcasing LGBT+ books,” Lan Zhan says and then for some stupid stupid reason she adds, “Like this review, for example.”
Wei Ying perks up. “Review?”
Fuck. Lan Zhan has really put her foot in it. This pretty, charming girl isn’t going to leave her alone now. “I write reviews for our book of the month.”
“Oh, that’s so cool! I’ve seen those reviews around but, not gonna lie, I haven’t read any of them. If I had known they were yours I totally would have! How’s it going?”
Slow. So very slow because a pretty girl won’t leave me alone.
“Fine,” Lan Zhan says.
“What’s it about?”
“It’s a mythology book focusing solely on the women of myths and legends as they are so often ignored in other mythology books.”
Wei Ying grins. “Sounds crazy interesting! A book all about women, hell yeah! I’ll have to check it out. Maybe I’ll wait and read your review and see if it convinces me.”
Wei Ying winks at her and Lan Zhan fucking blushes and immediately hates herself for it. She looks away.
“Anyway,” Wei Ying says cheerily. “I should probably go try and find this book. Wish me luck!”
-
Lan Zhan has barely written another ten words between Wei Ying leaving and Wei Ying coming back. She’s been so distracted by Wei Ying’s smile and her pretty eyes and the way her fingers had curled over the edge of the desk, black nail polish bitten and chipped. She can still smell her perfume and feel the heat in her cheeks because of that stupid stupid wink.
She’s almost grateful when Wei Ying comes back, leans against the desk and makes her eyes as big as possible.
“Lan Zhan,” she says, using her name like she’s known her for years, rather than just reading it off her name tag.
Lan Zhan hates it when people use her name like they know her, like just because they have access to it that it’s theirs to use. It makes her want to crawl out of her skin most of the time but Wei Ying saying her name feels safe, like home.
“I can’t reach the book. It’s too high up. Do you have some steps I could use?” She pauses. “Or maybe you could help?” Her voice is all pout, all whine and Lan Zhan would usually cringe at the sound but with Wei Ying, something is different. She wants to roll her eyes at her, to say stop that, talk normally, and then she wants to do everything she asks of her.
“I need to cover the desk until my colleague arrives for their shift in fifteen minutes,” Lan Zhan says. “Then I could help. If you do not want to wait that long, I am sure there are other patrons who would be willing to help you.”
Wei Ying nearly trips over her words rushing to answer. “No, no! I’ll wait for you. I’ll just wait right here.” She leans against the desk.
“You could take a seat over there,” Lan Zhan suggests, gesturing to the expanse of tables and chairs across the library floor.
“No, it’s okay. I’d rather chat with you.”
Lan Zhan looks down at her word document, the cursor blinking back at her in the rhythm of her thumping heart, and knows she’s not going to write another word today. Wei Ying’s smiling wide and pretty again and Lan Zhan can’t find it within herself to push her away. Instead she gestures to an empty desk chair. “You could sit here if you would like.”
Wei Ying beams and practically runs around behind the desk to plop herself in the desk chair next to Lan Zhan. She spins around a few times giggling to herself before stopping and wiggling to get comfortable.
“I love these spinny chairs,” she says. “I really want one but I live with my brother and he’s like so weird about it making indents on the carpet, as if the chair I currently use doesn’t make indents. But it’s totally okay cos I can’t really afford one anyway. I’m doing my thesis and working like two jobs at the moment, I don’t have the spare cash for a fancy spinny chair. Do you work here full time? I don’t think so, right, cos I’ve only seen you around a few times.”
Lan Zhan had to look away from Wei Ying as she spoke in case she just stared at her. Looking at Wei Ying was like looking at the sun, so beautiful it burns your eyes. She looks back at the question, with an eyebrow raised. “You noticed that?”
Wei Ying immediately flushes and becomes wriggly as she tries to cover her tracks. “Not like on purpose on purpose but just… accidentally? I don’t know. You’re very pretty, Lan Zhan, of course I noticed you.”
“Thank you,” Lan Zhan says. She’s usually so comfortable in receiving compliments, knowing that she is often considered very beautiful in a cold, distant way, but Wei Ying’s words make her skin light up in goosebumps. She quickly pulls the conversation back to a safer topic. “I work part time. I am also doing my thesis.”
Wei Ying lights up, asks Lan Zhan one million questions about her thesis and how she’s finding it, talking a hundred miles a minute that they don’t realise that fifteen minutes have passed until Lan Zhan’s colleague is walking behind the desk.
They exchange pleasantries, Lan Zhan saves her review and logs off and then turns to Wei Ying. “I have to stack some shelves but I can help you with reaching that book now.”
Wei Ying basically leaps out of her seat and leads the way to the second floor, chatting the whole time and although they’re in a library, Lan Zhan doesn’t have the heart to tell her to be quiet.
-
“Ah, you’re so tall,” Wei Ying mutters as Lan Zhan reaches her book by stepping up onto her tip toes and reaching her hands over her head. Lan Zhan lowers back down to the ground and turns to see Wei Ying leaning against the bookcase, watching her.
“All of my family are tall,” Lan Zhan says by way of explanation. “You’re not small yourself.”
Wei Ying is definitely a head smaller than Lan Zhan (perfect for forehead kisses, her brain helpfully supplies) but that’s still a decent height.
“No,” Wei Ying moans. “Sometimes I wish I was like super dinky and small. Like five foot level of small and then I could like curl up under people’s arms. I find that’s kinda hard to do. I’ve always been tall and gangly.”
“You can curl up under my arm,” Lan Zhan says and then immediately regrets it. She can feel her cheeks burning and when she looks over at Wei Ying, she sees that she’s not the only one.
“Ah, Lan Zhan. You’re a charmer, aren’t you!” Wei Ying starts. “Such a pretty, charming girl. I bet you get all the boys coming into the library just to see you. I have to say though you’re not a typical librarian. You’re… fashionable. You look really nice, Lan Zhan, like really nice.”
Lan Zhan looks down at herself as if she doesn’t remember what she put on this morning. It’s a matching blue and white checked suit jacket and fitted trousers with a plain white t-shirt underneath. She dressed it up with white kitten heels and sparkly earrings. She often found herself struggling between not fitting the old and frumpy stereotype but not going too far the other way and being overly sexualised. She finds she can’t wear skirts at work for that reason. Also because she doesn’t like them. Lan Zhan likes being feminine but in her own way, and that way is fitted trousers and pretty blouses.
“You look like one of those super rich business women,” Wei Ying continues. “Kinda cutthroat but in a sexy way. And your hair,” she takes a step forward to run her fingers through Lan Zhan’s waist length dark hair, “your hair is soooo nice! It’s so shiny and smooth. What products do you use? Mine is always tangled even if I’ve just brushed it. I think I need a better shampoo but they’re so expensive! Especially for something that I use like every other day. Oh! Maybe that’s it? Am I washing it too often? Not often enough?”
“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan says, touching her hand to Wei Ying’s wrist where she’s carding her fingers through Lan Zhan’s hair. Wei Ying freezes, eyes wide, caught. “Thank you. You are very beautiful yourself. Your hair is nice as well. I am lucky that my hair is thick but fine, yours is quite coarse meaning you might need different products. I can recommend some.”
Wei Ying unfreezes, a smile breaking out across her face. “Ah, thank you! Jiejie, you’re the best!”
Lan Zhan ignores the honorific and how it makes her cheeks fill with blood, and holds out the book. “Your book.”
Wei Ying takes it but neither of them move, stood there in between the shelves. “Have you ever read it?”
“Yes,” Lan Zhan says, something her words, something exposing.
“So have I,” Wei Ying confesses. “This will be my third time.” There’s a pause, something heavy and telling in the air, something unspoken. “It’s about lesbians,” Wei Ying announces.
Lan Zhan can’t help but laugh, a small little huff and a fond shake of her head. “Yes, Wei Ying, it’s about lesbians.” Lan Zhan turns to Wei Ying, starts to corner her against the shelves. “And I, as a lesbian, enjoyed reading it greatly.”
Wei Ying’s back hits the shelves, the book wrapped in her arms against her chest the only thing keeping Lan Zhan from pressing her into the wood. Lan Zhan leans down over her, so glad for her height because Wei Ying looks tiny like this.
“How about you?” Lan Zhan asks, whispers. “How come you enjoy reading it?”
Wei Ying kisses her. She reaches up, wraps a hand around the back of Lan Zhan’s head and pulls her in and against her lips. She gasps into the kiss, opens her mouth and licks her way into Lan Zhan’s mouth. Lan Zhan groans. She takes the book out of Wei Ying’s hand and throws it on the floor with a thump. She steps into the space and presses Wei Ying against the shelves with her body. Wei Ying welcomes it, holds Lan Zhan’s shoulders and pulls her into her, let’s her lick across her tongue and over the backs of her teeth. Wei Ying keeps letting out these little gasping moans, wriggling where she’s trapped between Lan Zhan and the shelves, hands moving from Lan Zhan’s shoulders to threading through her hair to cupping her jaw. She moves her hands to Lan Zhan’s boobs, squeezes them through the material of her t-shirt.
Lan Zhan pulls away. “Not here,” she rasps. She takes a step back and grabs Wei Ying’s wrist to pull her off somewhere but she notices the book on the floor. She picks it up and puts it on the shelf, making Wei Ying laugh loud and pretty.
“Even a librarian at a time like this.”
“I couldn’t leave it on the floor,” Lan Zhan says, the disgust in her voice at the idea that anyone would willing leave a book on the floor both humouring Wei Ying and making her skin fizz with desire.
Lan Zhan takes Wei Ying’s hand and tugs her away, through shelves and down stairs and to a door at the back of the library reading ‘Staff Only’. Wei Ying makes a little sound, saying something silly like, “Off to have your way with me,” but Lan Zhan ignores her, swiping the door open with her pass key and leading them inside.
She pushes Wei Ying up against the inside of the door before it’s even closed, making it thump into place against the frame, and kisses her hard and wet. Wei Ying protests into the kiss, wanting to wander around and look at the break room she’s been led into but Lan Zhan ignores her and sucks on her tongue until Wei Ying forgets about her surroundings, forgets everything but the way Lan Zhan’s hands are curled in the hair at the back of her head or how her body feels pressed up against Wei Ying’s. Her boobs are soft where they press against Wei Ying’s, definitely bigger than hers and in a nice smooth bra, probably something sensible and boring, a satin t-shirt bra perhaps, unlike Wei Ying’s ratty old thing where the underwire digs into her sternum.
Wei Ying cups Lan Zhan’s boobs over her t-shirt, tests out her theory and is happy to note that yes, Lan Zhan has big boobs. She suddenly can’t bear not to have them naked in her hands, to suck her nipples into her mouth and see what noises she makes. Wei Ying pulls away from the kiss, licks down the side of Lan Zhan’s neck whilst pulling her blazer off her shoulders and down her arms. Lan Zhan notices and, the fucking librarian that she is, steps away from Wei Ying to fold the blazer neatly and tuck it over the back of a chair.
Wei Ying is left slumped against the door, wet mouth open in shock. Of course studious Lan Zhan folds her clothes mid sex. Wei Ying has a laugh caught in the back of her throat, stopped by how Lan Zhan looks in her white t-shirt and fitted trousers. Without the jacket, the way the material of her t-shirt stretches over her boobs is obscene. The shirt is so tight that it’s perfectly form-fitting and Wei Ying can trace the line of her bra cups through the material.
“You have amazing boobs,” Wei Ying says, almost on autopilot.
Lan Zhan smirks at this and fuck, that’s killer. “Thank you,” she says. “Do you want me to take this off?” She’s playing with the hem of her t-shirt, showing little flashes of toned stomach.
“Yes, yes, definitely, of course,” Wei Ying says dumbly. “Please.”
Lan Zhan crossed her arms, pulls the t-shirt over her head from the hem and stands there in her - holy fuck - extremely gorgeous lacy white bra as she turns her t-shirt the correct way around and folds it.
Wei Ying has to swallow twice before she can find the words, her mouth simultaneously too wet and too dry. “Fuck,” she says. “Your boobs.”
She’s still leaning against the door where Lan Zhan left her, too weak and too dumbstruck to move, so she feels like prey when Lan Zhan stalks back towards her, cornering her once again. Lan Zhan kisses her and Wei Ying takes that as an invitation to touch her, to feel the amazing weight of her boobs in her hands, to feel the pretty lace of the bra and then to push it aside to toy with her nipples.
Wei Ying pulls away, kisses down Lan Zhan’s neck, across her chest and to her boobs. She laves her tongue across one of her nipples, sucks it into her mouth and soaks in the noise of Lan Zhan’s moans. She bites down on it, grins as Lan Zhan gasps out, her hips automatically thrusting forwards at the sensation. Wei Ying hurries to slip her thigh between Lan Zhan’s legs, to let her grind down on it as Wei Ying sucks and bites at her nipples, leaving red marks and the shine of her lip gloss.
“You’re so hot,” Wei Ying mutters, unable to keep quiet. “You’re so fucking hot. Look at you. You’re loving this. Do you do this often? Take pretty girls off to - what’s this? staff break room? - and have your way with them?”
Lan Zhan can’t stop from grinding herself down on Wei Ying’s thigh. Even through the material of her trousers it feels so good to have that pressure up against her pussy. Her tits have always been sensitive but there’s something else, something about bringing a girl back here where any of her co-workers could come in and see her standing here, tits spilling out her bra and a wet spot forming on the crotch of her trousers that’s making her want.
“Only you,” Lan Zhan says. “I’ve only brought you back here. I only want you.” She looks at Wei Ying, her wet mouth, her hair spilling out from her ponytail, her eyes wide and mischievous, and wants to ruin her. She kisses her, hard and wet and wanting before pulling away completely. “Get naked.”
Wei Ying visibly gulps. “It’s like that, is it?”
“Like what?”
“You gonna tell me what to do, jiejie?” Wei Ying teases. “Gonna make me all nice and wet and then do whatever you want to me?”
“You sound like you’d enjoy it a little too much. Maybe I should just leave?” Lan Zhan pulls her bra cups back up to cover her tits and makes to grab her t-shirt. Wei Ying rushes forwards.
“No no no no,” she says. “I’d like it just the right amount. I’ll be good, I promise. Sit down, jiejie. Let me give you a show.”
Ah, so she’s a brat. That’s nothing that Lan Zhan can’t handle.
The break room is small but functional: a corner kitchenette with a fridge, a kettle and a microwave, a dining table and some chairs, a sofa in front of an old TV. Lan Zhan sits on the sofa and looks expectantly at Wei Ying stood in front of her, still.
There’s silence for a moment.
“Where is my show?” Lan Zhan asks.
“Lan Zhan! You can’t just-“ Wei Ying starts. She flaps her hands around helplessly. “You can’t just look like that and then expect me not to short-circuit about it!”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know! All sexy. Your legs are spread, Lan Zhan, you’re sat like a man.”
She is, if you want to assign genders to sitting positions, but she is man-spreading. She’s lounging on the sofa, one arm across the back, legs open wide in her fitted trousers, lacy bra and white heels.
“I’ve left a space,” Lan Zhan explains, “for you.”
Wei Ying groans. “Ok. You demon. Ok. Two can play this game.” She moves forwards for a kiss, like it’ll give her strength, pulls back and stands in front of her again. “I wish we had some music.”
Music or not, it doesn’t stop Wei Ying from swinging her hips to some imaginary tune, side to side to begin with but then in circles when she finds the rhythm, grinding on the air. She raises her arms above her head, moves them in time with her hips. Slowly, she strokes her fingertips down the opposite arm, coming to a stop at her bicep where she reaches under her faded old band t-shirt and pulls the strap of her bra out. She quickly moves her arm out of the strap and swaps to the other arm, caressing her skin before taking the strap out from underneath the material of her t-shirt and working her arm out of it.
Still swinging her hips, she unties the little knot at the front of her t-shirt which she tied earlier to make it cropped, and reaches inside it, behind herself. She unclasps her bra, takes it out from under her shirt and tosses it at Lan Zhan.
“Party trick,” Wei Ying jokes.
Lan Zhan looks at the bra in her hands, thumbing the ripped lace. “You need a new bra, Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying huffs loudly. “I just sexily took my bra off under my t-shirt and all you care about is that it’s ratty and old.” She pouts dramatically. “Pay attention to me, jiejie.”
“You are not naked, therefore I will not. I asked you to get naked and you have disobeyed my order. I don’t pay attention to bad girls.”
“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying whines. “Don’t say that. I’m good, I promise, I just was having some fun. Don’t be mean, now.”
“I won’t be if you get naked.”
Wei Ying forgets her silly little strip tease act and simply pulls her t-shirt over her head. She unbuttons her ripped jean shorts and pulls them down along with her underwear only to realise that she’s stood in the centre of the library’s staff break room with a girl who she doesn’t know, completely buck naked. She fights the desire to wrap her arms around herself. She does, however, check the upper corners for cameras.
“There’s no cameras, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan assures her. “It’s against union rules to have cameras in an employee break space. And the only people who can come in here are the other staff, whose rotas I know. They won’t disturb us.” Wei Ying noticeably relaxes so Lan Zhan takes that as a cue to continue. “Thank you for stripping for me. I knew you could be a good girl if you tried. Come here.”
Lan Zhan directs Wei Ying to stand in between her spread legs. She doesn’t do anything for a long moment, she just looks at Wei Ying, maps out the lines of her body. She takes in her small tits, her brown nipples, the appendicitis scar on her stomach, the fine hairs on her legs standing up from the cool air.
“You’re beautiful,” she mutters, almost to herself. “So beautiful. I bet you look amazing when you cry.” She looks up at Wei Ying, something molten in those dark eyes that makes it sound like a promise: I will make you cry and you will look beautiful whilst doing it.
“Put your leg up,” Lan Zhan orders. “I want to see how wet you are.”
She doesn’t wait for Wei Ying to move, instead she grabs her calf and forces it into place, her foot on the sofa, her ankle pressing into the outside of Lan Zhan’s thigh. This way her pussy is right in front of Lan Zhan’s face, spread open and obscene.
Lan Zhan checks in with her with a questioning glance before swiping two fingers through her slit, gathering the wetness and making Wei Ying sob against the feeling. She’s been so wet for so long, the feeling of fingers against her pussy feels like relief. Lan Zhan pulls her hand away, inspects the wetness on her fingers, pressing them together and apart to see the way it stretches between them.
“So wet already,” she muses, ignoring Wei Ying for focusing on the wetness against her fingers. “So easy. I bet I wouldn’t even need to prep you. I bet I could just slide right in. Even with my biggest strap, it wouldn’t be a problem.”
Wei Ying whines, unable to move in this position, to shift from foot to foot to get any of this restless energy out. Instead, she digs her nails into her palms and forces herself to keep still. “How big is your biggest?”
Lan Zhan finally looks up at her. “Maybe if you’re good, you can find out. What do you want? My mouth or my hands?”
Wei Ying wants both, she wants all, she wants anything that Lan Zhan will give her and then she wants it all over again. She wants to be covered in Lan Zhan’s affection, smothered in it, safe and surrounded and kept. But she can’t stop thinking about Lan Zhan’s strap and just sliding right in. “Your hands.”
Lan Zhan nods to herself. “Ok,” she says and then presses her face between Wei Ying’s legs.
Wei Ying gasps, buckles over, hands coming out to hold onto Lan Zhan’s shoulders to keep her upright. Lan Zhan licks into her, fucks her with her tongue, licks into the centre of her and sets her alight from the inside out. She holds her in place with hands on her ass cheeks, nails digging into the flesh, massaging it and fantasising about how it would jiggle if she fucked her from behind.
“Fuck, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying whines. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh my god. Fuck.” She’s held so tightly that she can’t thrust into or away from the sensation of Lan Zhan’s tongue against her clit. She has to stand on a single shaking leg and take it, muttering curses and moans into the empty air of the break room. She adds, just to be a little shit, “I said your hands.”
Lan Zhan pulls away, her chin and cheeks already wet and glistening with Wei Ying’s slick. “I don’t take orders from anyone. Especially not a little slut like you.”
Wei Ying gasps. She isn’t given any time to process it, to get used to how the wordslut coming from Lan Zhan’s mouth made her pussy drip, before Lan Zhan’s tongue is drawing circles around her clit again. Wei Ying is gasping, moaning, breathless as she tips her head back and lets Lan Zhan work. Lan Zhan circles her tongue around Wei Ying’s clit, tight fast circles that must be causing cramp in her tongue but she doesn’t stop. She doesn’t stop when Wei Ying threads her fingers through her hair, she only looks up reproachingly and Wei Ying dare not tug her hair or push her head into her pussy. She just touches her hands to Lan Zhan’s head, uses her to keep her upright.
“Fuck,” Wei Ying mutters, never able to keep quiet, even as she feels electricity running across her limbs, her lower stomach clenching against the pleasure. “Fuck. You’re so good. This is so good. I need it hard if I’m gonna come. Hard and fast. Eat it harder.”
Lan Zhan pulls back, slaps a hand across Wei Ying’s ass, barks a, “Don’t tell me what to do,” and dives back in. She presses her tongue hard against Wei Ying’s clit, licks and sucks firm and swift and then Wei Ying is tensing, crying out, coming against her tongue with a beautiful wailing moan.
Lan Zhan doesn’t give her any time to rest. She doesn’t even pull away, she continues to eat her out, sucking her clit into her mouth, letting go with a pop. She places the tensed tip of her tongue right against Wei Ying’s clit, making her whine with over-sensitivity. She presses hard, circles her tongue in a figure of eight. She watches Wei Ying from between her legs, eyes glinting, smug, as Wei Ying tenses up, freezes into motionless and then breaks, comes hard and loud and messy.
“Oh my god,” she moans, breathless. “Oh my god. Lan Zhan. I can’t. I can’t.”
“You can,” Lan Zhan commands. Her face is soaked, her lips swollen and glimmering, a lip gloss made from Wei Ying’s slick.
She swipes her fingers through Wei Ying’s slit, runs them back and forth through her juices to get them nice a wet before slipping two of them inside Wei Ying. Wei Ying wails, unconsciously fucking her hips forward, the leg up on the sofa giving her good traction to fuck herself down on Lan Zhan’s fingers. She expects Lan Zhan to stop her, to still her, to keep her immobile as she takes what she wants.
Instead, Lan Zhan leans back against the sofa, one hand lazily fucking into Wei Ying, watching silently as Wei Ying fucks into her hand. She has this little smile on her pussy-soaked face, a dirty little smirk and Wei Ying wants to wipe it off with a kiss but she doesn’t want to move. She wants to stay here forever, Lan Zhan watching her fuck herself on her hand.
“You’re such a slut,” Lan Zhan says casually. “You’re dripping. My wrist is soaked. You’re going to come like this.”
Wei Ying takes it as a competition. Even as she’s blushing all the way down to her chest, she fucks down onto Lan Zhan’s fingers as she thrusts them up. She’s come twice and barely been allowed to relax, to take a moment to breathe, so it’s no surprise when she’s on the edge again. She whimpers and whines, baring down harder and faster onto Lan Zhan’s fingers until she’s coming, pleasure spreading across her body so intensely that it feels like pain.
She doesn’t stop. She falls forward into Lan Zhan’s lap, kisses her sloppily. She grinds down into Lan Zhan’s hand, circles her hips to make Lan Zhan’s fingers rub around her inner walls. Lan Zhan brings her other hand to circle Wei Ying’s clit, working her inside and out, closer and closer towards an inevitable orgasm. Lan Zhan licks into Wei Ying’s useless mouth, falling open and gasping against the pleasure, unable to do anything but jerkily hump into Lan Zhan’s hand and pant wetly against Lan Zhan’s mouth.
Her pussy feels warm, tight and pulsing, overstimulated and used and so so good. She holds onto Lan Zhan and gasps into her mouth as the pleasure peaks and she’s coming, crying, body thrumming, singing, until it mellows into something softer.
Lan Zhan pulls her hands away, wraps her arms around Wei Ying and lets her slump against her, catching her breath and coming back to herself. Wei Ying is boneless against her, crying softly to herself as she slowly stops shaking and her body feels strong enough to lift her head off Lan Zhan’s shoulder.
Lan Zhan cups her face, wipes at her tears with her thumb. “I knew you’d look so beautiful when you cried.”
Wei Ying humphs, pouting to herself. “Of course, you knew. You make me cry all the time. You’re so mean. Mean girl.”
“Me? Mean?” Lan Zhan says, feigning shock. “You’re the one who asked for this.”
“What? To be meanly and rudely taken in the sexy librarian’s back room and fucked ruthlessly.”
“That was the premise of the role play.”
“No,” Wei Ying says, sitting up in Lan Zhan’s lap and poking a finger in her face. “I wanted to role play what I would’ve done if we hadn’t met at school. How I would’ve seduced you if you were merely a beautiful stranger who worked in my local library.”
“Lesbian signalling with The Price of Salt,” Lan Zhan says. “Inventive.”
“It got you all hot and bothered,” Wei Ying argues, snuggling into Lan Zhan’s embrace again.
“I am hot and bothered anytime you're around me, Wei Ying.”
Wei Ying grins, kisses her jaw, the only place that she can reach without moving her head from its place against Lan Zhan’s shoulder. “Good. As it should be. Eight years of dating and I still make you horny. I’m surprised you didn’t ravish me against the shelves.”
“I do not want to lose my job, Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan deadpans making Wei Ying cackle against her. “Speaking of, we must get dressed before one of my colleagues catches us. One of them has a break in ten minutes.”
Wei Ying pulls away from where she was starting to snooze on Lan Zhan’s shoulder to smirk down on her. “Ten minutes is long enough to make you come, jiejie.”
It’s tempting. Wei Ying is naked and warm on top of her and her pussy is so wet that she’d barely need Wei Ying to circle her clit twice before she’d come.
“My shift finished half an hour ago,” she says instead. “We could go home right now.”
Wei Ying bites her lip. “I could go again. Maybe you could use your biggest strap. Hm?”
“You’re insatiable,” Lan Zhan chides. She smacks her ass, hard. “Get dressed. We’re leaving.”
Wei Ying scrambles to obey.