𝜗୧ ICE CREAM BOY | Steve Harrington
Based of the request of @sjskswhata here
𝜗୧ pairings - Steve Harrington x sinclair!reader
𝜗୧ summary - Erica has been dragging you to the Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor everyday of the summer. While there, a certain ice cream scooper has taken a liking to you.
𝜗୧ warnings - just fluff, Steve being an idiot, reader is referred to by Sinclair, sassy reader
𝜗୧ a/n - this took longer than expected as I’ve been having issues lately plus spending time with family and my first job. So sorry for the wait! - Written in a series of events -
♪ Now Playing - Raspberry Beret by Prince + Head over Heels by Tears for Fears
Every day for the past 3 weeks your little sister, Erica, has dragged you to the Starcourt Mall’s Scoops Ahoy ice cream parlor. One of Starcourt’s many new offerings of relaxation and fun for the mall’s new and numerous patrons. It was a perfect treat for the residents of Hawkins. A distraction for all the weird and eerie happenings in the past few years.
Your sister’s fancy for sugar and love for pissing you off is what fuels her insistence on you taking her. Along with the fact no one else would put up with her attitude for the summer.
With the freedom of your own car and no responsibilities for the summer other than looking at colleges and your siblings, you had no choice in the matter. You were stuck with Erica for the summer regardless.
The summer was already annoying enough with Hawkins’ oppressive heat, dry conditions and lack of nice places to cool off. The shiny and bright new mall gave you and your sister just enough compromise for the summer to be civilized. Her plans of buying ice cream every day with her friends were a great way of you relaxing for the summer. Especially without the constant nag of your parents.
The nagging would just be done by Erica in this case. A bit of a win lose situation.
Going to the mall with your sister wasn’t all that bad. It had its many upsides such as seeing cute guys, window shopping, staying cool indoors, and not being around your parents. The only downside was having to be there with Erica 24/7. Whether it was her sassing you or her annoying and even sassier friends, she always found a way to work your nerve. The Scoops Ahoy of all places was the only thing keeping you from snapping.
With the new responsibility of babysitting, you grew familiar with the only employees at the parlor who seemed to work there. Robin, the sarcastic brunette who bantered back and forth with your sister, was the scooper you primarily saw. She made small conversation with you everytime you visited. Either over your disdain for Erica or some other teenage complaints you both had.
The two of you had common interests even with your differences on the social ladder. You on the higher end and her not so much. Regardless of social standing you grew to like her quickly.
On the other hand, you weren’t as familiar with the other scooper. He was someone you occasionally heard of but never interacted with. Steve the Hair Harrington. Hawkins High royalty. A king of parties and a heartthrob to many. He was Hawkins’s favorite golden boy.
Erica always described him as an airheaded dweeb. Solely because of how easy it was to get him to bend to her will. Along with his corny and dorky character.
Your friends would always rave on and on about how dreamy Steve was or how majestically his hair would naturally flow. He seemed like a total ass outside of his looks and charm. Which wasn’t that far off the bat. Howbeit, he was a new and changed man with a different perspective on life and everything that it entailed.
With that new and improved perspective, Steve was now working part time and no longer the same chick magnet he was in his glory days…
The last place you would’ve expected to see Steve Harrington was at some mall ice cream shop. You expected him to be living it grand off daddy’s money or whatever it was people like him did.
Your first interaction was awkward. On his part, truthfully.
It was the fifth day of you taking Erica to the mall. As of routine, Erica walked straight to the ice cream parlor with a mission and you slowly following behind. Her 5 little quarters shoved in her overall pocket jingled together as she strutted through the parlor. You followed behind with your wallet in hand. Rummaging for change to buy yourself something.
Maybe you’d try the mint chocolate ice cream this time. It always seemed to do Erica well anyhow. Your usual was getting a little overplayed after your 4 days of eating it.
“Must you walk so slowly?” Erica murmurs as she pushes through the parlor’s doors. You scoff as you pull out a dollar. With your head held down, you stayed behind Erica. The bell alerted one of the scoopers to greet you, something you quickly became used to. You were fully expectant of hearing one of Robin’s sarcastic quips or complaints upon your sister’s arrival as per usual. Unlike routine, it was a different voice you heard. You peer over to be met with a new yet familiar face.
“Welcome to Scoops Ahoy…yada yada, you get the gist.” His eyes focus on the shiny handle of the scooper as he leans against the counter with an expression of pure boredom.
Erica slaps her 5 quarters on the counter which causes him to jump back out of annoyance. You finally get to look him in the eye as he almost opens his mouth to tell your sister off. His whole demeanor changes once he lays eyes on you.
His mouth is partly agape as he holds the ice cream scooper with a dumbfounded expression. You stand there with the perfect silhouette of a magazine babe. Your hair is perfectly curled with a voluminous shape and a summer outfit that accentuates everything that makes you absolutely mouth watering.
Steve can't help but gawk at you with his eyes. You're ridiculously perfect. More perfect than any other girl he’s seen this stupid summer.
You look back at him with an awkward half smile. Erica crosses her arms as she raises her brow and looks between the two of you. She dings the bell repeatedly until Steve snaps out of his trance. “Uh, hello? Are you gonna do your job or do I have to go behind the counter?”
“Right, right.” He grabs a nearby cup and sets it infront of the ice cream buffet. His eyes shift back and forth on you and the ice cream. He can feel his pulse racing at the mere sight of your smile.
“Mint chocolate with extra chips, and don’t forget my chocolate shavings. I know you like to ration with your servings…” She tightens her vision on him as he slides over to the mint chocolate tray. He looks up at you and smiles. “Haven’t seen your face before. What can I get you? We’ve got vanilla, chocolate, rocky road-” he lists the items off with his fingers.
You cut him off. “Just cookies n’ cream and make it a medium cone, please.” He nods as he spins the scooper in his hand, hoping to impress you even with such a medicore trick. You don’t notice. You're much too busy paying attention to Erica’s spiel of why mint chocolate’s the best.
With a roll of your eyes you cross your arms and look over to Steve, who's fixated on the position of his hat whilst scooping. You could tell how much he hated the uniform by the way he kept cringing and moving about. It suited him but was still dorky at its core.
He serves up Erica’s ice cream first and slides it over the counter. “There you go. With your extra chocolate shavings too.” his voice is gruff and sarcastic. Erica takes it in hand and inspects it before nodding. “This’ll do.” She takes a broad lick of the treat.
“Y’know, if it wasn't for your naivety of thinking I wouldn't want you to pay me back,” She licks another long stripe of her ice cream before looking up at you. “I don't think I'd be having this much fun.”
You scoff before nudging her to the side. Steve clears his throat. “Your cookies n’ cream, ma'am. I mean…”
“Sinclair, is just fine,” you squint toward his name tag even though you already knew his name. “Steve.”
He lights up as soon as you voice his name. “Yea, yea, of course. Happy to be your sailor today.” He crosses his arms, trying to appear nonchalant as if the mere utterance of his name from your lips didn’t have his entire body giddy.
“See you Sinclairs next time.” He nods his head as he watches you saunter out the door with ice cream in hand. Erica is further off skipping away.
He holds his face in his hand as he watches you talk to Erica near the mall fountain. He whispers to himself “Shes like a royal princess…”
Robin opens the shutters with a creak that jolts Steve up. “Is that one to six or zero to seven?” She’s propped upon the ledge of the frame as she pulls out the white board.
“Shouldnt you be on break?” Steve turns around to lean against the counter, his hands fidgeting to pull at his uniform.
“Well it's hard to relax when all I can hear is your awful attempts at picking up girls.” She adds another tally to the ‘you suck’ side.
He scoffs before moving towards the window frame. “I dont know, Robin. I think she was totally digging me.” He moves over to wipe the tally away with his finger.
“Referring to you by your name isn’t,” she air quotes “digging.” She flashes a smile before placing the tally back. “Infact, I would infer that it was basic decency. Maybe pity for that uniform.”
With a suck of his teeth he grabs the shutters and slams them closed in Robin’s face.
“Pity– The hell does she know?”
Another group of customers walk in. “Ahoy there!” he turns with a bright eyed smile
The next week of Scoops Ahoy visits were filled with awkward stares and small talk. You’d occasionally entertain casual compliments with a flutter of the lashes or a flirtatious giggle whilst still keeping him on his toes.
He'd have to play the long game with you.
You became aware of the way he'd tilt his hat before you walked through the shop doors with Erica, or how sometimes he'd just ditch the hat altogether. He had to show off his best assets, right?
He'd hear the ring of the bell and quickly look up to see if it was his favorite customers. Even with your constant routine of coming in at 2, he’d still look up just to see if he could spot your pig tailed sister, skipping further ahead of you.
It took you a while to come around to Steve’s harmless flirting, especially with your sister’s unbidden scorn for Steve. Erica made her distaste for whatever you and Steve had going on very loud and clear. Whether it was a roll of the eyes or an exaggerative gag whenever Steve began to compliment you, Erica was having none of it. Yet, she’d put up with it if it meant Scoops Ahoy for the summer.
You understood her dislike for him though. Steve seemed like an absolute idiot. He was uncoordinated, corny, and just…eh, but he was also handsome. Very handsome. A handsome that had you gushing over him late in the night. To a point you’d have to shake yourself out of your daydreams about him. He also had this goofy charm to him. It was unfairly endearing.
Your little crush was embarrassing. You became more aware of your appearance and eager to impress him. Not like you needed to, anyhow, but in the sense you weren't leaving without him complimenting something new about you.
It definitely worked as you thought it would. He'd perk up at the sight of a new makeup look or a new outfit. You were high-maintenance perfection.
The days blurred into a slow and sweet torturous routine of teasing. Today was no different. You strutted in with a burgundy striped top, high waisted denim shorts, and your hair loosely tousled and teased like you just spent the afternoon with the windows down in your convertible.
That familiar chime of the bell at 2:15 reminds Steve to straighten up for his favorite patrons. Only this time, he can't help but be taken aback by your natural poise. He drops the scooper mid twirl but quickly recovers. Reflexes from playing basketball he'd tell you.
“Ahoy, to the sailor’s favorite customers.” his voice is pitched with practiced customer service enthusiasm. He tugs on the brim of his hat, then immediately pushes it back up, as if he couldn't decide whether it made him look dorky or charming. It was a mix of both, but you loved it.
Erica’s eyes roll so hard to the point it's audible. She gags before moving in front of you. “Here we go again.” You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, sliding up to the counter while Erica wanders over to inspect the flavor buffet like she hadn't memorized it weeks ago.
Steve leans forward on his elbows, forearms flexing just enough to tighten the rolled sleeves of his sailor shirt, all his attention on you. “So…new look today, Sinclair.” His gaze flicks over you appreciatively, not sleazy, just obvious. You toss your hair behind you for that dramatic edge.
You flutter your lashes in a way you know makes his brain short-circuit. “This? I just threw it on.” you say as you look down at your outfit. Total lie, you spent about ten minutes deciphering between stripes and baby yellow.
“Threw it on.” He repeats it as if it's an unbelievable scientific fact. “Yeah, and I just woke up looking this good in a sailor outfit.” He gestures dramatically to the whole ridiculous ensemble, the red handkerchief, and the tiny boat shorts. He lets out a tiny self-deprecating laugh.
Erica quietly sucks her teeth from beside you. She mutters. “Gross.”
Steve shoots a mock-offended look towards your sister. “Hey, I’m working here. Art takes time.”
You genuinely laugh before covering your mouth. It was a sound that made something warm flicker behind Steve’s eyes. The ability to get a real and hearty laugh from you has him beaming from head to toe. He straightens up, suddenly focused on scooping your usual orders, but stealing glances in the meantime.
When he slides the cups over, his hand purposely brushes over yours. Just a graze. Barely anything, but it still sent a spark up your hand anyway.
“On the house,” he says it quietly, like it's a secret only the two of you should know. “for making my shifts actually bearable.”
You raise a brow, spoon already in hand. “Careful, Harrington–.” You raise a scoop to your mouth. “People might think you’re getting soft.”
He smirks before leaning in just close enough for you to catch the faint smell of ice cream and whatever cologne he uses under his polyester uniform. “Only for the right one, of course.”
Erica nudges at your side like an annoying weed. “Okay, Juliet, were leaving before a full-on proposal happens here.” She takes you by the arm and begins to drag you out of the store.
You let her drag you, but not before turning around to flash Steve one last teasing smile and wave. One that promised you'd be back the next day for more.
He watches you go with his hat tilted and his uniform somewhat askew.
As the door jingled shut from behind you, Robin finally pokes her head out from the back room before walking up beside Steve.
“Youre utterly hopeless. You know that?”
“Utterly.” he doesn't even bothering turning his head, too fixated on where you were just standing and the way you laughed at his joke. “She smiled at me. It's progress.”
Robin snorts before patting his shoulder. “You’re so whipped it's almost impressive.”
He glances over before fully turning around. “Shut up, I'm playing the long game here.”
“But is she playing the same game?”
“Yea…I mean I think she is.” He turns back around before placing his head in his hands, totally moping now.
On your fourth week of ice cream escapades, you’re pushing through the glass doors with an extra boost of confidence and prissiness. Fresh manicure, blowout, and a new outfit.
It was weekly routine by now. Glam up over the weekend and come by the mall to absolutely wow Steve. Not like you needed to. You just liked the way you could visibly see his jaw drop in awe of you.
“Well, ahoy there.” He tilts his head towards you with a flirtatious smirk. Erica cuts him off with a snap of the wrist. “Save the boat routine, sailor. Just give me my mint n’ chocolate and spare me of this god awful train wreck.”
He scoffs and you roll your eyes. You push Erica out of the way to stand right in front of Steve. You open your mouth before Steve cuts you off.
“Lemme guess, medium cookies n’ cream.” He looks back at you as he prepares your cone. “Well, what if I wanted to change it up this time?” you pitch your voice in mock offense. He chuckles before sliding over to the ice cream buffet.
“Change it up on your fourth week here? Doubt it.” He plops a fat scoop of mint chocolate into Erica’s cup before handing it to her over the glass.
“Finally… I’m meeting Tina by the fountain before I throw up with you two.” Erica skips out the store with her hair beads running right with her.
Steve looks at her and then back at you. This was his moment.
“I like your hair. It’s very–bouncy. Pretty of course too.” His fingers patter against the counter as he awaits your response with a hung smile.
You pat your curls with a notice of its exaggerated bounce. Glad someone took notice of your hard work. A slight blush rises to your cheeks as you meet his gaze, but you shake it aside.
“Yeah, I know.” You admire your reflection in the protective glass of the flavor buffet. He raises his eyebrows with a slight pout of the lip. You pop your lips before flipping your hair behind you. It was almost reminiscent of a Farrah Fawcett advert. Well, to Steve at least.
“Alrighty–” his eyes widen as he continues to ring you up.
“That'll be a buck twenty-five.” You place the money on the counter before taking the cone from his hand. Your fingers momentarily brush against one another for what feels like a century to Steve.
It was moments like these that made Steve grateful for his dad forcing him to work at the mall.
You flash that same smug little smile, then turn on your heel like you’re about to leave.
“Wait—” He’s halfway over the counter before he remembers he’s not supposed to do that.
You pause, a faint little smile on your face. He had finally mustered up the courage. Today was the day. You slowly turn around, ice cream firmly in hand.
“Are you free next weekend?” he raises his voice a bit. You stand still with ——-. “Like, to see a movie or something?”
You walk back over to the counter. “No, busy that weekend.” You look down at your fresh manicure, appearing yourself to look bored. He nods in reply before pouting his lips.
A moment of silence passes between the two of you. You cock your head back up at him, earrings jingling as you do so. “You’re not gonna ask why I’m busy?” you say, one perfectly arched brow lifting.
Steve’s mouth twitches. “Would you actually tell me?”
“Maybe.” You lick a stripe up the side of your cookies n’ cream cone. “If you say ‘pretty please’ first.”
He snorts before he can stop himself. “You’re evil.” He grins despite himself, a wide and boyish one. The one that used to melt half the cheer squad. Except you’re not melting. You’re just… watching. Like you’re waiting for him to trip over his own ego.
“Okay,” he says, straightening up and brushing invisible lint off his stupid Scoops Ahoy sailor shirt. “Pretty please… tell me why you’re so– busy to grace me with your presence next weekend.” His tone is playful and teasing. He’s working overtime into charming you.
You hum, considering. Then you step closer to the counter, so close he can smell the vanilla in your hairspray and the faint coconut of whatever expensive body oil you definitely didn’t buy at the mall.
“I’m getting my nails done. Again. Because the salon girl finally figured out how to do the Frenchie right. Then I have a hair appointment—three hours, no compromises. And then, college tours with my dad.”
He hums. “Sounds more eventful than what I’ve got going on.” He shakes his head before continuing on.
“But, uh, I have an important work meeting to attend that weekend anyway, so how about the weekend after that.” He’s desperately grasping at straws to avoid rejection. “What about that?”
“Oh, yea? And– take me to see what movie?”
“Back to the Future, with all the concession food you can ask for.” He leans in with this mischievous smile on his face. “Or whatever movie you– want to see.”
“No eight-year old dictator, stupid ice cream uniform, or Scoops Ahoy lines.” “Just you, me, and a giant iMax screen.”
“Sounds very tempting…” you tap your finger at your cheek as you pretend to ponder the idea. Your ice cream begins to slowly drip down the cone.
You get a chuckle out of him. “Tempting?” He leans further towards you with his brows furrowed.
“Yea— tempting. Not fully sold on the idea.” You state with a shrug of your shoulders as if it’s so obvious.
He scoffs. “Well, what if I throw in the fact I’ll pick you up.”
You look up at him with a grin. “It’s a date then, Harrington.”
“Wow–“ he abruptly clears his throat, almost in disbelief you actually agreed to a date. He stands upright, showing you he’s more serious. “So what time?”
“No later, no earlier. You’ll wait for me at the door.”
“Okay, so it’s a date.” He shrugs his shoulder as to let the word ‘date’ linger in the air.
You grin before tossing your hair behind you.“Do you have a pen and paper?”
“For my number and address, silly.”
“Shit, you’re right.” He scrambles against the counter before ducking down to look within the cabinets for a writing utensil of some sort. He’d be damned if he left without your number.
You eat the rest of your ice cream in the meantime, peeking over the counter to see Steve scrambling within the cabinets.
After a moment of crinkling papers and the shuffling of boxes, Steve pops back up with a pen and sticky note in hand. He slides them over the counter with a keen smile on his face.
You bend down a bit to the counters level to write on the piece of paper. Your hair swivels over your shoulder in a cascade of waves. The layers of hair perfectly frame your face from Steve’s line of view.
You truly do look like a royal princess, or maybe some angel from up above that was sent just to tantalize him with the glimpses of perfection. It was no matter anyway, the fact you were standing infront him and agreeing to a date no less was enough for him.
Standing back up, you promptly place the notepad and pen back in his hand with the most feather light of teasing touches.
“Thanks,” he shoves the notepad in the pocket of his shorts before looking back at you. He stands and stares for a moment longer than necessary, as if in utter disbelief he could actually pull you.
“Hey, don’t lose it.” You say sweetly, snapping him out of his short term trance.
He chuckles before patting his pockets “Wouldn’t even dare to.” He doesn’t even try to hide the grin stretching across his face.
“Seven-thirty,” he repeats, like he’s committing it to memory in case the sticky note somehow disappears from hand. “And I knock. I don’t honk.”
You tilt your head approvingly. “Good. Because if you honk, I’m not coming out.”
He places a hand dramatically over his heart. “Sinclair, I’d never.”
You give him a look that clearly says you absolutely think he would.
He exhales through his nose, rocking back on his heels. “Okay, maybe old me would’ve. But new and improved me? Total gentleman.”
“New and improved?” you echo, amused.
“Yeah.” He gestures vaguely to himself. “I have layers now.”
You cheese as you begin to rock on your heels. “Like an onion?”
“Yes, like a very charming onion.” he corrects, dead serious.
You laugh again, softer this time– and it does something unfair to his confidence. He straightens, rolling his shoulders like he just won a championship game in high school.
“You better not be late,” you warn, walking backwards to the door.
“I won’t,” he says immediately. “I’ll be early.”
You narrow your eyes but slowing down your already slow pace. “Not too early.”
“Seven-twenty-eight,” he counters.
You pretend to consider it, tapping your manicured nail against your chin. “Seven-twenty-nine.”
There’s a beat where neither of you move. The mall hums around you— distant chatter, the fountain splashing somewhere beyond the glass, and the low drone of air conditioning.
He leans forward slightly, lowering his voice just a touch. “You know… I was starting to think you were just gonna keep me on a leash all summer.”
“Oh, I was,” you reply smoothly. “You just finally did something about it.” Maybe he finally caught on to the game you were playing this summer.
He lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “You’re so unreal.”
“And you,” you glance down at his uniform pointedly, “are still wearing that.” The whole get up speaks for itself in its absurdity.
He looks down at himself like he forgot. “Just a temporary workplace setback.” He shrugs his shoulders before looking up to smile at you.
“Mhm.” You nod your head as you take appreciation to his face. The stupid uniform truly made it difficult to see how handsome he was sometimes.
“Don’t worry,” he says quickly. “Next weekend? No sailor hat. No shorts. Just me.”
You raise a brow. “You sure you can handle that? No costume to hide behind?”
He leans across the counter again, closer this time— close enough that you can see the tiny flecks of green in his hazel eyes.
“I don’t need a costume.”
The confidence lands differently now. Not cocky. Not rehearsed.Just steady.
Your stomach does an annoying little flip. You step back before he can see it on your face and inwardly gloat about it. “We’ll see.”
You push open the glass door, the bell chiming overhead. Warm air hits your skin as you step back into the mall corridor.
You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “See you next weekend, Harrington.”
The door shuts and this time, he doesn’t just stare after you in a daze he moves instead. He grabs the sticky note out of his pocket immediately, unfolding it like it’s some sacred artifact. Your name. Your number. Your address.
He reads it once. Then again.
Then presses it flat against the counter like he’s afraid it might disappear. His finger drags over the perfectly looped cursive letters in your name and address. Your handwriting almost looked regal, princess-y.
Was everything about you this perfect?
He takes in extra moment to take in the realness of the moment. Sure, he’s done this a hundred of times, but the process with you was way different and real.
A couple of customers shuffle in behind him, clearing their throats.
He spins around a little too fast. “Ahoy!” he blurts, voice cracking slightly before he coughs and lowers it. “Sorry— hi. What can I get you?”
Written with this somewhat in mind - “steve with a gf that's just as high maintenance as him. steve with a gf that does her hair perfectly every morning and refuses to let anyone else touch it, including steve. steve with a gf who yells at him when he tracks dirt into her car when he rides passenger. steve with a gf who looks at every reflective item to fix her hair/outfit/makeup. steve with a gf who CAN MATCH HIS PRISSY ASS ATTITUDE!!! I AM TIRED OF SHY!READER PLEASE.”
2nd a/n: Yes, yes, after a month plus of procrastinating and being swamped with life- I’ve finally posted a new story!! I hope I can clear my schedule to make time for this hobby but I’m truly not someone who comes up with ideas for writing like that. Writers block is unfortunately my biggest enemy when it comes to upkeeping this page but I’m still determined to post nonetheless.
The amount of time it genuinely took me to take this request is embarrassing. Life if lifeing so hard rn. I genuinely might have the writers curse or something.
Thanks for reading and I hoped you love this! Will be posting pt2 of red handed sooner or later. Was too lazy n sick to write them on their date :|
