Archive of Our Own ^beta

Liu Yuning’s hand is on her knee, and it's all she can think about. 

Earlier that same evening, they’d attended a mutual friend’s birthday dinner, and she and Liu Yuning had been introduced for the first time. 

Throughout the dinner, it seemed every time she looked over at him, he was already looking at her.  She couldn’t quite tell what was behind his eyes – amusement?  Interest?  Attraction? 

Then, as everyone was leaving the restaurant, he asked if he could add her on WeChat.  He waited until everyone was out of earshot to invite her over to his place.

Then there were all the logistics and security protocols to go through when someone is visiting a celebrity’s place, a whole byzantine process that finally culminated in her knocking on his front door and greeting him and Daimi.  Then he was taking her coat, giving her some house slippers, pouring sparkling water for her, offering her some fruit, and they settled down on his couch.

For the last 30 minutes he’s been moving incrementally closer to her as they talk.  He’s taken off his glasses and laid them on the coffee table.  He’s got one leg tucked underneath him, upper arm resting on the back of the couch, head leaning on his hand. His entire body is angled towards her. 

And now his other hand is on her knee, thumb stroking back and forth.  Who could possibly say how long it’s been there?  Ever since it happened, she’s been having trouble concentrating on anything else.  What is he talking about right now? His fingers are so long. She can feel the heat radiating off his body.  When he glances down at her mouth for the third or fourth time, she finally grabs the front of his shirt, closing the distance between them, and kisses him.

When she pulls back, he’s grinning, eyes crinkling around the edges. 

“What?” she asks.

“Was I moving too slowly for you?  I was trying to set a mood,” he says, laughing softly. 

She blushes and covers her mouth.  “I’m sorry!”

“You definitely don’t need to be sorry for that,” he responds, grabbing her wrist, pulling her towards him, and kissing her.

She can tell he wants this just as much as she does by how fervently he kisses her.  One hand is at the back of her neck, making sure she stays close, and the other holds her waist tight. He sweeps his tongue into her mouth, and she brushes her tongue back against his.  Between kisses, they’re both breathing hard.  The hand on her waist is creeping up the back of her shirt.  God, his hands. 

When he starts kissing her neck, his breath hot against her skin, she says, “Maybe we can move this to your bed?”

“Mmm, yes,” he agrees.

He pulls back, stretching his legs out.  As she starts to stand up, he says, “Just wait a second before we get up, though.”

She looks pointedly towards his crotch and says, “Trust me, I am not gonna be offended by that.”

 “It’s because my leg is numb from you sitting on it, you pervert!” he says, cackling, rubbing his thigh. 

Before she can apologize again, he says, “Come back,” and pulls her to him, kissing her again with heat. 

He slides his hand up the front of her shirt this time, covering one breast with his palm.  She breathes in sharply through her nose, and he shifts, stroking her nipple with his thumb over her bra.  She moans.

“Good?” he asks softly.

“Yeah,” she breathes.  She’s practically squirming, wanting to rub her legs together.

Abruptly, he stands up, grabbing her hand.  “Okay, let’s go!” he says, smirking, pulling her towards his bedroom.

When they enter his bedroom doorway, he says, “Wait here for a second.”

He’s fiddling with some switches near the bed, and then he pulls out his phone and starts swiping around.  She stands there with her hands in her back pockets, watching his face, admiring his sharply angled jaw, his pointed chin, his pronounced cupid’s bow, the tiny mole under his eye.  

Finally, he taps his phone one last time, sets it on the nightstand, and looks up at her.  Soft music is now emanating from somewhere in the room, and the lighting is dim and diffuse.

“I had to set the right mood,” he says.

She smiles. “I can see that’s a thing for you.”

He gets on the bed, crawling on all fours to the centre.  “C’mere,” he beckons to her.

Having all 1.9 meters of him laid out and pressed against her, kissing her and stroking her breasts, is even better than everything she’s already thoroughly enjoyed this evening.  She feels like she could make out with him forever – he could just insinuate his thigh between hers and she could grind against him for the next 12 hours or so.

“Off,” he says sometime later, pulling her shirt over her head, and then helping her unhook her bra.  He lays her back and takes one of her nipples into his mouth, sucking, and she cries out in pleasure.  He just hums and lightly pinches her other nipple.  After a while, he switches sides.  She is squirming now.

“You, too,” she says, pulling up his shirt, which he removes. “And these,” she adds, unbuttoning his pants.

“You too, then,” he says, and for a moment they fumble their pants off and then they’re both left in just their underwear.  He’s wearing black boxer briefs, and she can see how hard he is for her.  Her heart pounds.  When he lays back down, the heat of his bare chest against her breasts is fantastic.

As they kiss, he slides a hand under the waistband of her underwear, cupping his entire (huge) hand over her at first, and then dipping into her slightly with a fingertip. 

“Fuck,” he murmurs, “you’re so wet, that’s so hot.”

He strokes her wetness up towards her clit.  He touches her slowly to start, watching her responses, listening for when she gasps or moans when he touches her a certain way.  The pleasure builds gradually; he doesn’t seem to be in any particular hurry.  Meanwhile, she’s writhing, desperate for it, her moans and cries rising incrementally in pitch and volume.  

“Yes, there!” she finally exclaims.  “Don’t stop, oh my god... I’m gonna come…”

He doesn’t stop.

When she comes, her entire body lights up from the inside, a wave of heat radiating from her core out into her extremities.  He doesn’t stop stroking her until the last aftershock travels through her, her body trembling.  He looks slightly smug as she looks up at him and says breathlessly after a moment, “That was really good.  Really, really good.”

When he settles down next to her, she reaches for him and palms his erection through his boxer briefs.  His eyes flutter closed and his mouth opens.  He exhales sharply.

“What do you want?” she asks, continuing to stroke the length of him through the fabric.  “Because I really want to feel you inside me.”

“Me too, yes, I want that,” he says, the words falling out of his mouth quickly.  “Just give me one moment.”

While he gets a condom from the nightstand, she slides her underwear off and centers herself on the bed, laying back, admiring his body as he takes off his boxer briefs and slides the condom on.  While he is thin – not a scrap of fat on him – his muscles are also nicely toned.  And as soon as she first met him tonight, her physical reaction to his height was immediate and visceral. Tall. Hot.  She just loves the idea of him being able to envelop her. 

It doesn’t hurt that his cock is proportional to the rest of him.  He’s not huge – and honestly, she doesn’t really need or want huge – but he’s a bit above average.

He settles himself between her spread legs and looks her in the eyes.  “Okay?” he asks.

“Yes, please,” she says, and she can hear in her own voice how much she wants him inside her.

He eases in gradually, then pulls out slowly, then pushes back in a little less slowly, and then he’s fucking her, smooth, long strokes.  It’s like the endless cycle of an ocean wave, and she can feel every inch of him inside her this way.  But she also needs more of him, so she can’t help but cry out, “A little harder, yeah, a little faster.”

 “Always so impatient with me,” he teases, while also giving her what she wants, thrusting more forcefully, so she feels powerful jolts of pleasure.  And because he’s so large, he really is all around her, enveloping her, his hair hanging down over his eyes, his face glistening with sweat.  He’s so beautiful.

Eventually, he slows down, saying, “Fuck, I want to make this last for you, but you feel so fucking good, I don’t know if I can.”

She replies, “I don’t care, I wanna feel you come, I wanna make you feel good.”

It’s true, too. It feels so good just knowing he’s out of control because of her.

“Okay,” he agrees, and speeds up again.  He gets a bit frantic and desperate, fucking her into the mattress, clearly on the precipice.

When he does come, he buries his head against her neck and cries out, hips stuttering.  It seems to go on for quite a long time.  He’s panting at the end of it, but, careful not to crush her, he rolls off to the side and disposes of the condom.

When he comes back, it seems all the tension has left his body.  She’s noticed he tends to be full of nervous energy a lot of the time, but he’s got none of that right now.  He smiles a bit dopily and slides a hand over her hip, down between her thighs.  “Can you come again?” he asks.

“Yeah, I think so,” she says, nodding.

This time, he fingers her, and his long, slender fingers feel so good inside her. 

“God, you’re even wetter now, I love it,” he says.

She really loves his hands.  With his thumb, he rubs her clit, and it’s not long until she’s coming again, trapping his hand between her thighs as she rocks her hips, shaking through it. 

When he does extricate his hand after a moment, he grabs her hand and kisses the center of her palm. 

“Do you feel like watching a TV series or something?” he asks.  “I usually can’t fall asleep unless I have something going on in the background.  There is this really good anime I’ve been watching…”

So they brush their teeth – he gives her a spare toothbrush – and he lends her a t-shirt to sleep in, which is ridiculously oversized on her, but the material is incredibly soft and comfortable.  He calls Daimi over to settle into her dog bed for the night.  She learns he has a pretty elaborate skin care routine.  She just washes her face and uses some of his moisturizer and doesn’t bother with any of the other steps.  When he crawls into bed next to her and switches on the anime, he kisses the top of her head.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yep,” she says.

She’s asleep 5 minutes into the first episode.