#BTTF Fanfic

[sporesmoldandfungi]

roll with me - marty mcfly x reader

A/N : yes i know my tumblr is mainly ghostbusters related things but im in a bttf phase rn and there's not enough marty mcfly works. i will probably make this a series until i run out of gas lol. ignore any grammar and spelling errors, i typed this at two am last night :))))) enjoy!!

"God damn it, McFly..." she muttered under her breath, seeing her grandfather's house in a complete mess. It looked like a tornado had flown through the already messy and cluttered home. Walking over pieces of broken metal and random items cluttering the floor, she reached the workbench. On top of it, lay a note in messy handwriting.

Sorry about the mess, I couldn't resist trying the new amp. Promise I'll come by sometime to make it up to you. See you tonight.

-Marty

She crumpled the note and threw it over her shoulder to join the rest of the mess. She couldn't for the life of her understand why her grandfather, a brilliant albeit cooky scientist, chose to keep Marty McFly as company.

Sure, he was funny, kind, sometimes charming, and was nothing but good to Doc, but Y/N still didn't understand what he saw in Marty. He wasn't as smart as her. He was careless. He didn't even have a real interest in science. The better question would be, why did Marty McFly hang around Doc Brown?

Their relationship often crossed her mind, seeing as she often had to fight Marty for her grandfather's attention, and it was also downright strange. Nevertheless, she had to get used to Marty, it was obvious he wasn't going anywhere.

Y/N tinkered on the leftover gadgets Doc had entrusted her with to finish while he was gone. She looked at the many clocks that littered the walls.

4:25

"Four o'clock. Okay, Brown, you've got..." She stopped to look at her wristwatch. "About nine hours to get this place back together for Pop."

She picked up the broom and began sweeping up piles of the broken amplifier. As she cleaned the destroyed living room, her thoughts kept going back to Marty. For all the good qualities he had, he sure was selfish. 'I'll make it up to you sometime.' my ass.

It took her until nightfall to finish cleaning the house, including the rotting dog food her grandfather left in Einstein's bowl. She made herself a quick meal and plopped in front of the TV, catching the last few stories from the ten o'clock news.

She eventually dozed off, the TV still playing in the background. Just before she was about to drift into a deep sleep, she heard the backdoor creak open then close quietly. She opened up one eye to see Marty tiptoeing through the room.

"Hey, McFly." Y/N said, yawning and sitting up.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, turning around to see her rubbing her eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly. "Hey, Y/N. You picked up the place pretty quickly."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, thanks for that mess by the way, it was a great way to start my weekend. What are you doing here anyways? I thought I was meeting you at the Twin Pines Mall?"

"Doc asked me to pick up the camera on my way there. Probably a good thing I stopped by, from the looks of it, you were about to go into a coma." He smirked.

"Shut up." She muttered.

As Marty looked for the camera, she threw her acid wash jacket on and began lacing up her high tops. By the time she started grabbing her scooter from the spare closet, he had found the camera and was carrying it triumphantly.

He slung it around his shoulder, following Y/N out the door. She mounted the scooter, waiting for Marty to grab his skateboard. He looked her up and down and chuckled.

She frowned, "What's so funny, McFly?"

"When are you finally gonna let me teach you to ride in style, Y/N? You look like a kindergartener on that thing."

"You talk a big game. Are you forgetting I beat you almost every time we race?" She smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He mocked. Marty got situated, ready to take off. "Come on, Y/N, no more kid stuff or we're gonna be late."

She smirked, "What's wrong McFly? Chicken?"

She saw him freeze and turn around slowly. "What did you call me?"

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, keeping the scooter upright by balancing it between her knees. "You heard me."

Marty approached her angrily, waving a finger in her face. "No one calls me chicken, Brown, nobody."

Their noses were almost touching as he stared down at her. She looked up at him, internally flustered, externally smug. "We'll see about that."

In a flash, she took off towards the mall, leaving Marty speechless in the dust. He quickly got back on his skateboard, hurrying to catch up with her. Marty could see Y/N's head thrown back, laughing to herself as she rode ahead. Although he was pissed, he couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight of her. He had been trying for as long as he knew her, to be her friend. While her grandfather, Doc Brown, was one of the friendliest people he had ever met, his granddaughter, Y/N was as stubborn as a mule. She never flashed her charming smile his way unless it was at his expense. They had a lot in common. Their uncommon modes of transportation, their love of rock n' roll, their love of Doc. Yet, there she stood, relishing in his humility.

They continued the race all the way up to the mall. Although Marty had tried to catch up, the head start Y/N got proved to be just enough for her to win. He kicked up the skateboard, sticking it under his armpit and jogging towards Doc and Y/N, who was already talking excitedly with him.

Doc heard the footsteps and turned to face him, his face lighting up at the sight of the boy. "Marty! You made it! Did you bring the camera?"

Marty checked to see if it was still slung around his shoulder, it was. "Yeah, yeah. Where have you been the past week, Doc?"

"I've been working on something big, Marty, something very big. I've been waiting thirty years for this day." Doc said, walking around the large truck parked beside them. Y/N and Marty followed behind, seeing Einstein as they turned the corner. They both pet him as they continued to follow Doc. The three of them stopped in front of the parked DeLorean.

Doc and Y/N smiled at the sight of it, while Marty looked confused. "A DeLorean?"

"All of your questions will be answered soon, Marty. Roll the tape. Y/N, make sure he's getting all of this." Doc instructed, standing by the DeLorean.

They both nodded. Marty held up the camera, beginning to record while Y/N watched.

Doc cleared his throat before speaking. "Good evening. I'm Dr. Emmett Brown. I'm standing on the parking lot at Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26, 1985, 1:18 a.m., and this is temporal experiment number one." He paused for a moment, then turned his attention to Einstein. "Come on, Einie. Hey, hey, boy, get in there."

Doc opened the door to the driver's seat, helping the dog into the front seat. "That a boy! In you go. Sit down. Put your seat belt on. That's it." He instructed, getting the obedient dog situated.

The confusion on Marty's face grew as he looked on. Doc leaned down to hold up his watch as well as the one hanging around Einstein's neck. Doc held it up towards the camera. Y/N nudged Marty, motioning for him to zoom in on the clocks.

"Please note that Einstein's clock is in precise synchronization with my control watch." Doc put the watches down and double checked that Marty was getting all of this.

Marty gave him a thumbs up and Doc began closing the door, then joining the two in front of the car. He pulled out a remote control from his pocket and began pushing the joysticks forward. Marty looked at it and asked, "You got that thing hooked up to the car?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, "No shit, Sherlock."

The DeLorean began to rumble with the sound of the engine. Marty was still focused on the remote.

Doc smiled, pushing the joysticks forward, "Watch this." The DeLorean began to move, but Marty was still distracted. Y/N rolled her eyes again and grabbed the camera, moving it to focus on the car. The DeLorean turned sharply and lined up in front of the three, albeit from all the way across the lot. Doc looked at the two teens, smirking. "If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious shit."

The tires screeched loudly before accelerating quickly towards the group. As the car got closer, Marty tried moving away before the car reached them, Doc and Y/N both pulled him back. He looked at the two, seeing that they both had the same crazy, wild-eyed expression on their faces. His attention was quickly drawn back to the fast-approaching car. Just as the car was about to hit them, a bright light flashed and the car disappeared, leaving only behind two trails of fires where the wheels would be. The three of them turned around, looking at the empty lot behind them. Doc and Y/N began cheering, jumping up and down and running in circles. Marty, still confused, stared on.

He heard the two talking to each other, breaking his prior concentration. He quickly approached them, "Jesus Christ, Doc! You disintegrated Einstein!"

Doc turned to the confused and frightened teen. "Calm down, Marty. I didn't disintegrate anything. The molecular structure of the car and Einstein are completely intact!"

"Then where the hell are they!?" He screamed, pacing.

"Not where, McFly, when." Y/N smirked.

"You see, Einstein has just become the world's first time traveler. I sent him into the future. One minute into the future, to be exact. At precisely 1:21 a.m. and zero seconds, we shall catch up with him and the time machine." Doc explained, the joy still spread on his face.

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc. Are you trying to tell me that you built a time machine out of a DeLorean?" Marty asked, not believing what he was hearing.

"The way I see it, if you're going to build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style? Besides, the stainless-steel construction made the flux dispersal..." Doc started, but the beeping of his watch interrupted him. He quickly grabbed Marty, "Watch out!"

Marty instinctively grabbed ahold of Y/N pulling her away along with him, just as the DeLorean came speeding back into the parking lot. The car was covered in ice, steam protruding off of it. As Doc ran to the car, ready to open the door, Mary and Y/N stood back. They both looked down at their interlaced fingers and blushed. Y/N was the first to let go, shaking her hand slightly as she walked towards Doc and the car.

After seeing that Einstein was okay and intact, Marty finished filming the last bits of the dog's short journey through time, how the machine worked, and Doc reliving the day he first came up with the idea of time travel before Doc ushered him and Y/N away to put on radiation suits. They entered the large van and began suiting up. The air was thick with a tension that was unknown to either one of them. Marty was the first to attempt to break the silence.

"So, uh, you knew about this time travel thing, and you didn't tell me?"

She scoffed, "Why would I tell you, McFly?"

He zipped up the suit, walking over to her. "You can't just ignore it, Y/N."

She was looking down, putting her legs into the suit. "Ignore what?"

"Me. Us."

She looked up, seeing the seriousness in his face. "What do you mean us?"

"You mean to tell me you didn't feel what I felt back there?" he asked.

She stood up, sliding the rest of the suit on. "Excitement? I mean who wouldn't be when they witnessed time travel? It's not something you see every day, McFly."

"Goddamn it, Y/N. I'm being serious." Marty said, running his hand through his hair.

"So am I, you aren't very direct when you speak." She said, beginning to walk away.

He groaned and grabbed her by the waist pulling her close to him. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him with the same doe-eyed expression that she had when their hands were intertwined. Still holding her to his chest, he took one hand and pointed at her face. "That, that face. It tells me that you feel the same way I do whenever we touch."

She let herself be held by him, before snapping back into reality and pushing herself off. She walked towards the door, opening it. "Come on, Doc's probably wondering what's taking so long."

Marty watched as she left, thinking to himself, "Why does she have to be so goddamn stubborn?"

He joined them outside, listening to the tail end of their conversation. "... so, I took their Plutonium, and I gave them a shoddy bomb casing full of used pinball machine parts!"

"Pop... that's really dangerous, are you sure it's under control?" Y/N asked, concern lacing her face.

Doc waved off her words, "Never mind that, Marty, get that camera ready. Y/N, grab my luggage from the truck and bring it here. " The teens followed Doc's instructions as he took his seat in the driver's seat. Y/N finally joined Marty's side, who was already filming Doc.

"I, Dr. Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey." Doc began but stopped and chuckled to himself. "What am I thinking of? I almost forgot to bring extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back? One pellet, one trip. I must be out of my mind." He stood up, walking over to his equipment, but stopped when he heard Einstein barking. Doc walked over to the barking creature, "What is it Einie?" His face then drained of all color, and he looked on in horror.

Marty and Y/N shared a worried glance before joining him at his side.

Doc began to speak, still looking ahead in horror. "They found me, I don't know how, but they found me."

Marty and Y/N followed his stare and saw a small, green van suddenly turn its headlights on as it drove towards them. Einstein quickly ran into the safety of Doc's equipment van. The three of them could make out the figure of a man standing out of the sunroof. Doc turned to the two and quickly pushed them away.

"Run for it!" He cried.

Marty quickly grabbed Y/N's hand and ran back towards the DeLorean. She gripped his hand tightly as they looked at Doc as the headlight shone brighter and brighter on him. They watched as he raised his hands in surrender. The car screeched to a stop, and they saw the man in the sunroof aim a large gun at Doc. Y/N started to run towards her grandfather, but the man had already opened fire on Doc. She screamed and fell to her knees.

Marty stood behind her, tears filing his eyes. He screamed out, "No! You bastards!"

The man's attention was now on the mourning pair. Marty watched as the man began to aim his gun at Y/N's head as she crawled towards Doc's lifeless body. Marty ran forward, tackling her and moving her out of the way as bullets ricocheted off the pavement next to them. He shielded her body with his own. They both braced for the impact of the bullets but heard the gun clicking instead. Marty lifted his head to see the gunman struggling with the weapon. He quickly pulled Y/N up and led her toward the idle DeLorean. He threw open the passenger's door, practically tossing the mourning Y/N into the seat. He followed suit, hopping into the driver's seat. Marty quickly turned on the ignition and sped away from the men who from the looks of it, finally got their weapon back in working order.

The bullets were heard on either side of the vehicle, just barely missing it. Y/N screamed as Marty continued to drive as fast as he could. The Libyan's van grew closer and closer as Marty frantically tried to drive out of the mall's parking lot. The DeLorean shook as the Libyan's van hit the back bumper.

Marty looked down at the speedometer, "Let's see if you bastards can do 90."

Y/N's eyes widened, "No!"

He looked at her confused then back at the rapidly increasing speed. He watched as it climbed closer and closer to 90. "What's the problem? You want to end up like Doc? Or do you wanna get the hell out of here?"

"McFly, do you remember what happens when the car hits 88 miles an hour?" She asked, watching as the speedometer reached top speeds.

Marty's eyes widened in fear, realizing what was about to happen. Before he could step on the brakes, the car lit up with blinding, blue light. The light temporarily blinded both of them as the car went back to driving in complete darkness. As Marty's vision adjusted back to normal, his eyes widened as the DeLorean hit a pine tree.

"Look out!" Y/N shouted as they drove towards a lone barn in the distance.

Marty tried to get the car to turn, but it was too late, the DeLorean hurled through the side of the bar, crash-landing in a pile of hay. They both groaned at the impact. Marty began undoing his seatbelt, once free, he turned his attention to the girl next to him. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her eyes not meeting his. She was fixated on something in front of them. Marty followed her gaze and saw a light coming from one of the barn doors. He turned to Y/N, "Stay here, I'm gonna check this out."

He opened the driver's door, bumping his head as he exited, making his radiation helmet fly over his head. From inside the helmet, he could make out the silhouettes of two adults and two children. He was also able to make out the sound of their frightened screams, no doubt afraid that Marty was an intruder. He raised his hands up in defense, trying to calm them down. As he stepped through the large hay pile towards the family, he saw one of the adults raise what looked like a shotgun up at him.

"Shit!" he cried, flinging himself back in the car.

As the figure fired the first shot, Marty had already driven back out of the barn and away from the family. He found a road and sharply turned on it, still speeding away.

"Okay, McFly. Get a grip on yourself, this is all a dream. It's just a very intense dream." Marty said to himself as he drove. He turned to face Y/N who looked as frantic and confused as he was. "This has to be a dream, right?"

Before she could respond, her eyes widened, and she quickly reached for the steering wheel. Marty looked ahead and saw the approaching vehicle she was trying to avoid. She turned it sharply, making them swerve to the side. Marty slammed on the brakes before they made an impact with the car. They were both panting, having just escaped death three times in five minutes.

Marty and Y/N both stepped out of the vehicle, approaching the black car in front of them. They walked to the driver's side window, seeing an older couple in the front seats. They both looked frightened at the sight of the two strangely dressed teens. Marty leaned his head down, to talk to the man driving.

"Hey, listen, you got to help us," Marty said to the man, but his wife was urging him to drive away. The old man took one glance at Marty and Y/N before hitting the gas and speeding away from them.

Marty groaned, walking back towards Y/N. She was leaning against the hood of the DeLorean, staring ahead. "Y/N?" he asked, trying to get her attention, but she continued to stare. He groaned again and placed his hands on her shoulders, slightly shaking her. "Y/N, you got to help out here. Where the hell are we?"

Y/N finally met his gaze. His eyes were wide and full of confusion. He had sweat forming in the base of his hair, starting to travel down the sides of his face. He looked at her with so much emotion, hoping she could somehow make this all go away. She gently removed his hands from her shoulder and spun him to face what she was looking at. She pointed ahead, "Does that give you a hint?"

Marty followed her finger to see the entrance to his neighborhood. Only there was no neighborhood, no houses, no streets. Just the two pieces of stone that read Lyon Estates. He looked to the side and saw a billboard advertising the neighborhood that was still not built. His eyes widened once more, realizing the gravity of their situation.

"It can't be." He whispered.

Y/N walked back towards the passenger seat, starting to take off her radiation suit. Marty stared ahead for only a moment before opening the driver's door. He sat down beside her, attempting to turn the car back on.

"Don't even bother." Y/N said, making Marty stop his actions and look at her. "It won't work. Remember what Doc said, it needs Plutonium to run. One pellet, one trip."

"So, are you trying to tell me we're stuck here? Wherever the hell this is." Marty asked.

She stood up, stepping out of the suit, tossing it in the car. She ignored his question, instead saying, "Come on, help me push it behind that billboard. We got to go into town, so I can figure out a way for us to get out of here."

Y/N slammed the door shut, making Marty jump. He quickly threw off his radiation suit and joined Y/N at the back of the car. They pushed it off the road and into the field, rolling it behind the large billboard for Lyon Estates. Y/N wiped her hands on her jeans before walking back onto the road, making Marty follow suit. They both began walking to where the black car had driven off. Neither of them said a word to each other, both too caught up in their thoughts to speak. Marty looked up to see a road sign that read,

Hill Valley: 2 Miles

"This is heavy."

[ash5monster01]

Could you pretty please do Marty Mcfly x reader? One where they're friends and they're hanging out in the Doc's garage and marty is showing her everything and idk where to go from there.

I'm so glad you write for him. I feel like he gets no attention!

Thank you!

All of You

Pairing: Marty McFly x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, unreciprocated feelings, self doubt, cheesy lovesick teenagers, soft intimacy. 

Summary: When your lifelong friend and short time crush invites you to spend an evening in Doc’s garage, you don’t expect the outcome it actually brings. 

word count: 1.5k

Masterlist

When you had agreed to join Marty during practice tonight, that is what you had expected him to do. Especially since he was dead set on landing the school dance gig. Yet the second you walk through the doors of Doc's garage that entire plan is thrown to the wind. Marty takes one look at your curious eyes and next you know he's showing you everything the large garage witheld. Every trinket, experiment, odd and end. It started with the clocks, him explaining Doc’s incessant need to collect so many. Then it spiraled from there, a prideful look on his face as he explained all the mystical things the garage held. 

“You know, I’d think you’d be more into science then you actually are based on how much you know about this stuff” you tell him while he’s showing you a particularly weird trinket, not even beginning to understand what it does or at least what Doc says it does. 

“I don’t know, I find it interesting, but science has never really come to me. Not like it does for Doc” Marty shrugs, hands reaching to set down one of Doc’s inventions. You knew he really cared for his relationship with the older man, most likely because he wasn’t all that close with his father. 

“I don’t think you’re giving yourself the benefit of the doubt. You’re smart Marty, I’ve known that my whole life” you tell him, hand reaching to squeeze his shoulder and you miss the way he tenses at your touch. The longing in his eyes as he lets the compliment settle into his bloodstream. 

“Don’t you hear Mr. Strickland? You’re a slacker Marty” the boy mocks the teachers voice, flopping onto the couch and closing his eyes. You sigh and move closer to him, taking a seat in the spot beside him before setting a comforting hand on his thigh. 

“You’re not a slacker Marty, in fact you’re one of the most dedicated guys I know. You need to stop being so hard on yourself” you say a touch annoyed. It was exhausting how often you had to remind the boy how amazing he was. His attitude was a direct response from years of watching his Dad think he wasn’t good enough. To you he was one of the most caring and genuine people you knew. 

“I know, but why should I if you’ve got all the confidence I need” he says, a teasing tone and smirk on his face. You roll your eyes and give him a slight shove, trying not to smile when he laughs loudly at the action. 

“It’s exhausting carrying around mine and you’re own confidence. Besides, you need yours to land this band gig. Which brings me to my next point which is you haven’t even attempted to practice yet” you tell him, a pointed but unserious look on your face. If you were being honest he didn’t really need the practice. He was already amazing at what he did. Sometimes he got carried away but that was rock n’ roll, it’s how to was supposed to be. 

“I don’t want to practice. I just want to sit here with you” and he instantly blushes at how whiny and needy he sounds, especially towards his own best friend. You don’t even notice though, trying to mask your own heart stuttering in your chest at the sentiment. 

“If that’s all you want, who am I to complain” you say before readjusting and leaning into him. You try not to focus on how warm he is or the way your palms begin to sweat from nervousness. This was Marty after all, you’re eldest friend and the one person in the world you should be the most comfortable with. Yet the thing about crushes is you couldn’t control the things they will do to you. No matter who it’s on. 

Marty doesn’t expect the closeness but allows it anyway, lifting his arm so you can tuck up underneath his side, lowering it around you the second you’re comfortable. He prays you can’t feel his heart racing in his chest, the way you settle against him so naturally, it made him wish you were his. The one person in this world to love and to keep. Not be held back from kissing you or telling you how he feels every time he fears he will lose you as a friend. 

“You ever wonder what it would be like to be more than friends?” You blurt out, a mix of confidence and desperation causing you to ask the blunt question. Maybe it was easier because he couldn’t see your face. Or maybe it was the annoyance over how you could be so close to him like this and not gain anything from it. You were tired of tip toeing around the fact that he was the one person in this world you truly loved and couldn’t do a damn thing about it. 

“What?” Marty asks, a bit shocked and thrown off guard and you can’t help the way you stiffen beside him. 

“It’s just, we spend so much time together and I’ve never been uncomfortable. It just seems weird that two people who know each other so intimately haven’t been, well, intimate” you blush a deep red, even the tips of your ears fading into a soft pink, thankful he still couldn’t see your face head on. Yet you thought to soon because Martys hand is grasping your chin, turning to look him in the eye where you can see his own face is a soft shade of pink as well. 

“I’m not really sure what to say” and suddenly you’re embarrassed, that confidence long gone as you begin to shake your head, and fight of the burning feeling at the back of your eyes. 

“I’m sorry, I’m being stupid, I shouldn’t of said anything” you start to move away from him, feeling like an idiot and ashamed you would even bring it up. Yet his hand on your arm stops you, your eyes glancing at his grip and then up to meet his own, a desperation and something else entirely bubbling underneath the surface. 

“It’s not stupid, in fact I think about it all the time myself if I’m being honest” he admits sheepishly, eye glancing anywhere but your own and you swear your heart freezes in your chest. Trying to understand what this could really truly mean and if it would mean what you hope it does. 

“Really? And it doesn’t weird you out?” You ask and the boy snorts, trying not to laugh too loudly because you had amused him with such a silly question. 

“Why would it weird me out? Just because I’m your friend doesn’t mean I don’t notice how gorgeous you are. In fact it’s kinda hard not to notice especially since your my favorite person in this world” he says like it’s the most obvious thing and now you’re sure your entire body is fire truck red because the boy you loved just called you gorgeous. 

“Yeah well if you weren’t so damn cute all the time neither of us would be in this predicament” you agree and finally Marty smiles because he knows you. He knows this is your way of joking about your feelings to soften the blow if it doesn’t go your way. That if right now he said he didn’t want you it could be a cushion to protect you from the punch. 

“Hey, I like you more than friends. I never had to wonder because it’s how I always look at you” and you gulp nervously, not expecting the forthcoming honesty, considering this whole conversation had been you both tip toeing around each other. 

“Really?” You ask, voice slightly shaky and mostly hopeful and Marty smiles, pulling you close. When he doesn’t provide an answer you feel the panic begin to swell but then suddenly his nose is nudging against your own, hot breath fanning across you lips, and just like that you’re puddy in the boys hands. His answer comes when his lips press softly against your own, not to desperate but just enough to get the point ocross. It takes a moment to even process what was happening, how you were locking lips with your best friend, but when reality sets in you can’t help how desperately you kiss him back. Needing to feel closer to him in this moment than you ever have. After was feels like hours he finally pulls away, pecking one soft kiss into your lips before his eyes focus into your own.

“Believe me now?” He says, oozing the confidence you had tried to pull out of him when you had first gotten here and you can’t help the way you giggle as you hug him close.

“Yeah, I believe you” 

[riordanness]

imgonnagetyouback — [m.mcfly]

a marty mcfly x friend? enemy? coworker? fanfiction, set in the first back to the future movie (coming soon!!)

“imgonnagetyouback <3” playlist

— 🎸 ᯾ ⌚️ ❀ 🛹 ✞ 🏎️ ���︎︎ 🕰️ ༄

— 🎸 ᯾ ⌚️ ❀ 🛹 ✞ 🏎️ ☘︎︎ 🕰️ ༄

She skids to a stop, her skateboard scraping against the asphalt. Her eyes darken a little as she spots him approaching.

“What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night?” she yells, cupping her hands over her mouth.

His blue eyes glance up abruptly. “Oh, Christ, hello.”

“Hello.” She raises an eyebrow and her hands are immediately on her hips.

“I—I’m meeting Doc,” Marty tries to explain.

“You still hang out with that crazy scientist?”

“He’s not crazy. He… he says he’s got something.”

“Then I’m coming,” she announces, her tone clearly not asking for permission. “I like midnight adventures.”

— 🎸 ᯾ ⌚️ ❀ 🛹 ✞ 🏎️ ☘︎︎ 🕰️ ༄

in which,, a girl gets caught up in a time travelling mess with a boy she’d much rather punch than help out, but time is running out, and if she wants to get home, they must joins forces so they can get back to the future.

— 🎸 ᯾ ⌚️ ❀ 🛹 ✞ 🏎️ ☘︎︎ 🕰️ ༄

comment to be added to the taglist!! coming soon <3

[happy74827]

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.

[justcallmecoby]

Every once in a while i really get into the idea of wanting to make a BTTF fanfic and i start some really hardcore planing and storylining for a few days but then I ALWAYS get waaaay too confused with the cannon timeline and give up.

For example, last time i did this the main idea was a 2010/15 Marty (now of course the rockstar he always wanted to be with the right foot forward into his 40s) trying to contact and meet movie 2 future doc after doc promised him he will "Say hi to him when he gets there". I really thought this was a clever loophole for a continuation of the story after the pretty final ending of the time machine being destroyed.

THE PROBLEM WITH THIS IS THOUGH THAT THE FUTURE IS DIFFERENT ISNT IT?! Marty at the end of movie 3 gets over his weakness to being called a coward RIGHT? So that would change the future and his way of life possibly getting him to his dream of becoming a rockstar. But if the future is different... his son would never get into trouble because he possibly a) doesont even exist or b) theres no biff problem because marty is no longer a coward so he would never get into the trouble marty in movie 2 has to solve in 2015. So if marty junior doesont get into trouble, doc doesont neED TO GET BACK TO 1985 TO GET MARTY TO 2015 TO SAVE THE PROBLEM SO MARTY NEVER BUYS THAT SPORTS ALMANAC FROM THE ANTIQE STORE SO OLD BIFF NEVER GETS TO IT AND NEVER FINDS OUT ABOUT THE TIME MACHINE SO HE DOESONT CAUSE THE 1985 TIMELINE TO CHANGE SO MARTY DOESONT NEED TO RETURN TO 1955 TO FIX THE TIMELINE SO DOC NEVER ACCIDENTALY TIMETRAVELS TO 1885 AND MARTY DOESONT GET STUCK IN 1955 SO HE NEVER GETS THE 1955 VERSION OF DOC TO GET HIM TO THE WILD WEST SO HE DOESONT EVER SAVE DOCS LIFE AND DOESONT RETURN BACK TO 1985 TO GET JENNIFER AND THAT MEANS THAT

HE.

NEVER.

GETS.

OVER.

HIS.

WEAKNESS.

OF BEING CALLED A COWARD!!!

*sigh* so...if he never gets over his weakness...the 2015 marty shouldnt change... but if 1985 marty never meets 2015 doc the timeline MUST change.......

Maybe..maybe im glad Back to the future is only a trilogy. That way it makes at least a little more sence. Yea...

...its probably better that i never got to write a fanfic continuation or id go insane.

[theaawalker]

The Time Travelers ⌚ [Marty Mcfly x Y/N]

Pairing: Marty McFly x Fem!Y/N Song Inspo: Marty McFly by Luke Christopher Word Count: 1,728 Summary: You, Marty, and Doc Brown formed a formidable team. You were always by Marty's side, assisting with Doc's eccentric experiments. Unbeknownst to you, Marty shared your feelings but hadn't yet found the right moment to express them. He had planned to ask you out after Doc's latest experiment, but things took a dangerous turn when adversaries of Doc attacked, forcing you both to flee for your lives. Warnings: sexual harassment, some violence (non-graphic) Masterlist: see fandoms (pc-friendly)

"Marty! They're catching up!"

"I know, (Y/N)! Damn it, I know!"

Marty pressed harder on the gas pedal, accelerating rapidly. "Marty, wait! 88 miles per hour—" Too late. The next moment, you crashed into a barn.

You groaned and checked yourself for injuries, noticing Marty struggling with a hazmat helmet.

"I'll be quick," he mumbled through the mask. You waited anxiously until Marty returned to the car, gunfire echoing in the distance.

"What's happening?!" you shouted. "Hold on!" he replied, speeding away again with shots trailing behind you.

[ TIME SKIP AKA TIME TRAVEL ]

Marty drove to your neighborhood, but something was off. The area hadn't been developed yet.

"What should we do?" You asked nervously.

"I don't kn—Wait. Doc! We need to find Doc! It's his machine, he must know what's going on!"

"Marty," you interrupted.

"Come on, (Y/N)! We have to locate his place and—"

"Marty!"

"What?!"

You sighed deeply. "How about you take a moment to calm down. Clearly, we're not at home. Let's think this through. My 'uncle' Lou is at the café. Well, he's not really my uncle. Whatever. Let's check if we can use the phone there. We'll call Doc and see what he suggests. Sound good?"

Marty's expression softened, and he nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Okay. Let's head to the cafe." He held out his hand to you, and you took it with a shy smile. Since you couldn't drive, you began walking together.

[ TIME SKIP ]

"What the heck?" Marty muttered under his breath. You shared his disbelief. This was surreal. It looked like... the 1950s.

"Marty...?"

He nervously ran his hand through his hair and scanned the town until his eyes fell on a trash can. He rushed over, picking up a newspaper. His eyes widened as he read, mumbling something you couldn't quite catch.

"What? What is it?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, nerves and excitement mingling in your tone.

"1955, (Y/N)! We're—We're in 1955... Doc's machine worked."

Your mind raced as you tried to comprehend the enormity of the situation. "Oh my God. I—I haven't even been born yet! Well... that might not be such a bad thing."

"Ouch." Marty furrowed his brows at your self-deprecation.

"No, no, no. I meant for the space-time continuum. Two of us existing in the same time period. That's be catastrophic." Marty blinked at you, clearly speechless and impressed. "What? I listen to Doc."

The two of you chuckled a bit, cut short as the memory of Doc being murdered returning. Doc was dead, or he would be... in 1985. Meanwhile, the two of you were stuck in 1955.

Marty's expression shifted to a mix of determination and concern. "Come on. We've still gotta use that phone."

With that, Marty grabbed your hand and hurried across the quiet street towards Lou's Cafe, the familiar setting from countless retellings of his adventures. As you stepped inside, the nostalgic atmosphere enveloped you—the checkerboard floor, the red vinyl booths, and the jukebox playing tunes of an era long gone.

"Did you kids jump ship or something?" the man behind the counter asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and amusement.

"Sorry?" you replied, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected question.

"Well, what's with the life preserver?" he continued, gesturing towards Marty with a quizzical expression.

You glanced at Marty, realization dawning upon you. "Oh," you chuckled softly, "I just... he likes his vests."

"I just—uh... I need to use your phone," Marty stammered, eager to distract from any further questions about his unconventional attire.

"Sure. Right over there," the man said, pointing to a booth in the back of the cafe.

Before Marty left, he turned to you with a hint of urgency in his eyes. "Stay here for me. Okay?"

"Okay," you nodded, offering him a reassuring smile despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through your mind. "I swear, Marty, if it's the last thing I do, I'll get us home. I'll get you home," you added, trying to muster the courage you knew he needed.

Marty returned your smile gratefully before rushing towards the booth, leaving you to take a seat at the counter. You settled onto the stool, trying to blend in with the patrons who seemed oblivious to the temporal chaos unfolding around them.

A familiar figure caught your eye—a young man sitting just a seat away, devouring a sundae with gusto. "Hey, ice cream sounds pretty good," you mused to yourself, trying to find some semblance of normalcy in this surreal situation.

"Um, could I have a sundae?" you asked Lou, the man behind the counter, your voice wavering slightly with nerves.

"Sure thing, sweetheart," Lou replied warmly, reaching under the counter to retrieve a bowl and prepare your order.

Meanwhile, Marty trudged back from the phone booth, a sheet of phone book paper clutched tightly in his hand. "Hey, do you know where—" he began, only to be interrupted by the sudden swing of the cafe's front doors.

Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced towards Marty for confirmation. "Marty. I—Is that...?"

"Biff," he muttered under his breath, his jaw clenched with apprehension.

The cafe seemed to freeze in time as a familiar, imposing figure entered—the swaggering bully, Biff Tannen. Minions behind him, his presence filled the room with a palpable tension, drawing the gaze of everyone present, including yours and Marty's.

"Hey, McFly! McFly, I'm talkin' to you!" Biff bellowed, his voice cutting through the air like a knife.

The young man at the counter turned around, and it hit you like a lightning bolt. It was George McFly, Marty's father, a timid and awkward figure caught in Biff's shadow.

"Oh. Hi, Biff," George stammered, his voice barely audible over the din of the café.

Marty's expression mirrored your own shock as you watched the scene unfold before you, the pieces of the past falling into place with eerie precision.

"That's George McFly," Marty whispered to you, his voice tinged with disbelief. "My dad." You nodded silently, your eyes locked on George's vulnerable form as Biff continued his relentless taunting. "M-My dad was a total wimp," Marty muttered, his shoulders slumped with defeat.

"Poor guy," you whispered sympathetically, unable to tear your gaze away from the heartbreaking sight.

"Hello! McFly! Anybody home?" Biff mocked, knocking on George's head with a cruel smirk.

"I see Biff's always been an asshole," you murmured to Marty, your voice tinged with anger and empathy as you witnessed the brutal bullying unfold before your eyes. Marty remained transfixed, his expression a mix of sorrow and frustration as he watched his father endure Biff's torment.

"What're you lookin' at, butthead?!" Biff sneered, closing in on Marty with malicious intent.

Enough was enough. You couldn't stand idly by while Biff continued his reign of terror, especially not aimed at Marty.

"Hey! Why don't you back the hell off, asshole!" You snapped, your voice ringing out in defiance.

Biff's gaze snapped towards you, his expression shifting from rage to something altogether more unsettling—a predatory glint in his eyes. He licked his lips slowly, a sinister smile spreading across his face as he moved towards you, his towering frame blocking your escape.

Fear gripped your heart, but you stood your ground, refusing to let Biff intimidate you any further. Marty got up to fight but Biff's gang held him back.

"Don't you touch her, you sick son of a bitch!" Marty yelled.

"Oh shut up, dip-stick. A pretty girl like this ain't gonna like a squirt like you. She needs a real man." Biff turned his attention back to you. "Ain't that right, doll face?" He smirked.

"That's actually insulting." You spat. "I'd rather lick the mud off my shoe then be anywhere NEAR you!" The fucking nerve this guy had. You tried to push him away, escape from his grasp, anything. But his grip on you was iron.

"You better watch your mouth! Just you wait, honey. You're gonna be beggin' for a taste of me." He said, sending sickly chills down your spine. "Stop it! Leave me alone!" You protested as you squirmed with all your might. That must've set something off inside of Marty because he lost it and let loose on Biff's gang. Fists were flying and bodies were falling. Biff's head whipped to witness, loosening his grip, and you took the opportunity. The next fist you saw was yours meeting Biff's jaw and knocking him on his ass.

Before you could breath again, Marty grabbed your hand and RAN. He ran until the two of you were safe in a little shop Biff would never look. As soon as he was sure you were safe, he began checking you for any harm.

"Are you okay? Of course you aren't. I'm so sorry, (Y/N). Damn it. That just made me so mad to see him touch you like that. No one should be so damn disrespectful and- and touch you like that! I swear, (Y/N)."

"Marty."

"When I see him again I'll- I'll... I'll beat the shit out of him!"

"Marty!"

"(Y/N)! He's a total ass! He deserves to-"

You cut him off by grabbing his face and crashing your lips to his. He was a bit surprised at first but quickly returned the kiss. He rested his hands on your hips and carefully pulled you closer.

By the time you pulled apart, you were both flushed in the face. You leaned closer and nuzzled your foreheads sweetly, running your fingers through his soft hair.

"W-What was that for?" Marty stuttered.

You pursed your lips as you gently ran your fingers through his soft hair again. You wanted to confess, tell him you liked him, Like, really liked him. You started it a stutter, a huge smile spreading across his face. You could sense he knew what you were going to say...

Until you heard someone clear their throat.

It was the store owner. She stood there with her hands on her hips and a small smirk on her face. Both yours and Marty's faces were red with embarrassment.

"S-Sorry, ma'am." You stuttered.

"Yeah. Sorry." Marty seconded.

With that, you two quickly shuffled out of the shop, holding hands, and running down the block. Meanwhile, the store owner watched from the shop window, a growing smile on her face.

"What weird kids. Sweet, but weird."

• ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ • ♧ •

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[arumidden]

Could you imagine a buzzfeed unsolved episode covering Hill Valley? I imagine there’s a blog (or even series of blogs) covering all the weirdness that people have witnessed and Ryan and Shane are baffled

Just So Many witnesses to the delorean, flying or otherwise

Lots of people who confuse the delorean for a UFO, but lots of people very clearly recognize the car

The time train was also seen flying away

The fact that Old Man Peabody claimed a 'space zombie' crashed into his barn and hit his pine tree

At first it seems like a clear aliens case, but then they dig further into the town and just have absolutely no fucking idea how to explain Hill Valley

The “science experiment” train hijacking

WESTERN UNION MAN

The random Libyan nationalist group that had two of its members randomly show up dead at the mall at 2 am

The fact that the town tends to blame lots of its weirdness on the local disgraced nuclear physicist, who has never confirmed nor denied anything

[squoosh-the-floof-writes]

Back at it again at the Krispy Kreme- 

[daryfromthefuture]

bttf fanfiction masterpost

decided to put all of my fanfics together in one post for easier access-

multichapter fanfics

Until I Get Home, stuck in 1885 AU

We Do Need Roads (WIP!), road trip fic

Fourteen Scraps of Paper (on hiatus for now), filler fic from the years 1955-1985

Trinity trilogy (stuck in the 40s AU)

Most People Were Silent

A Few People Cried (WIP!)

A Few People Laughed (yet to be posted)

oneshots (a selection)

Spray paint, glass and us (my first oneshot on ao3 :,) ) (my english is so bad in that one good lord)

Double Visions (post bttf the game hurt/comfort)

He Didn't Start The Fire (prequel fic abt doc and marty's early friendship days)

The Weight Of Us ("crossover" with "Oppenheimer" (2023))

Flight Of Fancy (doc character study)

challenges

(disclaimer: most of them are incomplete because i lost motivation lol)

Summer Of Whump 2021

Summer Of Whump 2022

Friendship February 2023

June Of Doom 2023

Sicktember 2023

Doctober 2023

JanAUry 2024

collabs and roleplays

Friends Through Time(lines) with @alex-a-fans @bg-sparrow, ,@fiddlstyx, @jayisnotdrawing, @nemmet and @emmkittycat (i wrote the adopted marty chapter)

Stuck Through Time(lines) with @bg-sparrow, @fiddlstyx, @gxlden-switchblade, @nemmet, @bri-to-the-future, @pine-killer55 and @whosmurphy (i wrote the 1940s chapter)

Lean On Me (When You're Not Strong) with @bg-sparrow (stuck in 1885 sickfic)

Place In The World with @jayisnotdrawing (adoption au angst fic)

I'll Be There For You (Like I've Been There Before) with @bg-sparrow (stuck in 1885 au but marty objects at the wedding)

The Atom, The Scientist, And You with @bri-to-the-future (manhattan project lore)

I'm Only Me When I'm With You with @bg-sparrow (1955 sickfic)

this list will be updated as i write more :]

[stillpreoccupiedwith1985]

Here is my piece for a fic trade I’m doing with @daryfromthefuture. Hope you enjoy Dary.

[straydogofhv]

I'm not much of a fic writer, it just doesn't come as naturally to me as art or music.

But I did write ONE fic draft for BTTF that I'm pretty proud of, so I'd like to share it. It's from 2022, I'm currently trying to plan out how I want to end it.

It's set in Part III between the "doc saves marty from being hanged" scene and the "marty showing doc the photo of his grave" scene.

I decided to play with the fan theory that Marty actually died twice during Part II, and Doc, witnessing the death of his friend, went back in time to save him. Once on top of the roof of Biff's Pleasure Palace, and once during that scene where Biff tries to run down Marty in the tunnel. Both times, Doc's arrival in the DeLorean is strangely convenient and just in the nick of time...almost like Doc knew just when to be there to save Marty's life. And I know the knowledge of these awful alternate timelines just had to kill the man inside, so I really wanted to delve into that in this fic.

Here's the unfinished draft, enjoy the angst!

Third Time's the Charm by straydogofhv

Marty was just dragged through the dirt, flung violently into a pile of wood, and nearly hanged; yet, he could hardly keep a smile from washing over his face.

The time traveler slid the smoking length of rope off his neck and looked up, the edges of his vision clouded in a dark vignette. The town's curious onlookers resumed milling about, paying little mind to the gun-wielding vigilante standing before him.

Marty tossed the rope to the ground. "Doc..."

"Marty," Doc began, with the cadence of a parent scolding their child, "I gave you explicit instructions not to come here, but to go directly back to 1985."

Guilty, Marty averted his gaze, a bit startled by Doc's sudden display of hostility. However, he had neither the desire nor the energy to question it. A sudden dizziness befell him as he stumbled towards the man, dragging each step like a tread through mud. "I know, Doc," Marty wheezed, his throat tightening with every word, "but I had to come-"

He paused as a hand met his shoulder.

"But it's good to see you, Marty." Doc continued, his voice carrying a familiar warmth. Marty laughed and pulled his friend into a hug. Seeing him alive and well almost made the kid forget about the pain shooting through his neck.

Doc's fingers met the leather fringe hanging from Marty's shoulders. He pulled back, eyeing Marty's faux-western ensemble. "Marty, you're going to have to do something about those clothes. You walk around town dressed like that, you're liable to get shot."

"Or hanged," Marty added, rubbing the still-warm rope burns on his neck. "What idiot dressed you in that outfit?" Doc asked. Marty smirked and patted him on the shoulder.

"You did."

Doc's hand met his forehead. "I'm sorry I asked." He gazed ahead at the rows of old-timey storefronts before turning back to Marty.

"I'm assuming you've come back to get me," Doc said, a knowing look on his face.

Marty grinned. "Why else?"

He ran his fingers through his hair, shaking a bit of the dust off. "Sorry for breaking the 'rules,' Doc, but you know I had to---I couldn't just leave you here."

"I know. I'm not mad at you. After all, I figured this would happen. Ever since I wrote that letter, I've kept an eye out around town. Looks like my observations paid off."

Marty looked up at his friend. "You knew I was gonna show up the whole time? But...you warned me not to in the letter."

Doc chuckled and placed his hand on the exhausted teen's shoulder.

"Yes, but I know you, Marty."

》>>>>>>>>>>>> <<<<<<<<<<<< 《

After a bit of walking, the pair approached an unremarkable, rather closed-off building. It loomed tall and dark amidst dust-coated surroundings, its enclosed front wall juxtaposed by the open porches and windows of neighboring storefronts.

"Before we leave, I've got a few things I need to wrap up. You should probably go ahead and get cleaned up while we're here." Doc said, fiddling with the lock across the doors.

Marty nodded lightly, his neck still strained. "Sounds good, as long as I don't have to shower in murky water."

"You'll have to get all that stuff off of your face somehow. Don't worry, I've constructed a primitive filter that negates most of the health risks."

Marty frowned. "Most? Uh...I guess that's better than none."

Doc finally pushed one of the large, heavy doors open, and Marty stumbled inside.

Before him lied a vast array of fancy, period-appropriate furniture mixed in with various bits of unorganized machinery and trinkets. The workshop was simply littered with the workings of a genius--a sight Marty had grown quite fond of over the years.

However, most intriguing by far was the large, beautifully constructed steam-powered machine that sprawled across half the left wall. Thick metal pipes ran from the main tank of the machine all the way across the walls.

As Marty studied the strange contraption, something clinked on the floor behind him. He glanced over his shoulder.

Doc rushed about the room, pushing clutter off tables, gathering rolled-up schematics, and clearing an armchair and loveseat of loose clothing.

"Y'know, Doc, you don't have to clean the place up just because I'm here. We're gonna leave soon, remember?" Marty said, itching at the red stripe on his neck.

Doc continued the hasty cleaning job, his gaze unmoved.

"I just want you to be comfortable, that's all. With that kind of injury, you'll need to rest for a bit before we hit the road. Or, rather, what will become road in the next 25 years."

Marty nodded and stepped away from the contraption. "That's alright with me. We've got a few days to spare. Oh, I... guess I haven't told you about that yet."

Doc didn't seem to notice the comment, as he was busy digging through a medicine cabinet, pulling out vial after vial of bizarre Victorian-era tonics and cures.

Marty figured it didn't matter if he waited a bit before breaking the terrible news. They had a decent amount of time before Doc's untimely demise, so he could wait to warn him. Perhaps there was no need to worry his friend with his own epitaph at all. Marty knew they'd surely be safely back in 1985 before Buford had the chance to track them down.

Doc continued to hurriedly sort through glass bottles as Marty shifted his gaze back to the massive machine that sprawled across half the wall, adorned with numerous valves and pressure gauges. He stepped towards it, running his fingers along the bumpy, hand-cast metal piping.

"Hey, what's this big machine do? Looks pretty steampunk." Marty asked, gesturing behind him.

Doc finally looked up from his organizational tasks. "It is!" he said, his face aglow with the proud grin of a creator. "Allow me to demonstrate."

With a boyish giddiness, Doc rushed over to the corner of the room, pushing past a mountain of boxes and machine parts, and lifted a large vat of water out of what appeared to be the filtration device. He lugged it over to the machine and emptied it into several deposits along the pipes. Intrigued, Marty watched as Doc lit a fire in the bottom of the machine and hastily turned a few valves. A strong, steady hiss blew through the vents. Doc turned to face his friend with a proud smile.

"It'll take a while for the steam engine to get going. In the meantime, let's get you cleaned up. I don't think your folks would be too pleased if you returned looking like you joined the rodeo," he said, walking past Marty and into the back of the workshop. The shrill sounds of a barely-functioning tap filled the air. Marty tried to peer around the corner, but the piles of storage boxes served as an impenetrable wall.

Doc soon returned. He handed Marty a warm, damp washcloth. The fibers felt strange--likely hand-spun by a textile artist, Marty realized. "Here, you've still got dirt on your face and neck. When the machine's done with its pre-cycle, if you'd like, I can take you to the apparel shop and let you pick out some period-appropriate clothes before we come back to finish its run. Consider it the most historically accurate costume you'll ever own."

"Sweet. Thanks, Doc." Marty replied, scrubbing his face with the cloth. He smiled, his mind filled with images of poncho-clad men with dusty boots and weathered hats. He'd always wanted to dress up as his childhood hero, and now he finally had an excuse to do so.

A glint of silver in the corner of his eye caught his attention. There, on a small table, sat a newly framed wallet picture of him and Doc. He picked up the photograph and snickered.

In the frame sat an image of Marty and Doc standing close, holding a guitar and saxophone respectably. While Marty stood smiling for the camera, blissfully unaware, Doc's face was scrunched into a wince at the impact of a fast-moving guitar neck slamming into him.

Doc peered over Marty's shoulder at the photograph before looking at the fresh marks on his neck.

"You know, Marty, when I first caught sight of you being dragged around by Tannen, I was very worried." Doc said, his voice devoid of its usual enthusiastic cadence. "I know you don't like me to get involved in your spats, but it was clearly necessary this time."

Marty sighed and slumped down in one of the cleared armchairs next to the table.

"I know, Doc, I should've just walked out on him. Believe me, I don't think we're gonna need to have that talk again. But what was I supposed to do? I didn't even mean to-"

"Yes, I'm aware of that." Doc interrupted, moving to sit in the loveseat next to Marty's chair. "There exist some situations where self-reserve can't help you. But it worries me that I barely managed to get to you in time. It's a matter of pure coincidence that you're sitting in front of me right now, fully intact. If I arrived just seconds later, or if I didn't anticipate your visit...I may not have been able to rescue you."

Marty leaned forward, looking down at the pinkish scrapes on his hands.

"Well, I'm alive, aren't I?" Marty said with a small laugh. As his eyes met Doc's, his smile fell.

Doc gazed ahead at the little photo, silent, his features devoid of any discernable emotion. Marty placed his hand on his friend's shoulder. "Look, Doc, you didn't fail. You got to me at just the right time. And once we head back to the future, we won't have to worry about any of this kinda stuff ever again."

The scientist blinked, nodding slowly as he continued to stare at the photograph. "We can only hope."

Marty grabbed the washcloth from the table in front of them and started wiping the rest of his face clean. "C'mon, be a little more optimistic. We solved all the problems I cau--that book caused. Now all we have to do is go home." he said.

Doc finally met his gaze. "I suppose you're right. Everything will be fine," Doc said, a smile washing over his face--a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm sorry for worrying so much, Marty. I guess my fears are irrational now that we're in the clear." He paused. "Though, for a fleeting moment, when I saw you strung up on the courthouse...I thought I'd lost you again."

"See? We're gonna be just..."

Marty slowly lifted the washcloth from his face, turning his head to face Doc.

"...fine."

Marty remained silent for a moment, his face twisted in contemplation.

"Wait a minute, Doc...what did you just say?"

The man didn't look up from the photograph. "I said, I honestly thought--"

Doc swallowed his words and turned to look at Marty, a look of alarm stamped on his face. He slowly rose to his feet and took a few steps away from the chairs.

He frowned, and his hand met his forehead. "Great Scott, I've let you know too much..."

He slowly shook his head and paced about the room, darting between rows of stacked boxes and furniture. Marty leapt out of his chair and rushed over to Doc, trying and failing to follow his sporadic movements.

"Woah, what do you mean by 'lost you again?' Does something happen to me in the future?" Marty pressed, projecting his hoarse voice to the best of his ability.

Doc held his hand up. "No, no, I only went as far as 2015, and you were doing fine....mostly."

Marty tried to look him in the eyes, but Doc turned away in a hurry to pace the other side of the room. "Then what the hell are you talking about? What happened?! If you think I can't handle it, I can. I survived getting hanged, for god's sakes."

The shaken inventor gave no reply to his friend's rapid questioning, instead rushing about the room like a trapped bird looking for a way out. Marty refused to relent, however, and he eventually caught up with the man's hurried pacing.

"Listen, Doc, if you're worried about the space-time continuum--"

"You don't deserve to bear the weight of my mistakes. I've caused you enough hurt already by inventing that damn machine."

Marty looked up at his dear friend with earnest eyes. "It'll hurt more if I don't know what's got you down. Just talk to me."

Doc sighed. He paused and turned around for a moment to face Marty before he shook his head and swiftly paced to the other side of the room. Marty followed suit, attempting to meet the man's gaze.

"Hey, hey--!"

Marty's voice was interrupted by a sharp hiss of steam. He took a step back as the doc hastily twisted a large valve on the steam-powered machine.

Before his pal could slip away again, Marty ran up behind him, hoping to block the man's way. "Just listen to me... please."

Doc reluctantly turned around. Head low, he looked to the table with the photograph sitting on it. "I suppose it would've slipped out sooner or later. I...I just wasn't prepared for it to happen today." Doc explained, a slight break in his voice.

The confusion on Marty's face must have been fairly blatant as Doc placed an arm on his friend's back, nudging him in the direction of the living space. Anxious, Marty took the hint and made his way toward the back of the workshop.

Doc quietly sat down on a bench adjacent to the wooden table, and Marty moved to take a seat next to him.

"So...what's this all about? What happened to me?" Marty questioned.

Doc gazed ahead at nothing in particular. " Marty, I didn't want to do this, but if I must be honest with you, then so be it. I don't know how to begin to tell you this, but..."

The inventor paused, taking a moment to prepare his next words. Marty fidgeted with the fringe on his sleeves, trailing his fingers along the soft, cool leather. Maybe he's just going to tell me about-

"You died twice. And I'm afraid it's my fault."

Tense air followed the man's words. Marty gawked at him.

When his friend's hand met his forehead, Marty frowned, starting to feel a bit uneasy. "Uh, Doc? What are you implying?" he posed, struggling to comprehend the possibility of meeting his demise.

"Exactly what I just said. I failed you, Marty. Twice." Doc said, a quiver subtly breaking up his voice.

"I don't understand," Marty replied.

Doc shifted in his seat. "You shouldn't have to. Neither one of those horrible incidents should have happened. I could've prevented them the first time around if I'd planned better. Instead, I had to go back to save you, in which I succeeded, but now two of you are gone. Does that make sense?"

Marty blinked. "Wait a minute. You're telling me that I'm... dead in other timelines? How? When?"

Doc finally met his friend's eyes again. "Remember when I flew the DeLorean up to the rooftop of Biff's tower to save you?"

Marty slowly nodded.

"That's not how it happened the first time around. The time when the original you--or, I suppose, your counterpart--was up there on that roof, waiting for me. Your--er, his--only hope for rescue. Except..."

Doc leaned back against the bench and gazed at the ceiling, pausing for a moment, his eyes glazed over as if in a trance.

"...I never came."

Marty could hardly think, let alone move a muscle. His features felt heavy, numb. "Doc, I...I think I know what you mean now."

Doc's eyes practically touched the floor.

"So," Marty began, breaking the imposing silence, "you saved me, but not the me that came before?"

Doc gave a grim nod.

"Shit, that means..." Marty said, hesitant, "... that means you saw whatever happened to me, right? You saw me, well...dead."

Doc's emotional barrier seemed to burst at the seams in this moment, crumbling like the walls of a faulty dam as he hid his face behind his hands.

"Twice, Marty. Twice."

Marty wasn't sure how to react. On one hand, he was now certain that his friend cared for him more than he could ever know, but on the other...

He realized that he was so lost in thought that he had neglected to respond. Doc didn't seem to want to say anything more, as he sat there in silence, unmoving.

Marty had never seen his friend so low before. It was strange, almost. Marty was always the one running to Doc with his problems--his mom's addiction, his dad's mistreatment--but now he could see Doc's confident facade faltering, and he knew he had to step in to soothe the poor man.

"Doc... I'm sure it wasn't your fault. It couldn't have been. I mean, how would you know he was gonna pull a gun on me? You would have never made it up there in time." Marty offered, in a weak attempt to reassure him.

Doc shook his head. "You wouldn't know. Unless you remembered anything from the other timelines, which, if my theory is correct, you shouldn't."

"No, I don't think I do," Marty replied, taking a moment to plan out his next move. This was a new situation for him, and it was difficult to find the right way to approach Doc's admission.

'I never thought I'd see him break down like this,' Marty thought, 'I guess he really tried his hardest to keep it together in front of me.'

"Would it, uh... help if you told me what else happened?." Marty proposed, breaking the silence.

Doc finally looked up. "I don't think you understand. I put you in a dangerous position, sending you into Biff's domain alone like that. I should've planned the whole thing better, I should've been there to keep you safe."

"C'mon, neither one of us knew about his plan. I mean, I know Biff's violent, but I never thought he could end up as a murderer."

[alex-a-fans]

Do you wonder what happened to the evil characters that are evil for the hell of it?

Do you wonder why there are not many Dark universe BTTF fics? Do you wish to see Marty going through a crisis? Do you want a complex timeline with nuanses, colapses and cross-overs?

Do you think that there are not enough 2015 fics?

I HAVE GOOD NEWS TO YOU!!!

If you said Yes five times you will like the rebooted fic I am working on! :D The Altered

Alteration but is renewed, more interesting plot, less crowded cast to let the main characters shine :)

@unknooooow is still the test bunny :3

Coming out October 21st...

[inevitablemoment]

I Want The Good Times Back

Day 20 - Local Legend

Tiffany ruminates on her lasting hatred towards the McFly family (and her obsession with their youngest son) before witnessing a sight that no one would believe-- a flying DeLorean.

And thirty years later, she has a chance to set things back in her-- I mean, her family's favor.

[venolfy]

I'm not a fan of sharing my fics, because I'm suck at translating, but this is a part from the latest one fic which I need to continue soon. Enjoy, I guess?

-----------------------------

Evening came, and with it something else hanging in the air. Marty hid in his bedroom, thinking about the appropriate sounds of his guitar for a strong song without any words, which could have been for Jennifer if she hadn't broke up with him.

He heard footsteps, but he didn't stop creating heavy and energetic music around him, knowing that he didn't have to hold them back. Unless his dad really wanted him to do it.

This time there was nothing like that, and he didn't pay attention to George leaning against the door frame, who was staring at the slight wrinkles of a smile.

It was friday evening. George tore himself away from work and decided to leave the idea for the new book for the next day, to admire his son now, not wanting to waste any second, since they were completely alone in the house this time.

"Yes. Keep it up, Marty. Show your old man how much you love playing on your new guitar," he blurted out the words in silence, focusing on the intense blue of his son eyes, not paying attention to the old guitar placed next to the black guitar case near night stand.

Marty smiled shyly, knowing that his playing had always been his father's favorite thing. It was constant, probably more than nice. Something he couldn't really describe at the moment. He hid his blush from him.

The calm gaze was tempted by Marty's young and shapely body, and George was grateful that he didn't have to hide it. They probably had the whole night to themselves. George knew how to use it. His touch on Marty existed only before sleep, kissing his warm lips with passion. No rush and no witnesses, even if the rest of the family was in home.

He couldn't stop kissing Marty and couldn't help, but wanted show how much he love to feel him, to explore him from every pore. He missed intimacy, so he hoped that Marty would focus all the attention on him, and if not, well, he would show Marty that it's not worthy ignoring his dad. He would show him once again that he would beg to continue kissing his skin, bringing him to a final orgasm as soon as he will penetrated him with the right movements.

Marty felt everytime so weak after, so defenseless, trembling under him, stroking his dark brown hair, now dulling with age. And that was not all he saw and felt. He could not shake it off. It changed him.

Marty tried to show how amazing he could play. How much he appreciated his gift - new guitar from his dad. Dreaming of the studies around music he had mentioned to him. He knew it would work. They had been saving up for his studies for years. Not only for him, but also for Dave and Linda.

He focused on the music, ignoring his father who moved closer, who touches his knee, who finally reached his hand to his hair, fixing them. Because of this movement Marty lost his rhythm, stopping playing, feeling as if he was starting to lose feeling and disappear like before. But this time he didn't disappear.

George's touch lasted longer, meeting Marty's blue eyes with his cool green, which Marty always considered them as warm. It warmed him up.

He widened his smile without taking his eyes off his lovely dad, now leaning into his touch on his cheek, feeling the thumb that stroked the skin. He felt himself falling apart under this touch.

Marty began to hold the guitar weakly, letting it rest on his lap.

"You're a very talented boy," George said in a quiet whisper close to Marty's ear, putting these words on the teenager in the form of affectionate appreciation.

“Thanks, Dad,” he whispered, feeling comforted as he found George left hand, taking it hesitantly.

George smiled gently, squeezing his younger son's hand, allowing him to continue stroking his cheek, his thumb traveling to his lips, which slowly opened. Marty shivered, feeling a small tension, squeezing George's other hand, unable to move away from it. It was endearing and attractive. He couldn't ignore how close he was and how he looked. His dad was a handsome man, he loved everything he could see and feel about him, unable to resist his dull hair, which used to be a more intense color than it was now.

Marty still remembered George younger self, that kiss, the forbidden ground like with his mother, whom he rejected so that he couldn't allow something between them. Luckily, he managed to bring them together, even if it wasn't easy, it was worth it all.

He couldn't forget the kisses, the tenderness and other things between him and George. Before and now. Not believing that he couldn't reject it like he wanted to do so much earlier.

George began to pull him out of his shyness and small reflection. He put the guitar down, placing it on the closed case, returning to the bed and beginning to absorb every touch between them that now occurred. He approached more confidently, smiling softly and touching his lips to his right cheek.

The brunet sighed, feeling more relaxed, feeling the warm touch here and there, leaning over them, unable to chase away this feeling that had developed short months ago. Not even a few.

George moved his head slowly, bringing his lips closer to Marty's. The light kiss began to work like a drug. Marty closed his eyes, looking at George's face second before it, gently touching his lips in order to reciprocate, finding his shoulder with his free hand, and then his hair, sinking his fingers into them, pulling him closer, causing their lips to meet in a stronger kiss that became longer and more intimate as time passed. Marty moaned short and quietly, feeling the changing atmosphere, pushing the eager George into a deeper kiss, which he wanted to strengthen even deeper.

George stroked his hand, after a moment making a break between them, feeling his son's unstable breathing at the moment. They looked at each other for a moment, and Marty stroked George's hair, not wanting to end this caress. George showed with his smile that he didn't want to end it.

He wanted to ask if everything is okay, but Marty didn't seem concerned, but a bit quieter that day than in previous ones.

"You don't have to be afraid. Not with me, Marty," he soothed in a whisper.

Before Marty could decide to say anything, his father's lips silenced him again, enveloping him in their embrace. George smiled as he placed another tender kiss between them. He moved closer, prolonging the kiss even longer, wanting to take Marty into a deeper embrace, to pull him closer, to comfort him, to hold him on his lap.

In that moment it was just them and their feeling, which was completely different from others years ago.

[mythical-bookworm]

Day 9: Shopping

"McFly, you are hopeless." Jennifer told her boyfriend as he walked past endless shelves, not even giving anything a second glance.

"I'm telling you Jen, Doc wouldn't like any of this stuff!" he protested, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "You don't even know what he would want."

"I'll know it, once I see it."

They had been at it for hours. Now, Jennifer loved shopping as any teenage girl would. But this was getting tiresome. Marty asked her to help him find his new employer Doc Brown a Christmas gift as she was much more adept to shopping then him. Unfortunately, he was stubborn. Every suggestion she gave he passed down. And after forcing him into several shops in the Twin Pines Mall, he hardly expressed any interest in anything sold. Usually by this point she would have found something. Currently they were in Radio Shack, Jennifer thinking maybe Marty could find something that would assist some of the scientist's inventions.

"I think you just need to settle. You've only known him for a few months. And your only fifteen, it's not like you have an extensive budget. He'll understand."

Marty's face soured stubbornly. "It's still a Christmas gift. I don't want to disappoint him."

"Alright." Jen said. "I'm going to go over to the shop next door, save some time."

Marty nodded. "I'll meet you over there when I'm done here."

The store next door happened to be Camelot Music. She walked in, but didn't expect much luck. Maybe they sold some older music from the Doctor's era? She walked in, browsing lazily before someone caught her eyes. Shifting fretfully through the aisles was a wide eyed white haired man.

"Doctor Brown?" she asked in suprise, walking up to him. What on earth was he doing here of all places?

The scientist looked up in surprise, eyeing her. "Who are you?"

"I'm Jen-"

"Jennifer! Marty's new romantic confidante!" he exclaimed in relief.

"Er-"

"Look, I need your help. I have found myself at a complete loss for what to get Marty for Christmas! I finally found this place, knowing his affinity for music, but I'm afraid I am quite clueless where to go from here. It has been quite some time since I have gotten a human a gift, not a loyal canine."

Jennifer blinked at the whirlwind of words being spoken to her by the eccentric scientist. After a moment of processing she shook her head. It seemed both him and Marty were hopeless. "Alright." she sighed. "First of all your looking in the wrong genre..."

[bg-sparrow]

Let's Do the Time Warp Again

Fandom: Back to the Future || Rating: T || Genre: Angst, Friendship

Summary: Biff's gang successfully jumps Marty's past self after he performs Johnny B. Goode at the dance. On the precipice of an unprecedented paradox, Marty is forced to dive headlong into a time loop by replacing himself at the clocktower and returning to 1985. Can Doc figure out a way to break the loop before its toll on Marty jeopardizes the space-time continuum?