WAITING FOR YOU ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Gag them again Rick.

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH GOT ME KICKING MY FEET AND GIGGLING 💞💘

Kildare University- Junior Year: 11 (Rafe)

Endings Announcement

Synopsis: A Social Media AU in which you find yourself at Kildare University along with your friends. Starting over at a new school shouldn't be difficult. Well, except for the fact that your ex-boyfriend is the quarterback, and you are the drum major. Add in a little bit of drama, a lot of friendship, an ex who can't seem to let you go, and a best friend who has been in love with you since you were kids and well? Welcome to KU!

Pairings: Past!Rafe x Reader, JJ x Reader, Rafe x Reader

Masterlist

Taglist:

@akobx @onelonelybitch @the-universe-and-karma @beeskisses @frankoceanluvr11 @ivy-34 @rafecameronsloverrrrr @k-k0129 @asyouwish-fromcabin3 @xoxo-ada @aariahnaa @strawberryforks @urbrunettebombshell @whatisoutside @spenceatiny18 @animalistic0 @modern-mermaid @ethanthequeefqueen @lilahrosee @angelicameron @aesthetic-lyss

‘YOU WANT ME TO LET HIM PAST TOO?’ HBXKSBXKSH

i'm much happier with the car this year. my seating position is finally further rearwards, i've got a better feel for the car approaching the corners. but there are other areas that have been fixed and improved. and it feels like a race car for once. the last two cars didn't feel like that. so, it's a really good platform for us to work on. we just gotta keep our heads down and keep on chasing.

- Lewis Hamilton

let me start off by apologizing by being so late, on another note…this is so teeth rotting cute my brain is exploding from all this sweetness. I love sassy Lila and everyone teaming up against JJ has me rolling, plus Lila knowing her rights to a lawler it’s just extremely funny! Great work my love xx.

Kildare Elementary: Part Three

Synopsis: 7 years ago, you and your best friend got drunk at a party and you ended up having a baby. You guys gave your relationship a shot, but he has always been in love with someone else. So, you guys remained friends after your daughter was born and you moved to the next town over. Now, there's an opening at the school all of your friends work at, and you are itching to take it. Perfect, right? Well, it would be if your classroom didn't somehow get moved next to your childhood crush and you can't tell if he is flirting with you or just really bad with technology. Inspired by Abbott Elementary and @zyafics HB:L!

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader/Past!JJ Maybank x Reader

Masterlist

Taglist:

@onelonelybitch @k-k0129 @callsign-mirage @akobx @lilahrosee @jaydaaasworld @mileyraes @ethanthequeefqueen @pogueprincesa @davinashifts333 @daysis-stuff @leather-n-velvet @dearluuna @naylanae-0308 @vviolets444rroses @hadids-world @athenalovesgoodies @venic-bxtch @justdamnpeachy @my-name-is-baby @marleymarleymarleymarley @linasdiaries @sage-burrow @pastryboyyy @sunflouer04 @inthelibrarybtw @aesthetic-lyss @acidfeens @jun1p3rlol @beebeerockknot @voidangxls @sweetlike-sugarplum @thewackywriter @icon8 @maeverae006 @rafegetinmybed @evelynffics @popcorntales

MAAM THIS IS ME ASKING U AB UR RAFE HC THANKS

🤭🤭🤭how did you know i wanted to talk about them? 😏

-he wears contacts and has the cutest lil glasses that he’s so embarrassed of

-he’s a stem kid

-he drinks black coffee, unless it’s iced and then he’s getting the most sugary drink on the menu while pretending it’s for you

-if he had it his way, his room would be black, but Rose decorated it and there’s very little personality in his room

-i think his mom decorated his room when he was little and when Rose was renovating the house she accidentally dropped one of his things so now all of his little trinkets and stuff are in his closet so Rose can’t touch them even if it was a literal accident

-his favorite color is red

-he’s such a little neat freak

-his mom used to sing him to sleep and now he sleeps better if someone he loves is talking to him beforehand

-he sleeps on his back

-he’s either the heaviest or lightest sleeper, there’s no in between

-his teachers loved him

-he’s really well versed in like latin or french, and took those classes all through school

-like abi said🤭 he’s really good at piano, but only uses it alone and as a stress reliever

-he cuts his hair when he feels too emotional and he did it right after his mom died to spite his dad

-he can fuck up a bowl of fresh fruit

-he loves a salad but thinks it’s too girly so he has to get !!!protein!!!

-he hates working out but read somewhere that it was a good anger management tool

-in school, when he was without his friends, he was really nice to the “weird kids” because his mom always reminded him to be kind to everyone

tbh i think his mom was like the sweetest, bubbliest person ever but idk that might just be me

Welcome to My Surf Shack!

Hey there, wanderer! You’ve just washed up on my little slice of the internet. Think of this as a cozy beachside shack where I share my favorite finds, thoughts, and inspirations.

Here, you'll find a mix of my favorite things:

Drew Starkey appreciation, Outer Banks vibes, and the thrill of Formula 1. It's a chill spot for dreamers, creators, and anyone who loves a good ocean breeze.

Kick off your sandals, stay awhile, and let's ride the waves of creativity together. Don't forget to leave a note, there's always room for a new beach buddy here!

chris & matt porn links

inspired by: @mangoposts <3

————————————————————————

chris:

- snaps to make your day better

- ruined edging

- car sex

- sloppy head

- when i miss you

- home alone

- in love

- dom chris

- face sitting

- pussy drunk

- overstimulation

- after a long day

- shower sex

- switch chris

- a good boy

- begging

- desperate

- submissive

matt:

- tummy rubs

- needed release

- titty suck

- eater

- gamer boy

- praise

- tease

- breeding

- jerking off

- bondage

- sensitive

- slow and sensual

- rough

- pegging

- making a mess

- in control

- can’t take it

- needy

- touching

Of Tears and Triumphs

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summarize: A quiet morning at the Cameron estate becomes a turning point as the reader grapples with anxiety and a relapse in her eating disorder journey . Rafe, noticing the distress, offers comfort and support, reminding her that nothing is ever lost.

Warning(s): Eating disorders (compulsive eating), body dysmorphia, anxiety, emotional distress (shame, guilt), mental health struggles (depression, self-image issues), substance abuse (reference to past drug use).

A/N: To anyone reading this who is struggling right now, I want you to know that you are not alone. It's okay to feel lost, to feel overwhelmed, and to not have everything figured out. Healing is a journey, and it doesn’t happen overnight. Be kind to yourself, even when it feels impossible. You are so much more than your struggles.

Remember, reaching out for help is a sign of strength, not weakness. There are people – therapists, counselors, loved ones – who can support you through this. You don't have to face it alone, and you deserve to find the peace and healing that’s waiting for you. Please, take the first step towards getting the help you deserve. You are worth it. 💙

The sun had just begun to creep over the horizon, casting a gentle, golden glow over the Cameron estate. Everything was deceptively perfect: the ocean's rhythmic crashing in the distance, the birds that chirped from the tree canopies, and the soft rustle of leaves carried by the morning breeze. Yet beneath this serene surface, a storm brewed in your chest.

You sat on the edge of the bed, legs folded underneath you, the light duvet twisted in your restless fingers. Rafe's side of the bed was empty, the indentation of his head still fresh on the pillow. He'd gone out for an early surf with Kelce and Topper, leaving you alone with your thoughts – a dangerous place to be.

The room felt stifling, the silence pressing into your ears like cotton. You glanced at the old Polaroid on the nightstand. In it, you and Rafe were beaming, arms slung around each other at some summer bonfire weeks before. Your hair was wild from the salt water, and his grin was as reckless as ever. It was weeks after your steady recover, before you tripped and the weight of guilt and shame began pressing down on you like lead.

Yesterday had started normally. You’d woken up with the soft glow of the sun filtering through the curtains, feeling almost optimistic. It wasn’t until you scrolled through Instagram that the first thread of anxiety wove itself around your chest. A picture from a girl you used to know, toned and confident in her bikini, had appeared at the top of your feed. The caption read “Hard work pays off.”

Your thumb froze mid-scroll, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. Memories of skipped meals and endless calculations surfaced like unwelcome ghosts. A voice in your head, sharp and familiar, whispered, Why can’t you be like that?

The feeling followed you through the day, clinging like a second skin as your whole algorithmic seemed to sense your mind and show you all the gorgeous and thin girls in your feed. By the time afternoon came, the anxiety had grown into a suffocating mass that sat heavy in your chest. You paced the kitchen, each footstep echoing in your head. The silence was unbearable, the ticking of the clock like a countdown to something inevitable. You knew you weren’t going to settle down or forget until you did it.

The pantry door creaked as you opened it. Your fingers hovered over the neatly stacked items, trembling. Just a little, you told yourself, reaching for a handful of crackers. Just a few so I can cover this awful feeling – some good, old food comfort. But one taste turned into two, and soon, control slipped through your grasp like sand.

You moved on autopilot, the familiar numbness settling in as you grabbed chocolate bars, chips, anything you could find. Each bite was frantic, fueled by desperation and self-loathing. The last spoonful of ice cream melted on your tongue, its sweetness turning bitter as regret surged up, hot and suffocating.

When you came to, the evidence surrounded you: wrappers crumpled like discarded dreams, smudges of chocolate on your hands, the tub of ice cream half-melted on the counter. The kitchen, once a place of comfort, had become a cage, and you were the only prisoner.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The weight of shame pressed down, crushing and relentless.

This morning, the mirror was your jury, and it was merciless. You tugged at your shirt, the fabric clinging to your skin as if conspiring against you. Your eyes, usually bright with laughter, were rimmed with red, dull and haunted. The internal monologue was relentless:

You’re weak. You’ve ruined everything. How could you let it happen again?

The silence in the house was shattered by the sound of the front door opening and closing. Rafe's voice echoed through the hallway, carefree and light. “Babe? You here?”

You didn’t respond, the shame was too raw, too close. You pulled your knees tighter to your chest, staring blankly at the mirror as if it would offer some kind of reprieve.

Footsteps approached and then paused at the threshold. The room was drenched in the soft, fading sunlight, but it did nothing to lift the heavy atmosphere.

“Hey.” Rafe’s voice softened when he saw you, the smile fading from his lips. Concern clouded his eyes as he took in your hunched form, your tear-streaked cheeks. He set down his phone without a word, crossing the room in three long strides.

“What happened?” he asked, voice low and gentle. He knelt beside you, resting a warm hand on your knee. The weight of his gaze was heavy but not suffocating, it was grounding.

“I messed up.” You whispered, voice breaking. “I messed up so bad.”

Rafe’s brows knitted, and he took a breath, steady and patient. “Talk to me, baby.” he coaxed. When you didn’t reply, he shifted to sit beside you on the floor, pulling you closer.

“I ate. I ate everything yesterday. I couldn’t stop.” you admitted, the words spilling out in a rush. Your voice trembled with the weight of confession. “And now I can’t stand to look at myself or… or to look at food again.”

His jaw clenched, not out of anger but out of a protective frustration. “Hey, hey” he whispered, turning to face you fully. His hands found yours, fingers weaving together with tender insistence. “Listen to me. You are not defined by one moment, alright? Not by yesterday, not by what happened.”

Tears welled up again, and you looked down, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe reached out, tilting your chin up so that you had no choice but to look at his blue eyes. “You were there for me, remember?” he said, his voice thickening. “Every time I messed up, every time I felt like I couldn’t crawl out of that pit with coke. You pulled me through. Don’t you dare think I’m not going to do the same for you. For however long it takes.”

The room stilled, the truth of his words settling into the spaces between the pain and you couldn’t help the sob that escaped your lips. You felt pathetic and mess, and yet Rafe was being understanding and loving – he was treating you like you should treat yourself.

He took your hand, placing a kiss to your palm as his eyes watched you tenderly. “Why don’t you take a nice bath?” he suggested, his voice gentle but firm. “It’ll help you feel a little better.”

You blinked at him, the exhaustion and emotional weight making it difficult to argue. Reluctantly, you nodded, and with a small smile, Rafe guided you to the bathroom, making sure you were settled before stepping out quietly, having lighten up your favorite eucalyptus scented cantle on the way out.

As the warm water wrapped around you, easing the tension in your muscles, Rafe was already in the kitchen, brow furrowed as he watched a YouTube video on his phone, the volume low so you wouldn’t hear. The video was one of those wholesome, comforting cooking channels, and he paid close attention, following each step precisely. He wanted this to be a surprise, a moment where he could make you feel seen and cared for like you had made him feel when he was struggling to keep clean.

Half an hour later, you slipped into one of Rafe’s sweaters, not wanting any fabric hugging your body. The scent of simmering herbs greeting you as you opened the bedroom’s door. Your curiosity piqued, and you made your way to the kitchen to find Rafe standing over the stove, a look of focused concentration on his face as he stirred a pot.

“Rafe?” you called, the sound soft, hesitant.

He turned, a sheepish grin spreading across his face as he caught your surprised expression. “Hey, I thought you could use something warm and comforting.”

“You didn’t have to—” you started, but he interrupted with a warm look.

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly. “It’s just a light soup to warm your stomach and keep you up. Something gentle to help you feel a little more settled.”

A few minutes later, he ladled the soup into a bowl, sliding it in front of you with a spoon. “This is going to be the best soup you’ve ever had.” He promised with a wink.

“And if you can’t eat much, that’s okay but you just gotta try, alright.” He pulled a chair, his arm sneaking around your waist as he brought you to his lap. His hand on your hip brushing a soft pattern under the fabric.

“Thank you.” you whispered, the tightness in your chest easing a little as you blinked a tear away.

Rafe pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Always,” he said, his voice unwavering. “And remember, we’re in this together. Every single step.”

The first bite was warm and soothing and you felt your cheeks burning as he guided the spoon to your lips but his gentle whispers distracting you from feeling ashamed. He watched, eyes hopeful and patient. “It’s… really good.” you said, a small, genuine smile breaking through.

“Told you.” he grinned proudly, his lips moving to the bare skin on your shoulder. “And if we have to go through this a hundred more times, we will. We’re in this together, okay?”

You nodded, the knot in your chest loosening, replaced with something warm and steadfast. Hope didn’t feel so far out of reach.

“Tomorrow, we’re booking an appointment with the best therapist in Charleston. We’ll find someone who can help, okay? Someone who can give you the support you need.”

The sincerity in his voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. It felt like an embrace, even though he hadn’t moved further.

“You can do this, baby. You’re my tough girl, remember?” He whispered, his hand running up and down in a soothing rhythm on your back as he pressed a kiss to your lips.

Love the idea of just being besties with a girl but we regularly hook up and get each other off. Like oh no your boyfriend was being a dick to you? Let me eat you out until you're cumming all over my face and feel better. Bad day at work? No worries bestie! You can fuck your anger out on me until I'm screaming your name into my pillow! Let's hang out to watch a movie and it turns into us both rubbing our pussies because it was a long week and we just need some relief <3