Summary: Reader comes with Marty to 1955, while getting ready for the Enchantment Under The Sea Dance, Marty is floored by how gorgeous she is and gets a little carried away.
Warnings: Light SMUT, 18+ MDNI. May have got a little carried away, but nothing too graphic. Oral f!receiving, Marty being a lovesick puppy.
Puppy Love (Light Smut)
The temporary 1955 bedroom was dimmed, with the orange sunset spilling through the blinds. You sat at the old-school vanity doing the finishing touches to your makeup.
Footsteps traipsed up the stairway, before the bedroom door flung open, “Hey babe- ..woah!”
“What? Is it too much?” You worry softly, not feeling used to the pink knee-length dress or the wool cardigan across your chest.
“No, no not at all, baby.” Marty jitters like he usually did when surprised, “You look good.. you’re just so hah.. h-”
“Marty?” You gently place a hand on his shoulder.
“You’re so beautiful.” He practically whimpers, looking more desperate to please than you’d ever seen him.
He placed his head in your lap as you finished the makeup, a little lopsided smile tugged at your boyfriend’s lips. Your hand raked through his hair, causing him to purr subtly, “Mm.. feels good~”
You looked down occasionally to ask if he was okay, which he responded to with a little nod- but this time he spoke up.
“Yeah, fine baby.. just you know when we go back to 1985?” He sheepishly asked.
“Yeah, what about it?”
“Bring this with you..” Marty softly instructed, his hands roaming your torso a little more as well as your legs.
“Okay, okay…” You chuckle softly, your hands equally on him now. Marty slowly stood to until he was level with your face before dancing his lips down your jawline.
With a little hiss, you tilted your head to give him further access.
“Oh god..” Marty groans against your skin. The desperation he clearly was struggling with was too cute to resist as you gently guide him to the bed.
“It’s better here, baby,” you reassured, kissing his tenderly as you lie on the bed, pulling him on top of you by the tie.
He landed with an oof, but quickly resumed kissing at your jaw and neck. All of a sudden, Marty’s hips meet yours as he presses down with need. He began rolling his hips against yours, creating friction between your clothed skin.
“Fuck, baby-” you hiss through your teeth, bunching up the dress around your waist. Your boyfriend eagerly helped, looking like you’d never seen him before.
“We’re gonna be late for the stupid dance,” he murmurs as his lips trail up your inner thighs. “Not that it matters. This is more important right now,”
Your head fell back against the pillow as soon as Marty reached your sweet spot, lapping up like a parched dog. Your face scrunched up in ecstasy as the grip in your partners hair tightened. He welcomed the pressure of your hand, liking the way you ground back into him.
“Keep going,” Marty groans lovingly, “god, you taste amazing.. fuck, (y/n) I’ve missed this…” while his moan was muffled by your thighs, you could hear the sincerity in his voice, and despite how dirty a situation was, Marty was hopelessly in love with you.
Can you do a Marty McFly x Reader, where the reader and him traveled back to 1955 together. Marty and the reader aren’t exactly together but they two idiots in love. But basically Lorraine doesn’t get the hint that these two are interested in each other so the reader is jealous but then some boy in 1955 flirts with the reader and Marty ends up jealous 😭. THANK YOU!!!!
Dance With Me
[Marty Mcfly x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Despite how rare it seems, don’t forget that jealously is often a two-way street.
WC: 1758
Category: Fluff
Oh my god… i’m so sorry this took so long. I’ve been so caught up. But, I finally finished it so hopefully you like it!! (this is probably my favorite Marty fic I’ve written so far tbh).
『••✎••』
It was stupid. You knew it was. The entire scenario was ridiculous, and you felt stupid for letting it bother you so much.
Yet, the entire day, you couldn’t get the thought out of your head. Even now, as the dance played on around you, you couldn’t keep the thought of how Lorraine Baines could be so oblivious.
Sure, she was with George… now. But before Marty fixed up the past, she was all over her son as if he were the best thing since sliced bread. It wasn’t even the fact that it was her son that was bothering you, although that certainly did play a part in it, no. It was the fact that it was Marty.
It wasn’t like the two of you were together or anything, but you knew there was something. A spark, if you would, and it was a spark that made you want to pull him away from her and just tell him what was on your mind.
You weren't really sure when the infatuation had begun. It was as though a light had just flickered on one day, and suddenly, everything was different. Everything was Marty, your lazy lab partner.
Your eyes flickered to the man across the room. He was standing alone (for once) by the punch bowl, watching the dancers with a soft smile. Even now, Lorraine was still obvious to your connection. Though, it didn’t really matter since everything was fixed now. Her obsession moved on, and so should yours.
Still, your eyes drifted down to your shoes as your mind flashed back to the night before. You remembered the feeling of her fingers wrapped around his wrist and the way she pulled him closer to her, practically begging him to ask her to the dance. And he had, though only because it was the plan to begin with.
Your lips twisted down into a scowl, and you had half a mind to take her to the side and give her a piece of your mind. But why should you? What did it matter? It was over now, and there was nothing left to do but wait until the past was the past.
God, you couldn’t wait to leave.
You sighed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed over your chest.
You wanted to go home. You wanted to see Doc alive, Doc, and not worry about this crap anymore. You just wanted to be home.
You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. The music seemed to swell around you, and you could hear the shuffle of feet as people danced around. It was almost overwhelming, and you wished you had a place to escape to.
When you opened your eyes, however, a face greeted yours, and a hand reached out toward you.
You blinked, looking up at the boy who was grinning brightly down at you.
"May I have this dance?" he asked, his smile bright.
It shocked you. In 1985, you were never asked to dance unless it was by a friend in an attempt to make you feel better. And while the boy standing in front of you wasn’t exactly the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, he was trying.
Your gaze shifted across the room, looking at the others. George and Lorraine were dancing, his hand low on her waist. Your parents were also dancing, as well as most of the students. And then there was Marty, standing alone, watching his parents dance.
It really was just you caring, wasn't it?
Your gaze shifted back to the boy, who was still watching you expectantly.
A sigh fell from your lips, and a small smile curled on your lips. "I would love to."
His smile brightened as he took your hand, pulling you into the middle of the dance floor. You glanced at the people around you, seeing their confused expressions and the whispers.
You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but the boy was quick to spin you around.
His hands found your hips, and yours settled on his shoulders.
The music slowed, but the song wasn’t as familiar. Your feet followed the rhythm, and the boy led the way.
"So," he started, a smile curling on his lips, "you don’t seem like the rest of the girls."
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. "I get that a lot."
"Are you new to school?" he asked, his smile never wavering. “I’m sort of new too, just moved in the last year. I haven't seen you around."
"Oh, uh, yeah," you nodded, not wanting to explain the details of your situation. "I’m just visiting, though. Leaving tonight, actually."
"Tonight?" He looked surprised and maybe even a little disappointed.
"Yeah," you said. "But I think I'll be back soon."
"I hope you do," he smiled, and his voice sounded genuine. Now you wished that you could stay longer, but you knew that it wasn’t possible. "What was your name, by the way?"
“Can I bud in for the next dance?" a voice asked a familiar voice, a voice you would know anywhere.
Your body froze, the boy stopped, and the music halted.
Both of your gazes shifted over to see Marty standing in front of you with a small smile. One that held something more than just a friendly offer.
The boy glanced at you, his gaze questioning. Boldness was not his strong suit, and it wasn’t yours either, but you were a little less timid than he was.
"Yeah," you nodded, "of course."
Marty's grin brightened, and he quickly grabbed your hand, disregarding the “next dance” statement completely, forcing you to ditch the poor boy.
You felt a bit bad about the abrupt switch, but the feeling vanished when he pulled you against his chest, his hands on your hips, and yours around his neck.
"What was that about?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. “I was kind of in the middle of something."
"Yeah," he nodded, "But remember what Doc said to us? He said that we shouldn't change anything. We don't know how this could affect our future."
"Or affect his," you pointed out, but he shook his head.
"He’ll forget about it," Marty waved it off. “Trust me, the guy's got enough on his mind right now; what's one more thing?"
“Would you?” Your words were quiet, and you didn’t really think that he would hear them. But he did, and his gaze met yours.
"Would I what?"
"Would you forget about it? It seemed as though you couldn’t handle the fact that I wasn’t dancing with you," you explained, a smirk tugging on the corners of your lips.
"No, I-" he sighed, shaking his head. "Doc said that we shouldn’t change anything. I’m just following the rules."
You rolled your eyes, a scoff falling from your lips. "Since when have you ever listened to rules?"
"Hey, I listen to rules!" he defended, but his tone was playful, and the smile on his face betrayed his words. “And you're changing the subject."
"Am I?" you smirked, quirking an eyebrow. "What subject would that be, McFly?"
His hands were on your waist, pulling you closer. Your eyes widened, and you could feel your heart beating rapidly.
"How quick you were to dance with me," he grinned, his voice quiet, but you could hear the teasing undertone. “instead of the boy you were with."
"I don’t know what you're talking about," you scoffed, looking away from him, but the grin was still playing on your lips.
"No? Is my mother still on your mind, then?" he asked, his voice teasing.
"That makes me sound creepy," you said, scrunching up your nose in distaste. “Do you always have to word things so weird?"
"Do you always have to avoid the question?"
You were silent for a moment, trying to find a good response. "Yes."
His eyes brightened, a smile lighting up his face. "You are, aren’t you? You're still jealous of my mother."
"No," you groaned, shaking your head. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry, Marty, but I'm not obsessed with you like she is. Or was, or whatever. She isn't obsessed anymore, is she?"
"Not really," he shrugged, but his grip was still firm around your waist. "She sees me like a brother now, I think.”
“How’d that happen?" you asked, thinking about the dramatic change of direction, but you noticed how his smile faltered for a moment, a distant look clouding his features.
"Let’s… not talk about it," he shook his head, the smile returning to his lips. Something about that ordeal told you it was better left unsaid, so you didn't push it any further.
"Okay," you nodded, smiling. "I'm sorry, though, I guess. For being weird and all."
"No," he shook his head, pulling you in so close that your nose nearly brushed against his. Your eyes widened, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. You were suddenly aware of his every movement and his closeness. His hands were warm against your skin, his thumb rubbing against the fabric of your dress.
"Save the apologies for when we get out of this nightmare," he didn’t elaborate on his words, but the thought of seeing Doc alive again, as if nothing had ever happened, made the smile grow on your lips.
You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his. Your hands moved from his shoulders, and your arms wrapped around his neck. He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
You could feel his breath fanning against your lips, and yours ghosted across his. Your heart was beating rapidly, and your palms began to sweat, but the feeling wasn’t uncomfortable. It was nice. It was a reminder that you were there, dancing with the boy you loved.
And even though it was the 1950s, and neither of you would admit your feelings for one another, there was that awkward truth that lingered in the air. That spark, the one that pulled you together and ignited something that you were too afraid to admit.
You both were jealous of someone, a simple fact that would make the two of you laugh if only you both had the guts to admit it. But it was okay because this was the start.
You didn’t have to say anything. The music, the moment, was saying everything for you.
So you didn't say a word. Instead, you moved closer and let the jealousy fade along with the song.
Transferred Wattpad Story of mine. "Earth Angel" Marty [Back to the Future] x Reader
Warnings: Angsty
Additional information: No use of Y/N, sad ending
Requested by: N/A
"Have you heard his voice, and have you seen his hand?!" The leader of the act asked the two of you. "But if the song isn't sung, then his parents don't fall in love, they don't kiss, and he's history!" You plead.
"Well, unless you can find us a singer and guitarist, then you're out of luck, and this show's over." You glanced at Marty, who glanced at you. "Marty knows how to play guitar, and I can sing." You tell the band leader. "You guys know 'Earth Angel'?" Marty answered with, "Yeah, of course we do!" And you nodded, glancing at the car, and the guitarist's hand. Ow.
That's how you ended up on stage with Marty. "I'm sure you'll do fine," Marty puts a hand on your shoulder as you nervously play with your dress' skirt. Marty walked over to the other side of the stage. The lights dim a little bit, and the beat starts up. You take a shaky breath, and start off strong. The feelings you have felt for the past few months came out. Happiness, passion, desire, love.
"Earth angel, Earth angel, will you be mine?" Your voice no longer shook, and it blended with the instrumental. "My darling dear, love you all the time." You thought back to when you first realized that you were in love with Marty.
It was a nice and sunny afternoon. You both hung out in the diner, when a boy from your class walked in, and tried to make a move on you, when you weren't interested. Marty had backed you up, and defended you. "Back off, Marcus. She isn't interested." Marty glared at him, sipping on his Pepsi Free.
You smiled to yourself, and sang the next line. "I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you." The boy had made you do so many crazy things.
Speaking of him, you looked over at him, and he was looking at you in awe, barely hitting the notes right. "Earth angel, Earth angel, the one I adore." You sang to him, yet he didn't notice. "Love you for ever, and ever more."
You swayed to the music, tapping your foot for rhythm. "I'm just a fool, a fool in love with you." You looked at Marty. But he didn't notice.
His mind was on getting home to his girlfriend. His soulmate. Jennifer.
A/N: I remember that you asked me to include an ice skating scene, but since I couldn’t fit that as well as the arcade, I focused on the latter for this one. Now that drabbles are open, though, feel free to request one for that other scenario you had in mind! :)
_
Want to send a request? Read my rules first, please!
_
You had almost forgotten about him. That time traveler, Marty McFly. You had only seen him a couple of times. The first time, he got stuck in what he called the future even if it was your present. You had helped him fix his time machine and find his way back to his time. The second time, it hadn’t been an accident. He had willingly gone to your year to visit you and be with you. But that was all.
You had almost forgotten him. Or at least, that’s what you kept trying to tell yourself. You wanted to forget him, because you missed him too much. Because he hadn’t come back and you were starting to fear he wouldn’t.
Walking along the same path you knew by heart, you found with a surprise. A young man wearing old-fashioned clothes was cooly leaning down in a nearby bench. His appearance was familiar and you stared at him. Your heart skipped a beat with the realization of who it was.
“Wow” Came his familiar voice. “You’ve forgotten about me already, Y/N?”
“Marty!” You threw yourself at him, hugging him without thinking.
“Okay” He chuckled, gladly hugging you back. “It’s good to see you too”
“I thought you wouldn’t return” You mumbled as you pulled away. “I’m so happy that I was wrong”
“Why don’t you show me around?” He grinned at you. “Last time we didn’t really get to see much”
“I have the perfect thing!” You tugged at his arm, taking him with you as you headed for that place. “They just opened an arcade, like from your time... what year were you from again?”
“85″ Marty replied, watching you fondly as you excitedly explained.
“Yeah, exactly! It’s like something pulled out from the 80s!” You let go of him when you realized you were still dragging him around. “As soon as they opened it, I thought of you! I couldn’t wait to show you!”
“Really?” He playfully told you. “You were thinking about me?”
Much to your surprise, you felt Marty’s warm fingers tug at yours. Not losing a second, you took his hand and held it tight as you walked.
“Don’t be so cocky, McFly” You knocked your shoulder against his. “I’m going to beat you at those games of yours”
“We’ll see about that” Marty smirked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. “Loser takes winner to dinner?”
“You’re on!”.
Reblogs and comments are appreciated!! // Masterlist
Tag list: @call-me-harley-quinn / @wonderlandfandomkingdom / @fandomxreaders / @fortheloveofbenyandtom / @caswinchester2000 / @dancingwith-sunflowers / @welcome-here-in-my-world / @unstable-puffin-writing / @evilcr0ne / @agentmalfoy24601 // Send an ask if you want to be added to the tag list for this fandom!
If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.
Gif credit goes to - Unknown.
Year posted - 2021
----
"I'm George, George McFly, I'm your density." George stated confidently as he looked to Lorraine, his heart sinking a little when the girls laughed at him. "Destiny love, you mean destiny." (Y/n) peeked up from her book, sitting across from Lorraine, looking up at George. His cheeks tented a bright hue of pink, while the other girls continued to giggle. "Oh ignore them, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. I mix up my words all the time, humans are silly that way." (Y/n) smiled up at him, pride in her heart when he seemed to cheer up a bit. "I'm (Y/n) by the way." (Y/n) offered her hand to George, giving a firm shake when he took her hand in his larger one. "I've never seen you before." George admitted. "That's because I'm new here, I've only been in town a few days. We just haven't crossed paths until now." (Y/n) reasoned making George's lip quark in a small smile. "Well then maybe he's your density." Lorraine teased (Y/n), her words clearly hurting George's feelings. "Well maybe he is, destiny is a fickle thing after all." (Y/n) bit back as she closed her book with a firm thump. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've decided that I don't want to be in this little friend group." She added as she rose from her seat, taking her bag with her. "What, why?" Lorraine asked with confusion. "This boy was only being sweet on you, and you practically kicked dirt in his face. If that's how you treat people then I'm afraid I don't want to be your friend. Excuse me." (Y/n) retorted before turning her back on the stunned girls, her head held high as she exited the diner, unaware of George following after her. "(Y/n)." He called out to her as she began crossing the street, rushing to step in stride with her. "Oh hello George." (Y/n)'s annoyed expression was quickly replaced with a wondrous smile, making George heart skip a beat. "Thanks for sticking up for me back there." George ducking his head down a little, trying to hide his embarrassment. "Well of course, they had no right to be so rude." (Y/n) hummed with a huff as she thought about what they did. "No one's ever stuck up for me before." George admitted, his words causing (Y/n) to freeze in her tracks. George walked a few more feet before realizing she wasn't following, he turned back with worry in his eyes, only for the worry to be replaced with confusion. "Are you alright?" He asked as he approached (Y/n). "No one's ever stuck up for you before?" (Y/n) questioned with doe like eyes, making George blush. "No." He murmured softly. "George McFly... You're my new best friend, and if anyone picks on you again they'll have to answer to me!" (Y/n) concluded as she looped her arm with George's, making his blush deepen as he allowed her to lead him. "Oh y-you don't have to-to." George stammered over his words. "Oh nonsense you're the most pleasant and interesting person I've met so far in this town. I like you and I want to be your friend." (Y/n) insisted with a smile, unknowingly melting George's heart. "Thanks." Was all he could manage, a wide smile taking over his initial worried expression.
Ask: I'm a sucker for him anyway LOL. And please write more of him!
@: @violetoquinn54
Fandom: Back To The Future Series
Relationship: Biff Tannen x Violet O’Quinn (Not my OC)
Summary: They had their fights, they had their agreements. They had their prejudices and they had their prides. They had their reputations and their futures. But, even when they’re so different, yet so alike, why do they always manage to find each other after pushing themselves away?
Warnings: language, fighting, alcohol consumption, weed and cigarettes, lewd jokes, slightly angsty, implied sexua activities/assault, mentioned deaths, slight bullying (on Violet’s part and her short temper)
Masterlist Back To The Future Masterlist
{gif is not mine, credits go to @brooklynpa-c}
“Mhm. Mhm. Mhm,” Violet nods, victory curls bobbing as she exaggerates her movements. She wasn’t particularly listening anyway, placing and pinning bits of different fabrics on her plush mannequin.
It was the same tale, Lorraine droning on and on about boys, particularly the invincible Biff Tannen, and how either none or all of them want her; it really depends on the day it seems. Violet tries her best to balance the corded phone on her shoulder, eyebrows scrunching as she tries to wrap her creative brain around the style she’s aiming for.
Sighing, she places the container of pins down, settling her easily bubbling nerves as she feels the frustration itch underneath her skin. Reaching in her back pocket, she pulls out a cancer stick, placing the thin roll of crushed drugs between her heavily dyed lips, flicking the lighter for a match.
Inhaling the thick cloud of nicotine, she feels her nerves begin to ease, perching herself on her window sill. Allowing the smoke to escape out and into the warm breeze of summer, she finally decides to indulge Lorraine in a little bit of attention, finally zoning in on the topic.
“He’s just so... so ignorant,” Lorraine sputters, recounting Biff’s attitude towards her earlier today.
“It’s not something he usually doesn’t already do, Lo. He’s had the hots for you since we were at least fucking five,” Violet flicks the burnt ash at the butt of the cigarette.
“Yes, but why must he pester me everyday?” she groans, Violet joining her as she knows this’ll bring on another onslaught of complaints.
Pretending to check her watch, she chokes on the puff she inhaled, the time reading 11:45 pm. “Hey Lo, I know you’re all riled up and ready to beat him down to a stump, but we should sleep at some point.”
Violet hears a rustle and a sigh before Lorraine speaks again, “Yeah, like you sleep anyway.”
Violet snorts, feigning offense by gasping, “Don’t you know I need precisely 8 hours of beauty sleep? A minute more or a minute less would give me bags under my eyes, and - oh - the stress. It’ll break my schedule and surely mess with my hair growth!”
Lorraine giggles as Violet smirks to herself, the pair knowing all too well who she’s mocking. Sure, to some this would be cruel, but if you’d spent at least 5 minutes with Magenta O’Quinn, you’d instantly understand where the drama checks out.
“Besides,” Violet heaves after a good bout of breathy giggles, “We do need to sleep if we plan on going to the Weston Annual Party.” Violet’s face shines in mischief just thinking about the possibilities; she hadn’t had much fun this year with the inheritance, family business, and trying to somewhat stay grounded with decent grades at school.
Maybe she could even branch out, given it’s her last year. Maybe even move on from the familiar broad-shouldered, blue-eyed boy she oftentimes finds sneaking into her room more times than she could count.
“Are you sure you want to get caught up in that mess, Vi? You know who’s gonna be there and you know how he gets with his alcohol,” Lorraine twirls the cord of her phone between her fingers, brain swiping through all the endless scenarios in her head.
“Trust me, ain’t no one messin’ with you there Lorraine. And, if he tries it, he’s never met Violet O’Quinn on a bad day, especially if he thinks he’ll ruin my one night out,” Violet flicks her cigarette out the window, closing it with the lock at the top as she stretches to close the curtains, too. “God knows I need it,” she mutters, staring at the stars outside.
“If you say so, Vi,” Lorraine yawns, “Anyway, we really do need to head to bed. I don’t want my Pops hollering.”
“Alrighty, good night Lorraine,” Violet draws in her signature Southern accent, making sure to talk long and slow to give her one last laugh.
Putting the phone back on the holster, Violet takes a moment to stare at her bed; fluffy, untouched pillows and comforter begging her in with warm arms. Then, slowly, she turns towards the array of mannequins, and with a defeated sigh, her hands find the container of pins again, inspiration spiking once more as she gets lost on her new design.
She couldn’t recall when she’d passed out, but with the horrendous banging and yelling on the other side of her bedroom door, she finds herself jolting up from the cool of her hardwood flooring. Painfully, she hisses upon rubbing her face, pulling one of her pins out of her cheek. “Damn,” she hisses, little dabbles of blood percolating at the small pinprick.
“Violet! Let’s go!” more banging pursues, angering Violet in the slightest bit as she tries to wake up peacefully.
“I’m...Up!” she hollers back.
“Come on, Violet, we only have 5 minutes or you’re gonna be late!” Rusty calls from the door.
“Shit!” Scrambling to her feet, she slides across the flooring with the rest of her pins from the night before, mentally cursing herself for not allowing her the simplest task of just going to sleep for once.
Searching through her clothes, she finds a dark pair of roughed up, denim jeans, rolling the bottom cuffs to allow her boots some wiggle room. Sliding into a white T-shirt, she ties the bottom in a knot, rolling up the tight sleeves and tucking her pack of cigarettes there, completing the outfit with a black belt.
She would’ve gone for something more Violet inspired, but she really had no time to worry about the little things. Lunging for her door, she makes sure to lock it behind her, shuffling down the slim staircase behind a wall, allowing her out of her comfy attic-bedroom-turned-loft.
She grabs her bag at the kitchen counter, catches the side-wandering gaze of her envious younger twin. To make matters worse, Violet steals the toast on her plate before scurrying off to the front door and on the bus before Magenta has the chance to catch her. Opening the window, Violet sticks her head out, “It wouldn’t be so hard to run if you weren’t wearing 10 inch heels, Priss.”
...
“Violet!” the high-pitched girly voice calls after you from the other end of the hallway.
Shoving the rest of her books into her locker, she half-salutes the girl in the huge dress as if to signal she’s coming. Satisfied with what she’s taking and leaving for the weekend, she shuts the locker, places the lock and messes with the numbers, walking down the hall to meet the three teenagers at the end.
Violet tries to ignore the looks she’s given, she has for her whole life. Before her parents’ passings, she was the spoiled Priss who couldn’t manage to even look feminine; unless it was for fashion advice, then Violet was useful and the greatest thing Hill Valley’s ever seen. After the deaths, the looks were mixtures of knowing glances, disgust, and to be made fun of. Either way, she was simply...weird.
“Looking good, Shortcake,” the infamous mountain of a man cat-calls.
“Not too bad yourself,” Violet smiles, taking a small detour to indulge him in conversation. Had it been anyone else, Violet would’ve ripped them a new one, truly wish they’d never spoken or even learned how to talk in the first place. Biff Tannen was special, however.
“I heard from a little birdie that you’re gonna show up to the beer blast tonight,” he smirks, making eye contact with a very disturbed and flustered Lorriane that accidentally catches his eyes.
“That little birdie would be correct,” she states with a neutral expression, hand coming up to his cheek and moving his face back to train his eyes on her. “Though, it’s very rude to speak to someone without the respect of talking directly to them. I’da have to slap you for that one.”
“I wouldn’t be too mad about a little love tap, Shortcake,” he smirks, catching her hand in his lightly, despite his reputation.
As quickly as their hands meet is as quick as she pulls away, hand coming back to hide underneath her books, cradling it to her chest. Suddenly, her foot becomes more interesting than his cute face, shuffling her shoe around as if to look for dirt smudges.
Lifting her chin with his index finger, Biff leans in just the tiniest bit, “I expect to see you there.”
His sentence comes more off as a demand than a question, to which Violet nods with the slightest of a tint in her cheeks, green eyes finding his blue ones to make an unspoken, and rather unneeded, promise.
Scurrying off, her elbow is pulled by Lorraine, “Took you long enough! Come on, us girls are going to find outfits for tonight!”
“Lo, please, I don’t need to be taken on this extravagant shopping trip just for us to end the night with spilled beer, puke, and dirt all over us.”
“First off, ew. Secondly, we need your creative tastes!” Lorraine begs, grabbing Violet’s bag to place it in the back seat of her topless convertible.
Begrudgingly, Violet hops over the car door to sit in the back diagonal of Lorraine in the driver’s seat, side-glancing Babs as she gags way too obviously. “I saw that,” she all but snarls in warning.
Babs straightens in her seat quickly, looking the other direction as Betty rides shotgun. Both girls share a look between themselves and before they have time to check themselves, Violet shuts them down, “I saw that shit, too.” Pulling out another cigarette, Violet lights it and continues, “I also know that neither of you wanted me here,” she smirks viciously, “You aren’t too good at hiding it. I know I was only invited for Lorraine, however, you’re gonna need me if you think you’re gonna be a showstopper tonight. Hell, even a makeover, if possible.”
Easily, both girls take offense and open their mouths in surprise, Lorraine choosing to appear as if she hadn’t heard anything, and Violet blowing a puff of smoke into Babs’ face with a devilish glint in her eye; she accomplished her mission in getting back at them, she didn’t need to say anything more.
...
The shopping, even as entertaining as it was, gave Violet quite the laugh and exhaustion throughout the two hours of being there with the other girls. So much so that she divulged herself in an hour’s nap in order to recharge. She didn’t buy anything that afternoon, no, she had made something better, something much more extravagant.
Standing in the center of her bedroom was a single mannequin, plain except for the outfit bestowed upon it and begging to be worn. Hand-sewn was a cropped tee, the sleeves and edges worn and roughed out to appear used and almost dirty. A crisp white with the word “BITCH” bolded in a deep black. Riding high up to the waist was a black, white, grey, and purple plaid pair of trousers; Violet’s personality shining through with the double belts on the top that hang low to the knees, two zippers on the kneecap and lower thigh and matching set on the pockets and very ends of the ankles. To top off the look, there was a black beanie and purple long sleeved shirt underneath the T-shirt.
Once woken up and prepared for the party, Violet wore the outfit like a badge of honor, one of her greatest works to come by. Before leaving, she added her black boots and grabbed her spiked black denim jacket to sling over her shoulder.
...
Waltzing into the party with a dark pair of shades, Violet quickly feels the overcrowding of people get to her, almost as if she’s becoming claustrophobic. Taking a red solo cup, she fills if with beer ans chugs it fast, refilling the next cup in desperate need to feel the tension in her shoulders leave. It’s been too long since she’s been in a public setting like this, and now that she’s here, all she can feel is the worry and stress of the days to follow this night.
“Ah, fuck it,” she groans, discarding the cup somewhere on the floor to find something stronger. Walking around the house, she finds the living room, people of many kinds either drinking, dancing, making out, smoking, or playing games.
Leaning against the door frame, she observes the people lost in the moment; she used to be a friend of those feelings, so care-free and happy, knowing that one night couldn’t possibly mess with her plans ahead. She was a kid then, a few months changing her almost simultaneously, and now an adult is left behind feeling like she’s missed so much.
Kids cheer in the corner, the familiar game of beer pong causing her to laugh as the poor boy passes out with the sheer amount of shots he was forced to consume. Violet almost considers joining in, but the tap at her shoulder pulls her from her thoughts swiftly.
“There you are!” Lorraine screams, trying to be heard over the loud music.
“Here I am!” Violet calls back with a smile, “Enjoying the party so far?”
“I was about to ask you the same thing!” she smiles, stumbling a little, “I’m having the time of my life! I’m talking to this boy, he’s real sweet!”
Violet nods questioningly, taking in the lack of details and obvious state of her friend, “How much have you had to drink, Lo? Who have you been hanging around with?”
“Roy! Come on, let’s go meet him!” she steals Violet’s forearm, tugging firmly.
“I-I don’t know, Lorraine!”
“Stop being such a wet end, just relax! Roy’s reeeeaalllyyy cool and he’s been such the charmer.”
Violet staggers a bit, staring at Lorraine slightly taken back, following the drunken woman weakly’ her mind working 100 miles a minute and not liking the odds of what this boy seems to be trying to obtain from her friend.
Strolling up to a group of loud boys and girls leaving not a bit of their bodies to the imagination, Lorraine calls out to the boy she spoke so highly of just moments before. “Roy, I want you to meet my friend, Violet O’Quinn.”
“Roy Holtz.” He stood tall and broad, shoulders squared and arms displayed nicely underneath his tight muscle shirt, dark blue skinny jeans displaying his package to what only he feels is a show-stopper. He looks Violet up and down from head to toe, the stupid toothpick bobbing around with the continuous movements of her tongue and grinding of teeth.
“Oh, great, a true charmer,” Violet rolls her eyes, crossing her arms to display a sense of unwant and protection, defensive.
“I don’t think your friend likes me too much, Lorraine,” he giggles, “Why don’t you come and hang out with me instead, huh? I can show you a fun time.”
“Lorraine isn’t going anywhere with you, Dick.”
“Oh no, and why’s that?” he snarls, stepping up to be almost chest to chest with a much shorter Violet, her 5′2″ stature being no match to Roy’s 10 inch difference. “You want some of me instead, is that it? You jealous she’s getting my attention?
Shoving him away from her with the tips of her fingers, she looks him dead in the eye, “You’re stepping on the wrong toes if you think you’re gonna get lucky with her tonight, you hear me? You’re severely mistaken if you think you’re gonna do so much as even touch her.”
“Oh, look at the mouth on you,” Roy advances towards her again, Lorraine being long forgotten. “Just imagine all the wonders it can do,” his hands snake around to grip her ass firmly, giving it a nice squeeze.
Quickly, Violet’s hand balls into fists at her sides, shoving him off of her with immense anger. Roy falls back at the force of her and, with a few shuffled steps, Roy gathers himself with an almost matched anger. “You Bitch,” he spits, scolding the girl for her defiance.
“Fuck you,” she spits at him, saliva gathering all over his eyes.
Her actions, albeit greatly intended to piss him off, are greatly regretted as Roy cocks back his arm, fist colliding with Violet’s face before she has the chance to dodge it. Staggering back with a hand to her jaw, her vision quickly shines red, body lowering to tackle the taller guy, shoulder jabbing into his stomach to throw him off balance.
Lunging on top of him, Violet’s hands land endless blows to Roy’s face, pummeling him to the ground. Snatching her elbow just as she goes to land another punch, Roy pins it back in a painful angle, throwing her body off of his as he goes to switch their positions, a fist flying into her nose intentionally.
Somewhere, in his sick mind, his desire to see her bleed grew as the first hit didn’t quite break her nose. Her eyes tear up as another blow was thrown directly after the last, a small dabble of blood finding the rim of her nose as she feels the audible crack.
Knee hiking up from underneath Roy, Violet aims for the groin, missing but managing to use it as a block. Pushing up again, her knee pushes Roy off her once more, hand grabbing his arm and pinning it behind his back. Sitting on top of the boy again, Violet pushes the arm high enough to earn a pained cry, other hand fisting his hair to bring his head back.
Forcing him to look her in the eyes, green eyes devoid of any emotion, she all but snarls, “You ever think of using another girl again, I’ll know about it. When you think of harming them, you’ll think of me.” Violet forces her hand down, smashing Roy’s head into the pavement below them before forcing his head back again, “Do I make myself clear?”
He nods.
“I said, ‘Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?’”
“Y-Yes. Yes, ma’am.”
“That’s what I thought. Let this embarrassment be your warning, hm?”
“Yes.”
Dubbing his fear an earned win, Violet lets the boy go with the drop of his head, removing herself from on top of him. Standing above him, her eyes find the crowd that had formed around them, suddenly feeling the center of everyone’s attention. Looking for Lorraine, she watches as the girl makes a run for it, Violet quickly tearing through the crowd to chase after her, “Lorraine!”
Lorraine makes a break for the sliding glass door of the patio in the backyard, turning around momentarily to remark how close Violet was getting, eyes widening as her eyes catch something from behind. “Violet!” she calls, Roy getting up and gaining on Violet once more.
However, her warning was too late, Roy tackling Violet again, throwing her head into the pavement just as he head, only he repeats the actions multiple times. Just as Violet feels her head spin and vision start to display stars, all actions stop.
Lazily, her head turns towards her side, just catching the end of Roy’s continued war. A swift blow effectively knocks all sense of consciousness out of him, the tall victor standing above him like a waking nightmare. Fully aware of the damage he’s done, he stares at his knuckles, then turns to meet Violet’s eyes.
“You love getting yourself into trouble, huh?” Biff’s warm and deep voice paves a way through Violet’s clouded mind, huge arms coming to wrap around her limp body.
“Pervert deserved it,” she mumbles, eyes heavily lidded with the awaiting bruising and pain, adrenaline starting to run low.
“I know,” he smirks, opening the sliding door and walking you up the stairs to the bathroom in his friend’s room. “Sometimes you need to pace yourself, though. You almost didn’t make it through this one.”
“I knew you’d come to the rescue,” Violet smirks, allowing Biff to place her on the sink to get a better look at the damage.
“It’s still stupid, Tex. You don’t have to assert your dominance over every guy.”
Violet laughs, eyes closing at Biff pats the warm wash cloth over her eyes and forehead, wiping up the blood. “It’s not my fault they have shrimp dicks.”
“Guess that means I don’t have a shrimp dick then, huh?” he smiles widely.
“Oh hush,” Violet giggles, cheeks just dusting with a red tint.
“I’m serious though, Tiny, you could’ve gotten extremely hurt,” Biff’s hand finds her chin again, lifting her head with the intent of meeting her eyes and further exaggerating his point.
Suddenly, Violet feels the air shift, smile leaving her lips to show her full attention, “I know, Biff, but I had him. He was trying to use Lorraine and - I don’t know, I-”
“You felt the need to protect her,” he rolls his eyes.
“Yeah because I care for her. She’s my friend.”
Biff sighs amused, “Tex, why do you think I’m always here to end your fights for?”
Violet’s eyes widen at the question, both confusion and awe causing her walls to fall down and collapse around her. “I-I don’t know.”
“Well I ain’t taking punches just because I’m your friend, Tex.”
Violet gasps again, “Are you saying you have feelings? Biff Howard Tannen, are you saying you care about me?
“Well, I’m still here, ain’t I? I haven’t strayed like everyone else has.”
“So, you do then. Even with all of our fighting and bickering? The constant one-upping?”
“Are you really gonna make me say it, Tiny?”
“I think I need a little clarifying,” Violet grins, face slowly inching forwards.
Biff finds himself lowering his body, hands on either side of Violet’s thighs on the sink, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Violet O’Quinn.”
“You wouldn’t want it any other way, Tannen.”
Lips colliding in a passionate frenzy, Violet’s hands wrap around the huge man’s neck, hand playing with the hair at the base of his neck. Biff’s tongue drags along the bottom of her lip, begging for entrance, but in Violet’s defiance and typical teasing, she doesn’t allow him access. Groaning, his teeth nibble at her lip, encouraging a gasp that lets his tongue slide in freely.
Quietly, Violet whimpers, legs widening to allow Biff to step in closer, his hands lifting to cup her jaw carefully. With the begging of their lungs, the pair pull away with labored breaths, Biff capturing Violet’s bottom lip in her teeth for a moment before pulling away, foreheads colliding against one another’s.
“I love you, Tex.”
“I know you do, Tannen,” Violet giggles, another groan meeting her as his head falls in the crook of her neck. Slowly picking his head up with her hands, she watches as he molds to her like putty, face nuzzling into her palms. “And, that’s why I love you, too.”
“Don’t say the ‘too’ at the end... makes it sound like you’re agreeing with me,” he smirks, eyes trained on her face with adoration.
“I love you, Biff Tannen.”
“There it is,” he smiles, leaning in for another kiss.
Smoothing our her skirt Y/N sighed, just like the owner of the Vehicle the red leather of the car seat provided no comfort of any kind and yet she stayed in hopes that one day he’d notice her. The dance was coming up soon but she still had no date. How could she even consider another when he was the only one she wanted. Storming over to the car the gigantic male scowled in disgust muttering to himself “nobody turns me down for that butthead.” His rough hands gripped the steering wheel turning his knuckles white in frustration. “You’re swell Biff She’ll see.” The y/h/c girl offered in comfort her dainty hand gently squeezing his. Biff growled before doing what he did best complaining about how stupid Lorraine Baines was to reject him for the umpteenth time. Y/N never understood what was so amazing about Lorraine. Sure she was nice, somewhat smart and had an alright body but why was she the be all and end all for Biff. Every day it was Lorraine this and Lorraine that, she could never escape.
Hot tears filled her y/e/c orbs as the motor turned into the quite suburban street. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” The girl question in a hopeful tone a faux smile graced her cherry red lips. Shrugging her off Biff drove off radio blaring some random college football scores. With each step up the cobbled path the ability to contain her tears lessened. The hum of Frank Sinatra drowned out her cries but it couldn’t mend her breaking heart.
A/N not fantastic Ik but slowly getting back into writing lol just need that one piece to get the creative juices flowing as they say 😅
