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theaawalker · 7 months ago

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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."