georgina

southern charm (will lamontagne x original character, criminal minds)

chapter 1 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8

BACK ON YOU (steve harrington x original character, stranger things)

chapter 1 - season 2 chapter 2 chapter 3 chapter 4 chapter 5 chapter 6 chapter 7 chapter 8 chapter 9 chapter 10 - season 3 chapter 11 chapter 12

hot and cold (gator tillman x fem!reader, fargo)

chapter 1

oneshots

“you see anything?” dustin asked, arms folded over the shrubbery. 

beside him, steve peeked through the binoculars, scanning the ground floor and first level of the mall. 

“uh… i guess i don't totally know what i'm looking for.” 

“russians. evil russians.”

“yeah, exactly.” steve began, pulling back from the binoculars to shoot dustin a glare. “i don't even know what russians look like. much less evil russians.”

“tall, blonde. not smiling. oh, and look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing.” 

steve sighed and leant back into the binoculars, shifting to scan the area. “okay. duffel bags. sure. i can - oh, you've got to be kidding me!”

“what?”

“anna jacobi’s talking with that meathead mark lewinsky! jesus christ, what happened to standards?” steve asked himself, watching as anna and mark chatted by the railings on the first floor. “he never even came off the bench!”

“if you're not gonna focus, give me the binoculars,” dustin held his hand out and steve took them off with a groan, dropping them into the child's hand. “you are the worst spy in history, you know that? i don't get why you're even looking at girls when you have the perfect one in front of you.”

“if you say laura again-”

“laura,”

“no, don't,”

“laura. laura. laura.”

“stop, no, no.”

“laura.”

“no, man, she’s not my type. she’s not even… in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?”

“what’s your type again? not awesome?” 

“thanks for that.” steve rolled his eyes, looking ahead. “dor your information, she’s still in school. and she’s weird. she's always been weird. it was a momentary lapse of judgement.” steve claimed, though dustin didn't buy it for a second.

instead, he turned his head, looking at the ground floor again to check for russians. “momentary lapse of judgement, my ass. i thought you said she was the first girl you loved?”

“i-” steve shut his mouth instantly, pursing his lips. “who told you that?”

dustin pulled back from the binoculars and flashed him a grin. “no one. i'm just observant. and, now that you’re out of high school, which means you’re technically an adult, don’t you think it’s time you move on from primitive constructs such as popularity?”

“oh, primitive constructs? that's some stupid shit you learnt at camp know…” steve's eyes scanned the cap on dustin's head, shaking his own a little. “nothing?”

“camp know where, actually. and no, it's shit I learnt from life.” dustin placed the binoculars down on the shrubbery for a second, still doing a terrible job hiding between the leaves. “instead of dating somebody you think’s gonna make you cooler, why not date somebody you actually enjoy being around? like me and suzie.”

“oh, suzie. yeah, you mean, “hotter than phoebe cates”? yeah, that suzie. and, uh, let’s think about how exactly did you score that beautiful girlfriend?” steve put a finger to his chin, feigning thought. “oh, yeah. with my advice.”

dustin sighed, picking up the binoculars again.

“vecause that’s how this works, henderson. i give you the advice, you follow through. not the other way around, all right, peabrain?”

“whatever. i'm just saying, you've already got the perfect girl hanging around waiting for you to make the first move and instead you're looking at anna jacobi.”

“okay,” steve turned his body to face dustin. “laura is not waiting for me to make the first move. there are no moves waiting to be made from either of us, alright?”

“not what you said earlier. you said she was flirting with you.” dustin looked back up to the first floor as steve slumped next to him, letting out a heavy breath.

“yeah, i said that.” steve confirmed, fingers shifting to play with the greenery in front of him. “but that was before i saw her talking to that idiot tim.”

“tim's back?”

“did tim ever leave? like, was he waiting in some underground bunker or something, just waiting for my charm to clearly start working on laura again, so he could pop out and ruin it?”

dustin quirked a small smile, his attention never shifting.

“i mean, she never even mentioned him this summer, you know? not since the snow ball, actually, and that was like, forever ago. months. so, what? they're madly in love or some shit?”

“for someone who isn't into laura, it sure sounds like you're into laura.”

“shut up.” steve gently swatted dustin's cap off before taking the binoculars back. “let me see.”

a few quiet moments passed before steve's lips parted, his eyes widening behind the binoculars. “duffel bag…”

steve and dustin shared a look, both muttering about evil russians, before they ran off to follow the blonde man. he looked suspicious, dressed in all black, wearing sunglasses. they ducked behind pillars and store windows several times, staying out of the way any time the man spared a glance over his shoulder.

though, eventually, they saw him walk into a fitness class and assume the role as the instructor. dustin sighed, turning away, whilst steve's eyes remained firmly glued on the women. 

dustin turned back, pinching at his forehead. “they're old enough to be your mom.” he commented quietly, though steve waved him off. “duuuude!” dustin laughed, pointing at one of the women. “is that your mom?!”

“what?” steve's heart dropped to his ass, his stomach churning his lunch as he watched a woman with dark hair swaying her hips. jesus… was that…?

she turned to the side, eagerly taking part in the class, and steve slumped against the wall, the breath knocked from his lungs. “not her. thank god.” 

dustin grinned as wide as a cheshire cat, looking between steve and this woman before eventually gesturing for the older boy to follow him. steve knew there was no way he was going to let dustin take charge of this conversation with robin, so jumped in immediately as they walked into scoops.

“hey robin, you’ll never guess who dustin thought was russian -”

“so did you!”

neither of them could finish the story before robin barged past them, muttering to herself as she stood in the middle of the mall, eyes impatiently flickering around.

“what’s up with her?” steve grumbled, following behind with dustin.

robin’s eyes moved faster than they had ever moved before, pieces of the puzzle seemingly falling into place. “a trip to china sounds nice. a trip to china sounds nice…” she looked around, repeating the words until her eyes landed on a place in starcourt mall. “if you tread lightly… if you tread lightly.”

kaufman shoes. she couldn’t wait to tell laura this.

“when blue and yellow meet in the west…” robin continued, tapping her notepad.

steve and dustin exchanged a look. a quizzical look. a look that said ‘she’s finally gone crazy’, before they decided to walk over to the middle of the court, following after her.

“robin? what’re you doing?”

“i cracked it.” robin jumped down from the middle section, her eyes wide.

“cracked what?” steve asked, as if the answer was impossible.

robin smiled, letting out a soft breath. “i cracked the code.”

upstairs, laura had returned to stacking shoe boxes, sighing as tim complained about his summer break. when they had first met, tim never complained about anything. laura had begged the universe to let him be normal and find something negative to discuss, and then all her christmases came at once.

well, christmases from hell.

because now, tim complained more than anyone she knew. more than herself, more than courtney, and even more than her own mother. 

tim sat on a small seat, intended to be used when people were trying on shoes. “i don’t know, lau. i just feel like everyone has their shit together.”

“no one has their shit together. are you kidding me? you think me working two jobs is having my shit together?” laura climbed down the ladder hesitantly, brushing her hands on her trousers.

tim was about to respond when excited feet hopped off the escalator and ran over to kaufman shoes.

“laura! you’ll never guess what -” steve’s face fell when he caught sight of tim sat on the stool, his own eyes lighting up at the excitement. “oh, uh. hey, tim. long time no see.”

“steve, man! how are you doing?” tim stood, walking over to steve and holding out his hand to shake. 

robin and dustin looked to each other, then to laura, who was eagerly pretending she had more boxes to stack. they couldn’t help but find the sight funny.

steve’s brows pinched together as he watched tim’s hand extend, and hesitantly - and with obvious disgust on his face - steve took it, shaking his hand with a false smile. “yeah-huh. not long enough, maybe.” he muttered under his breath, but tim heard. tim chuckled, retracting his hand.

“we need to talk to laura. super secret, uh, birthday stuff.” dustin began.

“yeah! birthday stuff. her mom’s birthday.” robin nodded, hands in her shorts pockets. 

tim looked over to laura, who was now tuned into the conversation. “i didn’t know your mom’s birthday was coming up.”

steve snorted, looking between the two. his face fell when both laura and tim looked at him. “sorry. need to clear my sinuses out.”

tim sighed and shook his head, looking to laura. “see you later?”

laura nodded and tim made a swift exit, but not before patting steve on the shoulder. tim knew all about steve. steve shrugged him off, sliding his hands into his shorts pockets. 

“so what’s going on?”

“robin cracked it.”

“what?”

“the code!” steve told her, looking to robin and nodding, allowing her to jump right into what she had figured out, and leading the charge forwards.

laura hadn’t quite contemplated how awful this plan would be. not the plan itself, but the weather when she got onto the roof. she was already late - thanks to her car all but breaking down on the drive back from home - and now she was absolutely drenched.

she groaned, pushing wet hair off of her face and hooking her hood further over the top of her head. the ladder up to the roof was slippery, dangerously so, and laura suddenly wished she hadn’t agreed to any part of this.

laura had to lie to her mom, again, about where she was going and what she was doing. her mom’s conclusion was that she was hanging out with courtney again, and laura let her believe it. she felt guilty often, keeping this stuff from her, but what was the alternative? telling her about the upside down? about why they were watching evil russians? 

hauling herself up onto the roof, lightening struck, and she flinched as the light travelled downwards, and the sound engulfed her hearing. “fuckin’ weather.” she grumbled, desperately trying to keep her hands dry but failing immediately. up ahead she could see dustin, robin and steve hiding, so laura kept low, making sure no one else would see her up there.

but as she got closer and hid behind another block of granite on the roof - why was that here? - she saw it. them. steve and robin.

the fear had gotten to them. maybe they had been seen, she didn’t know. all she did know was they were there, catching their breath, holding hands so tightly she could see their knuckles turning white from here.

oh. 

so she hadn’t been making it up. they really were into each other, possibly even dating by now. 

a soft breath left her lips and before she could decide what to do, they were scrambling off of the roof and heading down to erica.

without her.

without wondering where she was.

“fuckin’ piece of shit,” you cursed under your breath, watching as the contents of your plastic bag fall out onto the ground. it wasn’t like you to forget your reusable grocery bags, much preferring their sturdiness to those of the store, but logical thinking had not been your friend lately.

returning to stark county had not been on your to-do-list. in fact, the only time you ever returned to this hell of a home was to see your mother at christmas. even then, you didn’t leave the house until it was time to return to chicago. 

this wasn’t a place where you stayed to live. this was a place where dreams and hopes died, and so did your freedom along with it. between the dust, the poison and the constant lingering of sadness, there really was nothing to do in this town. you could count the coffee shops on one hand, the old library no one used, and the hospital falling apart a couple blocks away. this wasn’t home. not anymore.

the only person that could be a reflection of home was your mother. your wonderful, loving, dying mother. she didn’t like you thinking of it that way - her dying - but it was true. the cancer had spread and despite her upcoming surgery, you knew it would take a miracle for her to recover.

that hadn’t stopped you from trying. your faith in god had died along with your father nearly ten years ago. and here you were, in the same boat, a little older and a little wiser, and a lot more sad.

you had only been back in town for two days, but things were different now. your mother, once eager to get out of the house and go to all of the stores she once swore she hated, now could barely get to the front door without feeling like her chest was caving in. the medication, they said, it’ll help ease the pain. it wasn’t working. watching her lose herself more and more every time you facetimed killed you faster than the cancer was killing her, and you stayed in chicago for as long as you could until no one - and nothing - needed you more than your mother.

maybe it was selfish to stay away; to hide behind your corporate job in a big city, hoping that your mother’s illness wouldn’t quite reach the confines of your new home. she hadn’t needed you then, but she did now.

your first stop, after settling back into your childhood bedroom, had been the pharmacy to pick up the medication that wasn’t working. it took everything in you not to cuss out the pharmacist for just doing his job, but doing it at a pace that sucked the life from you. you saw several people you knew from school on the way to and from the pharmacy, all looking like they had been through their own hell.

your second stop - your most recent before the grocery store - had been the church. church was a strong word, but it was all this town had. roy tillman’s church. the church that held the service for your father after he passed, but not before nearly breaking your mother’s bank account. this place still held its services, you heard, but you weren’t there to attend one. on your hands and knees, you prayed for the first time in ten years. you prayed for your mother, for your father’s eternal soul, and prayed for yourself that, when the time came to say goodbye to your mother, you weren’t crippled by the agonising grief she was sure to leave behind.

your knees weren’t accustomed to the feeling of praying anymore. your hands trembled, fighting the urge to remind yourself god wasn’t real just this once. if he was real, this was the last time you would bother him.

so, when the plastic bag split and threw your groceries onto the floor, it felt a bit like a bad omen. it was god telling you to saddle up and get used to the bullshit this town had to offer. with a heavy sigh, you crouched down, quickly picking up what you could salvage and shoving it into the trunk of your car - a car that was much too nice to be driving on the roads of fargo. 

“need a hand, ma’am?”

the voice had you rolling your eyes before you had even confirmed it was him. though, as you turned your head, you felt the irritation boiling under your skin.

“they got you in a uniform now?” you asked, hand on your trunk, preparing to close it.

gator let out a quiet oh, taking three strides over and picking up a small bag of oranges you had missed. “yeah, sheriff, ‘n all that.” he went to put the oranges in the trunk, but you quickly snatched them back.

“deputy,” you reminded him. “and no, i don’t need a hand.”

you round the car, opening the driver’s side door when gator followed you around, closing it before you had a chance to get in. “i’m just tryna help. don’t gotta bite my head off or nothin’.”

“i didn’t ask for your help.”

“would’a forgotten them oranges if you ain’t had me pickin’ them up for ya. don’t i get a thanks?” gator knew he was pushing your buttons. of all the people in fargo, he knew how. “haven’t seen ya momma ‘round lately. stopped comin’ to church.”

there was a hint of genuine concern in gator’s voice - not something he showed often, but something you could pick up on. you nod, sparing a look around before looking back up to gator. his dark eyes bore into your own, his proximity forcing the mix of sandalwood cologne and vape smoke down your throat. 

“she ain’t well,” you told him, truthfully. “ain’t well at all, actually.”

gator didn’t miss the quick glance down to the ground, as if you were worried about him seeing something you were trying to hide. “shit. sorry t’ hear that. really. ain’t many good women left in fargo but she’s one of ‘em. roy’s missed her at service.”

“you still call your dad roy?” you wondered, arms now folded across your chest. the history between gator and roy had always been a sore subject, and it was something you had always felt guilty for. gator’s life hadn’t been as easy as he pretended, but that was no excuse for him to be such an asshole.

“fuck off,” gator cursed, though there was no real malice behind it. “ain’t gonna start callin’ him daddy now. not like that dumb bitch karen.”

there it was. his foul mouth. the same one that always got him into trouble in high school. the same one that talked you out of trouble in elementary. 

“the twins okay?” you asked gently, earning another scoff from gator. jessica and maude were his step-sisters, though there was no real love lost between them. that’s what gator liked to pretend, anyway, but he knew deep down that his sisters were one of the few good things in this world.

“they’re fine. bitchin’ and moanin’ like always. bigger than the last time you saw them.”

you mutter a quiet yeah, before sighing. “i gotta go.”

gator hummed and nodded, taking a few steps back. he looked around sheepishly, then back to you as you opened the car door. “mhm, yeah. yeah. you uh - tell your ma t’... i dunno. whatever. keep fightin’, i guess.”

emotional vulnerability hadn’t been a strong suit of gator’s since his mother was alive, but you appreciated the effort, quickly ducking into your car and speeding off home.

gator stood there for a moment, in the small parking lot of the grocery store, and couldn’t help but think back to when you were both kids. before the world seemed to go to shit. before you moved away and forgot about him. eventually, his feet took him back to his car, where he drove around for hours under the guise of patrol. his job was a joke. 

“you were gone forever. thought i’d have to send out a search party.” your mom joked, slowly pushing herself to stand up from her chair in the living room.

“don’t get up, ma.” you told her, carrying in the shopping bags. the loose items were pushed on top, clinging on for dear life. “‘s all good. ran into gator.”

“the tillman boy?” she asked, and you nodded. “oh. how is he? heard he got promoted.”

“uh, yeah. must have done.” you shrugged, putting the groceries away. “deputy sheriff now. thinks he’s god’s gift.” you half joked, but it wasn’t all that far off.

“that’s just the tillman’s for you. always have thought they were some divine creation.” she commented, now on her feet with a soft groan. she slowly walked over to the kitchen where you stood, picking up the bag of oranges. “they didn’t have apples?”

“no, sorry, ma. i’ll check the corner store later.”

“oh, don’t worry. oranges work fine.” her hand found your shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

with a warm smile, you leaned down to kiss her head. “go sit back down. i’ve got this.”

after dinner, you took a walk down to the corner store, not only looking for a bag of apples, but something to drink. something that wasn’t blended fruit or boring water. it was chilly out - not as chilly as the winter, but the bitterness in the air was certainly preparing for a freezing winter.

pushing the door open, you looked around, hugging your arms around yourself to keep your jacket snug against your body. it wasn’t much warmer in here, but you put on a smile for the cashier and walked around the small store anyway. this one had nearly been put out of business fifteen years ago when the larger grocery store came into town, and usually was abandoned by this time of night, except for those looking for cheap alcohol. those like you. 

“i hope you’re keepin’ outta trouble.” gator’s voice came from in front of you, and you looked up, your feet coming to a stop. “pretty weak shit you got there. college teach ya how to be a pussy?”

you sighed, though a small smile quirked at the corners of your lips. “maybe i like the weak shit. you followin’ me?”

“nah. patrollin’.” he stated, hands in his trouser pockets. it was near impossible to miss the flex of his arms - whether he was doing that on purpose or not, you didn’t know - but your eyes remained on his face. “you oughtta get this,” gator’s hand moved to the shelf beside your head, picking up a bottle. “this is the good shit. pretty cheap too, considerin’. gets ya pretty blissed out.”

“if you pair it with weed, yeah.” 

gator couldn’t help but let out a breathy, but quiet, chuckle at that. “smartass still, i see. what, you offerin’?”

“no, i’m not offering. you were the pothead, not me.”

“yeah, well,” gator put the bottle back, sensing you weren’t going to go for his suggestion anyway. “who said i stopped?”

you shook your head, walking past him to the checkout and rushing the interaction with the cashier so you could get the hell out of here. gator watched from down the aisle, a smirk laced on his lips before he followed you out of the store, the small bell ringing in the distance.

“hey, wait up.” he called after you, walking briskly but not too enthusiastically. “y’ headin’ home?”

“yeah,” you answered, glancing over your shoulder at him before allowing your feet to halt your movements.

“need’a ride?”

“absolutely not.”

“why the fuck not? gonna get yourself killed walkin’ back this time of night.”

“it’s seven. besides, i’m like, two blocks away.” you gestured in the direction with the bottle, the bag of apples in your other hand. 

gator nodded, running his tongue over his lip for a second. “a’ight,” he looked down the street, then back to you. “then let me get you a real drink.”

you raised your eyebrows, chuckling. “you? get me a real drink? what is this, two-thousand-and-eleven?”

“hey, you ain’t gotta be a bitch about it, it’s a fuckin’ free drink and i can guarantee it’ll be better than whatever the fuck piss-looking bottle you just spent four bucks on.”

“anyone ever tell you that you have a real way with words?” you tilted your head, watching as the crease between his eyebrows faded and was replaced with a calm washing over his eyes. “fine. a drink. one.”

gator held his hands up in mock defence, backing away before turning to walk to his car. you followed behind, surprised when he opened the passenger side door for you.

“you call me a bitch again and i’m using your own gun on you, got it?”

“that shit’s sexy.” gator smirked, closing the door behind you and getting into the driver’s side. he started the engine, reversing out of the three bay parking lot and driving onto the road. “always was sexy when you’d get that attitude.”