Jj Maybank/Rafe Cameron x Reader Smut

I Need Cocaine//RafexReader

The party was starting to die down, probably because Rafe sold the rest of his cocaine, which just left the keg if kids wanted to continue to get fucked up. You weren't a foreign exchange student, per say, but more like a summer intern for the Cameron's. They were great business people so you asked if you could learn from them, which they agreed to, as well as generously offering for you to stay in their humble abode. You had graciously accepted, which meant you were now bunking in the room right next to Rafe's.

You had already retired to your room for the night, you weren't much of a partier anyways. It's not that you didn't enjoy them, just after so many hours of talking and meeting people, your social battery had run out. So, you excused yourself on the grounds of fatigue and working too much, and went to your room to change, and then ultimately, go to bed. You had just finished stripping down to your bra and undies-you liked sleeping with as little clothing as possible, it felt freeing-when there was a knock on your door. You sure as hell didn't feel like redressing, so you wrapped yourself in the small blanket that had been folded up at the end of the bed until now. You opened the door.

"Rafe?" you questioned. You didn't understand why he was knocking on your door this late at night, or at all, really. You two hadn't really talked, you had assumed it was because he thought he was above you. He had money and wealth, you didn't. You thought he had categorized you as poor and therefore he wouldn't waste his breath on you. Yet here he was, standing in front of you, hair disheveled and breathing heavily.

He pushed past you without a word, heading straight to the dresser in which all your clothes were in. He opened the top drawer, which was filled with your variety of undergarments, and began searching frantically for something. He started discarding the underwear on the floor, not even caring to form a pile, just tossing them aimlessly around.

"What the hell, Rafe!" You yelled. He had no right to be sifting through your shit, none the less your underwear. Some of the ones he pulled out he had eyed momentarily. You had to admit there were some pretty slutty pieces in there.

"I need cocaine," was all he said before yanking a wooden board from the drawer, and then a bag of white powder. "I hid it here, just in case."

He headed for the door again, but you blocked his exit.

"What are you doing, y/n," he said, exasperated.

"First of all, why would you hide it in my shit. If your parents found it, I'd be gone. Instantly. Second, you had zero right to be looking in my shit, hands fumbling MY underwear. Like, thanks, I have to wash them all now. And third, I didn't even give you permission to come in here!"You threw your hands up, anger coursing through your veins. You forgot the blanket was hiding your almost-naked body. The heat that had started to rise inside of you cooled immediately.

"Fuck," Rafe whispered as you scrambled to pull the blanket back around your body. You had nothing to say now. You stared at the ground in embarrassment because you had accidentally just flashed Rafe Cameron. Kook and Coke-Head King. You fucked up. He could report this right back to Rose and you'd have to kiss your internship goodbye. Seriously, your eyes did not leave your feet until he broke the silence.

"Let me do a line on your thigh," Rafe moaned, or at least, that's what it sounded like. Your eyes sprang up to meet his. His face was that of complete seriousness. He stepped a little closer and rested his hands on your hips.

"What?" was all you could manage. He did not just ask that. Like, this boy had never given you a second glance, and here he was, asking to snort the nasty, white powdery substance off your body. This couldn't be real. He had to be joking, to see if you'd fall for it. "No."