Rafe Cameron Imagines

Summer Shenanigans🤍

It was one of those rare weekends when everything felt perfect. The sun was high, the air warm but not too hot, and the soft sounds of the Outer Banks breeze made the day feel like it was straight out of a movie. You and Rafe had spent the afternoon hanging out at his place, laughing over silly things, and making plans for the weekend. Everyone else was off doing their own thing, so you two had the house to yourselves.

You had been trying to teach him how to bake—something that Rafe clearly wasn't the best at. The kitchen was a mess, flour on the counters, the mixer still humming away as you tried to avoid getting any more on yourself. Rafe was standing next to you, trying to be helpful, but his focus kept shifting as he kept sneaking glances at the TV in the other room.

"Rafe, come on," you said, shaking your head as you tried to smooth some batter into a cake pan. "Pay attention, we don't want this to turn into another disaster."

He grinned, running his hand through his hair. "I'm paying attention! I'm just trying to figure out if we should watch the game or finish this... masterpiece of a cake you're making."

You shot him a playful look, laughing despite yourself. "It's not a masterpiece yet, but it will be. If you help me."

He raised an eyebrow. "I help in my own way." He grabbed a spoon from the counter and started "helping" by licking the leftover batter off it, clearly not taking the baking too seriously.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics. "Rafe, we're making this for a reason—my parents will be home soon, and we need to look like we know what we're doing in the kitchen."

He shrugged, still holding the spoon with a grin on his face. "They'll never know. It's not like anyone's going to care once they taste it."

"Rafe..." You sighed, trying to keep it together as you wiped your hands on a towel. "If this cake ends up being a disaster, you're cleaning it up. I'm not dealing with that mess."

He smirked, tossing the spoon aside before walking over to you, his hands going to your waist as he spun you around. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Besides, even if it does turn into a mess, at least we'll have fun with it."

You were about to say something, but the doorbell rang, interrupting you. You glanced over at Rafe, both of you exchanging a confused look. Who could that be?

He walked to the door, pulling it open to reveal Topper, Sarah, and Kelce, all grinning mischievously. "What are you guys doing here?" you asked, trying not to smile at their antics.

"We heard there was a baking competition going on," Topper said, raising an eyebrow. "And we didn't want to miss it."

"Oh, it's on," Rafe said confidently. "We've got this in the bag."

Sarah raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, we're just here to judge, okay? But I warn you, I'm tough on desserts."

With that, the group made themselves comfortable in the living room while you and Rafe tried to finish the cake without it falling apart. Rafe, ever the jokester, couldn't resist starting a food fight with Kelce over who could make the best frosting.

The chaos was nearly impossible to keep under control. Sarah and Topper were laughing, Kelce was trying to spread frosting on Rafe's face, and you were just trying to salvage what was left of the cake you'd been working on.

At one point, you gave up entirely, and Rafe just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight hug as frosting and flour flew around you. "You know," he murmured, his face buried in your hair, "we might not win the baking competition, but at least we're having fun with it."

You couldn't help but laugh, even though you were covered in frosting. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"Exactly!" He pulled back, but his hands lingered on your waist, his eyes lighting up with that mischievous spark you loved so much. "And we don't even need to be good at it. We're making memories, and that's way better."

The group continued their chaotic fun, with frosting battles turning into flour wars, and laughter ringing through the house. You and Rafe stole a few moments, making sure the cake didn't end up completely ruined while everyone else distracted themselves with food fights.

When it was finally time to settle down and assess the "damage," Sarah sat up, brushing frosting from her shirt. "Okay, okay," she said, looking down at the half-finished cake, "this isn't half bad. It's got that 'charm' to it."

Topper, pretending to be an expert food critic, nodded sagely. "It has an... earthy taste. Could use more sugar, though."

You couldn't hold back your laughter. "You're both ridiculous."

Rafe leaned into you, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as you both tried a piece of the "masterpiece" cake. "See? I told you we'd win them over."

"You were right, even if it's a bit... rough around the edges," you said, shrugging but smiling all the same. "But hey, we made it, and that's what matters."

The group laughed, each of you taking another bite of the cake, now half-eaten but somehow still delicious. In between bites, Rafe leaned over and whispered to you, "We should totally make this a regular thing."

"Baking?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, not baking." He grinned. "The fun part. The messy part. The part where we're not afraid to laugh at ourselves."

"I'm in," you said, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling content and happy with how the day turned out.

Later, as the mess began to settle and the laughter died down, everyone gathered around the table, chatting about plans for the next day while enjoying the leftover cake. You and Rafe sat side by side, stealing glances and small smiles as you both enjoyed the chaos and peace at the same time.

When the sun started to dip below the horizon, you all began cleaning up, and the noise began to die down. You were left alone with Rafe again, the evening quiet now after the fun-filled day.

"I'm glad we did this," you said, resting your head on his shoulder as you both looked out the window at the setting sun. The house was now calm, the faint sounds of music from the living room still echoing softly.

"Me too," he said, squeezing your hand tighter. "Next time, though, we might want to stick to something simpler, like pizza or ice cream."

You chuckled. "Sounds good to me."

In that moment, you knew that it didn't matter what you were doing—whether it was baking or just hanging out on the couch with Rafe. What mattered most was the time you spent together, making memories, and sharing moments of laughter. Because with him by your side, everything always felt just right.