one of the older kids (boy ot girl), one of their friends hits on reader? or maybe a dad from daycare or something!
wanna see if Steve would agree and then get angry that the friend/man is flirting with his wife
write it however you like! and how you think Steve (and kids maybe) would react!
Summary: Steve knows youâre gorgeous, but it doesnât stop him from being all pouty when other men (and one bold teenager) who arenât him flirt with you.
WC: 4.7k
Warnings & What to Expect: hargrove!fem!reader, jealous & possessive Steve (in a healthy way), men/ teenager flirting with reader (which reader pointedly ignores), protective husband trope, kids teasing Steve for being down bad for reader.
Harrington Household Masterlist
currently writing this series based on requests, so if you have any ideas - please feel free to send them my way đ«¶đ»
tysm to everyone showing love on my works - it means the world. requests are open! feel free to send anything Steve or Gator Tillman related and I can certainly try my best đ«Ą
need a man like steve to call me gorgeous —ïž
âDamn, youâre looking fine, Mrs. Harrington,â a voice calls out from the living room as you make your way down the stairs.
Your eyes widen at the words; left hand pausing mid air while attempting to put your last earring in since your toddler is being firmly held up with your right hand - propping her up on your hip.
Youâre completely caught off guard from what the teenager sitting on the couch next to your oldest son just said to you.
Thereâs a collective intake of breath around the lower level of the house - all eyes flashing to Steve for his reaction, whoâs frozen by the front door - looking like heâs absolutely ready to strangle the kid.
Your eldest boy looks horrified at his friendâs comment while your oldest girl whoâs sitting at the kitchen island working on homework looks disgusted. Your ten year old twins who are lounging on the living room floor pause the board game theyâre playing - sensing the sudden tension in the room.
Your four year old boy who was trailing the stairs behind you slams into your legs- not expecting you to have stopped. It causes you to stumble as youâre still two steps above the floor.
You panic instantly, worried about face planting with your youngest babe in your hands - but Steveâs there in a heartbeat, hands slithering around your waist to steady you. The movement forces you into his chest, lone earring clattering to the floor and your boy falls to his butt behind you.
âYou alright, baby?â Steve murmurs gently by the shell of your ear, and you nod slightly - pressing your lips to his in a sweet kiss of thanks.
Your boy thatâs fallen on the stairs starts crying at the impact, and Steve carefully lets go of you to scoop him up into his arms.
âWhy are you crying buddy? Youâre the one who nearly steamrolled into Mommy,â Steve teases lightly, thumbs already brushing away his boyâs tears.
âThat scared you, huh?â You ask him tenderly, rubbing at his back - knowing heâs physically fine, just startled.
He sniffles and nods, hiding his face in his daddyâs neck.
Your middle girl pushes herself off the floor, comes over and grabs the earring you dropped, âDo you want me to put this in for you?â
âThat would be great, babe, thanks,â you smile at her, and she climbs the stairs to stand behind you - securing the piece of jewelry in place.
She steps back before grinning, âYou look beautiful, Mommy.â
âShe always does, doesnât she?â Steve agrees, pressing a kiss to your jaw.
Your girl nods before hugging you from behind, âDo you have to go tonight?â
You pat her hands that are linked around your middle, âWe shouldnât be out too late, sweetheart.â
You and Steve were headed to Hawkins High for a banquet that the graduating class of â85 was hosting. Youâd honestly rather stay in and spend time with your babes, but with Steve being a teacher at the middle school, it was expected that he be in attendance.
Steve looks particularly handsome in his dress pants that hug his legs perfectly, paired with a white long sleeve button up and black tie wrapped loosely around the neckline. If you were alone, you wouldnât have let him leave the house without getting a taste of the skin thatâs exposed at his neck.
Youâre practically drooling over him, and the reality of the moment comes crashing back when your oldest boyâs friend stands up from the couch, hands tucked into his pockets and compliments your appearance again.
âI mean really, that dress is killer on you,â he smirks, and Steveâs mouth drops open at the audacity.
You put a hand on Steveâs shoulder, trying to ground him - reminding him not to make any rash decisions.
Steve clears his throat, âIâm sorry, what did you just say about my wife?â
You bite your lip in amusement, because heâs defending your honor against a hormonal teenager that canât get his emotions in check.
At Steveâs voice, the kid looks a bit meek, but not lacking total confidence when he says, âLike you look great, Mrs. H, stunning even.â
Steve turns to you with a baffled expression before whispering, âIs he serious right now?â
You huff out a disbelieving laugh, âSteve, heâs a child.â
âBullsh-,â he cuts himself off, remembering the two littles in both of your arms, âHeâs seventeen. Heâs old enough to know what heâs saying, baby,â he grumbles quietly.
His eyes flick over to the boy - standing there awkwardly now, since itâs obvious that youâre purposefully avoiding his praises, âOught to teach him a lesson about how to treat women since his parents clearly havenât done it.â
But Steve doesnât need to do that, because your oldest boy is already on it, âDude, are you, are you flirting with my mom?â
âNo! No, definitely not,â but the way heâs spluttering the words proves otherwise.
âYou totally were,â your girl calls out from the kitchen.
Your twins start giggling at the absurdity of it, and Steve watches proudly as his son reams into his friend.
âThatâs my mom, man. Have some respect,â he chides angrily, folding his arms across his chest.
The boyâs mouth flounders, embarrassed now at being called out, âUh, sorry Mrs. H, Mr. H. Iâm just, yeah, Iâm gonna go.â
He scrabbles for the exit, leaving the rest of you stunned at the ridiculousness of what just happened.
âGreat choice in friends,â Steve quips, raising his eyebrows at your boy.
Your boy defends himself, âHow was I supposed to know he was going to say that? You do look really pretty, by the way, Mom.â
You smile, âThanks, hun.â
âSeriously though, donât think I want you inviting him back over here,â Steve mumbles, and you laugh lightly before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
With your free hand, you reach up to brush back some of the strands of hair fighting to fall into his eyes, âNo need to be all pouty about it, baby.â
âIâm not being pouty, I just donât need a bunch of teenage boys thinking itâs okay to hit on you,â he says with a frown still on his face.
You smile fondly at him, swiping your thumb over the creases that his drawn in eyebrows are making.
âWhatever you say, babe,â you tease, before walking into the kitchen.
Steve falls quiet as his eyes wander the expanse of your legs as you move, appreciating the view of the tight dress hugging your curves.
âDad,â your oldest scolds when he realizes what Steveâs doing.
âWhat?â Steve snaps out of it, recognizing that heâs been caught, âDonât give me that look. Iâm allowed to check out my wife.â
You hand your toddler off to your oldest girl, who puts up a brief fight at you letting her go. You watch your girl bounce and console her younger sister easily - effectively distracting her.
âAre you sure you and your brother got this? The babysitter said she was free tonight,â you ask again, wanting to double check.
The plan was never to purposefully have children with such large age gaps.
Steveâs plan was to always have six if youâd let him, but yours was to take it one at a time before deciding if you wanted more since you had once been unsure about children. When you had your oldest though, you immediately knew you wanted another when you took one look at him - at seeing this perfect little being that you and your husband had created together.
Then your eldest girl came next, and you were pretty sure two was enough - but life happens, and years later your twins came along with the rest of the littles; and soon six Harrington children were filling up the space in your home and the crevices in your heart.
People often joked that the age gap meant free babysitting services - which never failed to make you frustrated for your oldest two, because that was definitely not their responsibility.
You were grateful however, that you had children who loved their siblings deeply. It meant that sometimes your teenagers wanted to take care of the younger babes for you without you having to ask.
âWeâve got it, Mom,â your oldest boy confirms, whoâs now holding your youngest boy after taking him from Steve.
Steve catches the emotion clouding your eyes at seeing them together and curls you into his chest - giving you a tight squeeze of affection.
âSee, baby? Told you theyâd be fine,â Steve hugs you closely, before steering you towards the door - trying to get you out before you change your mind about leaving them. You hug the twins goodbye, pressing a kiss to each of their heads.
âCall us if you need-,â you start, but are interrupted by your oldest girl.
âAnything, we know. Now go, before she starts throwing a hissy fit about you two leaving,â she jokes, stroking softly at her sister's hair.
You finish saying goodbye to all of your kids, and Steve starts tugging your hand to pull you into the night air.
âReally, if you need anything, call,â Steve echoes your previous words.
Once youâre settled in Steveâs truck, you watch as your babes wave to you through the front window, and you lean over the middle console to place a hand lovingly on Steveâs knee.
âGod, how did we get so lucky, Steve?â You wonder out loud.
âYou mean how did I get so lucky? Shit baby, have you looked in the mirror today?â He says playfully, grabbing your hand that rests on his knee to bring it to his lips.
âSteve,â you smile warmly, feeling the familiar flush of heat creep up your neck.
âKinda just wanna rip that dress off you and skip this damn thing,â he kisses the palm of your hand, before littering kisses up the span of your arm.
âThat would be a lot more fun,â you hum out, savoring the feeling of his lips on your skin.
Steve turns to face you, âDonât threaten me with a good time, honey.â
He drops his head into the crook of your neck, gently nipping at the skin there and you whimper at the touch.
âProbably shouldnât be on the verge of making out when our kids are still watching,â you tease, eyes cutting to the window to see the oldest two trying to shield the eyes of your youngest ones.
You cup Steveâs chin, tilting his head so he can look at the sight, which makes laughter spill from those pretty pink lips of his.
âYouâre right, we should probably go park down the street first before making out,â he smiles coyly at you.
You push lightly in jest at him, âJust start the car, babe.â
Steve places one last kiss at the sweet spot below your ear before backing out the driveway, âYes, maâam.â
The banquet was in full swing, and you and Steve were currently taking a break from the buzz of constant socializing when you make eye contact with Tommy Hagan from across the gym.
âOh, god,â you mumble under your breath.
Neither of you had seen him since senior year, as Steve had cut off contact with the guy completely, but heard that he left Hawkins and dropped Carol Perkins along the way.
Tommy immediately grins wickedly, before stalking closer to you and Steve.
âWhatâs wrong, honey?â Steve inquires, arm tightening around your waist.
Your hand thatâs hooked around his bicep grips a little tighter, âIncoming.â
Steve follows your gaze and groans in annoyance - doesnât want to have to deal with the onslaught of surface level questions Tommy will have.
âHarrington! Good to see you, man. Whatâs it been, like twenty years since graduation? And Hargrove, looking good as always,â Tommy sends a wink your way.
You smile tightly, pressing yourself closer to your husband - uncomfortable with the way Tommyâs eyes drag up and down your figure.
âHey, Tommy. Yeah, itâs been a while,â Steve forces a small smile, hand thatâs on your hip holding you a bit more protectively.
âDidnât realize the two of you were together,â Tommy notices the way Steveâs arm tucks you towards him.
You hum in acknowledgment, before flashing your left hand at him, allowing him to see the rock next to the wedding band that rests on your ring finger.
âOh shit, so youâre like together, together,â Tommyâs eyes widened.
The phrase makes you want to laugh, because not only have you been married for seventeen years, but youâve got six children at home to show for the life youâve built together.
âMhmm,â you nod politely, and Steve canât help but place a possessive kiss to your temple at seeing the way Tommyâs eyes linger on you.
They catch up briefly - jobs, sports, reminiscing about high school. The topic of kids doesnât come up, which isnât surprising because Tommy has been droning on and on about his bachelor lifestyle in Indianapolis.
Thereâs a sudden commotion as a few of Steveâs previous students run up to him; in high school now themselves and are at the event to get volunteer hours with their clubs.
âUh, sorry to interrupt Coach Steve, but Ms. Kelley asked us to move some tables and we could use help,â one of the boys asks.
Itâs clear Steveâs fighting an internal battle, doesnât want to say no to the kids but also doesnât want to leave you alone.
âYou good, honey?â Steve checks with you.
Tommy answers for you, âSheâll be fine, man. Iâll keep her company.â
Which is exactly what Steve doesnât want. He ignores the comment, staring intently at you.
âGo help, babe. Iâll be okay,â you assure him, lifting your hand to cup his jaw - thumb brushing delicately against his cheek.
His eyes close briefly at the touch, still hesitating - not sure what to do.
âCome on, donât leave them hanging, Stevie,â Tommy throws the nickname in as a jab - knew that Steve hated it in high school; which he still does, unless youâre the one saying it.
Steveâs decidedly ticked off with Tommy and makes a point to shut him up by kissing you. He leans forward to slot his lips with yours, pulling you to him by clasping his hands behind your lower back.
You instantly wrap your arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of him pressing his mouth eagerly to yours which makes your head fizzy - bubbles of want pooling in your stomach.
âIâll be right back, baby,â he breathes out, nose nudging yours, kisses you one last time before going to help the high schoolers.
Tommy stands there a little awkwardly, and you hoped maybe heâd scram after that public display of affection, but he seems to be like a roach you canât squash.
You watch Steve hopelessly from across the room, desperate for him to come back to you quickly - tired of making small talk with Tommy.
âYou and Harrington are pretty serious then?â Tommy wonders.
âYep,â you reply, tone clipped.
âBut I mean, you know he was never the settle down type of guy, right?â Tommy goads, referring to the âKing Steveâ era.
You huff a breath of irritation - hating that people still put Steve in a box when they know nothing about him anymore, âHe was never like that, Tommy. He just needed the right person to love him.â
Tommy barks a laugh, âAnd thatâs you?â
You narrow your eyes into slits at him, blood starting to boil at his flippancy, âWhy donât you ask my six children?â
He chokes on his drink, inhaling it wrong at the shock of that information, âAnd youâre sure theyâre all his?â
âOh my god, youâre still a pig you know that?â You lash out, turning to storm away, but he follows you.
âCome on, didnât mean it like that, princess,â he calls out, and you freeze at the name he once taunted you with.
You whip around and seethe, âDo not, ever, call me that again.â
Tommy raises his hands up, âWoah, just trying to make conversation. No need to be so defensive.â
You glare at him, arms crossed, breathing angrily.
âIâm sorry, really. I guess Iâm just a little envious," he shrugs.
âEnvious?â You ask in disbelief.
âI mean, yeah. Being honest with you, I totally had a thing for you in high school. I just never acted on it because of you know, Billy,â he trails off before continuing, âAnd seeing you here with my old best friend of all people, guess it just shocked the hell out of me.â
He actually kind of looks bummed out, which makes you feel just a tiny bit guilty - but then he instantly ruins it when he takes advantage of your quietness.
Tommy steps forward, âDonât you ever think about it?â
âThink about what?â You inquire, confusion lacing your tone.
âMe and you?â He asks smugly, obviously out of touch with reality.
âNo, I donât. Iâm happily married,â you refute.
âSure, but like donât you ever get bored?â He tries to get you to crack.
You grit your teeth, âSteve loves me, and I love him. What are you not getting about that?â
Tommy steps into your personal bubble, hand sliding down your arm, grabbing onto your wrist, âYou know, if I had the balls to ask you out back then, things wouldâve been different.â
Your jaw drops at his gall, âThey would not be, now let go of me.â
âAdmit it, Hargrove. I couldâve made you just as happy,â he replies cockily, and you just about slap him in the face for that when you thankfully feel Steveâs arm snake around your shoulder.
âItâs Harrington, now get your hands off my wife,â Steve roughly bites out, thoroughly done with Tommyâs gross behavior after watching him stalk you from across the gym.
Tommy drops your arm swiftly, âJust making sure she was okay, man.â
âNo, you were trying to make a move on a married woman, real classy,â Steve snorts in aggravation.
Steve doesnât give Tommy the opportunity to reply, simply guides you away - heading straight for the exit sign.
âWait, Steve, donât you have to be here?â You ask, trying to get him to stop.
âDonât care. Not letting you stay anywhere near that pathetic creep any longer,â Steve breathes out sharply through his nose.
He shoves the doors open, hightailing it out of the school, and youâre struggling to keep up in your high heels.
âBabe, slow down, please,â you plead, clutching onto his arm.
Steve notices youâre straggling behind, and he makes the split decision to haul you up in his arms.
He crouches slightly, swiftly brings his left arm up and under your thighs, while his right arm secures itself around your back.
Your arms scramble for purchase around his neck at the sudden movement, âWhatâs going on in that head of yours, handsome?â
âShouldnât have left you alone,â he fumes.
You understand then that heâs blaming himself, âSteve, itâs not your fault.â
âHe put his hands on you,â Steve grates out, holding you closer to him.
Your legs sway in the air as he furiously makes his way through the parking lot to get to the car. You hate seeing him upset, but canât lie that it doesnât turn you on with how territorial of you heâs being.
One of your hands moves to card through the back of his hair, âYou donât need to be jealous, baby.â
âOh, Iâm jealous all right. But Iâm more pissed off that he thought it was okay to touch you, and livid with myself for leaving you with him,â his breathing is erratic from how upset he is.
âThen make it up to me, we donât have to be home for another hour,â you remind him, tucking your head into the junction of his collarbone.
Thatâs how you found yourself curled up next to him in a booth at Melâs Diner, the place you used to frequent when you were still just dating.
You were sharing your favorite - breakfast food for dinner, chatting about Steveâs summer baseball league he was coaching. Your legs are pulled up sideways on the leather seat, and Steve has a hand hooked under the back of your knees.
You were letting him vent to you - loved that you had the privilege of being his safe space to do so, when youâre interrupted by one of the fathers of the children that your son goes to Pre-K with.
Heâs a single dad, and you canât deny that he would boldly flirt with you when your paths crossed - which you were always honest with Steve about.
âHey! Itâs so good to see you outside of day care pickup,â he says enthusiastically, seemingly to purposefully ignore Steve.
Steve swallows harshly, picking up on the fact that this must be the guy whoâs trying to weasel his way in between your marriage.
âUm, yeah. Good to see you too. This is my husband, Steve,â you introduce him, and the guy visibly deflates at that, even though he already knew you were married.
âRight, youâre the husband,â he trails off, avoiding eye contact.
Steve rolls his eyes, âOf seventeen years.â
You softly hit him with your elbow, because you donât want things to be weird when you see the man at your son's school.
âAnyways, you look beautiful, by the way,â the guy tries, even though Steveâs right there.
âOh, thanks,â you reply cordially, trying not to be rude but also are a little irked that heâs blatantly making a move in front of your man.
Steve clears his throat and makes it obvious he wants him to leave, âWeâre kinda in the middle of something.â
âSorry, my bad. Nice to meet you, man. See you later, beautiful,â he bids you goodbye arrogantly.
Steveâs got a sulky look on his face as he watches the guy leave.
Your lips pull in an amused smile, âWhatâs wrong, Stevie?â
He groans at the teasing, turns back to you and drops his head into the crook of your neck.
âBaby, you realize that was the third time,â he whines.
You giggle lightly at the feel of his lips on your skin, âThird time for what?â
âThe third time youâve been hit on in one day by someone that wasnât me,â he grumbles.
âAnd none of them mattered, because they werenât you,â you remind him, gently playing with the wedding band on his hand.
Steve sighs in frustration, âDid you see the nerve of that guy though? Itâs like I wasnât even sitting here.â
âSteve,â you say calmly, âI donât even remember his name, honey.â
He pulls his head up, âReally?â
Your hand comes up to fiddle with his tie, and you yank him closer to you, âOnly got eyes for you, baby.â
Steveâs eyes drop from your eyes to your lips, tongue flicking out to wet them, desperate to get you out of the public view to be able to ravish you.
You have the same idea - glancing down at the watch on your wrist before asking, âWe still have twenty minutes. Wanna go makeout in your truck?â
âGod, yes,â Steve breathes out excitedly, throwing down a wad of cash and nearly trips over his own feet as he books it out the diner with you on his heels.
When you get back home, you find your children spread out on the living room floor, back to playing the board game.
Your toddler is sleeping though - curled up in the lap of her ten year old brother, while his twin has her head resting against your oldest girl's stretched out legs. Your oldest is staring intently at the game - determining his next move, and your four year old is the only one with enough energy to get up and throw himself at you.
You swing him up easily, kissing his cheek, âHey, buddy. Missed you.â
He mutters out a reply, and as you and Steve move into the room, your children clock Steveâs attitude right away.
âDad, why do you look grumpy?â your ten year old boy asks him quietly, not wanting to wake up his sister.
Steve looks offended at the comment, âI do not look grumpy.â
âYou do,â your oldest chimes in, before scratching his head - still deciding what to do about the game.
âWell apparently, Momâs got more than just teenage admirers,â Steve says, looking over at his oldest son.
âI swear I didnât know he had a crush on Mom,â your boy groans.
âDad, I feel like you shouldâve already known that. Momâs gorgeous,â your eldest girl says it like a well known fact, fingers working on braiding her sisters hair.
âThanks, sweetheart,â you smile, a little shy at all the compliments youâve been receiving from your children today.
âI know Momâs gorgeous, believe me,â Steve smiles, then mumbles something about that being the reason thereâs six of them.
âUgh, Dad, thatâs revolting,â your eldest girl complains.
âWhyâs Daddy revolting?â Your middle girl asks curiously, blinking sleepily from her spot.
Your oldest boy laughs, âHeâs not revolting, heâs just in love with Mom.â
Your children continue to poke fun at their father when you join them on the floor, and you can tell Steveâs mood lifts at the lighthearted atmosphere.
Youâre resting against Steveâs bare chest later that night in bed, fingers trailing through the coarse hair there when he finally asks you whatâs been bugging him all evening.
âYou sure you donât get bored?â Steve asks you with a trace of worry behind his eyes.
Your lips part in shock, âYou heard that?â
âTommyâs voice carries, unfortunately,â Steve gripes.
Youâre about to respond, when your door slowly creaks open, and itâs your youngest babe - clattering in with your high heels on her tiny feet that youâd kicked off in the hallway earlier.
You giggle affectionately at watching her stumble in - hands planting on the floor to catch herself from falling.
âWhat are you doing out of bed, sweet girl?â You ask her.
You had to get her a floor bed since she was actively climbing out of her crib once she learned how to, which meant she frequently found her way to your room in the evening.
âMommy, shoes,â she pushes herself back up, smiling cheekily at you.
âWow baby, you look beautiful in Mommyâs shoes,â you coo at her, sliding off the bed to pick her up - the high heels stay hooked on her toes, dangling from the edges.
She points to them, âDaddy, shoes.â
Steve gets up to join the two of you, âGorgeous baby, just like your Mama.â
She starts babbling, trying so hard to form full sentences and your heart squeezes at the sight of Steve nodding along, gazing adoringly at her.
You slip your free arm around his naked back, traveling your arm up and down the warm skin in assurance, âCould never be bored with the life we have, Steve.â
Steve leans his forehead against yours, âThank god, gorgeous.â
Thereâs a gentle knock that interrupts you, turning to see your oldest, who looks a little guilty.
âHey, Dad?â He says.
âYeah, bud?â Steve replies.
Your boy shifts his feet, âI just wanted to apologize for before. I donât wanna be friends with anyone whoâs going to be disrespectful towards you and Momâs relationship, so he wonât be coming over again.â
You smile sweetly at your boy, knowing heâs got a heart thatâs just like his dadâs.
Pride washes over Steveâs face, âThat means a lot to me. Thanks, bud.â
âEven though itâs a little crazy that you were jealous over a literal teenager,â he ribs his dad, and it makes you cover your mouth in amusement at the witty remark.
Steve scoffs in jest, âGreat, Iâm being targeted in my own home.â
âOnly because we love you,â you hug him with your toddler squished in the middle, and Steve rests his head against your own.
Your oldest bids the two of you goodnight, and you let yourself melt into Steveâs arms - thankful for a love that still warrants petty jealousy and soft declarations of assurances that youâll forever be each otherâs.
Taglist: Iâve gotten some requests to get a tag list going for this series, so if youâre interested lmk in the comments section or message me!