Back To the Future AU instalment 1
masterlist | Steve Harrington x 2000s!Reader
You had been a bit off the rails ever since school let out. You were finally an adult though, what else should you have done?
Entering the freedom of adulthood with the curiosity and drive of a child was exhilarating and you couldn’t get enough of it.
Your best friend, Mara, was riding the same wave as you, so you stuck together. Whereas most friendships split when school ended, your’s and Mara’s only grew stronger and more chaotic.
Constantly needing an outlet for all this energy, you got into a lot of, well, odd situations… Many of which landed you in jail, but you weren’t meant for a clean record anyway.
The situation you found yourself in now, though, was actually quite mundane.
Mara’s arm was looped around yours as the two of you were walking down the sidewalk of the ratty part of town.
This area was weirdly desert-esc and was a pick-pocket’s sanctuary.
As far as you knew, this is where all the seedy kids hung out, where the trainees learned the ropes from hardened criminals. You weren’t a criminal, well, in your mind you weren’t, but as far as the state of California was concerned? This was where you belonged.
Mara and you stuck out like a sore thumb, expensive (stolen) drinks in hand, styled outfits and excessive jewelry. Everyone else here seemed as if they were a couple decades behind.
Your plan was a calm, trouble-less day—to avoid cops, mostly—but when you caught sight of a rusty chain link fence and a patchwork sign, all of those plans went out the window.
What was one more tick on your record?
You giddily ran up to the fence, calling Mara to follow. She tagged along like a puppy.
Even though the both of you knew it was wrong and that it went against today’s “no-crime” thing, nothing was said about it and you climbed the fence anyway.
The rust was rough under the folds of your fingers as you hoisted yourself up, but you didn’t mind. Anything for a good time.
Your thick-soled shoes thumped heavy on the ground when you landed, dust kicking up all around your ankles.
Mara’s shoes were white, and her nose crinkled up when she saw the red and orange now smudging her brand new, crisp Filas. She had gotten those for her graduation—her parents were just so glad it actually happened without any sexual-bribery charges mixed in.
“My shoes!” She cried indignantly, frowning like a toddler.
You waved her off dismissively and turned to look over the garbage heaps. A lot of it was garbage, obviously, but a smaller pile of shiny objects nearby had you kneeling and digging in seconds.
“They’re just shoes,” You responded lamely, shoving pieces of shitty jewelry into your pockets. Like you needed anymore... “you can clean—” You continued, voice trailing off when you noticed something in the distance.
“What?” Mara groaned and stomped up behind you, her eyes falling where yours were. Her face went pale.
There was a big, white dog in the far left corner of the yard. Neither of you recognized the breed, but it looked strong. Definitely a guard dog.
Somehow, it hadn’t noticed you yet. It was sleeping, you guessed, but it was too far away to tell for sure.
Carefully, you and Mara walked to an area out of the dog’s sight line. Mara let out a relieved breath and leaned on you as soon as she could.
“Don’t worry,” You put your hand on her shoulder. “He was chained up.”
You yourself weren’t scared of the dog, having owned several ones of the relative same size, but Mara was used to toy poodles and chihuahuas. Her dog, Teddy, was essentially a stuffy that “barked”.
When Mara got bored with the sculpture and trinket mound, she spun around slowly, surveying the landscape. She noticed a narrow break in the scrap that looked almost like a walkway. She went without hesitation.
You happened to look up from your pile of items before she disappeared between the piles. You scrambled to your feet. “Hey, Mara! Wait!”
You trialed behind her through the passage and at the end of it was a lot full of cars. Some of them were literally rotting, and others look like they might run if given enough attention. There were even cars half buried under the trash hills.
The both of you looked around for a moment before you heard a gasp.
“Y/N! Y/N, look!” Mara cried excitedly, pointing to a car that seemingly once had a baby pink finish. “Do you think it’ll start?” She asked, a little too optimistic.
“I dunno, Mara…” You circled the car, finding what you suspected to be a mouse-house in the tailpipe.
She ignored your pessimistic attitude and crawled through the missing window and into the driver’s seat. Her hands tugged at the covering below the steering wheel until it popped off. She chucked it onto the passenger seat and fiddled with the wires.
After a few moments, the car sputtered, and then died. It didn’t make any noise when Mara tried again. She cursed under her breath before pulling herself back out of the car. “Piece of shit.” She kicked one of the empty tires.
You could hear her angry huffing, but you weren’t listening, your eyes were focused elsewhere.
There was an odd, shiny silver car—one of the half buried ones. It drew you in for some reason. It looked so familiar…
You ran your fingers over its dirty and dented hood, not noticing Mara come up beside you.
It startled you when she spoke.
“Jesus, what’s wrong with you?” She laughed. “And what’s with this car?” She walked over to the other side, scanning the body as she did.
You thought for a moment before answering. “Doesn’t this kinda look like the car from that weird 80s movie?”
Mara cocked her eyebrow and waited for you to elaborate, not being one so much for “vintage” movies. But then again, neither were you.
“Y’know, the one with Michael J. Fox? And—and the Time Machine, or whatever it was…” You struggled to remember exactly what happened in that movie, not having seen it for at least 10 years.
It took a second, but Mara’s eyes lit up with recognition when she remembered. “Back To the Future?”
“Yeah, my boyfriend made me watch that a couple years ago. It wasn’t very good.”
You agreed with her. It was a pretty childish movie and plenty ridiculous. A time travelling car? Really?
Nevertheless though, finding a car that could’ve been in such a popular movie was actually pretty cool. This could be worth something, that is, if you guys could find a way to get it out of here…
“You wanna get in?” You goaded Mara, hands on the hot metal roof.
She rolled her eyes at your childish dare, but just started pushing trash off the door anyway. You smiled and did the same on your side. Distracted with clearing, Mara didn’t notice a sewing machine teetering a few feet above the car’s roof.
All it took was one push of trash in the wrong spot for the machine—among other scrap—to come crashing down onto the car with a loud bang. She squealed and jumped back.
The dog from the other end of the yard started barking and then it was both of you who jumped. Mara cursed and gave you a worried look.
“Fuck!” She whisper-yelled, panic seeping from her chest into her voice. “I cannot get arrested again, Y/N. my mom said she’d kick me out if I did!”
You wanted to tell Mara that she wasn’t going to get arrested, and that everything was gonna be fine, but a loud voice made you whip your head to the right where it originated.
An old, trailer-trash looking man with a beat up metal baseball bat was shouting about trespassing in all directions. He hadn’t spotted you guys yet.
By the time you turned your head back to Mara to figure out what to do, she was already bolting to the back fence that led to the forest.
“Mara! You motherfucker!” You screamed at her back as she ran. She didn’t turn to look at you or else guilt would’ve crushed her.
You, unfortunately, did not really think about the fact that cursing out your friend could call unwanted attention—attention with a weapon—your way.
The man’s head immediately snapped at the sound of your voice and he looked pissed off beyond belief to confirm that there were, in fact, trespassers on his property.
He charged toward the hill of trash that you were behind, and you panicked. You tugged the door of the Delorean open just enough to slip inside before shutting it as quietly as you could.
The interior was a little moist from past rainfalls, and it smelled like mildew and dust and squirrels. You were sure there was a squirrel under your butt in the seat moving around, but you were too terrified to move to check.
You held a hand over your mouth to keep quiet and avoid bodily harm. The crunching of boots on the soil outside the car was ominous, almost like a horror movie. You could see his bat swinging back and forth beside his leg through the slit where the door wouldn’t close all the way.
He looked around for a few minutes before swearing and angrily hitting his bat on the car’s hood. It’s a miracle he didn’t find you.
He shouted at his barking dog to “shut up!” before retreating back into the dilapidated shack he was obviously trying to pass as a home.
Your lungs ached when you finally let yourself breathe. That was also when you realized that you had been fully holding your breath.
Everything about that was worse than being chased by the cops, you thought. At least the cops weren’t allowed to hurt you more than putting the handcuffs on too tight.
You gave yourself a second to recover and calm down before you pushed yourself up to get out of the car and haul-ass out of there, but something beeped when you put your weight on your hands.
The car began to rumble and a dizzying array of lights lit up the cab. Your eyebrows furrowed when you tried to decipher what exactly was happening, but you didn’t have enough time.
You were jolted back into the seat as the flat tires shot the vehicle forward and the air was knocked from your lungs.
You stared out the dust-covered front window and were convinced that you were about to die, eyes locked on the cinderblock wall no more than 100 metres in front of you.
Your hands flew to cover your face and you prepared to die—or at least be maimed—but to your pleasant surprise, neither of those things happened.
Instead, you found the car rolling to a halt on some random mid-western road.
Okay, now you really didn’t understand what was going on.
The moon glared brightly off the busted rearview mirror and made you squint.
The moon? It was three in the afternoon ten seconds ago…
You felt drunk. You felt like you were in a dream. You felt like you could throw up.
Stumbling out of the weird door, you bent over the edge of the paved road and lost your lunch, the overpriced one you’d eaten with Mara before the junkyard exploration.
You let yourself fall backwards onto your ass and your head hang back. Your eyes were shut in attempts to stop the spinning and nauseous feelings. They very slowly subsided.
Only once you felt like a human again, did you let yourself look around.
There was nothing but a long road and trees and a field. Oh, and a lot of stars in the sky. You were definitely not anywhere near your city.
A groan fell from your lips and your hands curled into fists.
You were irritated to be somewhere you didn’t know, but at the same time, it was kind of peaceful. The air smelt nice here, you thought, wherever “here” is.
How did I get here? Is what was mostly on your mind at this particular moment, though.
You had absolutely no idea what to do. Should you get back in the car? No way. Never again, you swore to yourself.
Shaking your head in frustration, you stood up and begrudgingly held up your thumb. No cars were currently on the road, but you did it anyway.
The evening breeze was admittedly pretty nice, and after a little while, you didn’t really mind where you were. It’s not like you had anywhere better to be.
Your arm was aching by the time a car finally came down the road. It pulled to the shoulder just behind where you were standing. You couldn’t tell who was driving in the darkness, so you went up to the driver’s side window to take a peak.
The man inside was cute, his hair brushed his shoulders and had caramel highlights. His lips were such a pretty shade of pink that you could swear he was wearing lipgloss. You kind of just stared at him. He didn’t look like anyone from 2005.
You didn’t even realize when he said something to you.
“Are you okay?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Uh. Yeah, yeah! I’m fine…” You managed, trying to smile in an I’m-not-a-psycho way. You cringed at the lame attempt.
“You needed a ride..?” He offered politely, ignoring or fully not noticing your awkwardness. You appreciated it either way.
“Yes—yes. Thank you.” Your thanks was genuine and you repeated it a few more times as you sauntered over to your side and popped open the door. This was a nice car.
You got caught up looking at the well kept, obviously expensive, upholster, and didn’t notice until the car started that this man was wearing a blue sailor’s uniform. You tried not to, but you laughed a little bit.
He looked confused for a moment, but nodded in recognition when he glanced down. “Right…” He sighed. “It’s, uh. It’s a work uniform.” He tried to explain, pulling off the shoulder and back onto the empty road.
“Do you… work on boats, or..?” The teasing tone to your voice could not be mistaken. He laughed some, too.
You probably should’ve been being more vigilant and cautious about getting in a strangers car so easily, but his laugh sounded so cute and his hair was really bouncy and pretty, nothing like the common buzzcuts that you were used to.
“Sorry for laughing, but it’s just a bit, uhm, shocking?” You tried to dig yourself out of the laughter and light mockery since he was being nice and giving you a ride.
“I get it…” He said before sighing. “I would’ve changed before leaving work if I knew I’d be picking up a chick. Not that I’m like—picking you up, but, well, you know what I mean…” His voice and face got clearly panicky at his own wording, and it made you giggle.
You felt oddly safe in this stranger’s BMW.
—I do not authorize my content to be fed to artificial intelligence—
