outerbankies

[outerbankies]

I just was thinking about you today! Maybe bc my Pinterest is filled with OBX stuff rn! Hope all is well!!! 🩵

hahahaha our brand!!! they’re defrosting for the last time it’s so fun to see

hope all is well with you too! bummer we don’t have any hockey to talk about this late in the season 😂

[outerbankies]

posting a filming spoiler pls don’t look if u don’t want to

[outerbankies]

has it really been that long since our last new light… oh that won’t do!!!

[outerbankies]

Miss rafe hair hope they will let his hair grow in season 5 just a little bit

girl he’s baldddd

[outerbankies]

https://www.tumblr.com/outerbankies/785288601387876352/does-baby-daddy-rafe-and-baby-mama-reader-have-a

Ok can we talk about your thoughts for baby daddy and baby mama hookup and pregnancy things you are working through

right now alllllll I have written is when she tells him and it’s half baked, maybe a quarter lol. I don’t see myself being able to post something over like 5k/ as a series for now, so it might come out in bits and pieces like cowboy rafe is!

but those ideas are both on the list to include. here’s a bit of what I have for the reveal tho… working title is rbd (rich baby daddy) lol:

[outerbankies]

Does baby daddy rafe and baby mama reader have. A boy or girl

you know that’s so real of you to ask and yet I have no idea?? lol

in fact all of my ruminating for this fic is purely during the hook up and pregnancy. absolutely no thoughts for when that baby actually comes

[outerbankies]

I love your rafe cameron he is so dreamy 🥹

Want to marry him.

Feel like he is the perfect mix of Canon rafe and drew

thank u!!!! we can’t know what Drew is like for real but I do my best to project 💋

[outerbankies]

Rafe Cameron in 2.06 My Druthers

[outerbankies]

I miss nl rafe but I won't mind some cowboy!rafe want to know more about him and the dynamic of relationship with him

that’s when — rafe cameron

also known as, cowboy!rafe takes reader into town for some boots 🤠🩵

“What… are those?”

“Aren’t they so cute?”

Rafe can barely even get an honest look at the pair of knee-high, cherry red cowboy boots you were modeling for him with the way you were tapping them around so excitedly, unworn soles almost slipping against the shiny flooring of Tony’s Western Wear.

You nearly do slip at one point, Rafe’s hand coming to hold yours instantly, mooring. “Woah. Got it?”

“Mhm,” you nod, not at all perturbed. “Tony said two weeks and they’ll be broken in. Gotta scuff up the bottoms. Leather! Wanna see?”

Rafe is at a loss as you kick up a boot to show him, catching your foot and holding it up for you.

He’d sent you off with the owner of his go-to shop — the only one worth going to in town if you asked him — entrusting Tony would find you a pair of work boots, because that’s what Rafe had asked him to do.

“They’re… red,” he says unhelpfully as you saunter back over to the full body mirror, leaving the scent of fresh leather in your wake.

He sees your lit-up eyes in the mirror and stops himself from admitting that they make you look like a rich tourist fresh off of a Sprinter van from the satellite airport an hour from here.

But aren’t you?

He forgets that fact more and more these days. 

“I’m obsessed, Tony,” you call, strutting off to the back of the store. “Let’s get these, too.”

“Tony,” Rafe says, exasperated as the owner comes around, holding his hands up in surrender. “I said work boots, didn’t I? Or am I crazy?”

“Relax,” Tony says. “She picked another pair. Even got her into some ropers, too.”

“Oh, thank god for that,” Rafe deadpans.

Tony gives him a blank look. “You wanna tell her no?”

“But these,” you say, coming back around, a cowboy hat somehow having materialized on your head, still showing off your boots to him — like he could miss the way they made your legs look, miles of skin exposed by the cutoff shorts you chose for this June day. Man, these boots were gonna be an issue for him. “Are so much cuter. Can I wear these out? You’ll box up the others?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tony says, accepting the black card you dig out of your purse. One look at Rafe, who shakes his head subtly, and he knows to put these on Rafe’s account instead. That’s the account he puts all of the cowboys’ stuff on anyway - this is no different, he tells himself.

“What happened to your work boots, huh? You said you wanted to go riding,” Rafe teases, finally standing from the stool he’d taken to an hour ago and stretching his arms over his head, his quick trip into town with you for a pair of boots somehow turning into his lower back getting sore from sitting so long and 10 missed calls from the ranch.

“I do,” you say. “And I have some normal, boring boots for that now, since you insisted. But these are for fun.”

“For fun?” Rafe repeats, failing to mask any amusement. He loved living in your world.

“For fun,” you repeat, stepping into place under his arm after he opens the door for you, nodding to Tony - he better enjoy that commission - as he holds your real boots and the shoes you wore in today in the bag with his other hand. “When we go to the bar with the boys, or you finally take me to dinner at the one spot.”

Rafe hardly ever pictured himself walking side by side with an out-of-towner down Main Street in broad daylight, barely going a block without having to nod his head at one of his father’s friends or stop and talk with one of the ladies who had a question about their son coming to work on the ranch. 

The ladies don’t venture to mention their single daughters of his age anymore, Rafe’s noticed, not with you on his arm and getting judgmental glances you were too unflappable to take seriously.

You keep walking right past Rafe’s truck like he knew you would, you and your new boots heading straight for the ice cream shop you’ve taken a liking to in your time here, a stop he’d factored into your trip today before you spent over an hour trying on boots. But Rafe stands by the passenger side door adamantly, having already tossed your shoes in the backseat.

“No time today, baby,” he says. “We should be gettin’ back.”

You turn, hip cocked immediately. Expensive sunglasses with no practicality, lip shade matching your new boots, a vision this town has never seen.

Rafe doesn’t throw his head back in indignation, because he doesn’t want you to know that he knows he’s already lost.

“C’mon,” you say, that accent still so out of place, even more so now with your new getup. “Just a scoop. I’ll eat in the truck.”

Rafe sighs, but he doesn’t move.

“Fine. I’ll meet you back at home,” you say, taking off in the direction of the shop.

“And how’re you gonna do that?” he calls, ignoring the way you said ‘home’ like that’s what it was to you. Like this wasn’t all temporary. “It’s thirty minutes back to the ranch.”

Rafe hadn’t followed you down the street, but he comes around to the front of his truck when you come to a stop, now a storefront down.

Two cowboys from the Peterson ranch pass by you then, both tipping their hats. You give one of them a smile Rafe remembers, from weeks ago when he first took a liking to you; now you look back at him with a wicked grin, and it lights his body on fire.

“You really think I’ll have trouble getting a ride, Rafe?”

Unsurprised by his paper-thin resolve, Rafe walks right past you and toward the direction of the ice cream shop, feeling a smile spread across his face when you stumble to keep up with a single, pleased giggle, your hat knocking into his when you fit right back under his arm, your brand new boots a stark contrast to the ones he wears every day - somehow complementing each other anyway.

“Those are makin’ you act up.”

[outerbankies]

and you are a beautiful writer :)

thank you!! 🩵

[outerbankies]

omg cowboy!rafe is EVERYTHING to me

so true we love him around here

[outerbankies]

I miss nl rafe but I won't mind some cowboy!rafe want to know more about him and the dynamic of relationship with him

that’s when — rafe cameron

also known as, cowboy!rafe takes reader into town for some boots 🤠🩵

more cowboy!rafe

“What… are those?”

“Aren’t they so cute?”

Rafe can barely even get an honest look at the pair of knee-high, cherry red cowboy boots you were modeling for him with the way you were tapping them around so excitedly, unworn soles almost slipping against the shiny flooring of Tony’s Western Wear.

You nearly do slip at one point, Rafe’s hand coming to hold yours instantly, mooring. “Woah. Got it?”

“Mhm,” you nod, not at all perturbed. “Tony said two weeks and they’ll be broken in. Gotta scuff up the bottoms. Leather! Wanna see?”

Rafe is at a loss as you kick up a boot to show him, catching your foot and holding it up for you.

He’d sent you off with the owner of his go-to shop — the only one worth going to in town if you asked him — entrusting Tony would find you a pair of work boots, because that’s what Rafe had asked him to do.

“They’re… red,” he says unhelpfully as you saunter back over to the full body mirror, leaving the scent of fresh leather in your wake.

He sees your lit-up eyes in the mirror and stops himself from admitting that they make you look like a rich tourist fresh off of a Sprinter van from the satellite airport an hour from here.

But aren’t you?

He forgets that fact more and more these days. 

“I’m obsessed, Tony,” you call, strutting off to the back of the store. “Let’s get these, too.”

“Tony,” Rafe says, exasperated as the owner comes around, holding his hands up in surrender. “I said work boots, didn’t I? Or am I crazy?”

“Relax,” Tony says. “She picked another pair. Even got her into some ropers, too.”

“Oh, thank god for that,” Rafe deadpans.

Tony gives him a blank look. “You wanna tell her no?”

“But these,” you say, coming back around, a cowboy hat somehow having materialized on your head, still showing off your boots to him — like he could miss the way they made your legs look, miles of skin exposed by the cutoff shorts you chose for this June day. Man, these boots were gonna be an issue for him. “Are so much cuter. Can I wear these out? You’ll box up the others?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Tony says, accepting the black card you dig out of your purse. One look at Rafe, who shakes his head subtly, and he knows to put these on Rafe’s account instead. That’s the account he puts all of the cowboys’ stuff on anyway — this is no different, he tells himself.

“What happened to your work boots, huh? You said you wanted to go riding,” Rafe teases, finally standing from the stool he’d taken to an hour ago and stretching his arms over his head, his quick trip into town with you for a pair of boots somehow turning into his lower back getting sore from sitting so long and 10 missed calls from the ranch.

“I do,” you say. “And I have some normal, boring boots for that now, since you insisted. But these are for fun.”

“For fun?” Rafe repeats, failing to mask any amusement. He loved living in your world.

“For fun,” you repeat, stepping into place under his arm after he opens the door for you, nodding to Tony — he better enjoy that commission — as he holds your real boots and the shoes you wore in today in the bag with his other hand. “When we go to the bar with the boys, or you finally take me to dinner at the one spot.”

Rafe hardly ever pictured himself walking side by side with an out-of-towner down Main Street in broad daylight, barely going a block without having to nod his head at one of his father’s friends or stop and talk with one of the ladies who had a question about their son coming to work on the ranch. 

The ladies don’t venture to mention their single daughters of his age anymore, Rafe’s noticed, not with you on his arm and getting judgmental glances you were too unflappable to take seriously.

You keep walking right past Rafe’s truck like he knew you would, you and your new boots heading straight for the ice cream shop you’ve taken a liking to in your time here, a stop he’d factored into your trip today before you spent over an hour trying on boots. But Rafe stands by the passenger side door adamantly, having already tossed your shoes in the backseat.

“No time today, baby,” he says. “We should be gettin’ back.”

You turn, hip cocked immediately. Expensive sunglasses with no practicality, lip shade matching your new boots, a vision this town has never seen.

Rafe doesn’t throw his head back in indignation, because he doesn’t want you to know that he knows he’s already lost.

“C’mon,” you say, that accent still so out of place, even more so now with your new getup. “Just a scoop. I’ll eat in the truck.”

Rafe sighs, but he doesn’t move.

“Fine. I’ll meet you back at home,” you say, taking off in the direction of the shop.

“And how’re you gonna do that?” he calls, ignoring the way you said ‘home’ like that’s what it was to you. Like this wasn’t all temporary. “It’s thirty minutes back to the ranch.”

Rafe hadn’t followed you down the street, but he comes around to the front of his truck when you come to a stop, now a storefront down.

Two cowboys from the Peterson ranch pass by you then, both tipping their hats. You give one of them a smile Rafe remembers, from weeks ago when he first took a liking to you; now you look back at him with a wicked grin, and it lights his body on fire.

“You really think I’ll have trouble getting a ride, Rafe?”

Unsurprised by his paper-thin resolve, Rafe walks right past you and toward the direction of the ice cream shop, feeling a smile spread across his face when you stumble to keep up with a single, pleased giggle, your hat knocking into his when you fit right back under his arm, your brand new boots a stark contrast to the ones he wears every day - somehow complementing each other anyway.

“Those are makin’ you act up.”

[outerbankies]

[outerbankies]

cowboy rafe is so bottles and bibles coded

[outerbankies]

skjei & sway ❤️

[outerbankies]