Been reading tumblr for literally half of my life and I think it’s about time I write on here! Most of my works will correlate to my wattpad fanfics, so check those out too!
summary: jade brings weed to a hook up sesh with steve, not expecting him to be so willing to try some.
or the first time jade gives steve head..
time setting: between s2 and s3, summer of ‘85
warnings: fluff, smut, ‘enemies’ with benefits dynamic, swearing, mentions of drugs, steve & jade get high, reckless driving, underage drug usage, semi-public oral (m!receiving), kinda sub!steve, pet names: sweetheart & baby, third person pov
word count: 7k
masterlist | wattpad
He’d called her as a last resort. At least, that’s what he likes to tell himself as he waits in his car, foot bouncing and every window rolled all the way down to disguise the suffocating smell of how much cologne he doused over his body.
He’d read something in a shitty magazine about how chicks dig nice smells, and in many cases it can be enough to form an attraction. So, he’d got up from his bed immediately and grabbed the nearest bottle, spraying it up and down every inch of his being. He even went as far to spritz his hair.
Again, he tells himself he’s testing it on Jade for future occasions, future girls. Because there will be future girls. Surely, right?
“Harrington!” A light shout carries through the trailer park as Jade practically skips towards his car. The way her hair is brushed messily behind her ears highlights the bright smile blown across her face.
As she reaches the passenger door and yanks it open, he’s gawking at her like she’s just admitted to first degree murder.
“Are you having a stroke? Why are you smiling so much?” He asks, body incredibly tense because it’s so peculiar to see her this bubbly in his presence.
Jade rolls her eyes, and she’s basically bouncing in the seat as she turns to him, “Because…” She brings a hand out from behind her back, clutching something from the back pocket of her jean shorts.
Steve’s confused eyes wander as she wiggles a plastic bag in the air. The furrow in his brow slowly loosens as he realises what it is — weed. And there he was for a second thinking she’d brought a present for him.
What a stupid fucking thought.
He huffs, glancing away as he switches his engine back to life and hides his disappointment by focusing on getting out of the trailer park, “Where’d you get that from?” He asks.
Still grinning like it’s the best day of her life, Jade slides a pack of off-brand blunt wraps from the other back pocket, and she carefully begins to lay them out on her lap, keeping her legs steady to counter the bumps in the roads.
“Eddie,” She hums in a reply.
His eyes snap momentarily to her, but she’s too distracted looking down to notice his gaze.
He’s heard her mention this Eddie before. Eddie Munson — her next door neighbour, weed supplier, who’s a very similar age to Steve but continues to be held back due to a complete lack of care for the school system.
Jade had once been telling a story of how she’d been skinny dipping in the trailer park’s ‘pool’ facilities which consists of a swimming pool the size of flatbed truck and are permanently below freezing whilst also being cleaned once a year, if that. In passing, as though it wasn’t important, Jade had included how Eddie had done a backflip into the water, nearly cracking his head against the pool floor and she’d never laughed so hard.
At the time, Steve brushed over it, until the night after when he was alone with his thoughts and he soon realised what she meant.
She was skinny dipping with Eddie.
He’s not jealous of this Eddie. How could he be? Steve doesn’t like Jade, and has no care for what she does in her own time. Which is why he never asked her about it, but it still eats at him more than he’ll ever admit.
“Oh, yeah, right. Eddie, of course.” He nods slowly, fingers tightening around the warm steering wheel, “Do you buy it from him? Or…”
She shakes her head, tapping the baggie to urge some of the product out onto the thick rolling paper, “No. It’s more a favour for a favour type of thing, I guess,” She laughs, “You think I have the money to pay for weed? I can’t even afford school lunch half the time.”
“A favour.” He repeats, lips pursing in curiosity as he tries to think of what she could have possibly done for this other boy, “What favour?”
“Oh… you know,” She mumbles, distracted completely by the intricate movements of her fingers.
His jaw hangs open, head snapping back and forth between the road and her, “No. No, I don’t know.”
“It’s hard to explain…” She murmurs, not paying any attention to the conversation as she brings the blunt up to her lips and drags her tongue across the edge carefully.
Out of the corner of his eye, he watches her with a frustrated gaze, the curiously now gnawing at his mind while she’s none the wiser. With a small portion of her tongue stuck out with concentration, Jade rolls the paper around the weed, completely unaffected by the rough jumps of the car.
Until she pauses her actions, fingers freezing and her eyes slowly lift to flick around the vehicle, nostrils twitching as she sniffs.
“What the hell is that smell?” She asks out of the blue, her tone now much clearer as her process of thought is dragged from the drugs in her hand.
“Smell?” His voice nearly cracks as he looks at her, knowing full well what that smell is, “There’s no smell. Actually, it’s probably that—“ He wags a finger to her lap, “Yeah, it’s that. That’s the smell.”
He can’t seem to remember what the magazine article told him to do once the girl clocked the scent. Is he supposed to admit to drowning himself in cologne, or should he act like this is what he always smells like?
She frowns, “No.”
“No?” He swallows thickly, “What else could it possibly be? That— It has to be—“
She swivels in her chair, hands lowering to rest on her thighs as she studies him carefully, “Are you wearing cologne, Harrington?”
His jaw twitches, “I always wear cologne.”
“Not this much cologne,” She says, “God, I can barely breathe in here. What scent even is that?”
He sucks his teeth, trying to duck his chin to smell his sweater in order to get a fresh sniff of the cologne, but he’s got so used to it by now that he can’t smell a thing.
“Brut,” He clears his throat, “Fabergé.”
She smirks, slowly returning to the blunt so she can seal it properly, “You really took the slogan of splash it all over to heart, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” He huffs, childishly turning his chin away from her as he checks his left mirror before turning.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Harrington,” She teases, “I just think we should get you a different cologne. A better scent, for sure.”
His head spins round too quick, “You don’t like this one?”
“I mean, I’ve smelt worse,” She shrugs, meeting his gaze, “But the fact that you’re suffocating me with it is quite off putting if I’m being honest.”
“Shit. Really?”
She nods, “I’m surprised your other chicks haven’t broken the bad news to you. It’s super overpowering, and not in, like, a sexy way.”
“You’re the first I’ve, uh, tried this with,” He grumbles, eyes glued to the road now as he has to suffer knowing he overdid it.
She laughs at his choice of words, not at all surprised that he didn’t jump to claiming there was no other chicks, “Oh, well, your lab rat is telling you to get a better one, and put less on next time. A lot less.”
His eyes widen in realisation, “Wait. Fuck, no— I didn’t mean that. You’re not— Shit.”
She waves him off casually, “Relax, Harrington. I don’t mind being your little experimentation project.” She smirks at him, but he’s able to tell its wavering before she hides it by motioning down to her lap, “You ever smoked weed? I can roll you one.”
“I— uh…” He takes a deep breath, deciding it’s safer to move on from the previous subject before he admits something he shouldn’t. He shrugs, “Yeah. I’ve had it once, with Tommy.”
“And?”
“I was already drunk off my head so… I just fell right asleep,” He explains, “Woke up rough and he made it very clear that I missed out on the best bits by being stoned, so…”
“Right,” She clicks her tongue, “That’s such a waste of weed.”
He nods, “Other than that, I’ve never cared for it. Tommy and Carol did it a lot— Well, you remember.”
“Hm. You always liked to think you were better than them…” She hums, remembering the multitude of times Tommy invited her around to supply and Steve would turn his nose up, “and me.”
“Yeah,” He admits quietly, “Yeah, I guess I did.”
“Well, King Steve,” She drawls, laying her head back against the rest and drooping it to the side so her eyes stare into his side profile, “You still think you’re better than me, or do you wanna let loose for a night?”
He scoffs through a low chuckle, “Thought we were gonna let loose tonight anyway, just... a different way.”
She rolls her eyes, “We can still do that, loser.”
“Yeah?”
“Uh-huh. You’ll get your fix. Don’t worry.”
He thinks about it for a moment, glances between her face and the array of products on her lap. He sees the rolled blunt between her fingers, and how she fiddles with it while waiting.
He meets her strong gaze, nodding, “Go on, then.”
Her eyes brighten at his words, and he wants to take a picture of the very moment to remind himself of how she can look when he makes her happy.
“You want to share mine, or shall I roll you a separate one?” She questions, straightening in her seat, hands hovering off the baggie.
Steve should know where his limit lies. Even though he’s not as experienced in this area, he is old enough to be aware of how strong weed can be. For some, a couple of puffs is enough. For others, with a higher tolerance perhaps, a whole blunt is only just capable.
He has zero-to-no tolerance, but it’d be embarrassing for him to admit that.
“Do me a new one,” He requests, keeping his eyes forward so he doesn’t see how her expression changes.
“If you black out, don’t you dare blame me, Harrington,” She says, already on with sliding out a fresh blunt wrap.
“Oh, I’m absolutely blaming you,” He smirks, “I mean, I’d find a way to blame you for my own death even if you had nothing to do with it.”
“Charming,” She hums, expecting nothing less. Whilst her fingers work, she nods her head outside, “Pull into somewhere quiet.”
Heart thumping against his chest in preparation, Steve does as he’s told and draws into an empty parking lot behind a closed hardware store to the east of town centre. The place is completely deserted, the asphalt cracked and dry from the day’s harsh sun.
He kills the engine and shifts in his seat to watch her in intrigue. Head ducked, her tongue lines the paper before she delicately rolls, doing it slightly quicker than she did with her own. She seals it before handing it over to him, and he can’t help but notice how it’s slightly smaller than hers, less packed.
“You rationing me?” He asks, “Seriously?”
“I’ve seen people pass out from smoking half of that, Harrington,” She explains, packing up the papers and the baggie before switching it out for her lighter, “I have no idea how sensitive to it you are. I hate you, sure. But not enough to bake your mind to death.”
He rolls his eyes, fingers sliding up down the thick roll as he examines it, “You’re being dramatic. You don’t need to worry ‘bout me, Grady.”
She glances at him while clicking her lighter on, “Who said I was worried about you? It’s me who’ll be in the shit if anything happens to you.” She slots the blunt between her lips and lets the flame flicker over the end.
He purses his lips, “Your selflessness is really amazing.”
“Just shut up,” She grumbles around the blunt, a small gasp of smoke slipping past her lips as she leans over to him.
Once he’s situated it in his mouth, she lights it — the flame briefly illuminating their faces in the dimming car.
He’s used to smoking cigarettes, so the first inhale isn’t too hard, and the taste is just as he remembers. He keeps his expression completely neutral when he exhales, leaning back like it’s nothing.
Jade watches him with a smirk as he immediately goes for another drag, “Don’t get too cocky.”
“Me? Cocky?” He scoffs, “Never.”
——
About thirty minutes later, Steve is beyond fucked.
He’s staring very intensely at the dashboard like it’s personal offended him, and he seems completely unbothered by the single strand of his hair that the wind has pushed out of place to hang down between his brows.
Jade is leaning back in her seat against the passenger door, one leg tucked under her and she’s clearly handling this miles better than he ever could.
Her blunt is pinched in the air by her face, while his is resting in his hand that’s limp on his lap. She’s tried multiple times to remove it from him before his grip slips and it burns him, but he’s shook her away each time, only helping to grow her amusement.
“Oh,” She laughs, watching as he blinks incredibly slowly, like his eyelids wear five tons. His pupils are slightly smaller with the white around his iris developing a red hue as though he’s itched at them for hours on end, “You’re so gone, Harrington.”
“M’not,” He grumbles, “M’right here.”
“You look like you’re trying to solve an imaginary math problem,” She teases, “Which couldn’t be any more unlike you.”
He swallows thickly, “I feel a little weird.”
She hums, “You are weird.”
He rotates his head slowly in her direction and she has to refrain from giggling more at his state, “You’re enjoying this… way too much.”
“Yep,” She grins, reaching to have and snipping the blunt away from him before he even has time to think about reacting, “But as much as I am enjoying this, I think you’ve had enough tonight.”
Once he’s finally clocked what she’s done, Jade is already disposing of it in the car’s cigarette tray, and he watches with slightly pouted lips.
“Thought this was what you wanted,” He says.
She looks at him knowingly — not once did she pressure him into this. He made the choice to smoke it, made the choice to have several drags, made the stubborn choice to refuse to stub it out. All while she warned him to be careful.
The gleam in her eye is enough of a reply and Steve just nods shamefully, rolling his lips as he tries to think of another excuse for his high state, but he’s incapable to think of much of anything.
Jade smiles faintly, positively surprised by his relaxed demeanour, but there’s a low pit forming in her stomach of guilt because he should be experiencing the joys of being high, not the dullness of being stoned.
Searching for a solution, her eyes scan their surroundings. Over the empty parking lot, the ombré sunset on the far horizon, the decaying hardware store. After deciding that the outside is probably not a good idea when he can barely blink normally, she studies the BMW’s interior.
Her eyes land on the steering wheel last, and the idea swims into her head and the drugs swimming around her system convince her that it’s the perfect idea.
“Hey, Harrington,” She speaks up, elbow dropping to the centre console with her chin propped in her hand as she beams at him.
He looks back over instantly, heartbeat increasing the minute he realises how much closer she is, “Hm?”
She lowers her tone to just above a whisper, making her next request seem more enticing and secretive so there’s a greater chance of him agreeing before he’s really heard her, “…Let me drive.”
But he apparent has no problem computing those words as he aggressively shakes his head, hair jumping from the movements, “No. No way.”
She tilts her head, “Come on.”
“No.”
“Steve…” She draws out his first name, trying to sound all the more convincing.
“No. Absolutely not,” He huffs and the weed seems to have given him an increased confidence as he refuses to break their eye contact, “This is my car. For me to drive.”
“Just around the parking lot,” She grins.
He glares at her, genuinely offended, “She’s my baby, Grady. I’m not letting you anywhere near the wheel.”
Her brows raise in a challenge, “You let me near the wheel when I’m on your lap riding your—“
“That’s different!” He cuts in, voice jumping up a pitch, “We’re stationary then. Neutral. Not moving. Safe. Distracted by other things. She—“ He rubs the top of the wheel, “—needs tender love and care, alright?”
“It’s a car, Harrington.”
“Yeah. My car. My precious car.”
She sits back, “It’ll cheer you up.”
“I’m already cheery,” He grumbles.
Laughing, Jade reaches across to snap the sun shade down from the roof, revealing his reflection in the small mirror, “Is that what cheery Steve Harrington looks like?” She questions.
He frowns at himself before hitting the sun visor away in a grump, “I still don’t see how you nearly killing us will improve my mood. If anything, it’ll actually just ruin my whole—“
“Let me try. Switch with me.”
Before he can argue again, she’s already climbing over the centre console before he can stop her, one hand on the back of his seat and the other braced on the dashboard while she awkwardly clambers over him.
For about five seconds they’re way too close, breath mingling with her knee pressed against his thigh and her hair falling forward as Steve completely forgets what he was about to say.
Trying to blink out of the further haze he’s being thrust into, he eventually manages to slide over into the passenger seat whilst she drops into his seat like she owns it.
The sight alone is enough to shorten his breath.
He points at the gear stick, noticing how his fingers shake, “It’s manual.”
“Like every other car ever,” She hums, settling into the seat comfortably.
“Just— Clutch first, then—“
“Harrington,” She looks at him flatly, “I can drive.”
His lips part for him to continue his ramble, but she cuts him short as she twists the keys in the ignition, rumbling the engine to life in the quiet parking lot.
She doesn’t even give it a minute to sit or warm before she’s immediately pulling out, turning sharply and accelerating across the lot, making the tires squeal against the hot asphalt.
A yell of fear erupts from Steve and he braces back in his seat, hand curling around the door handle, “Grady! Woah, woah—“
“Relax!” She laughs as she swings the car around in a wide circle, smoke huffing out of the exhaust before she swiftly switches the gear.
One of her hand moves from the wheel, nudging the radio on and her mood brightens even more as she hears the beginning notes to Rockin’ All Over The World by Status Quo.
“Oh my god,” She cheers, spinning the volume wheel up to its highest, “I love this song.”
“Uh-huh,” Steve squeaks out, knuckles whitening as the wind flies through the open window and brushes against his face, giving him a small relief, “Me— Me too.”
As the music thuds against the car’s speakers, he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, feeling the vehicle rotate. It straightens when she changes to driving around the patches of grass instead which are inconveniently lined by high curbs.
His eyes shoot open, and his jabbing a finger out towards the windscreen, “You’re too close to the curb!”
“I am not!” She rolls her eyes, glancing over to see him with his face mushed against the window as he tries to watch where the wheels of his car are.
“You are!” He shouts, index finger nudging against the glass, “That’s a curb! Right there! That’s my tire near that curb!” He straightens again, one hand dragging through his hair while the other drops to grip his tense thigh.
Jade’s laughing the entire time, body moving to the deep beats of the song as she sings the lyrics. Her eyes are bright and bloodshot from the weed while her hair falls out of place from behind her ears. She spins the wheel again, looping around the parking lot.
Steve should be terrified. He kind of is.
Then something weird happens.
His head snaps to look at her and everything feels like it slows down a little. The fear in him dwindles fast, replaced by a deep admiration.
Everything about her in this moment has him nearly forgetting his own name; the way she’s grinning, how she’s leaning forward over the wheel, the fact that the tip of her tongue sticks out from her lips as she concentrates each time they make a sharp turn. She looks completely carefree, like nothing in the world matters except this moment in this stupid parking lot with a car that isn’t even hers.
He just watches her with his brain feeling slow, floaty and warm. All he can think about is that she looks really, really happy right now.
And he loves it. A lot. And high Steve loves it even more than normal Steve would ever allow himself to feel.
The minute he lets his eyes wander from her face he’s even more finished. She’s in a loose t-shirt, and he knows from experience that she has no bra on— well, he can see that she doesn’t as she dances in the car seat. Her bare thighs are pushed together against the leather and all he can imagine is how amazing it’d feel to be wedged between them.
The crotch of his levi jeans gets tighter the longer he stares, but he’s far too enamoured by her to care about the boiling desire rippling through his body.
“—ington? Steve!” She calls, snapping her fingers an inch from his nose.
It takes a minute for his brain to process and he blinks, snapping his eyes away from her legs back to her face.
It’s then when he realises that they’re no longer moving. The car is completely stationary. Engine still rumbling but tires not turning. Even the volume of the radio has been lowered.
He hadn’t even noticed.
He looks around for a short moment before returning to gawk at her face, “We’ve stopped moving.”
She nods slowly, “Sure have. You stopped screaming like a little girl so I thought for a minute you’d passed out.”
“Oh, right, yeah,” He clears his throat, one hand squeezing his thigh to try and distract him from the throb between his legs, “Sorry. I just— It’s the, uh…” He waves his other hand to his head, “…the weed, I think. Made me zone out.”
Jade smirks, seeing right through him like she’s known him his entire life. She swivels her body towards him, eyes dragging up and down his form, noticing his tensed muscles.
He’s refusing to look at her, especially when he knows that she’s looking directly at the bulge in his jeans. All he can do is awkwardly shuffle, the weed causing any of his usual excuses for a boner to disappear from his mind.
“Did the weed do that too?” She asks quietly, and when he finally forces himself to meet her gaze, she’s already reaching across to run her hand over his aching crotch after she’s switched the engine off completely.
“Oh— Fuck…” He’s unable to prevent the way a moan rattles out from his mouth and how his hips instinctively push up against her palm, “Yeah,” He breathes shakily, squeezing his eyes shut, “The weed, yeah. Jesus… I’ve never felt like this before. What— What did you put in it, Grady?”
“I didn’t put a thing in it, Harrington,” She hums, hand continuing to softly rub him through his jeans, “This is just you reacting to it.”
“I feel like…” He whimpers, fingers curling around the door handle, “…a school boy having a hard-on for the first time.”
“Mhm. This is normal apparently.” Jade mumbles, leaning further over the centre console to pepper kisses along his exposed neck as he pushes his head back against the rest.
“Yeah?” He tugs on his bottom lip before opening his eyes, one of his hand raising to cup her cheek and pull her away so he can see her face properly, “Wait… How— How do you know that?”
Her hand pauses on his jeans, as she shrugs lightly, “Eddie.”
His lips part in disbelief, his thumb mindlessly tracing her bottom lip, “Eddie?”
“You seem horrified every time I mention him,” She smirks, eyes wandering all over his face, examining the small tell-tale signs in his expression that show he’s jealous.
“I don’t care about Eddie,” He argues, pulling her closer until his lips brush hers, “Especially not right now.”
“Hm.” She smirks, tightening her grip once more over his bulge and she carefully watches as he shivers, a moan mingling with her own breath. “Shall I help you out, or should we talk about your little jealousy issue instead?”
He shakes his head weakly, “The first one,” The words are quiet and shaky, like all of his energy is going into not finishing in his pants, “Definitely the first option.”
She hums knowingly, fingers delicately traveling to the zip of his jeans and tugging it down. Her movements are so slow that Steve bucks his hips just to feel some extra friction, but his attempt only makes her teasing worse.
Steve tilts his head back, blinking up at the grey ceiling of the car as he waits tensely for her to crawl over onto his lap like she always does. He even spreads his thighs slightly to give her enough comfort and to widen the space for her body to rest upon.
His mind nearly short circuits when she slowly takes his twitching cock from his boxers, and instead of clambering across to ride him, she runs her hand up and down his length at an agonisingly slow pace.
“Grady… C’mon, don’t—“ He huffs, lowering his chin to berate her for the teasing.
His words get lost between them as he watches her situate carefully before leaning her face down to his dick, licking her lips with one hand on his thigh and the other holding the base of his cock.
“Woah, woah, woah,” He rambles, hand shooting out to gently grabbing the back of her neck and tilt it so she’s looking up at him, “What are you… I— You don’t have to. Seriously. I’d never ask or— or expect you to do that for me.”
She hums in understanding, eyelashes fluttering as the ends of her lips lift, “You don’t have to ask. I want to.”
“Really?” He squeaks out, relaxing the grip on the back of her neck, allowing her to turn back to his cock, “Yeah, okay. Holy… shit,” He exhales shakily when she spits on him, her soft hands rubbing the saliva up and down.
When she eventually closes her mouth over the head, he can’t contain the little that is left of his dignity.
A hand flies to the back of her head, his fingers weaving through her hair. There’s no pulling or pushing as of yet, just him holding her in an attempt to stop himself coming right then.
A strong sense of pride fills Jade as she takes him deeper, her tongue laid flat against the underside and feeling each throbbing vein. Her jaw relaxes like she’s done this before, like she knows exactly what he needs.
As she hums around him, Steve finally allows himself to breathe and it escapes him with a cracked moan.
“Jesus christ…” He whimpers when she begins to bob up and down, saliva coating his cock, “Feels so so good.”
Jade really wishes they weren’t in his car but instead laid out on a bed so she could watch him come undone and no doubt tease him with her eyes. For now she’ll just have to deal with only hearing him.
She focuses on drawing more sounds out of him, sinking deeper until his flushed tip hits the back of her throat and she curls her hand around the area she can’t reach near the base.
His fingers tighten in her hair and his thigh tenses up beneath her other hand as he restrains himself from bucking up into her mouth.
“Oh, fuck… me,” He moans, his eyelids feeling heavy from the drugs still pumping through his system but he fights them, wanting to watch her, “Jade, shit. You’re gonna make me… cum, sweetheart.”
If Jade wasn’t so preoccupied, she’d be smirking at him right now, but instead she takes to humming around him and the vibrations rattle straight through his body, making him jerk under her.
“Grady, seriously…” He breathes in short pants, fingertips tensing against her scalp, “You gotta stop so I can help you out too.”
She increases her pace, causing a few quiet gags to roll around his cock before she pulls back, lips brushing his sensitive tip.
“I don’t need anything,” She mumbles, tilting her head to gaze up at him and he swallows thickly upon seeing her face and the saliva down her chin, “Cum in my mouth, Harrington,” She slowly drags her tongue down the shaft, “Know you want to.”
“Course I fucking do but—“ A low groan rumbles from his chest as she drops right back down without letting him finish, all of him now inside her warm mouth and between her soft lips, “Fuuuck. You’re… so good at… that. Your mouth takes my cock so well, sweetheart.”
Steve feels like he’s died and gone to heaven. He’s not in a shitty Hawkins parking lot anymore. This feels too good for him to be stuck here. The way she’s taking him so deep and so effortlessly is having him feeling as though he’s ascending into the sky, and it only gets better as her tongue flicks over the base.
His heart is thudding against his chest at a rate that is surely unsafe and he’s whimpering like he never has before, lip quivering as his mind struggles to process the severe amount of pleasure.
Before he’s even able to realise it, the hand at the back of her head has begun gently moving her up and down. Not enough to take the control from her completely, but just enough to stop him from feeling too useless.
“J—Jade…” He moans, feeling how his gut twists and his abs flex, eyes beginning to roll back, “I’m gonna— Shit. I’m coming, baby.”
Jade pulls back slightly and secures her lips around the end as he spills onto her tongue while Steve chokes on his moans, and he’s being so loud it’d be no surprise if someone across the street heard through the open car windows.
As his release begins to escape where her lips meet his shaft, Jade swallows around him, her own eyes closing as she relishes in his pleasure.
The action only has him shuddering again, “Oh my… god.” He curses lowly, never having come so hard.
Jade slowly draws away, hand giving his cock a couple more strokes before she straightens, licking her lips. She gazes over at Steve only to see him gawking at her like she’s a real life angel come to bless him. His chest is pumping up and down and laboured breathes continue to escape his open mouth as he lets his tense muscles relax.
She smirks, subtly noticing how the weed still has an effect on him, “That okay for you, Harrington?”
“Was that okay for—“ He splutters in disbelief, lips slick with drool he hasn’t bothered to lick away yet, “That was… more than okay. It was… fucking amazing.”
She hums softly, admiring how completely undone he seems in the passenger seat of his own car, “I’m glad.”
“Why have— Why have we never done that before?” He pants, still staring at her like she’s about to perform a holy miracle, “We need to do that more. A lot more, actually.”
She rolls her eyes, brushing her hands back through her messy hair, “Weed makes you desperately horny. Good to know.”
When she turns her gaze away from him to look at her own reflection in the rearview mirror, Steve groans quietly, tucking himself back up in his jeans before dragging his still-shaking hands down his face and back through his tousled hair.
She laughs quietly, giving him a sideway glance as she asks, “You gonna be okay to drive us home?”
“Home?” His voice almost breaks as his eyes snap to her, “Who said we’re going home? I still wanna return the favour, Grady.”
Smiling faintly, Jade says, “Not here you’re not.”
Then she nods her head to the windscreen and he follows the direction, heart dropping when he spots a group of kids playing on a grass verge at the end of the parking lot.
“When— fuck, when did they get there?” He asks, sitting up quickly and blowing his hair out of his face while rubbing his sweaty palms on his thighs.
“Relax,” She snorts, “Like, two minutes ago.”
“Who are they?” He rambles, sitting forward and squinting his eyes across the dark expanse, “They’re not our kids, are they?”
“No, they’re not our kids,” She reassures him.
“Good, good,” He sits back, shoulders sagging with his breath still laboured, “I— I can’t deal with those little shits right now.”
Giggling quietly to herself about him, Jade simply turns the key in the ignition, firing the engine to life and causing the to rumble beneath them. Steve looks over at her quickly, lips already parting for an argument, but as she slowly sets off in a much calmer nature than how she previously handled his car, he gives up and settles back further, taking advantage of being driven somewhere for once.
Although his mind may be hesitant to believe it, he trusts her with his car, with his life, with pretty much everything.
“Where we going?” He asks quietly, heart thudding against his ribcage despite how the weed is making him gradually relax.
“Yours or mine,” She shrugs, casually turning the well to pull out of the parking lot like she’s driven his car a thousand times, “Up to you.”
“Up to me…” He repeats aloud by accident but makes no effort to care as he watches her with his lids drooping and lips agape, “Yours. I like yours.”
Jade’s brows twitch at that, but her heart also warms with the knowledge too. He likes her place over his own? He prefers the dingy little trailer over his huge three-bathroom house?
“Okay,” She says quietly, knowing it’s no use asking why now when he’s so high, “Are you just gonna collapse on my bed and go straight to sleep?”
“Noooo,” He shakes his head, over exaggerating the movements because he thinks it makes his words more truthful, “M’gonna make you feel good first.”
Jade turns her face away from him to hide the smile and the blush blooming across her face, “Okay, Harrington.” She tries to huff it out, like she’s frustrated, but instead it sounds the complete opposite.
Because he can no longer see her face, Steve turns away too, chin dropping to his palm as he gazes out of the window into the night — the sunset long forgotten.
His eyes droop and shut before his brain can tell them not to.
——
The next time his eyelids open, Steve is strewn across a comfortable mattress, a thin blanket over his clothed body. He blinks, before wincing when a beam of sun hits his pupils and he turns his face away from the harsh light.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” A teasing voice speaks from the corner of the room, “Nice to know you’re actually alive.”
He slowly peels his eyes open once more, face already pulled up into a confused frown as he finally takes in his surroundings — the posters, the messy floor, the patchwork bed covers.
It’s unmistakably Jade’s bedroom.
Jade’s sat on a small stool by a makeshift desk, one leg pulled up to her chest while she tugs her walkman headphones off and clicks the music to a stop.
Compared to how Steve feels, Jade looks quite the opposite; refreshed and wide awake. Her hair’s in two plaits and she’s in a completely different set of clothes. A white tank top and a pair of pyjama pants.
Steve groans the minute his head begins to ache, and he slowly sits up, body swaying from the disorienting movement, “What…” He yawns, looking to her window where the curtains are drawn but the morning sun is very clearly beating through them.
Jade snorts at how he looks with his hair stood up at odd angles and the back completely flattened. One of his jeans legs is also halfway up his calf, and he only has one sock still on, the other sitting in his trainers at the end of her bed.
He swallows thickly, starting to stare at a blank spot in her floor as he takes a moment to process everything, “I feel like shit,” He grumbles.
“Mhm,” She hums, nodding as she unhooks her headphones from around her neck and places the walkman on the desk, “That’s what happens when you don’t listen to me and smoke too much weed.”
It all comes back to Steve then. The weed. The driving. The most mind obliterating head he’s ever had.
“Jesus christ,” He mutters to himself before looking to her, “How long have I been sleeping for?”
“Well, you’ve had a good, I’d say…” She purses her lips, briefly glancing the clock beside her, “…nine hours.”
His eyes widen, “Nine hours? Nine whole hours?”
She smirks, nodding, “Right there in my bed, taking up all the space so I had to sleep on the floor.”
“You didn’t,” His jaw drops and suddenly he feels extremely ashamed, “Shit, Grady. I’m sorry—“
She waves him off, “I’m just joking. I just had to sleep in a ball next to you, which is totally fine. I mean, you clearly needed those nine hours.”
He shuffles, sliding over so his legs drop over the edge of the bed and he can push his feet into the floor, “How did I even get in here?”
“You crawled in,” She explains, “You were half asleep and I had to push you most of the way from your car to my mattress, but eventually we managed. You sparked out before I was even inside.”
Steve sighs heavily, letting his upper body drop back agaisnt the bed, arms laid limply beside him because it all seems to much work to move anymore limbs.
“I don’t want weed ever again.”
Jade stands, rolling her eyes, “You liked it at the time.”
“Well, yeah, obviously,” He drawls, “What wasn’t there to dislike? But— but this feeling right now… ugh. Just no— no thanks.”
She places a hand on her hip, watching as he stares at her ceiling in hopes that it might crush him and rid him of the hungover feeling.
“You want some food?” She asks, knowing the first thing she wanted when she woke up this morning was something to eat.
He nods, trying to strain his neck and look at her, “Oh my god, yes. I feel like I’ve been starved.”
“Okay, now you’re being dramatic,” She snorts, stepping to her door and pulling it open before glancing back, “What do you want?”
“Anything,” He mumbles, “Absolutely anything,” He watches as she moves out into the trailer hallway, “I’ll just… stay here… Yeah, right here.”
“Yep, you do that.” She nods, gradually shutting her door and leaving it open a few inches. Thankful that her home is stress free and quiet for once with Mitchell at Wayne’s and Jackson at Will’s.
Jade can’t fight the happy feeling that pushes a smile across her cheeks as she wanders to the kitchen, where the summer sun is cascading inside and the heat is just perfect as a nice breeze flows through the cracked windows.
For a change, she’s woken up in her bed next to Steve Harrington and not wanted to immediately send him away, or be rude to him until he makes the decision to leave himself.
Honestly, she’d watched him sleep for a few hours both last night and this morning, noticing his small quirks, like how his brows twitch when he dreams and that his fingers instinctively tighten around whatever blanket is over him. Not only that, but she’d also started to count the small moles decorating his skin until she decided that was maybe a bit too intimate.
She’d chosen to play her music this morning through her walkman instead via her record player because she wanted him to remain asleep and tucked up in her bed.
She wanted him to stay.
His presence never failing to add a softer, lighter feeling to her life.
summary: steve forces himself to attend a house party in order to prove that he’s not a total loser, whilst jade goes to make some quick cash. it’s a shame they can’t be in the same room without the tension between them boiling over.
time setting: between s2 & s3 , early (March) 1985
warnings: ‘enemies’ with benefits dynamic, swearing, arguments, angst?, violence - steve punches someone (successfully), a boy touches jade’s waist, overprotective steve, mentions of drugs (weed) & alcohol, tommy h. and carol, jealousy.
word count: 5.6k
.⋆♱ masterlist || static on wattpad
Tommy Hagan’s house looks different from the outside than Steve remembers.
The driveway is already full when he pulls up, leaving cars to line both sides of the street and spill halfway onto the front lawn, no doubt driving the neighbours mad. The windows glow with warm orange light as silhouettes move inside, and every time the front door opens a burst of noise and laughter spills out into the cool air.
For a moment, Steve finds himself unable to get out as he mentally prepares.
He sits in his car with the engine running and fingertips tapping lightly agaisnt the steering wheel whilst watching groups of people wander up the driveway with cans of beer and stacks of red cups in hands.
Some of them he recognises vaguely from school. Some of them he doesn’t.
15 months ago, he would’ve walked in without thinking, or batting an eye at anyone around him.
15 months ago, this would’ve been easy.
Someone would’ve spotted his car from the window and shouted his name before he’d even had the chance to turn the engine off. Someone would’ve already cracked open a beer for him, or set the keg up so he could beat his own record. The music would’ve gotten louder when he stepped into the room, people shifting automatically to make space.
King fucking Steve.
The title feels ridiculously stupid now.
Still, he steps out of the car and smooths a hand over the front of his jacket. The March night air is chilly against his face as he heads toward the house. He tells himself it’s fine, but his feet subconsciously drag along the gravel path, trying to prolong his arrival.
He’s just going to show up, hang out, remind people that he’s still the same guy he was before everything changed. That’s all this is.
The smell of cheap beer and cigarette smoke ravels around him instantly as he pushes through the front door, and it’s painfully familiar.
The living room is packed and the couch is shoved agaisnt the back wall to make space for a dance floor where bodies now move under dim lights while music blasts from the stereo that looks far too old to accommodate such a harsh volume.
Steve pauses just inside the doorway and scans the room slowly.
A couple of people glance his way, but only to acknowledge a new presence, rather the fact that it’s him.
Most of the others don’t even bother.
The shift is subtle, but he feels it immediately. No one’s shouting his name, dragging him further in. There’s no sudden excitement about him being there.
He can yet work out if he’s sad about the change, or grateful.
Then, a familiar voice cuts through the noise.
“Well, this sure is a surprise.”
Steve turns his head slowly.
Tommy H. is leant agaisnt the kitchen counter with a beer in his hand, his grin already halfway to mocking. Like always, Carol is standing beside him with her arms folded, watching Steve’s gradual approach like she’s waiting for a bus.
She tilts her head, studying him, “Didn’t think we’d see you here, like, ever again.”
Steve forces a small smile of greeting and it’s miles away from reaching his eyes, “Hey, guys.”
“Yeah, man,” Tommy snorts, “You’ve basically been in hiding since you and Wheeler imploded.”
Carol raises an eyebrow, the topic entertaining her cruelness, “How long has is it been, now? What… five months? Six?”
Steve shrugs carelessly, eyes already scanning the countertop for any form of liquid that looks uncontaminated, “Uh… yeah, sure. Something like that.”
Tommy watches him, clearly expecting more of a reaction. When it’s clear there won’t be one, he snatches a can from a pack and shoves it into Steve’s chest. “I still can’t believe she dumped you, dude. We all for sure thought it’d be the other way round.”
Taking the can with a nod of appreciation, Steve exhales quietly and stares down at the tin top like it’s going to supply him with an escape.
This is his fault. He didn’t have to come.
“It wasn’t exactly like that,” He mutters.
“Oh… really?” Carol’s lips purse, leaning forward to garb her cup from the side, “Because from what everyone said, she ran off with the Byers freak. Her stalker, of all people.”
The reminder stings much more than Steve wants it to, but he manages to keep his expression neutral.
He cracks the can open, “I’m sure she had her reasons.”
Tommy huffs, “Still weird seeing you so single. Thought you two were gonna be like… the forever Hawkins power couple or whatever.”
Steve lets out a short laugh, like the chance of that ever happening was impossible, “Guess not.” He says.
Relaxing further into her boyfriend’s side whilst taking a slow sip of her drink, Carol’s eyes roam Steve’s expression carefully. She’s trying to figure out if the breakup actually bothers him more than he’s letting on.
But Steve straightens and rolls his shoulders before she can say anything else.
“Anyway,” He mumbles, glancing back around the party, “that was five months ago. Ancient history.”
“Yeah,” Tommy grunts, “Just the kinda ancient history that made you go ape-shit on your only friends.”
Steve winces, “Look, man—“
“No, no,” Tommy shakes his head, hand waving between them in dismissal, “We’re more or less grown now. I don’t care that you got pissy after Byers beat the shit out of you. We aren’t friends, and that’s that.”
“Glad you came tonight though, Steve,” Carol hums faintly, reaching forward to knock his arm.
“Mhm,” Steve coughs roughly to shield his discomfort, “Me too.”
He takes a long sip from the can, angling his body away from them slightly, allowing the couple to talk amongst themselves for a moment whilst he leans back against the kitchen counter and looks back out at the bustling crowd.
He stays because leaving would make the fact that he’s nothing like King Steve anymore too obvious.
Across the house, Jade stands by the back kitchen doorway facing the garden with a small plastic bag tucked into the pocket of her leather jacket and a zippo spinning lazily between her fingers.
She’s not here to party, obviously. She’s only here to sell, make a few extra dollars to support herself. She had bothered Eddie for two hours the night before, asking for his last stack, and eventually the boy caved, giving her enough to sell.
This is just a few quick deals, a little extra cash in her pocket, and then she plans to disappear before things get messy, or before any of these people drive her up the wall.
But the music is loud and surprisingly not awful, the house is warm, and the thought of going back to the trailer at all tonight doesn’t feel at all appealing. Mitch was already drinking before she even left earlier, and Hopper has been hovering around more than usual lately, asking questions she’ll never feel like answering.
So she stays.
A couple of seniors brush past her casually, slipping the cash into her palm, exchanging it for the bag. It’s smooth, effortless. Barely illegal.
She tucks the money into the back pocket of her jeans before spinning around to venture further into the house, maybe even to find an alcoholic drink to pass the time.
She freezes before taking another step.
Steve’s across the room, leaning against the counter with Tommy and Carol like nothing has ever changed. Like the last however long didn’t happen. Like he hasn’t spent half his nights climbing through her window, or driving her around Hawkins until she eventually rides him to the point of pleasurable tears.
Seeing the three of them laughing together after so long is a sickening sight, transporting her right back to her junior year, when Tommy would bother her, and Steve would peer over her shoulder in math.
The vision takes her right back to when Steve Harrington was nothing but a cruel bully.
Almost as though he senses her, Steve’s head turns towards the garden door and their eyes meet for only half a second.
Steve’s looking away before he’s even had time to fully process her. He just turns his back like she isn’t even there.
Her eyebrows lift slowly and she sucks her teeth. A part of her is shocked, but there’s another portion that isn’t at all surprised. A bit of her believes this was always inevitable. Maybe he’s just doomed to be a bully, or to hang around with Tommy H. for the rest of his life.
Maybe this is just who he is.
Scoffing beneath her breath, Jade shimmies through into the living room, not sparing that boy one more glance before she’s dropping down onto the crumbling brown sofa and snatching a random filled cup from the coffee table to drown her sorrows.
Tommy notices her too and he smirks instantly, “Look who showed up.” He says.
Steve’s stomach tightens as he glances over again, acting like he has no clue who Tommy’s referencing.
Jade is sat in the middle of the sofa, one leg crossed over the other and a solo cup balancing on her thigh whilst her foot weakly kicks the table leg. She’s wearing the same bored expression she always uses when she’s pretending not to care about anything happening around her.
Carol wrinkles her nose slightly, and she makes absolutely no effort to hide the direct glare, “Did you invite her so she’d sell?”
Tommy nods, “Obviously. She’s cheap. Hargrove’s gonna be pissed he missed it, though. Well, missed her.”
Steve frowns, dragging his eyes away to look at him, “What do you mean?”
“You didn’t hear?” Tommy grins, “Billy’s got a thing for her, man. Has done since, like, before Tina’s Halloween party last year.”
Carol barks out a laugh, the small slither of information never seizing to amaze her, “God, it’s so weird, though,” She says, “Like… her?”
Steve doesn’t respond, his mind short circuiting and eyes blurring for a moment as he rotates to look at Jade once more as if looking at her will give him all the answers, the truth.
His chest is twisting painfully. He’s not sure why. Hargrove is Hargrove. A dirty girl-hungry boy. It’s really no surprise that he wants Jade, if anything it would be a surprise if he didn’t.
When Jade glances toward him again, he deliberately turns away. Purposefully cold and distant, like she means nothing to him. Like he was just crowd-watching and she happened to fall into his eyesight but was too boring to watch for any amount of time.
Jade notices the dismissal immediately, and it generates the sort of sharp pain in her chest that she’ll never admit to.
The second he looks away from her like that, irritation sparks in her chest, and the alcohol buzzing lightly through her system doesn’t help.
Fine. If this is how he wants to play. That’s cool.
She downs the remnants of the drink in her hand without a second thought. Whatever liquid she’s just consumed was very strong. Definitely not the lame punch Tommy provides. Maybe vodka that someone else has a upplied. Either way, it sends a shiver through her body that riles up her confidence and helps her forget about everything.
After a second of blinking through the alcohol’s sting, Jade pushes from the decrepit couch and heads straight for the bottle stood on the mantelpiece above the cold fireplace.
“Pretty sure that’s mine,” A voice speaks from beside her.
She brushes a strand of hair out of her peripheral so she can see whose drinks she’s stealing.
It’s a guy she vaguely recognises from the basketball team. He’s called something like Dan or David. But his last name is definitely Parker, because the entire Parker family are all distinctively ginger and popular.
The boy in front of her is relatively skinny, perfect for basketball, and his head’s shaved like he’s planning on joining the army tomorrow. It’s probably a personal choice, but a bad one nonetheless.
She nods at him, returning to pouring out herself a drink that consists of far too much alcohol, “You should know better than to leave it unattended somewhere like this.”
He watches her carefully with his lips pulled up in an impressed smirk, clearly unbothered by her using his drink. “Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have hot girls like yourself stealing it.”
Jade snorts at his lame pickup line, and she takes a small sip before leaning against the mantelpiece to face him completely.
He’s stood closer than she originally thought, with one of his arms lifted to help him rest against the wall whilst the other hand is tapping his thigh to the music.
“Name’s David,” He greets, extending the hand out to her.
She shakes it slowly, eyebrows raising at his very old-school flirting techniques, but she can’t say she minds them. “That’s nice.”
Instead of being put off, he seems entertained by her attitude. His body shifts even closer to hers, their tips of his sneakers brushing her boots.
His voice lowers slightly over the music, “You’re funny.”
“Not trying to be,” She smiles, shrugging loosely, taking another sip in an attempt to forget what she’s doing right now.
He studies her for a second, returning her soft grin, “Jade, right?”
She nods slowly, expression dying subtly, “Yeah.”
His eyes widen, “Shit, sorry. That sounded creepy. I— Fuck. I’ve just seen you ‘round school, is all,” He scrambles, groaning at himself, “With Byers. Sorry, I didn’t mean for that to sound so fucked up. I’m not… stalking you.”
She chuckles, “Well, thank you for the clarification.”
He squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to erase his last few words but when he knows nothing can be done, he resorts to looking at her once more and sighing heavily.
“What are you, uh, doing here tonight? I’ve never seen you at one of these before,” He says before his eyebrows shoot up, “Jesus christ— Was that worse?”
Jade laughs, “You’re the only one looking too deep into it, dude.”
“I am? Okay. Good. Good.”
“I’m here to just, you know…” She motions around and to the slowly depleting drink in her hand.
He nod slowly, clearly amused and somewhat grateful that he’s not the only one making this interesting. “You’re different.” He acknowledges.
She peers back at him with slightly furrowed brows before she hums in agreement, “So are you.”
And with that, the two of them go off on a many conversational tangents about everything under the sun. Jade acutely takes note of how he shuffles closer at each given opportunity, but she also makes no choice to move away.
A few times, her head turns over her shoulder as she gazes around the room towards the kitchen casually. Steve is still with Tommy and Carol. The trio are talking louder now, growing more comfortable with one another after so long. Acting more and more like they used to do.
Steve continues to pretend like she doesn’t exist, and not once does she catch him looking like she wishes.
Her eyes wander back over to David, studying him a little more closely. He’s not awful looking. Confident, but not overly cocky. Relaxed and slightly funny. Not immediately annoying like everyone else seems to be here.
Maybe she can tolerate him for a while longer.
“Are you in my year at school?” She asks, now onto pouring herself a third drink.
He hits, “No. I was supposed to graduate last year.”
Her brows raise, and she offers him the bottle but he shakes his head so she sets it back down before turning to him properly, “Supposed to?”
“Basketball injury,” He motions weakly down to his leg, “Missed too many classes. Got held back.”
“You’re repeating senior year?” She winces, the idea of doing it once seems hell enough.
He shrugs, “Basically.”
She clicks her tongue, “That sucks.”
“Yeah, well,” He grins excitably, “More time to enjoy the high school experience.”
She stares at him blankly for a short moment, half expecting him to say that he’s joking, or being sarcastic. But by the happy expression on his face, it soon becomes clear how completely serious he is being.
Oh, good lord. He’s one of those. She won’t be too surprised if he ends up revealing that he faked his injury just to stay in school a little longer.
When she’s unable to respond, David inches closer, “Besides,” He says, “It’s not so bad when there’s interesting people around.”
She gives a look up to him, sensing a small shift in his tone. He’s really trying, unlike when he stumbled over his words and thought he was being too creepy. Now he’s forced this unnatural look into his eyes in order to get the whole horny idea across.
“Is this you flirting, David?” She questions.
He purses his lips, eyes now wandering her features greedily, “Yeah.”
Steve’s decided that he’s been looking away for too long. Maybe she’s left by now, so he’ll be met by nothing but the sight of a boring crowd.
He tries his best to focus hard on Tommy’s voice and he nods along like he’s paying attention, but his chest is starting to feel strange now. Tight in a way that has nothing to do with the unbearable heat of the party.
A minute passes.
Maybe two.
Eventually, he lets himself glance over.
Jade is now up from the sofa he last saw her on, and she’s instead standing by the fireplace, leaning against the decorative mantelpiece.
Even from across the room, Steve can tell she’s already had a couple strong drinks. She’s not wasted, just loose enough that the stubborn edges of her usual posture have softened slightly. She’s leaning heavily onto one side more than she normally would, one boot hooked over the other.
Steve doesn’t mean to keep watching, but the minute he spots a guy talking to her, he forgets about everything else.
It’s David Parker, leaning casually opposite her and leaving barely any space between them. He says something that makes Jade tilt her head slightly in that unimpressed way she does when she’s deciding whether someone is worth her time.
Steve can’t hear the conversation over the music.
He’s forced to just watch.
Jade says something short and sharp that makes Rick laugh. She rolls her eyes faintly, but there’s a faint hint of amusement there too.
David takes the small release of emotion as another chance to shift even closer, fingers brushing her hip due to their proximity, and he allows his hand to venture up, until it’s resting on the dip of Jade’s waist, like it belongs there.
Something deep in Steve’s stomach drops immediately.
Jade stiffens slightly when his hand settles there.
Even from across the room Steve can see the small shift in her posture and how her shoulders tense just a fraction.
But, she also doesn’t move his hand away.
That’s the part that makes Steve’s jaw tighten, because he knows her.
He knows the difference between the way she tolerates something and the way she actually allows it. The way she’s standing now is still and watchful and looks a lot more like she’s deciding how to handle the situation rather than enjoying it.
David says something else, leaning closer so his lips brush her ear.
Jade’s head moves away and her shoulders lift higher as her expression changes.
It’s nothing dramatic, but enough for Steve to notice.
Her hand moves to David’s wrist to push it away, but before she can make contact, he’s grabbed her moving hand and shoved it back down her side.
And suddenly the house of the party fades into the background.
Steve doesn’t even remember pushing away from the counter.
One second Tommy is mid-sentence beside him, the next Steve is already shoving through the crowd with his pulse pounding in his ears as the distance between him and the fireplace disappears.
He doesn’t think, doesn’t hesitate.
All he can see is David’s hand still on Jade’s waist and wrist. That’s enough.
“Hey!” He calls.
David looks in his direction just in time for Steve’s fist to connect cleanly with his jaw. The punch knocks him backward into the wall beside the fireplace and the sound rackets through the room.
People shout and scatter around them, like rats being offered a single crumb.
Ignoring the ringing pain in his knuckles, Steve doesn’t bother sparing David another glance because his focus in already on Jade.
She’s looking at him with parted lips and raised brows, both shocked and frustrated.
“Come on,” He mutters, grabbing her wrist and tugging her toward the door.
She jerks her arm free immediately, slamming her cup down to give him all of her attention, “What the hell is wrong with you, Harrington?”
“You’re drunk.” He snaps.
“Barely.” She argues.
When he grabs the sleeve of her jacket, she doesn’t fight back. Not because she’s relenting, but because she won’t be giving these gossip-hungry pigs anything to fuel the rumour mill with.
The minute the cold outside air hits them, Jade shoves him away and spins to face him in the driveway, her eyes blazing.
“What the hell was that?” She shouts, waving a hand to the front door that’s still vibrating with booming music.
“Why don’t you tell me, hm?” Steve runs a hand through his hair and his heart continues to race with adrenaline, “What the hell was that?” He motions to her.
“No! You don’t get to act interested in what I was doing!” She hisses, taking a step back to keep herself from punching him with pent up anger, “You’ve been ignoring me all night!”
“That guy had his goddamn hands on you, Grady!” He yells back, keeping his feet rooted so he doesn’t advance towards her.
“We were doing this thing called… talking.”
“He’s a creep!” He snaps, “David Parker is a no-good lowlife. I mean it, seriously. He’s a year older than me and he’s still in high school. I can’t even believe you’d ever entertain someone like him.”
Jade lets out a sharp laugh, “So what, Harrington? I’m not allowed to talk to him because he’s not your idea of a worthy human being? You called my family low lives too. You remember that? Maybe I’m just hanging out with people like me for once.”
He shakes his head, “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare do that. It’s completely different. Parker has no life, alright? No potential. Nothing beyond high school, hence why he’s still here!”
Rolling her eyes, Jade lowers her voice by the smallest amount so it’s now sharp and painful, “That’s rich coming from you. Incredibly rich.”
He stares at her, brows cinching, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” She says slowly, taking a step back towards him, “You peaked in high school, Harrington. The same as David Parker.”
“That’s not true,” He argues, nostrils flaring.
Her head tilts with challenge, “No? Coulda fooled me. Because you were stood in that kitchen like you were trying to prove that you’re still the big King Steve!” She shouts the name, holding her arms out.
“That— No. I wasn’t trying to prove anything,” He snaps harshly, “Alright?”
She purses her lips, not believing an ounce of his words, “Then why are you here tonight, Harrington? If it’s not to buddy up with your old best pals again because you miss the feeling of power and popularity they gave you.”
His jaw clenches and he struggles to reply for a moment because she’s so completely utterly right. He’s here because he wants to prove he’s not a loser for babysitting middle school kids, or for hooking up with a girl he’s too cowardly to talk to in public because he’s supposed to hate her.
At his lack of response and clear inability to defend himself, Jade scoffs, “Wow. You seriously came here just to be like that again? What is the appeal? I don’t get it. No one even liked you when you were King Steve.”
“Plenty of people liked me,” He snides.
“No. They didn’t.” She says simply, “Tommy and Carol liked you because you were someone to use. Everyone else acted like they liked you because if they didn’t, you’d be cruel. You’d ruin their friendships by making posters, or spreading rumours.”
“I never did any of that stuff.”
“I know,” She says, “But Tommy and Carol did, and you let them.”
“They were my friends, Grady.”
“Don’t act like you came here tonight to make up with them, Harrington,” She scoffs, “You hate them as much as the rest of us. Stop lying to yourself. You came here because you—“
“Stop! Alright?” He raises his voice, snapping his head away from her gaze because he can’t bear how she’s seeing right through him, “Just stop. I don’t need you telling me what I’m doing with my life. If anything,” He looks at her and raises his index to jab it between them, “I should be interrogating you on why you’re here! I saw you in there. Are you a— a goddamn drug dealer now?”
Jade rolls her eyes, “Jesus christ.”
“What? Huh? Are you?” He pushes, “You dealing drugs now for some extra cash? For dirty cash? Do you have any idea how dangerous that can be? I mean, don’t people, like, die from dealing shit for the wrong people?”
“You need to stop watching Scarface, Harrington,” She groans, “I’m not in danger for occasionally supplying weed. This is Hawkins, you’re talking about, not Miami.”
“I don’t care if you’re in any immediate danger. It’s bad news!”
“I’m not a goddamn drug dealer. And I don’t expect you to understand why I’m doing it,” She snarls with frustration, “God forbid, you ever have to work for your own money.”
“Do not play that card, Grady. Don’t treat me like I’m unaware of how the world works because my parents are rich.” He counters instantly, “There’s a dozen other ways for you to make money. A dozen ways that don’t involve drugs.”
“You have no idea how hard it is for me to get a job, Harrington,” She sneers, “With a family reputation like mine? It’s near impossible, okay? No one wants to hire a kid from Forest Hills when they could just as easily pick up some wealthy kid from your neighbourhood,” She runs a hand back through her hair, “Jesus christ. You sound like Hop. Lecturing me.”
“And how would the chief feel if he found out you’re doing this?” He continues to push, his anger barely dying down.
“He won’t find out.”
“No?” He raises his brows, “Won’t he?”
“No,” She snarls slowly, “He won’t. Especially not from you, Harrington. And if he ever does, you can kiss your little… distraction goodbye forever. Stop thinking about things that have no impact on you.”
“No impact on me?” He exhales in disbelief, “It has a pretty big impact on me if you get locked up, or— or— shit, I don’t know… It just does impact me, alright?”
“Only because you let it,” She says, “The same way you let David goddamn Parker impact you tonight. I mean, jesus christ, Harrington. You punch Billy Hargrove once and then suddenly you feel liberated enough to punch everyone else because they bother you. Why would you do that? His family are exactly the type to press charges if you broke his nose… so, why?”
Steve shifts his feet in front of her, his chest pumping up and down and he rests his hands on his hips, “You let that loser put his hands on you, Grady. Maybe I should ask why you did that.”
Her eyes blaze, “I didn’t let him do anything.”
“Didn’t stop him, either.” He counters.
“I was trying to forget about a lot of shit tonight, Harrington!” She snips, “I think I’m allowed to have some guy touch me if I want to.”
He moves closer, “Forget about what?”
“Well, for starters, about the fact that you were pretending I didn’t exist because of Tommy and Carol!” She yells, hand waving back towards the house.
Steve looks away at that, unable to generate a reply and to even look at her in case her gaze makes him crack.
“I never expected you to come over and hang out with me. Wouldn’t have wanted that, either,” Jade continues, shaking her head lightly at him, “But anything other than what you did would’ve been better. Anything would’ve been better than you joking with them like we were seventeen again.”
He exhales sharply, the fight in his voice dying considerably because he really has no way to argue against her now, “You know what they’d say.”
“I don’t care what they’d say!”
“Well I do!”
Her expression falls, more in slight confusion, and she stares at him, trying to understand what he means, “Why? Why would you ever choose them over me?”
Steve hesitates at her words then as he realises that is exactly what he did. He had every possibility to talk to Jade, but instead he hung around his two old friends because he’d feel like a loser for doing anything else.
Even he doesn’t really know why he cares what they say.
It’s probably due to the years he spent with the couple, relying on their every word and their ideas to keep themselves popular. As much as he hated Tommy and Carol, they were very occasionally good friends and he let those short glimpses of good blind him.
“I… Jesus christ, Grady,” He sighs heavily, “I don’t know. But I wish I never had.”
They glare at each other in the cold driveway, the muffled music from the house still pounding faintly in the background as the party rages on without them.
“I hate you,” Jade whispers and just shakes her head at him before curling her arms around her torso and shakily settling down into the street curb, tensed back to him.
Steve notices the way she sways slightly as she lowers, and even when she’s sat, her shoulders continue to move back and forth.
He rubs at his jaw, thinking what to do, and his feet make the decision for him. He wanders over, stepping out into the empty road and moving around to the front of her.
“How much did you drink?” He asks, burying his hands in his pockets as he peers down at her.
He watches carefully as she buries her fingers in her hair and groans quietly, no doubt from a dull headache brought on by both the alcohol and the argument.
“Like… three?”
“Of?”
She shrugs weakly, dragging her hands down her face before forcing her head up to look at him.
Her mascara is now smudged slightly on her cheeks from where she scrubbed at her tired eyes, and she sniffles quietly, the cold air causing nose to run.
Steve heart aches at how she looks. So small, shivering and undone. And, what makes it worse, it’s because of him.
“You’re going home,” He sighs.
“Not in your car, I’m not.” She swallows, noticing the red beamer across the road sat beneath a buzzing streetlight.
“Yes, you are.”
“No,” She crosses her arms stubbornly, acting completely childish but she’s beyond caring.
Steve stares down at her for a few song seconds, his brain working every possibility of how he could do this.
Then, finally, he huffs and walks over. He dips his body over hers before picking her up and before she’s able to process the quick movement, Jade finds herself hauled over his shoulder, her hands seeking stability against his lower back.
“Harrington! Put me down!” She scowls and kicks weakly as he carries her towards his car, “Steve! You’re— Argh! You’re unbelievable!”
“Uh-huh. Yeah,” He mutters, leaning down ever so slightly so he can use his free hand to open the passenger door.
He sets her down carefully before reaching over her and buckling the seatbelt before she can protest again. He has the alcohol to thank slightly for her slow reactions and slightly blurred sight, otherwise she would probably be spitting insults in his face right now.
As he sits behind the wheel, Jade scowls quietly and turns her body away completely, arms folded and chin high as she pretends to look out of the window, but realistically she’s trying to watch him in the reflection.
She catches his small smug smirk and it makes her own lips lift but she masks it with an eye roll.
The drive to the trailer park is quiet, and after a few minutes of keeping up her annoyed act, Jade’s body eventually gives up and she relaxes into the leather seat instinctively.
When they park, they’re surrounding by darkness and silence, and despite her alcohol-induced slowness Jade still manages to get out of the car in record speed.
Steve catches up to her instantly and walks her to the bedroom window. His hands find her waist, lifting her up onto the milk crate before he nudges the window open and guides her through the small gap.
She climbs inside without any argument and once she’s sat on her mattress, she looks back at him, pausing.
“I really hate you,” She whispers so quietly it’s barely audible even in the night’s thick silence.
He nods, “I hate you too, Grady.”
She pushes the window down after that, and slowly draws the curtains closed and he waits until he sees the warm glow of her bedside light click on before he heads back to his car.
He flexes his right fist, feeling the faint sting from the impact with David’s cheek.
But, surprisingly, that wasn’t the most painful consequence of tonight. It was the fact that he knows he made the conscious decision to be with Tommy and Carol over her. Over Jade Grady.
summary: the two times jim hopper catches steve and jade together before the summer of ‘85.
time setting: between s2 & s3,
warnings: ‘enemies’ with benefits dynamic, fluff fluff fluff, light argument, swearing, hopper’s basically adopted jade and her brother, making out, mention of a shitty step dad (mitch), cuddling, soft jade & steve.
word count: 3.6k
.⋆♱ masterlist || static on wattpad
1. Trailer No.24. February 1985.
The knock on the trailer door is sharp and heavy, yet the occupants inside don’t hear it, too distracted by one another to care about anything else.
Jade’s back hits the wall first and she smirks when the force knocks a photo frame from the top of her dresser. Steve apologises through a mumble against her lips before she drags him even closer, knowing he honestly doesn’t care for the picture.
Her bedroom door is closed, music playing low from her record player. It’s an old track, something she threw on to hide any other noises that may be generated in her room.
She holds the collar of his polo, blindly leading him towards her bed whilst his hands track up and down her waist before dipping beneath her t-shirt. The minute the back of her knees hit the mattress, she lays back, letting him crawl over the top of her.
“God, I needed this,” Steve whispers and one of Jade’s hands disappears into the hair at the back of his head, forcing their bodies closer.
The kiss is easy at first, familiar and warm. Then it grows deeper when he shifts closer, one hand braced beside her head and his hips instinctively grinding down.
Jade’s small responsive moan is overrun by the harsh slam of the front door and the trailer shakes around them from the movement. Steve jerks back so fast he nearly falls off the bed whereas Jade’s too terrified to move, expecting her step-father to come crashing down the hall any moment.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” She rambles under her breath, mind running on overdrive to try and think of a quick exit for Steve. Maybe for herself too, “Steve, you have to go—“
Heavy boots pound the narrow hallway and her breathing quickens until a shout rockets through the small home, “JADE!”
Thankfully, it’s not Mitch, but Hopper instead, which in someways is worse because he doesn’t argue just to fight and release some anger. He argues because he cares, maybe too much.
“Oh,” Jade exhales, nudging Steve off her as she tries to school her expression and prepare for whatever is coming, “Oh, no.”
The bedroom door flies open so hard it hits the wall, adding to the indents in the plaster. Hopper’s large frame fills the doorway, blocking the light from the hall with broad shoulders and a tight jaw. His gaze immediately lands on Steve, then to Jade’s rosy cheeks.
There’s a long, agonising pause. Jade prays for a hole to open up and just swallow her whole, because the older man is blazing with anger.
Steve swallows thickly, “…Chief.”
Hopper’s eyes narrow, “You have five goddamn seconds to explain why your car is parked outside,” He growls, “And why the hell you are on her bed.”
Uselessly, Steve opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He’s acutely aware of how his hands are weakly shaking as they squeeze his thighs and his chest is pumping more.
“First of all…” Jade pushes herself upright slowly, appearing much less bothered, “Please don’t open my door like that,” She mumbles calmly, “It barely hangs on as it is.”
Hopper doesn’t even look at her as he speaks, “I come here to talk to you about Mitch… and instead I find this idiot’s car outside. Great way to make my day a whole lot worse.”
Steve blinks, glancing over to Jade, “Mitch? Who’s… Mitch?”
There’s the finest flicker of irritation in Jade’s expression, not directed at Steve but more so the situation.
“No one.” She snaps, barely sparing him a glance as she focuses her annoyance on Hopper, “You burst in here like we’re committing felonies. You could’ve knocked, you know? I’m pretty sure you need a warrant to come into someone’s home like this, so…”
“Don’t need a warrant when it’s here, alright? And I did knock. Twice.” He shoots back.
Jade purses her lips in realisation, “Well, we were busy.”
Hopper’s brows shoot up, “Busy. Right. That what we callin’ it now?”
“Stop looking at me like that,” She snarls, standing from her bed, “Give me a break.”
Jackson’s bedroom creaks open at the other end of the hall and he sticks his head out, hair a mass and eyes immediately lighting up at the sight of brewing argument.
“Oh,” He smiles, “This looks fun.”
Around Hopper’s shoulder, Jade’s gaze moves in the boy’s direction, “Go back to your room, Jack.”
“Uh…” Jack laughs, “No,” He squints past Hopper’s frame, eyes widening at the sight of the boy sat on the edge of Jade’s bed, “Harrington?”
Steve’s jaw clenches, “Hey.”
Hopper jabs a finger at Jackson without turning his head, “Inside your room, kid.”
Jackson completely ignores the command and steps out into the hallway fully, arms folding as he settles to lean against the wall with the perfect vantage point to watch like it’s live entertainment.
Hopper exhales sharply and refocuses on Jade, “Mitch is in custody. Overnight. Thought I should let you know.”
Steve frowns, a question lingering on his tongue.
Jade clenches her jaw, every morsel of her being hating how Steve is here for this, “For what?”
“Public intoxication.”
“Oh, what a surprise. That is a real shame,” She drawls sarcastically, “Thank you for letting us know. You can leave now.”
Steve’s beyond baffled and he looks between all three of them, getting increasingly lost as they all look far too casual. Public intoxication, overnight custody.
“Wait,” He builds up to the courage to speak, “Is this, like… an ex or something?”
Neither Jade or Hopper even bother to look in his direction, let alone ask his question because they’re too busy glaring at one another.
Jackson snorts, shaking his head from the hallway, “Oh, man. You are so out of your depth here.”
Jade still faintly catches onto his words and her eyes snap in his direction, “Jack,” She warns, silently telling him to shut up before he discloses something he shouldn’t.
Jackson seems to understand, nodding and waving her off with a weak hand as he encourages her to refocus on Hopper.
“Why are you still here, Hopper?” She groans, “You’ve done your job, so now—“
“My job changed the minute I came in and saw him—“ He raises a finger towards Steve, “—in your goddamn bed. What the hell did I say about staying away from him?”
Steve swallows thickly, chin dropping to his chest.
She scoffs, “You are not doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“This,” She motions to the older man, “The protective lecture.”
“You’re damn right I am.” He counters.
“You do not get to storm in like you live here and then look at me with disappointment like you’re my parole officer,” She snarls, “Alright?”
Steve shifts awkwardly on the edge of the bed, hands clasped between his knees as he feels like he’s watching a tennis match he doesn’t understand the rules of.
“I don’t want him near you,” Hopper gestures sharply to Steve, “I don’t want him here. Did you listen to a word ai tell you before? About the kinda boy he is?”
The words hit Steve square in the chest as he realises they’ve discussed this before, discussed him. It doesn’t take a genius to work out what kinda boy he is, and Steve wants to defend himself but he knows he can’t. He is, or was, exactly what Hopper is getting at.
Jade stares at Hopper blankly, “You… don’t want him here.”
“That’s what I said.”
She lets outs a laugh of pure disbelief and the sound cuts through the room, “You don’t live here.”
Hopper’s jaw grinds slowly, “That doesn’t mean I don’t get a say.”
“It absolutely means that,” She argues.
“He ain’t good enough for you,” Hopper continues, voice low but heated, “He’s trouble.”
“Not good enough? I’m not wanting to marry him, Hopper!” Jade hisses, “And what do you mean trouble? He hasn’t even done anything.”
“Has he not?” He scoffs, “He’s Steve Harrington. I’m sure that if I asked around, I’d get some complaints.”
Steve looks between them, feeling increasingly invisible and very present at the same time. He wants to say something to remind them of his presence, but he feels like he’ll just get snapped at, or ignored.
“Yes, he is Steve Harrington, and trust me, I’m not too thrilled about it sometimes either,” Jade grumbles, “But that it’s not a crime. It’s just slightly unfortunate.”
Steve’s jaw drops as Jackson barks out a loud laugh.
“You think I don’t know his type?” Hopper barrels on like the point of topic is sat right there, “Rich kid, fancy car. Nothing better than to do than show up here and—“
“And what?” She cuts in sharply, “Ruin my life? I don’t think he’s the one that’s doing that,” She steps closer to him, chin lifting, “You don’t get a say in any aspect of my life, Hop. None of it. I’m allowed to kiss whoever I want, even if it is Harrington.”
Hopper’s eyes narrow as they drag over to Steve, “You’re leaving.”
Steve immediately nods, scrambling off the bed, “Yes, sir.”
“Sir?” Jackson cackles from the hall, “Oh my god.”
Jade’s hand reaches up, fingers brushing Steve’s chest as she stops his movements towards the door. She keeps her gaze on Hopper, brows drawn together, “Excuse me?”
He looks down at her, “You heard me.”
“You cannot kick him out.”
“Just did.”
“You don’t live here!” She snaps, voice rising now, “You don’t pay the rent. You don’t get to make the rules.”
“No, but the piece of shit who does pay the rent is in police custody right now so I’m the next best thing,” He fires back, “And he ain’t staying.”
Steve hands slowly raise into a surrender, “I can just—“
“No,” Jade says immediately.
Hopper drags his eyes to Steve like he’s something stuck to the bottom of his boot, something that won’t go away after multiple scrubs. “Out,” He says simply.
Steve hesitates.
Jade looks at him, “Don’t listen to him.”
Hopper steps aside and points roughly down the hallway, the contents of his work belt shifting as he moves slightly, “Out.”
“He’s not a dog,” Jade snips.
The tension in the room tightens to a wire as Hopper’s glare carries enough meaning in itself. Not a dog, sure. But a boy who acts, or acted like one especially with any girl he could get his hands on.
Steve looks at Jade again. Her jaw is set, eyes blazing and her chest is pumping for her growing anger. He doesn’t want to make it worse.
“I’ll call you,” He decides quietly.
Her brows crease, “Steve—“
“It’s fine,” He insists, grabbing his jacket from the end of her bed. He’s acutely aware of Hopper’s stare burning into him the entire time and he avoids eye contact as he shuffles past, shoulders stiffening.
In the hallway, he passes Jackson, who’s still leaning against the wall. “Rough night, Harrington,” He murmurs, like he’s watching a drunken man stumble home from a night out. Lost and completely out of his depth.
“Shut up,” Steve mutters back.
It’s then when Steve realises he’s never seen this much of the Grady’s trailer. He’s only ever been allowed in Jade’s room via the window. Although his feet are moving quickly, his eyes flick around to try and get a glimpse of the entire place.
It’s cold and the windows are slightly frosted from the night’s winter chill. There’s dishes piled in the sink and beer bottles dotted across the counter. The living room is a messy, but an organised one, like they have toomuch clutter to make it totally neat but someone’s still tried to clean.
He notices how there’s not a single photo frame on the wall, unlike Jade’s room where she has pictures of her and Jackson dotted around with a few even featuring the Byers brothers. Instead on the far back wall, beside the window, there’s a gun case with two rifles sat inside and a key in the lock.
As he leaves the trailer, letting the weak plastic door slam closed behind him, Steve becomes aware of how he knows nothing about Jade Grady’s home life. He’s heard the occasional rumour about her shitty criminal mother and abandoning father, but by now he’s learnt not to rely on rumours to understand a person.
The name Mitch rings around his head as he starts his car. Who the fuck is Mitch?
Inside, the silence is sharp and lingering as neither Hopper nor Jade have moved an inch, their eyes challenging the other with a glare.
“Get out of my room,” Jade snides, “Actually, get out of my home altogether.”
Hopper takes a deep breath, “Don’t be like that, kid. I’m tryna help you out here.”
“Help me out?” She repeats with a scoff of disbelief, “If you really want to help me out, Hop, leave my life alone.”
“Someone’s gotta look out for you,” He huffs, “I ain’t the enemy here.”
“I feel like I need to remind you that you are not my dad, or my… legal guardian, alright?” She snarls, venom weaving between her words, “And I’m not some charity case for you to fix. Let me live my life the way I want to!”
His jaw clenches, his chest taking the hit directly to his heart, “I don’t think you’re a charity at all, kid. That ain’t what this is about.”
“Then you have no reason to be doing any of this,” She mutters, dropping down to her bed.
He watches her carefully and the anger drains just a fraction as she starts to gnaw at her bottom lip, a clear telltale sign of her frustration.
“Just want you to be smarter than this,” He says, taking a slow step back out of her room altogether.
“Ugh! Fuck you.” She sneers, throwing a pillow in his direction, but it hits the wall above her door.
Jackson smirks at him as he exits, “That was better than cable,” He teases.
Closing Jade’s doors with a rough yank, Hopper sends him a completely unamused look, “You call me if that boy comes round here again, alright?”
Chuckling, Jackson nods slowly, “Sure, Hop.”
“I mean it, Jack,” He snaps, traipsing down the hallway and into the open kitchen, “I gotta know this stuff.”
“She’s seventeen, dude.”
“Still a kid,” Hopper snatches his hat from the counter, “So call me.”
Jackson’s eyelids flutter closed as he agrees, “Yeah, okay.” He grumbles.
The words fall flat because he will not be calling Hopper, ever. As much as the idea of Harrington and Jade being together irritates Jack, he understands how he can’t be interfering in his sister’s life like that, not to that degree.
It’s a shame Hopper doesn’t have the same mindset.
He grabs his bedroom door handle, knocking it open as he peers up at the chief, “When’s Mitch out?”
Hopper moves towards the trailer door, grumbling, “The morning. Should be back here by midday. Pretty sure Callahan’s bringin’ him round.”
“Okay,” Jackson sighs, “Thanks.”
Sending him a short sympathetic nod, Hopper drops down the steps onto the frozen dirt track running along the trailer. He looks over to the end, making sure Steve has definitely left, before he clambers up into his truck and takes a deep breath. As he starts the car, his eyes wander to Jade’s bedroom window but her dark red curtains are closed and all he can make out is her silhouette as she sits on her bed. He can only imagine that she’s cursing him out.
In all honestly, he’s surprised he didn’t curse him out more. That’s usually her go to. Maybe Steve’s presence affected things.
————
2. Hopper’s Cabin. April 1985.
The spring morning air in the woods is cold, but just the right amount of sunlight pokes through the trees to warm up the atmosphere. Hopper’s janky sheriff truck crunches over the dirt track a little faster than usual, tires spitting small stones up as he pulls in on a crooked angle.
He’s muttering under his breath as he kill the engine, his day already going in a horrendous direction. First it begun with a very early start at work before the sun had even revealed itself.
And El had been bothering him about going to Mike’s so he’d been late to the station because he spent half the drive lecturing her about the rules.
Then, to top it all off, he’d only been at work for a few hours when he realised he’d left a case file on the cabin’s coffee table in Eleven’s haste to see her boyfriend.
As Hopper drops from the truck, he checks his watch. El should still be at Mike’s with the rest of the party. The cabin should be empty. He groans at that, as he taps his pockets searching for the door keys whilst dragging his feet up the path.
He climbs the porch steps, keys jingling as he finally draws them deep from his jacket pocket. His boots thud against the wood and the sunlight catches the shaken dust in the air. He shoves the necessary key into the lock, but as he does so, the door knocks open by an inch, like it wasn’t ever properly shut.
That makes him frown. He’s sure he shut it. Well, he’s such a worry head there’s no way on earth he wouldn’t lock it.
Reaching for the knob carefully, his instincts sharpen out of habit and his fingers brush the gun attacked to his torso. With a small push, the door creaks open and he slowly steps inside, now softening his steps when his frustration shapes into concern.
The interior of the cabin smells faintly of coffee grounds and waffles. The small space is still as dim as he left it; the curtains barely open and all the lights off, apart from the corner lamp. A beam of morning light stretches across the wooden slats of the floor, illuminating the coffee table where his file is laid.
He’s already forming the lecture in his head. For all of them. El, Jade, and Jackson.
The door stays locked. Always. Every bolt and latch.
His quiet tutting is halted the minute he seems them on the couch. For a split second, his brain refuses to process it. Two figures tangled together beneath the old plaid blanket.
Then it clicks. It’s not Mike and Eleven, but instead Steve and Jade.
The both of them are asleep, deeply asleep. They’re hushed snoring emits around the cabin.
Jade is curled on her side, facing and tucked into Steve’s chest like she was made just to fit into that particular space. One of her hands is fisted loosely between them, and she’s wearing a white tank top, thin straps slipping down her arm whilst her curly hair spills messily across the couch.
Steve is shirtless, one hand resting on her waist beneath the material of her tank, whilst she uses his other arm for a pillow and his fingers hover by her hair. Her head is tucked just beneath his chin, and his slow breaths fan over her forehead.
Hopper stands there, file completely forgotten, staring. His first instinct is automatic: wake them up, yell, kick the boy out.
But the overprotective dad energy just isn’t there today. Especially as he notices something else.
Jade looks incredibly peaceful. Not tense, or half-alert. Not like she’s bracing for someone to burst in with a raised voice. Her face is soft in sleep, nose brushing Steve’s bare chest with her lips slightly parted and brows smooth.
Hopper can’t remember the last time he saw her look that relaxed. Probably when she was fifteen and slept in his chair at the station with no worry of her step-father stumbling in.
Steve’s hold on her isn’t possessive, but rather subtly protective. His hand rests flat against her ribs like he fell asleep needing to make sure she was still there and breathing.
Exhaling slowly through his nose, Hopper rubs his hands over his face. “Unbelievable,” He mutters quietly, but there’s no real heat to his words.
Almost everything about this bothers him, and goes against everything he’s set up. The door was unlocked and not even closed properly, there’s a shirtless teenage boy on his couch and that boy is Steve Harrington. But the sight of Jade actually sleeping like she has no other worries overrides all of those bothers.
He steps further into the room, making an effort to walk on the rug to avoid causing too much noise. He leans over the coffee table, grabbing the case file very slowly to keep from knocking anything to the floor.
On his way back through the door, he pauses and looks at them again.
Steve shifts slightly in his sleep, pulling Jade closer as his hand moves to her back and Jade murmurs, burying her face deeper into his chest.
Shaking his head, Hopper slips out the door as gently as he came in, pulling it shut firmly behind him this time and he can only pray Jade locks it eventually.
The truck engine roars back to life a minute later, then fades down the track.
But inside the cabin, the room stays still and softly lit by the spring sun as it inches further across the floor.
Jade huffs, blinking awake at the faint sound of the truck disappearing. For a second she doesn’t know where she is, until her eyes adjust as she’s met with the sight of a bare chest. There’s a mole on the left peck, and she knows it to belong to Steve Harrington.
She relaxes immediately, with no idea that Jim Hipper was ever there, and no idea of what he saw.
Steve’s fingers flex lightly against her back, but he remains peacefully asleep, basking in the comfort of the couch and the closeness of her body.
She closes her eyes again, and lets herself fall back under.
summary: a few weeks after they hooked up in his car for the first time, steve calls jade over when he’s home alone, desperate to feel that good again.
time setting: early 1985, between season 2 & 3
warnings: ‘enemies’ with benefits, smut, swearing, smoking, unprotected pinv, creampie, steve calls her ‘sweetheart’, jackson is jade’s younger brother, mentions of nancy and steve’s past relationship, making out, dry humping, soft steve, third person perspective.
word count: 3k
a/n: first one shot in the static universe. these two mean soo much to me. (if you have not, check out ‘static’ on wattpad ☻︎ but it is not necessary to have read that to enjoy this!)
.⋆♱ masterlist || static on wattpad
Steve hates his house with a burning passion when his parents are gone, not that he really likes it when they’re here either. It’s not quieter, because even when they are home, they’re never loud. It’s just hollow and every inch of movement seems to echo and the hum of the refrigerator seems to carry further.
He lies flat on his back on top of his comforter, staring up at the faint hairline crack jagging out from the light fitting on the ceiling above his bed.
He’s been trying, and failing, not to think about calling her for the past twenty minutes.
The phone on his bedside table feels much heavier than usual when he finally gathers the balls to pick it up. He dials her number from memory, listening to each ring like it might change its mind and disconnect for him.
She answers on the fourth ring.
“What?” Jade’s voice is low and uninterested.
His eyes flick to his clock, wondering if maybe he’s woken her up, or if she’s been busy with something else. “You busy?” He asks, forcing his tone to sound casual.
There’s a faint thud on her end and he can only presume it’s her resting against the trailer’s hallway wall as she prepares to talk to him. “Depends.” She answers.
He sits up slowly, kicking his legs off his bed, “My parents are gone.” He doesn’t elaborate, it’s not needed.
The line stays quiet for a beat longer than expected before Jade sighs, “That’s nice, Harrington. What do you want me to do about that?”
Leaning forward so his elbows rest on his knees, Steve lets his head hang and a few strands of his hair brush his brows, “I thought you could come over.”
The invite sits in the air between them.
“Are you calling because you’re bored,” She says lightly but he hears how her tone becomes teasing as she continues, “or because you miss me?”
He exhaled through his nose, eyes burning holes into his carpet, “Don’t push it.”
She hums in satisfaction because his lack of denial is an answer enough. God, when they first started this, he wouldn’t spluttered a thousand reasons why he’d never miss her.
“Are you expecting me to crawl through your window?” She asks, “Or will I be able to use the front door like a civilised individual?”
“You make me climb through your window, Grady,” He grumbles, dragging his hand down his face to act as though his heart isn’t thudding against his chest with anticipation, “Yeah, use the front door.” He huffs, “How you gonna get over here? Need me to pick you up?”
“I’ll be there when I’m there.” She hangs up without another word.
___
Steve waits by the living room window longer than he’d ever care to admit.
The tree-lined street outside is dark, lit only by spaced-out lampposts and the occasional sweep of passing headlights. The Harrington household sits pristine and symmetrical in the middle of the block, sat back from the sidewalk with a driveway leading up to the door.
When he sees her walking up the sidewalk, his chest tightens. She moves with that loose confidence, boots quiet against the concrete before she turns towards his house.
He opens the door before she’s even able to knock.
Jade stands on his doorstep beneath the soft glow of the overhead light, her hands tucked into the pockets of a leather jacket. Her un-styled hair falls loose over one shoulder, slightly wind-tousled from the walk over.
There’s something about her in the quiet suburban setting of his neighbourhood that feels out of place. She’s been here before, the night Barb disappeared. But this is so different. This time she’s not here to mediate and supply weed, instead she’s here because he wants her to be.
She rocks back and forth on her heels, “So… you gonna stare at me all night?” She asks.
“Did you seriously walk over here?” He questions, stepping aside to let her in.
“Told you before, I like walking.”
The door shuts behind her with a soft click, sealing them inside the stillness of the huge house. She glances around automatically, taking more time than she did previously to study the interior. Her eyes scan the framed photos along the wall, the shining polished bannister. It smells of lemon cleaner that never quite fades. Everything looks so staged.
“They’re really gone?” She asks, gaze drifting over a shoe rack where a few pairs are balancing.
“Chicago,” He confirms, “Some conference thing.”
She nods once in satisfaction.
The two of them move upstairs without discussion, their footsteps muted against the cream carpet. Steve’s bedroom door shuts behind them. His room feels slightly warmer, more lived-in compared to the entrance hallway. There’s a few framed landscapes on the wall, clothes draped over the back of his desk chair and odd decorations scattered across the dresser. The faint scent of cologne lingers in the air like it was sprayed last minute. The lamp upon his desk offers the only source of light, though its warm glow is enough to illuminate the room comfortably.
Jade shrugs off her jacket and drapes it over the desk chair without asking. She moves around the space with careful ease, head tilted as she reads the titles of the few books on his shelf and examines the records piled beside a player.
“Are you always this tidy?” She asks. A very small part of her feels slightly embarrassed because the first time Steve came into her room, it looked like a war zone, as it always does.
“My mom is,” He shrugs.
She hums softly and her hand ventures into the back pocket of her jeans. She pulls out a slightly crushed pack of cigarettes while crossing to the window and lifting it open, letting the cool air swarm in.
“Oh, is this okay?” She looks at him, “I’ve been needing this all day but I’m trying not to smoke when Jack’s at home.”
He nods, stepping closer and leaning one shoulder against the wall beside her, “Sure.”
The small flame of her lighter briefly illuminates her face, flickering against her cheekbones before she inhales at the end of the cigarette frazzles. She makes a deliberate decision to exhale sharply out of the open window.
“Give me one,” He speaks up, the idea of a cigarette calming his nerves really peaking his interest right now.
She glances at him sideways, lips lifting, “I thought you quit.”
“Never said that.”
“You did,” She snorts, “You said exactly that.”
He narrows his eyes, “Yeah, well, I need the stress relief.”
She passes it to him, their fingers brushing lightly. The contact lingers just long enough to register before he takes it fully. He inhales slowly, the burn settling in his throat.
They fall into an easy rhythm then, sharing the cigarette without needing to discuss it. The ember glows in the room each time one of them lifts it, a small pulse of orange light flickering between them.
The quiet isn’t uncomfortable. It feels different from the night of the Snow Ball, in his car. It’s not frantic, not completely charged by arousal.
He clears his throat lightly, “How’s Jackson?”
Jade wanders over to his bed, curling her legs beneath her as she settles on the plush mattress, “Annoying. He’s actually been talking about this girl.”
Steve’s brows raise and he follows after her, lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand, “Oh? And?”
She passes him the cigarette whilst exhaling, the smoke curling up into her nose, “Her name is Brittney. He won’t let me meet her.”
“Hm?” He inhales sharply. To be completely honest, he’s more focused on her and how her lip’s look rather than her goddamn brother and his middle-school crush. “Why’s that?”
“He says I’ll scare her off,” She shrugs.
Steve glances at her, amused whilst placing the cig back between her fingers, “Would you?”
“If she’s a bitch, sure,” Jade nods carelessly, “God, I really cannot have him dating some mean popular girl. Destined for disaster. Could you imagine? He’s supposed to be the opposite of me.”
He studies her carefully for a moment, brows cinching faintly when he sees how her sharp eyes dart towards him, “Is that a sly dig you’re trying to make, Grady?”
“Was it sly?” She purses her lips, “Wasn’t meant to be.”
That’s enough to make him move. He sits up, pricking the cigarette from her fingers and snubbing it out on his bedside table before turning back to her.
“Uh, hello?” She gawks at him, “I was not finished with that.”
“Yeah, well, I was,” He mutters, his hand sliding around her waist to drag her closer, “C’mere.”
She allows him to position her on his lap, her knees either side of his thighs. She holds his shoulders, massaging the material of his t-shirt beneath her fingers, “You’re insufferable. Got a one track mind.”
“Mhm. I let you smoke first though, so don’t be ungrateful,” He hums, his large hands venturing up and down her entire torso, exploring the expanse of her back and the dips of her waist like he’s memorising it until he finally pushes beneath her shirt.
She shivers as his cold hands meet her skin and she lifts her arms so he’s able to remove her top and discard it carelessly to the floor.
The moment the thin material is gone from between them, Jade pushes forward, crashing her lips against his desperately while her hand grasps the back of his neck and her fingers disappear into his hair.
He moans against her lips as she tugs gently at a few strands and his hand grip her waist, shifting her hips so they grind across the growing bulge in his jeans.
She pushes him down so he’s laid on his back and their lips never part as they kiss like their lives depend on it. Tongues swirl past one another, mixing salivas and breathes. Occasionally he’ll bite her lip and she’ll become aware of the wetness around their mouths.
Her brain circles around before she has chance to stop it. It’s the setting that trigger the thoughts. His room. Steve Harrington’s bedroom. The infamous fuck boy’s room. Although she keeps kissing him, the rhythm falters and she halts the grinding of her hips.
He notices immediately as her sweet sounds fall silent and the hold she has on the side of his neck loosens significantly, like she’s switching off.
“Grady?” He mumbles against her, hand raising to cup her cheek so he can push them further apart. His eyes study every inch of her face carefully; her swollen lips, twitching brows and eyes that are clearly distracted. “What’s wrong?” He asks breathlessly, “Jade?”
At the use of her first name, she grasps his wrist and lowers his hand so she’s able to sit up further. She keeps his wrist in her grip, but lowers it so their hands rest against his torso.
He peers up at her cluelessly, “Jade.” He repeats, “What is it?”
She tilts her head, eyes snapping to meet his, “Who was the last girl you had sex with in this bed? And be honest.”
The question hits him completely out of the blue. It’s something a girlfriend would ask. Something an anxious, jealous girl would ask for reassurance. Jade’s none of those things, or so he thinks.
“Wha…” He trails, “Jesus christ, Grady. Why are you asking me that now?”
“Tell me,” She says simply.
He opens his mouth then closes it again multiple times in the next few moments as his brain figures out how to navigate this. Will she care if he’s truthful? Is she even actually bothered, or is she just asking to see if he’ll be honest?
“Nancy,” His voice is quiet, border-lining a whisper, “It was Nancy. Months ago. Before Halloween.”
Jade swallows thickly, not because she’s surprised but more because it carries a sobering sting. It welcomes the reality of this situation between them. She’s been hooking up with her close friend’s ex-boyfriend for months now. She’s never had these thoughts before with him but being in his bed, where he was intimate with Nancy goddam Wheeler, makes a stranger feeling gnaw at her insides.
“Nancy was the last one?” She asks carefully.
He nods instantly, “Yeah. I’ve been hooking up with you since her, Jade. Only you. I know you think I’m sleazy, but I don’t fuck multiple girls at once.”
Her eyes narrow in slight disbelief, “Harrington—“
“You were the first and only girl I’ve ever hooked up with in my car,” He rambles suddenly, grasping at strings to try and fix whatever is jumping around her head, “Alright? I mean, c’mon, Grady. I let you ride my cock in my Beamer. I’ve never done that shit before with any other girl.”
Jade’s slightly taken aback by his admission but she can’t deny how it fills her with an odd sense of pride, “Why—” She smirks, “Why have you just told me that?”
“Because… shit, I think about it a lot, okay?” He groans, hands brushing up and down her thighs over her jeans, “Why do you think I called you over here? That was, like, the best fuck I’ve ever had.”
She dips her body again, pulling her lip between her teeth before she says, “You’re such a fucking loser, Steve.”
His brows raise for a split second, thinking she’s being serious and is about to crawl off him and disappear because she’s angry. But instead, she kisses him again. Harder this time, fuelled by something deep from inside. He whimpers into her open mouth, his hands frantically dropping to her jean buttons.
“Take your clothes off,” She mumbles before slipping away from him to shimmy out of her jeans.
By the time she’s returned to crawl over him, he’s completely naked. His jeans and blue t-shirt long forgotten on the other side of the bed. He welcomes her to settle on his lap again, this time his cock jumps against her thigh and he looks up at her with wide eyes.
She reaches below her, takes him in her hand like he belongs there and he never looks away from her face as she slowly lowers down onto him.
“Jesus— fuck,” He moans, acutely aware of how they’ve skipped all foreplay, “You’re so wet.”
“I’ve really been needing this apparently,” She whispers, wiggling her hips a little once he’s completely inside.
“Yeah?” His throat jumps as she starts to grind on him and his hands instinctively grab her waist to maintain the rhythm, “Go on then, sweetheart. Take what you need.”
His words alone are enough to make Jade moan and throw her head back, the pace of her hips quickening whilst his cock is nestled inside her like it belongs there. Steve’s watching her intently, his lips parted as he’s unable to stop the constant stream of pleasurable groans and quiet curses.
Much to his surprise, Jade doesn’t tease him for his noises and if anything they fuel her more as she squeezes her eyes closed, tightening her grip on his bare shoulders for stability.
He recognises the exact minute her pleasure starts to boil over. He’s got quite good at knowing it. Her jaw slackens and her lips part with small whines which she tries to refrain from doing but that seems to be impossible, especially when Steve starts to jerk his hips up into her. Another telltale sign is how her head lols forward and she seems unable to look away from his gaze, like it’s the only thing keeping her from completely shattering.
“Steve…” She breathes shakily.
He’s nodding before she has to say anything else and he hooks his hands beneath her thighs, lifting her ever so slightly so she’s hovering and he’s able to relieve her of the hard work. Both of their eyes roll back the minute he starts to fuck up into her.
One of Jade’s hands blindly wanders from his shoulder to brush over his chest and abdomen as she wants to feel every inch of him.
Steve can’t tear his eyes from her face, “I’m really fucking close, sweetheart.” He pants.
Jade moans fill the room as he quickens his pace by a beat and she nods, “Me too.” Then she’s dipping her head to catch his lips in a deep wet kiss with one hand snaking around the back of his neck.
Before she even has time to pull away, the orgasm flutters through her body with a blinding warmth and she whines loudly, fingers tightening around his hair and thighs shaking under his grip. Steve’s own body reacts immediately, the pit in his stomach rushing over as he comes undone, pornographic whimpers exchanging into Jade’s mouth.
“Oh… fuck,” His voice quavers, eyes glossing over as the pleasure ripples through him.
She feels his release pool inside her and he thrusts up a few more times before shakily settling against the mattress, slowly lowering her back down to sit on him again. Jade drops her forehead to his shoulder, shivering as his large hands move to her back to hold them close.
“I fucking…” She pants against his skin, “…hate how good you make me feel.”
He presses a lingering kiss to her neck and she feels how his lips are curled into a smug smirk, “Likewise,” His warm breath fans against the side of her face as he peers down at her, “Now, are you gonna let me clean you up this time?”
She huffs breathlessly, straightening up to look at him, “I think we should start using condoms.”
He snorts at her bluntness while shuffling to the edge of the bed, her still propped in his lap and his softening cock inside her. “We can do whatever the hell you want to do, Grady,” He sighs as he stands up, tugging her legs around his waist.
Jade curls her arms around his neck, allowing him to carry her towards his en-suite bathroom. “I mean it.”
He hums, kicking the door open, “Then I’ll buy some.”
welcome to my masterlist! here you can find my works.
disclaimer: some posts include explicit content, therefore 18+ MDNI. posts marked with ‘ ✧ ’ include smut. you have been warned!
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ STRANGER THINGS
steve harrington:
static oneshots: - in chronological order.
(these are extras for my wattpad book, but you do not have to have read that to enjoy these!)
⟢ cigarettes before sex : a few weeks after they hooked up in his car for the first time, steve calls jade over when he’s home alone, desperate to feel that good again. ✧
⟢ pointless pretending : steve forces himself to attend a house party in order to prove that he’s not a total loser, whilst jade goes to make some quick cash. it’s a shame they can’t be in the same room without the tension between them boiling over.
⟢ chief of interruptions : the two times jim hopper catches steve and jade together before the summer of ‘85.
⟢ smoker’s delight : jade brings weed to a hook up sesh with steve, not expecting him to be so willing to try some. or jade gives steve head for the first time. ✧
