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acearohippo · 2 years ago

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Hey, come here a bit. Walk with me on this trail of thought:

Wondering how many kids around Li Ling's age grew up watching him on the news, following vids and feeds keeping tabs on him, hearing rumours about all the stuff he did, and ended up with gigantic, fat crushes on him. How many fathers and mothers bemoaned hearing their children gush about everything he did? Kids trying to emulate his style and speech so they could be as cool as they thought he was. Making thirst trap/heart throb vids of him during his teen years. Preteen/teen espers fantasing about fighting alongside him and marrying him one day. Nonesper preteens/teens fantasing about being saved by him and marrying him.

This went down in 2007+? What if Li Ling was the Justin Beiber of that era that the now current adults either unashamedly reminisce about or would rather be choked by a rusted barbed wire before admitting to?

Would Li Ling even know that, in some child's room, there are whole ass shrines dedicated to him?

Would he ever know of the multitude of polls either comparing him/his younger self to men like Ahmed, Gaius, Narmer, and wars breaking out in the comments of avid fans defending him and trying to cheat votes in his favour?

For my shippers:

Think of Lewis and/or Tang Xuan and/or [insert your of age preferred pairing] having memorabilia of that phase in their lives and desperately trying to pretend it out of existence. And Li Ling being confused af when he finds something, like a crudely made face pillow of himself, random laminated pictures of his face edited onto a groom's body, or an old, forgotten music playlist named "When I become Mr. /Mrs. Li", and the guilty party cruising through denial and trying to play it off.

Alternately, think of your preferred ship NOT going through that phase and thinking Li Ling was just a douchey kid that got away with too damn much cause people thought he was cute or psychotic or some shiii, only to realise that they somehow fell in love with the man... And yeah, he is a douche that gets away with too damn much cause he's hot and crazy and shiii.

I think it would be CRAZY if he didn't have some sort of following.

#the hippo speaks #dislyte #li ling dislyte #I'm really vibing with the idea that Li Ling was a child superstar but had NO IDEA because he lived purely in his own world #and by the time he was mature enough to start thinking outside of his atmosphere the hype and awe around him was gone #cause he was the youngest esper with a Personality #ain't no way he wasn't someone's first crush and or awakening #the beiber thing popped up cause i realised that the miracles probably made them miss that era and its equivalent #does li ling ever find out that he has sites dedicated to him beyond the generic profile of him from the Union?#the world may never know #thank you for your time you many now get off the trail #*shooing motions*

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crookedteethed · 19 hours ago

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ᡣ𐭩 betting on you . • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- you make a bet during a game of beer pong with rafe, the stakes being your virginity.

warnings -- 18+-mdni, smut, semi-public smut, loss of virginity, fingering, oral (f receiving), cursing, frat!Rafe, best friend! Rafe

masterlist(s) | taglist | word count: 1.7k

Music pulsed through the beach house, mixing with laughter and the crash of waves outside. Salt air drifted through open windows, carrying the scent of ocean and bonfire smoke. You stood at one end of the beer pong table, watching Rafe Cameron size up his shot with that insufferable confidence of his.

"Getting nervous, Cameron?" you called out, trying to hide your own flutter of anticipation. "That aim's looking a little shaky."

Rafe looked up, that trademark half-smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Please. I'm just getting warmed up." He straightened, spinning the ball between his fingers. "But since you're feeling confident, why don't we raise the stakes?"

"Stakes?" You arched an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself.

He leaned forward, hands planted on the table edge. "Oh, it's simple. You and I get to have sex, then I get to say I fucked the hottest girl on figure 8, and if by some miracle you win…" His low growl sent shivers down your spine as he slyly spread his hands, shrugging. "Name your price."

The competitive spark in his blue eyes made your heart skip. This was Rafe all over—turning everything into a challenge, pushing boundaries, trying to get under your skin. And the most annoying part?

It was working.

You felt a flush creep up your neck, equal parts arousal and indignation. "You're awfully sure of yourself," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

Rafe's grin widened. "I'm just playing to my strengths. But hey, if you're not up for it…" He trailed off, a hint of challenge in his tone.

That did it. You stepped closer, invading his personal space. "Oh, I'm up for it. And when I win, you'll be my personal servant for a week. Laundry, dishes, whatever I want."

His eyes darkened with desire. "Deal," he growled, voice low.

The air between you crackled with tension as you each took your positions. You tried to focus on the game, but your mind kept wandering to what would happen if you lost. The way Rafe's muscles flexed as he lined up his shot was incredibly distracting. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to concentrate.

The first few rounds were intense, with both of you matching shot for shot. The crowd grew louder with each cup eliminated, their chants and cheers echoing off the beach house walls. Your confidence grew with each successful throw, but Rafe remained frustratingly focused, that signature smirk never leaving his face.

"Four cups left," someone called out from the crowd. "Game's getting good!"

You lined up your shot carefully, but the ball spun out at the last second. Rafe's next throw landed perfectly, drawing whoops from his supporters.

"Your turn, superstar," he taunted playfully.

Three cups turned to two, then one. The pressure mounted with each throw, and you could feel your hands getting sweaty. This was it - Rafe had one cup left, you had two. All you needed was to make these shots.

Your throw sailed through the air… and bounced off the rim. The crowd gasped.

Rafe picked up the ball, twirling it in his hands as he studied the final cup. The beach house seemed to hold its breath. He flicked his wrist, the ball arcing gracefully through the air…

Splash.

The crowd erupted as Rafe threw his arms up in victory. "And that's game!" he announced, grinning triumphantly.

"Lucky shot," you muttered, as you prepared to lose your virginity to Rafe. But he could tell you were pouting and teasingly said, "Don't pout now."

"I'm not pouting," you huffed, crossing your arms. But your lip was definitely sticking out in a way that could only be described as pouty.

Rafe smirked, his eyes roaming over your body in a way that made heat rise to your cheeks. "Sure you're not. Come on, don't be such a sore loser. A bet's a bet."

you rolled your eyes, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. This was Rafe, for crying out loud. Your annoying best friend since middle school. The guy who put gum in your hair in 6th grade. And now here you were, about to…

"Fine," you said, taking a deep breath. "Let's just get this over with."

Rafe's eyes roam hungrily over your body as you straddle his lap. The thumping beat of the music blurs into the background as your hands eagerly rip at his shirt. He chuckles, his voice dripping with amusement.

"Looks like you're not backing out of our little bet," he teases.

"Shut up," you groan, tossing his shirt into the darkness of the room. Before long, both of you are stripped down and exploring each other's bodies with hungry mouths and wandering hands.

Your fingers tangle in Rafe's hair as he trails hot kisses down your neck. A gasp escapes your lips when he nips at your collarbone. The music pulses around you, matching the frantic beating of your heart.

"Wait," you pant, pulling back slightly. Rafe looks up at you, eyes dark with desire.

"Having second thoughts?" he asks, a hint of challenge in his voice.

You shake your head, a wicked grin spreading across your face. "We should make sure the door is locked-- wouldn't want any interruptions."

Rafe laughs a low, sultry sound that sends shivers down your spine. His hands grip your hips, pinning you down to where the bulge of his cock kissed your lips.

"Who cares who comes in? Let them see," he murmurs against your skin. "Now, where were we?"

You respond by capturing his lips in a searing kiss, but when you feel Rafe begin to tug on his cock, you stop him and pull back slightly. Your breath is heavy, and you look into his eyes with a mix of desire and apprehension.

"Rafe, but I'm a virgin," you whisper, the words hanging in the air between you.

Rafe's eyes soften, and he gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear. His lips brushed against the same ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I know," he whispered seductively, his voice dripping with desire. "I want to savor every moment of it." With a hungry look in his eyes, Rafe gently flipped you onto your back and trailed kisses down your body until he reached the source of your arousal.

Your breath catches in your throat as Rafe's lips trail lower. His warm breath ghosts over your most sensitive areas, making you tremble with anticipation. You feel his strong hands gently part your thighs, exposing you fully to his heated gaze.

"You're so beautiful," Rafe murmurs, his voice husky with desire. He plants soft kisses along your inner thighs, inching closer to where you need him most.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust, seeking permission. You give a small nod, biting your lip.

Rafe's tongue flicks out, teasing your folds. You gasp at the sensation, your hips bucking involuntarily. He chuckles softly, using his strong hands to hold your thighs apart as he continues his ministrations.

"Rafe," you moan, tangling your fingers in his hair at the sensation.

He hums in response, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure through you. His skilled tongue explores every inch of you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides a finger inside you, curling it to hit that perfect spot.

Your climax washes over you in waves of ecstasy. Rafe works you through it, only pulling away when your trembling subsides.

He kisses his way back up your body before capturing your lips once more, you can taste yourself on his tongue as he positions himself between your thighs.

"Are you sure?" he asks softly, searching your eyes.

You nod, pulling him closer. "I want you, Rafe. All of you."

With agonizing slowness, he begins to push inside. There's a moment of discomfort, but Rafe peppers your face with compact kisses.

"Relax, baby," Rafe murmurs against your skin. "I've got you."

You take a deep breath, willing your body to soften. Inch by exquisite inch, Rafe sinks deeper until he's fully sheathed inside you. The stretch is intense but delicious. You've never felt so completely filled, so utterly possessed.

Rafe stills, giving you time to adjust. His dark eyes bore into yours, filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness that makes your heart stutter.

"Oh god," you gasp, clinging to his broad shoulders.

Rafe stills, giving you time to adjust. His eyes are dark with desire as he gazes down at you. "You feel amazing," he groans. "So tight and perfect."

Experimentally, you roll your hips. The friction sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you. Rafe's eyes flutter closed and he lets out a strangled moan.

"Please," you whimper. "I need you to move."

That's all the encouragement he needs. Rafe begins to thrust, setting a maddeningly slow pace. Each drag of his cock inside you builds the pressure coiling in your core. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him deeper.

"Faster," you plead. "Harder."

Rafe obliges, picking up speed. The room fills with the sound of skin on skin slapping as you and Rafe are both quick to chase your own highs.

The intensity of your movements increases, driving you both closer to the edge. Rafe's thrusts become more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he loses himself in the moment.

Your as breath becomes ragged as rafe's pace quickens, and the pleasure spirals higher and higher until you can't hold back any longer.

With a cry, you reach your (second) peak, waves of ecstasy washing over you. Rafe follows closely behind, his release coming with a deep groan as he spills into you.

For a moment, you both lie there, panting and trying to catch your breath. Rafe gently kisses your forehead, his eyes filled with affection. You smile up at him, feeling a deep connection that goes beyond just the physical.

"Who would have thought a game of beer pong would lead to this?" you say, grinning at Rafe.

He chuckles, wrapping an arm around you. "I guess some bets are worth losing," he replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You lean into him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "Best friends forever, right?" you ask, half-jokingly.

Rafe kisses the top of your head. "Forever," he agrees, his voice filled with certainty.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer to Rafe, feeling a sense of peace and fulfillment. The world outside can wait; for now, you're exactly where you want to be, with the person who means the most to you.

a/n: thanks for making it to the end of this fic!! As always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

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