Outer Banks - Blog Posts
14/08/2022: MISS LURKYMURKER!!!!!!!! there is no way this isn’t a dream!!!! euro tripe rafe is back on this stupid little app and I AM BEAMING!!!! you are one of my favorite authors of all time and i will follow you to the grave. i read euro trip and then college trip and then managed to just drown in all your work at the beginning of this year (i used to be too shy to get off anon but i’ve been here for a while) and the thing is: i don’t even like rafe 😭😭😭 i came across your blog because i saw another author i really liked saying incredible things about you and just had to give your rafe a chance. AND I AM SO GLAD I DID!!! the way you write him in your universes is just so lovely i couldn’t help but fall in love???? all thanks to your beautiful brain and writing (i’ll be a mess when s3 comes out and euro trip rafe just isn’t there on my screen. life is so unfair.) ANYWAYS!!! all of this to say, i breathe and live for euro trip, the story has a very special place in my heart and SEEING YOU WRITE FOR THEM AGAIN- AM I DREAMING? i’m just crazy happy. here’s me just, idk even know… crying over them??? a super classy review (me when i lie) of this beautiful little nugget you decided to bless us with!!!
“Because you’d meant it. You’d asked him how he was, and you’d wanted to know he’d be okay. Rafe didn’t know whether he deserved that. He didn’t know whether he ever would.
And so, he’d run away.” sometimes i forget how insecure he’s always been :((((
“Rafe swallows. His mind fails to stray from the first voice he heard; the heart-squeezing pressure it places on his chest.” THE HEART-SQUEEZING PRESSURE IT PLACES ON HIS CHEST. dude!!!!! your writing!!!!! i visualize and i feel everything!!!!! how do you do this idk but WOW.
“The way his name falls from your lips is a sharp knife to his chest. And then you ask, “How are you?” and it plunges, twists, cuts deeper.” she’s being so kind and it just makes him hurt a little more my heart can’t survive this.
“Some space from Rafe should come as a welcome relief.
Except that it doesn’t.
All it tells you is that he isn’t himself, at a moment; a large part of him is hurting, and a small part of you wants to fix that.” THE FACT THAT THIS PRE EURO TRIP!!!!! THEY WERE JUST BABIES, THEIR FEELINGS WERE STILL SO VERY MESSY AND CONFUSING I LOVE THEM!!! SHE WANTS TO FIX IT ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
and then he bumps her chin!!!!! because of course physical touch is rafe’s thing, i missed him so much!!!!
“you pause, you trail off, you soften your expression and watch Rafe’s falter,” i love the way they are not exactly mirroring each other but it’s more of a action-reaction kind of thing, you know? soulmates since forever!!!!!
“And perhaps that’s why this hurts so much; why the comfort of your presence is crushing pressure to his chest. Because letting himself yearn for you — want you, hope to have you, one day — means letting himself love, feel love, feel it all.
Including that which he lost.” i am in so much pain right now.
“Why?” He teases; he’ll break if he answers honestly, he isn’t sure he’ll survive it. Bad, he thinks, I’m doing fucking bad and you’re going to make it worse before you can make it better,” BAD, HE THINKS, I’M DOING FUCKING BAD AND YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE IT WORSE BEFORE YOU CAN MAKE IT BETTER!!!!!!!!!! favorite fucking line!!!!!! just crush my heart.
“He swallows. He tries to find something else to say; something stupid and meaningless that’ll push you away.
He can’t.” of course he can’t!!!!!!!! he’s always been so honest with her!!!! and especially now that he’s so vulnerable, his mom’s death is still so recent… he can’t!!!!!! ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
“He resists the urge to reach out and brush his fingers over your skin, ensure that you’re real, you’re here, you’re worried about him.” god he’s always been so in love i almost forgot he’s just so drawn to her, like a magnet. i can feel how strong the urge to reach out to her is for him!!!!!!!!! i love the way you write i really do i am in love!!!!!
“You’re here. You were here three months ago, when the wound was still fresh, and it may not be close to healed, yet, but you’ll still be here when it is.” ❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
“A friend,” Rafe affirms with a nod. “A friend who I make out with sometimes?”
“And there he is,” Topper says then, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings up your rear. “Knew all it’d take was a conversation with you.” A FRIEND WHO I MAKE OUT WITH SOMETIMES QUESTION MARK… I HATE HIM, I HAVE SO MANY BUTTERFLIES ON MY STOMACH RIGHT NOW!!!!!! and really love that we get a little bit of playfulness here because he never lets himself crack open too much!!!! I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM and i love topper’s comment.
“Thank you. Seriously,” his breath is spicy mint, faint raspberry.
“I didn’t do anything,” you answer meekly, folding your arms across your chest. Your forearms brush his as you do so, warm sunshine with rippling muscles.
“You did,” he says, disarmingly sober. “You always do.” these tiny little interactions pre-euro trip make me swoon!!!!!! they kill me from the inside out!!!! it’s all so delicate and intimate and it’s just too much and not enough and it’s everything!!!!! SHE DOESN’T EVEN REALIZE HOW IMPORTANT SHE IS TO HIM!!!!! JUST HER PRESENCE WAS ENOUGH!!!!!!! my favorite interactive in this part.
“But I want to sit with you,” Rafe grins easily, nudging your shoulder with his.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 he’s adorable and i’m devastated he isn’t real.
so beautifully written as always!!!! you never miss!!!!
Euro trip blurb: august
Synopsis: Rafe remembers when wanting was enough. (For him, it was enough, to live for the hope of it all)
Warnings: mentions of a parent death, cursing, angst, fuckboy Rafe in full force
a/n: I think this is one of the earliest blurbs I’ve written! Set in the summer before junior year, right after Lillian passed. I remember mentioning that Rafe spent a lot of time avoiding Y/n during the aftermath, because a part of him knew that letting her in would mean letting everything else in too. Here’s some perspective!
“I can’t decide,” the girl whines, the space between her collarbones forming an osculate as she sighs. She angles her body toward Rafe’s expectantly, fresh sunlight bathing her skin burnt amber, faint tones of sepia. “You pick,” she decides, handing him the two spoons in her hand. “Raspberry sorbet or matcha?”
Rafe Cameron doesn’t bother. He places them into the container in front of him untouched, neat movements juxtaposing the sloven way he pulls her close. His lips are firm, impatient enough to leave her breathless; the careless kind of ardency she may define as yearning.
She’d be wrong.
Rafe hasn’t let himself feel anything since his mother’s death. When he bruises her with kisses, tastes the sea-salt, honeysuckle on her skin, it’s because he’s running away.
“Raspberry,” he says when he pulls away, giving her waist an absent squeeze. There’s a barely there imprint of cherry chapstick on his lips, brilliant red that swirls hints of sweet sorbet.
She nods her approval, turning toward the counter to place her order. And when Rafe does the same, when he reaches around her and pays (with clean wad of cash, leaving a tip that’s almost outrageous — even for him), he feels overwhelmingly as though he’s just going through the motions.
Summer’s been hard.
His mother passed away three months ago, today, and all he’s done since then is avoid, avoid, avoid. His father, his younger sisters, his responsibilities, the majority of his friends; all the things he loves, all the things he deserves — you.
Most especially, Rafe’s avoiding you.
Because when he’d walked into class two days after her funeral, red-rimmed pupils with pockets of insomnia beneath the lids, you’d looked up at him and asked, “Hey, how are you doing?”
And you’d done it in that soft, aching voice you never used; it was gentle, genuine, and it’d broken Rafe’s heart cleanly in two.
Because you’d meant it. You’d asked him how he was, and you’d wanted to know he’d be okay. Rafe didn’t know whether he deserved that. He didn’t know whether he ever would.
And so, he’d run away.
Weeks and weeks of missed periods, of stumbling into Noah White’s house dangerously half-cut, and then, at the helm of another cruel summer, opportunistic hook-ups with every girl in his class.
Except you.
“…and then, Lacy said her older brother can totally hook us up!”
Rafe blinks.
“So?” The girl adds, bringing a spoonful of ice-cream to her mouth. “You in?”
“Huh?” Rafe asks then, rubbing the back of his neck distractedly. Endless hours in the sun have lightened the tips of his hair; he’s let them grow out, tease through the frayed edges of his baseball cap.
“Lacy’s?” The girl repeats, brow furrowing a little. “The party? Are you even listening?”
“Oh,” Rafe falters, he shakes his head, he expertly avoids eye contact, “yeah, sure Liz.”
“Yay!” The girl named Liz exclaims, nudging his shoulder approvingly. The movement times perfectly with three sets of footsteps; the bell above Daily Scoop jingles, and in walks warmth, perplexing familiarity.
“Bring Noah,” Liz adds, though Rafe isn’t really listening. His heartbeat quickens. He feels the surface of his palms grow clammy.
“…it’ll be fun, I promise,” continues a voice, glowing and gentle and overwhelmingly soft. “Besides, they’re playing 10 things I hate about you, and you guys know how much I love Heath Ledger —”
“Dude,” groans a deeper voice in response; Topper, maybe Kelce, Rafe doesn’t really care, “you’ve made us watch that film like, a million fucking times already.”
“So? You don’t hear me complaining every time you guys rope me into spending my Sunday playing nine-holes —”
“Except that golf is actually fu— oh, shit, Cameron, is that you?”
Rafe swallows. His mind fails to stray from the first voice he heard; the heart-squeezing pressure it places on his chest.
“Oh, uh, hey,” he answers, turning toward the source of the commotion slowly. He hopes that his expression reads blithe disinterest, that being here with Liz gives you the wrong impression.
It doesn’t.
“Rafael,” you say slowly, taking him in. You haven’t seen much of him over the past three months; his hair is longer, his skin warmer, sunburnt. His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. His pert nose holds a smattering of brown freckles.
The way his name falls from your lips is a sharp knife to his chest. And then you ask, “How are you?” and it plunges, twists, cuts deeper.
Rafe needs it to stop.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he says with a grin, swivelling his cap so it sits backwards on his head. He abandons his table with Liz to head over, all charm and smooth confidence, expertly hidden grief.
“Hey,” you repeat, raising your eyebrows in surprise.
Perhaps you didn’t expect him to approach you so easily. He’s been avoiding you like the plague since his mother’s funeral, and you know it shouldn’t bother you as much as it does. You’re the one who’s always complaining about his annoying grin, his annoying comments, his annoyingly relentless presence and the way he refuses to let up — aren’t you? Some space from Rafe should come as a welcome relief.
Except that it doesn’t.
All it tells you is that he isn’t himself, at a moment; a large part of him is hurting, and a small part of you wants to fix that.
“I’m good,” he answers with a grin, bumping your chin playfully. It’s a tendril of soft touch, but it’s heat enough to set nerve-endings aflame. “Better now that you’re here.”
You frown then, surveying him through narrowed eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant,” you mutter, a crease forming between your eyebrows. “I mean with…” you pause, you trail off, you soften your expression and watch Rafe’s falter, “…everything. Your mom. How are you doing?”
Rafe flinches, almost. The last few words are a barely there whisper, impossibly gentle, as though you care about his answer.
About him.
And perhaps that’s why this hurts so much; why the comfort of your presence is crushing pressure to his chest. Because letting himself yearn for you — want you, hope to have you, one day — means letting himself love, feel love, feel it all.
Including that which he lost.
Because, really, who on Earth’s capable of loving him as unconditionally as his mother did?
“Why?” He teases; he’ll break if he answers honestly, he isn’t sure he’ll survive it. Bad, he thinks, I’m doing fucking bad and you’re going to make it worse before you can make it better, and so, he adds, “You gonna cheer me up with a kiss?”
“Rafael,” you sigh, taking a tentative step forward. There’s half an inch between you, now, faint bergamot mingling with spicy cologne, musk. “Why are you being like this?”
It isn’t the response he expected, and the revelation burns his throat dry, coats his waterline with unshed tears. He swallows. He tries to find something else to say; something stupid and meaningless that’ll push you away.
He can’t.
“I don’t know,” his voice breaks, and he tries not to wince as he clears his throat. Topper and Kelce have long abandoned their posts on either side of you, burying themselves with a menu they’ve already perused a million times . “I’m… it doesn’t matter. Surviving. I’m surviving.”
“Well,” you start, chewing on your bottom lip gingerly. Rafe’s eyes fall to their raw surface, the contour of your jaw, your soft neck. He resists the urge to reach out and brush his fingers over your skin, ensure that you’re real, you’re here, you’re worried about him. “You’ve just… I don’t know. I never got to give you my condolences. I’m sorry, Rafael, I can’t even imagine how…”
You trail off, exhaling slowly. “…I’m here. If you want to talk —”
“— or not talk?” Rafe questions, but he’s grin now, crescent moon curve to his lips that meets the corners of his eyes. It’s the first time in a long while he’s let himself really smile.
You’re here. You were here three months ago, when the wound was still fresh, and it may not be close to healed, yet, but you’ll still be here when it is.
Rafe doesn’t know when the months slipped by; somewhere between his mother’s death, and now, he lost himself within loss, within mourning, endless grief. He doesn’t know when he stopped hoping for, wanting love; when he stopped living for the hope of it all.
He realises now that it doesn’t matter. Lillian Cameron wouldn’t have wanted her son to just give up.
“Will you just —” you pause, pinching the bridge of your nose frustratedly, “— I’m here, okay? As a friend.”
“A friend,” Rafe affirms with a nod. “A friend who I make out with sometimes?”
“And there he is,” Topper says then, throwing an arm over your shoulder as he brings up your rear. “Knew all it’d take was a conversation with you.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, fixing him a stern glare.
“He’s right, though,” he agrees with a wink, and then he pauses, dipping his head until he’s at eye level. This close, you can see specks of green within his blue irises. The tip of his pert nose is sunburnt. And when he adds, “Thank you. Seriously,” his breath is spicy mint, faint raspberry.
“I didn’t do anything,” you answer meekly, folding your arms across your chest. Your forearms brush his as you do so, warm sunshine with rippling muscles.
“You did,” he says, disarmingly sober. “You always do.”
His gaze lingers as he turns back around, and you try not to focus on the way your stomach flips, the way your breath catches at his words.
He’s returning to a table with Liz, you remind yourself, no doubt the millionth girl he’s taken out, kissed on the beach, this summer. You’re not special. He may look at you like you’re the only girl in the world, but you can’t be — not to a douchebag like him.
So, you don’t let his words get to you.
And when you decide to try out two new flavours (mint chocolate chip and raspberry sorbet — a combination that causes Topper to gag, violently), you try not to think about the fact that they taste like Rafe’s breath on your skin.
—
“I can’t believe you actually roped us into this crap,” Topper grumbles, nudging his way through the crowd with you and Kelce close behind. He halts nears an unoccupied patch of grass, crisp blades dried out by the unforgiving, Carolina heat.
“You guys are going to love it,” you insist, unrolling your plaid picnic blanket. The projector is a perfect distance away, cotton candy clouds overlaying large screen.
“Yeah, yeah,” Kelce scowls, setting down several snacks before getting comfortable. “You fucking owe us.”
You send him a saccharine sweet smile, stretching yourself out on the picnic blanket before reaching for a bag of Skittles. The air is thick with the scent of foxglove and forget-me-nots; it’s sticky humidity and cicadas, salty heat that reminds you of the beach.
“Come on,” you press, propping yourself up onto your elbows. You pop several Skittles into your mouth, chewing thoughtfully before continuing, “You haven’t even given it a chance. Just — just wait until the movie starts, alright? And then —”
“Wait a minute,” Topper interrupts; clearly, he wasn’t listening in the first place, “is that fucking —”
“Space for two more?”
You freezd. You recognise that voice; so well, in fact, that you know that the question is directed only at you.
“Uh,” you turn and lift your head, met with Rafe’s figure crouching down beside you. The burnt orange sunset lightens his irises; they look softer, somehow, more genuine than they did. “Why?”
Rafe raises his eyebrows. “For me and Noah?”
“Can’t you guys, like,” you gesticulate awkwardly, floundering, “I don’t know, sit somewhere else?”
“But I want to sit with you,” Rafe grins easily, nudging your shoulder with his.
You frown. “This isn’t what I meant,” you say, eyes darting toward Noah furtively. “When I said I’m here, I didn’t mean you could crash every hang out I plan with Top and Kelce —”
“Sweetheart,” Rafe says then, and he’s almost laughing — how dare he? What about this is funny? “I wasn’t trying to crash your…”
He trails off slowly, trying to find the right words to say. He isn’t sure how he’s able to convey how much your Daily Scoop-side rendezvous meant to him; how very much you’ve helped him feel like himself again.
He feels like an idiot for ever avoiding you. He wants you — needs you to know that.
“…thank you,” he finishes, exhaling slowly. “For… for before, just — thank you, okay?”
For being you. It prompted him to cancel his plans with Liz, just in case, prompted him to drag Noah to the drive-in, just because. Reminded him how it felt to live for the hope of it all.
You may not have been his to lose, but Rafe Cameron held onto the promise of a future where you were.
—
tags: (just some besties) @notdisneychannel @r0und3bitch @destourtereaux @itsalexwin @flossiewrites :)
with all the content coming from season 4 of obx i kind of fell into it again and immediately remembered why i left
the straight fandom of obx scares me sm
Mia’s rules 💌
who i write for, rules, and everything else!
rules ⋆𐙚₊˚ʚ🌷ɞ⊹.˚
who i write for ➻❥ any of the characters i lost below.
what i’ll write for ➻❥ smut, fluff & angst.
what i will not write for ➻❥ incest, noncon, r*pe, sa, death, murder & anything i may be uncomfortable with.
other notes ➻❥ i love taking requests so please always ask 💌
my blog is for anyone over the age of eighteen! however, i can’t stop everyone from reading, i understand the urges and emotions so please just read wisely.
i love all kinks, no hate here! there are a couple i won’t write for but i’m very open to trying!
as always, please never interact if you are in anyway homophobic, racist, transphobic, sexist, just blatantly rude or ignorant! i don’t like all dicks just imaginary ones!
my messages are always open! if anything triggers you or you at any point are unhappy with anything posted here please let me know! we are all human, the least i can do is be a decent one 💌
*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺🎀༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚
who i write for !!
outerbanks
⟢ rafe cameron
⟢ jj maybank
criminal minds
⟢ aaron hotchner
⟢ spencer reid
teen wolf
⟢ stiles stilinski
⟢ derek hale
marvel
⟢ bucky barnes
⟢ steve rogers
⟢ tony stark
⟢ wade wilson
⟢ logan howlett
tvd
⟢ elijah mikaelson
⟢ klaus mikaelson
⟢ kol mikaelson
GIVE ME BACK JOHN B AND JJ AS THE MOST CHAOTIC BESTIE DUO PLEASE 😵💫😵💫
(credits to @lydiaas @poguesgold @kiekiecarrera for the gifs :)) )
Those flashbacks we got at the finale weren't just mourning jj. They were mourning what obx used to be. The core 4. The og pogues. Kie and her boys.
That's all i wanted to say. I'll leave this here.
Take me back to when it was just kie and her boys. The core 4. The og pogues. They were so happy and so young.
Jj never got to be a godfather. He never got to be a better father than the ones he had. He never got to buy that truck. He never got to go on a surf trip with Kiara. He never got to hear Pope say i love you back.
And we'll never get to see him do any of that.
JJ maybank you will always be cherished. I'm sorry we couldn't save you. I love you.
Outer banks doesn't feel the same anymore. Like even if i watch s1 again, just knowing the ending already, it won't bring comfort like it used to. They seriously just ruined it for us. I'm never gonna forgive them. It literally kept me up all night.
Worst of it all is that jj is not coming back. Like ever. He's not pulling a ward. Rudy literally said goodbye to him in a interview.
I just don't understand why they would kill him off. Like at this point might as well cancel s5. Didn't they say that they wanted to bring the pogues home? How are they gonna do that when they just killed one of them, the one that went through hell and back? The one that needed the most to have a happy ending. Doesn't make any sense, they should just cancel it.
I don't want to believe it. My chest is hurting so bad. Why the fuck would you do that. It makes no sense.
What am i suppose to do once outer banks is over? Like i never thought i would actually happen. I can't do this i got way too attached to the show AND the cast. This feels like a breakup over text dude. My heart is seriously breaking.
Hello my friend, I am a hadiah from Gaza.
Can you help my children and donate evetn a little
I was working as a lawyer to bring justice, and now you are the ones who will bring justice to me...We lost our jobs, our homes, all our belongings, we became homeless.. Asking for help is not easy, but saving lives on the front lines
I have children. I suffer from a hernia, diaphragm, stomach bacteria, and infections, and I need continuous treatment...it is expensive.
In the name of humanity and not participating in genocide.I ask you to re-share my story and help my children if possible. Ten dollars is enough to save my children.
🙏😭🌹🍉💔💔
Please do what you can.
I want my children to live in safety and peace. Please don't neglect to do what you can to participate or donate
Link in bio
My campaing vetted by @90-ghost
@ayeshjourney
Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #136 )
Ask fredjas a question
Unfortunately I’m unable to donate money but I can assure that I will try to help you get the money you deserve. I wish peace, safety and love for you, your family and anyone experiencing the same fate.
You’re one inch above the surface, John B. If I was you, I’d start flapping my wings. OUTER BANKS SEASON ONE
OBX SEASON 4 SPOILER
Netflix, hypothetically, how much money would someone have to pay to bring back JJ Maybank into OBX. Like, what is the process of that—can we have an episode where they find a necromancer in Morocco to bring him back in the show that way or what. Asking for a friend.
Evacuating Families with Children 1
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All these families are trying to evacuate at least 1 child under the age of 12. They live in tents that provide inadequate shelter and are constantly exposed to disease. Children are growing up in an unhealthy environment where they suffer greatly from malnutrition, skin conditions, and psychological challenges with which there are no resources to treat.
Far from goal: Ahmed Omer: @ahmedomer9 (@aya2mohammed's brother).
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Small goal: Ahmad and Eman: @loleta-2021, @leen-gaza, @children-gaza, @zain-leen1993 (vet).
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Credit/debit: SEK 99,313 133,838 / 130,000 234,000 $10 USD = 105 SEK
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OBX SEASON 4 SPOILERS!!!
Ik this isn’t an OBX blog, but still. I’m so utterly heartbroken and I will never recover. HE WAS FINALLY SEMI HAPPY AND THEN HE DIED?! LIKE WHAT! PLEASE SAY IM BEING PUNKED!
R.I.P JJ Maybank.
I've finished OuterBanks twice now, once by myself and once with my mom and both times I cried when JJ died
I finished Outer Banks Season 4 and when I tell you I cried for about 10 minutes I mean it cause I wasn't expecting it🤣 So If you haven't watched it yet do it, and If you have seen it please don't spoil it cause it was spoiled for me and I had to rush to finish the last two episodes last night. But I will say that it was a good season until I cried 😩🙂
Cart girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: you meet Rafe during one of your shifts as a beverage cart girl.
Warnings: swearing idk what else
Word count: 797
A/n: beverage cart girls kept popping up on my fyp and I thought I might aswell 😂
MASTERLIST
Divider by @yoonitos
“She new?” Rafe cocks his head towards your direction before swinging his club. Kelce and Topper both look to where Rafe was referring to, spotting you surrounded by a few other golfers.
“The beverage cart girl?” Topper questions as Rafe hums. “Can’t say I’ve seen her around before,” Topper says as the three boys watch you from afar. “Shit, she’s coming our way,” Kelce comments turning around to hide the fact the fact that he was watching as Topper looks away briefly.
“Hey, you guys want anything to drink or snack on?” you ask with a bright smile, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the glaring afternoon sun. The three boys look up from their conversation, momentarily taken aback by your friendly demeanor.
“Yeah—uh, you guys want anything?” Rafe repeats the question to Kelce and Topper, who both nod enthusiastically. “Three Westbrooks, thanks,” Rafe says, his voice casual but with a hint of curiosity as his eyes linger on you.
“Sure,” you reply, stepping out of your cart. Rafe’s gaze follows your movements intently, his eyes raking over you in a way that doesn’t go unnoticed. He exchanges a smirk with Kelce and Topper, who try to conceal their grins, clearly amused by Rafe’s reaction.
“How’s your guys’ day been?” you ask sweetly, your voice filled with genuine interest as you reach for the three cans of Westbrook. “Yeah, yeah, good,” Rafe responds quickly, almost too quickly. “You new around here?” he adds, scratching the back of his neck, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“Uh, not really. I usually do morning shifts, but I’ve switched to afternoons,” you explain, handing them each a can, your fingers brushing Rafe’s briefly. “Cool,” Rafe nods, his eyes never leaving yours, the smirk still playing on his lips.
“Cash or card?” you ask, holding a small notepad ready to jot down their payment details. “Just put it on my tab. It’s Cameron,” Rafe replies confidently, his smirk widening as he notices the moment of recognition in your eyes. “Cameron?” you repeat, locking eyes with him, the name ringing a bell.
Your eyes rake over his features, taking in his confident smirk and the way he holds himself. Tilting your head the tiniest bit, you say, “Well, have a good rest of your day, guys.” You offer a warm smile before turning around and climbing back into your cart.
As you start the engine and drive away, you hear Kelce exclaim, “Fuck, she’s hot, dude,” while slapping Rafe’s chest. Rafe chuckles, his eyes fixed on your cart as it disappears into the distance.
“Yeah, she definitely is,” Rafe murmurs, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watches you leave. Topper shakes his head, laughing softly, trying to hide his amusement. “Think she’ll be around for the afternoon shifts more often?” Topper asks, glancing at Rafe. “Hope so,” Rafe replies, eyes still lingering on you.
~
“Y’know, the craziest thing happened to me yesterday afternoon,” you say absentmindedly, sipping on your fruity drink as you watch him line up his shot. His focus on the golf ball is intense, but he pauses for a moment, intrigued by your comment.
“Hmm? What happened, baby?” he replies, turning to make his way towards you. He presses a quick kiss on your lips before reaching over you to grab another club from the bag.
“I met your son,” you say, swirling the straw in your drink with your finger. Ward looks at you, his expression curious. “You saw Rafe?” he repeats, his tone carrying a mix of surprise and interest. “Yeah,” you hum in confirmation. “He’s quite good-looking, takes after his father,” you add with a smirk, watching as Ward chuckles and throws his head back in laughter.
“He’s a coke addict, baby. Best you don’t involve yourself with him, he’s trouble,” Ward warns, his thumb rubbing gently against your bottom lip. His touch is tender, but his words are firm. You stare up at him, undeterred. “He was nice to me,” you shrug, recalling the encounter.
“That’s because you’re a good-looking girl,” Ward says, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and admiration “You think so?” you ask, your smirk growing. Ward chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek. “I know so.”
As Ward returns to his game, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to Rafe. There was something about him that intrigued you and you couldn’t help but purposely run into him around the course.