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happy74827 · 6 months

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Parallel Hearts

[Marty Mcfly x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Just as he was about to leave for good, Marty finds himself at a standstill because of you.

WC: 1,595

Category: Fluff

I always wanted to write about the Enchantment Under the Sea Dance and now I have. Enjoy!

『••✎••』

“Marty, that was very interesting music.”

The words were uttered in a tone that was as dry as a desert, but Marty didn’t care to take heed of it, for he had a mission – and that was to get home as fast as he could.

He knew Doc was waiting for him at the clock tower, with the DeLorean fully hooked up and ready to go. His face was probably set and grim, too. In fact, Marty was certain Doc would be more than a little concerned, since Marty had been away much longer than he had told him.

But he had to make sure he was going to be able to return back to 1985, so what did it matter if he spent an extra ten minutes just to make sure he was still going to exist?

Besides, the old-fashioned audience actually appreciated his guitar skills (for the most part), and it felt good to be noticed, even if it wasn't the type of audience he was used to. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

And so… Marty was going to leave this outdated time period behind with a smile and return back to 1985, the town Hill Valley that he had grown up in, where he had his best friend who knew him, his frenemy, his parents, and the life that he loved.

He was going to return to the Hill Valley he called home, but then he saw you.

He had only met you a couple of times before, but he recognized you instantly. It was hard to forget the young woman that was so dedicated and so determined to help him out in his mission, despite being completely clueless about it. You had helped him a great deal with setting up George and Lorraine, and the way you had helped him was something he could never repay.

He couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of regret when he thought of his rushed adventure in the past, because he had never gotten the chance to get to know you. He was just aware of your name and that you were a good friend of Lorraine.

“Leaving so soon?” you asked, the smile on your lips soft and gentle. Your eyes sparkled in a way that was very familiar, and he remembered how Lorraine had looked at him when he first approached her.

It wasn't exactly the same look, but there was a spark of something in your eyes that made Marty stop in his tracks.

Maybe it was a mistake to linger, because he knew that his life was quite literally on the line. And yet, here he was, doing just that.

“Uh, yes?” he replied, feeling like an absolute fool for being so tongue-tied. He could barely manage to get a word out, and his mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. He was usually cool under pressure, but right now, he was anything but cool.

Your expression softened, and you looked at him with such sympathy that it made his heart ache. He could feel a blush slowly creeping up his cheeks.

It didn’t make any sense, he didn't even know you! And yet, it was as though there was a connection. It wasn’t something physical, or something tangible, but something deeper and more meaningful.

Marty couldn’t understand his strange thoughts, or the way his heart was racing so fast. The sensation was unfamiliar, and it was almost as though he was experiencing his own life from an outsider's perspective.

It was strange, and not something that was easy to describe. But one thing was certain...

He really did want to get to know you.

You tilted your head slightly, a look of amusement crossing your features. He realized then that he had been silent for a long time.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out and placing your hand on his arm. "You look a little lost."

“What? No! I mean, yes. Yeah, I'm… peachy." he replied quickly, trying his best to regain some semblance of composure. "I, uh, just wanted to thank you again for helping me out with the whole Lorraine and… uh, George situation. It worked, and they're together... in love. Soon, they'll get married and have three kids, and hopefully this time be a happy family.”

He could see your confusion at his words, but you hid it well as a smile spread across your face. "That’s… very specific, but I’m glad it worked out. Lorraine really needed someone who would cherish her. She's a very sweet girl."

There was a long silence, and Marty felt his heart thumping wildly against his chest. It was so loud that he was certain you could hear it.

He took a deep breath and tried to calm his nerves. It wasn’t working.

One thought told him that he needed to go. The other urged him to stay.

A strange mixture of fear and anticipation made his heart pound even faster. He glanced around the room, searching for an escape route.

It would be easier to walk away now and forget about you. He knew he couldn’t afford to dally, not when Doc was waiting for him at the clock tower. He would probably have a heart attack if he was kept waiting any longer.

Marty turned to look at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "I should, uh… really be going," he said, his voice faltering. "It's been really nice to see you again."

Before he could take another step, though, you reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

Marty turned to look at you, and was surprised by the intensity in your eyes.

"Can you spare one dance?" you asked, giving him a small smile. "Just one. It'll be quick, I promise."

He had a feeling it would be a bad idea. He was on a deadline, and time was running out. He was also supposed to be avoiding any form of contact with people from the past. It could change history, and he couldn't risk making another mistake.

But wouldn’t it be a mistake if he walked away from you?

What if the reason he felt this strange connection was because he was meant to get to know you? What if it was a sign that he was destined to meet you, and that he shouldn't walk away?

Marty took a deep breath, and decided that, for once, he was going to go against his better judgement and follow his heart.

Doc would probably hate him for it, but Marty didn’t care. What he did care about was the way your smile brightened when he caved and allowed you to drag him back.

He was slightly irritated with the fact that the band was still playing without that guitar, as it meant they completely bullshitted him on the whole 'can’t play without Marvin' thing, but when he took your hand in his, he forgot what he was mad about, and found himself getting swept away by the moment.

It wasn't a complicated dance. In fact, it was incredibly simple, but it was nice. Dancing with you was nice. It was like dancing in a dream. He felt like he was floating on air as he was lulled by the soft melody of the song.

It was a magical moment, and he wished it could last forever. However, reality came crashing down upon him, and he was suddenly reminded that his time was short.

He had to get home.

"I... I really have to go," Marty muttered, his gaze flickering down to your lips. You were close, so close that he could feel your warm breath tickling his cheek.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss you, but he knew that would be a mistake. If he kissed you, it would only complicate things.

As much as he wanted to stay, he had to go.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I wish I could stay, but I… I can't.”

"That's okay," you replied, giving him a sad smile. "I understand."

You pulled away, and Marty instantly missed the warmth of your body pressed against his. Man, this was hard. He had never felt such a strong attraction to anyone before, and it was a struggle to resist.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and looked at him with an unreadable expression.

"Marty," you began, and his name sounded so sweet coming from your lips. "Thank you. For everything."

Before he could ask what you meant, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. It was light and quick, but it was enough to send his heart racing.

"Goodbye, Marty," you whispered, a hint of sadness in your voice.

And then you were gone, disappearing into the crowd, leaving him standing there with his jaw hanging open and his heart racing.

He didn't know what to say or how to react.

All he knew was that he would never forget the look in your eyes as you turned and walked away. It caused his hands to shake a little, and he couldn’t help but run one through his hair.

Damn. He couldn’t stop the memory of the way your lips felt against his cheek from lingering in his mind. It was a moment he would never forget.

He didn’t know if he would ever see you again, but he knew that he would never forget the girl with the sparkling eyes.

And, perhaps, if he was lucky, he would see you again.

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happy74827 · 2 years

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Painful Memories

[Marty Mcfly x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: A sudden visit from your best friend leaves you in complete distraught as old memories — nightmares that you thought you’d forgotten, resurface {updated 2023 — I changed the gif because the old one was ugly to look at, so all credits go to @marielle-heller}

WC: 2,453

Category: Hurt/Comfort (TW — Abuse, Mentions of drugs)

For clarification, this takes place before the events of the first film. This one was more of a (dark) headcanon of mine on how Marty’s life was before he went back in time.

I really put a lot of effort into this one, so if you enjoyed reading, don’t be afraid to leave a comment and a reblog! I’d love to hear your thoughts.

『••✎••』

Spring Break usually was a time of relaxation and preparation for the upcoming months ahead. It’s the last brink of freedom before the school year finished off. The last joyous week before the sleepless nights up until June.

You should’ve been smiling, laughing away with your gals, but you were doing the opposite. All the enjoyment of finally reaching that break withered away in a matter of minutes. Seconds, even.

It was the moment you heard the doorbell ring. The moment you opened the door. The moment of when you saw him, Marty, standing in front of you.

Your eyes grew wide as you saw him. Your best friend, standing there with no emotion. Not a slither of excitement to be seen.

His posture was slumped with shoulders that were hunched over. You noticed how his hands were jammed into his front pockets. How his head bowed down the second the door flew wide, not allowing you to see him eye-to-eye.

The thing that bothered you most, however, was that his eyes — his ocean-strong eyes, were covered by his (mirror-reflected) Ziess Aviators.

His head stared solemnly at the ground, but you knew those eyes were focused on your movements. Every movement.

Your heart shattered before you as you stared back at him with dejection. Your mind was slowly piecing together the possibilities. Possibilities you hoped weren’t true.

Marty’s voice was low, lower than a whisper. Soft and frail, as if he were praying… begging. He acted as though he was avoiding eye contact, opting to stare at the concrete beneath him. “Are your parents home?”

You shook your head.

“Can I…” His voice was monotone, a tone you desperately hated to hear. “Can I come in…?”

Without even the slightest hesitation, you widened the door and granted him access. He nodded once before stepping inside, narrowly avoiding your shoulder as he did.

With the door shutting behind you, Marty didn’t stop walking until he got to the kitchen. You followed in pursuit as a wave of melancholy washed over the two of you.

With a sigh, Marty turned. His sunglasses were still on — concealing his eyes from your view.

Then at that moment, like a bolt of lightning, the realization struck. The pit of your stomach dropped to the floor.

“Oh, god.” You thought, “Please don’t be—”

“It was David again, wasn’t it?”

The unpleasant noise that came from Marty’s throat only confirmed your fears. His shoulders slanted downwards in shame, his head refusing to glance up at you.

You couldn’t blame him, you did not have a poker face.

Still, you were determined. You weren’t going to let Marty suffer alone. Not when he walked two miles to your door, practically begging with silence for your help.

You stepped closer to him, causing his jaw to tense as he noticed. Marty was silent. Dead silent. You could see the goosebump starting to form on his forearms.

He must’ve sensed that you were still coming in closer as his hands flew out of his pockets, grasping onto the kitchen counters for dear life. At this, his head finally tilted upward. The shades staring into your soul.

Marty wasn’t necessarily a “tall” guy. He was only about two inches taller than you, but was one of the shortest in your grade. So, when he looked up, you were about parallel with each other. You couldn’t see his eyes, but you knew they were full of emotion.

Emotion he chose to hide.

With a determined huff, you carefully reached over to his face. He trembled underneath your touch, but he didn’t stop you. Even allowing your fingertips to grasp the metal frame of his sunglasses. He looked down shamefully once you had a grip. And then… they were off.

They were off and you became an entire mess. Your worst nightmare came true once again. The living proof of it was right there.

A magnitude of discoloration and swelling covered his entire right eye. It was completely unrecognizable. You concluded it must’ve happened recently too as the orange outline had just started to reach towards his nose. It was worse than you had expected. This was possibly the worst it has ever been. You were horrified.

“It’s not that bad—“

“Not that bad!?” You exclaimed, almost dropping the glasses in shock. “Marty your whole face is swelling up like balloon! What’d you mean it’s not that bad?!”

“He didn’t mean it, I—” Marty was frantic now, his nervous tick was coming into play as you witnessed his hand grasp the back of his neck. “I know he didn’t. I swear to god! You gotta believe me!”

“He’s back on those drugs again isn’t he?”

“He didn’t…” His palm continued to rub the back of his neck intensely, creating and leaving red patched onto his skin.

“Marty,” You begged, “please, tell me what happened. Did you tell your parents at least?”

“My parents?!” Marty looked at you appalled as if it were a stupid question. “Are you crazy?! They’d go apeshit! They’d send Davie to the looney bin.”

“Maybe they should, Marty! This is a serious problem. God, I mean… what’re you going to do when Doc finds out about this? He still hasn’t gotten over the burn incident.”

“Simple,” He fluffs up his hair a bit, leaning back on the counter. “I’m going to avoid him.”

“Avoid him? Really?” You gave him a disappointed glare. “That’s your solution?”

“He always knows, no matter how much I try to act nonchalant.” He rolls his eyes, glancing back at the ground momentarily. You can tell he was thinking of the past. The big blowout between him and Doc.

It was the day after the Fourth of July. Doc called for some assistance for a new project he was working on. It was another one of his failed experiments that he never touched again, but that wasn’t the important part.

Marty was late — which most of the time he was, but he was later than his usual self. Doc was always a paranoid old man, the worst things coming into mind. He cared about the both of you significantly, like the uncle you both never had.

The entire hour was you convincing Doc that Marty probably caught up in his long family discussions. That satisfied him long enough until Marty strolled in looking like death.

“Marty!” You recalled Doc’s thunderous voice as he glided to the door. Einstein was at your feet, barking at your friend’s arrival.

“Marty, where have you been?! We have—“

The silence was piercing. A small bin that Doc had been lugging around for the past half hour, clashed onto the floor. Glass shattered everywhere — which actually turned out to be a bitch to clean up, but Doc didn’t care about that in the moment.

He cared about Marty and seeing him with such a tremendous injury hit him right in the gut. Even Einstein whined out and started to lick Marty’s leg for comfort.

His entire right side was a burn mark. A mixture of black, red, green, and purple. He told you that he tripped over a rock last night and landed on the sprinkler he held. Of course, it was bullshit.

The real truth was that he’d gotten in an argument with David. He was experimenting with drugs and Marty had enough of covering for him. It resulted in a bitch slap across the face, except the slap wasn’t a palm but the sprinkler.

It took him two days to confess what really happened to Doc. It took him a month to tell you the truth. And, no, you were not upset at him for not sharing so quickly. If anything, you were upset with David.

It was actually a miracle how his face completely healed. It took two years for the scarring to dissipate. When it was at its year’s mark, as you remembered, he’d go out in the sun and the burn circle would lighten up like a star in the midnight sky.

It was a constant reminder of what David did. Though, it didn’t seem to faze Marty. Maybe it did. Maybe he was pretending…

But, nonetheless, it was the first time both you and Doc were aware of David’s… problems. And it wasn’t the last time either.

His parents seemed to only get involved when David hit rock bottom and ended up overnight in jail. You weren’t there for it, but Marty’s parents went to Doc and pleaded him to watch out for Marty

So, from that day forward, Doc made sure that the both of you were okay and elated. Sometimes when you felt even remotely sad, he’d go out and buy donuts and bring out the infamous ice cream tub that tasted like pure heaven.

“And you know how he is! He pulls this reverse ‘psych-shit’ on me to open up about my issues.” Marty rants, bringing you back to the present. Possibly, bringing the both of you back. “God, I hate it.”

You reached into the cabinet for the first aid kit. “Yeah, because you never do!“

“What?! I do!” Marty scoffed, “I told him about the little sibling brawl with my sister, don’t you remember?! I told him how I was scared for her.”

You reached over to the side for the hydrogen peroxide. You could tell Marty was still tense, most likely relieving the incident over and over in his head. The frown that surfaced only made you suspect it more.

“You told him because you scared him half to death!” You walked back towards him. “He was thinking of all the worst things imaginable so you had to ease his mind.”

You flicked off the hydrogen peroxide lid with ease as you quickly folded a piece of a paper towel you’ve gathered earlier. You poured the liquid carefully onto the paper before turning towards him.

“No, I told him because—Ow!” Marty flinched at the contact, pulling his head away from you. You tried to reach for his eye again but he slapped your hand down. “Could you… I don’t know, not do that?”

“Oh, stop it. You’re being a baby.”

He rolls his eyes, “You try being punched in the eye and tell me how it feels.”

You brought it back towards his face to which he narrowly avoids, banging his skull into the cabinet in response.

The loud bang echoed the kitchen, a groan following in pursuit as he brought his hands to meet his ‘now throbbing’ head.

You snorted and chuckled at his ridiculousness before pulling his head back towards you in attempt to clean and scrub the dry blood off his eye again. This time, fortunately, he allows you.

You started outwards, gingerly scraping the crust that had formed. He winced once every five seconds, but he didn’t move. The scabs and the severe bruising made you quiver and hesitate. A frown formed at your lips again, unable to hide the pain you felt.

“You know…” You began with a sigh, “Doc isn’t the only one worried about you. I am too.”

“Well, that’s shocking.” He retorted.

“Marty, be serious! I’m— I’m really worried about you.”

Within a matter of seconds his carefree attitude was dropped and forgotten. As his eyes met your focused ones he instantly understood the feeling behind them.

Your eyes were similar to a book, filled with so many unsayable words and tones. It was one of the many things you were thankful for when it came to Marty. Unlike others, he knew how to say and read them.

He grabbed your hand with care, forcing your eyes away from his bruise. His eyes were searching yours, wanting your entire attention.

“Hey,” He spoke lowly, “I’m gonna be alright. You and Doc don’t gotta worry about me. I can handle it myself.

“I can’t help it, it’s just that—“

His frown deepened at your words. “Just…what?”

“Just that… someone has to.” You began to tremble, slightly cursing to yourself as you threw the paper towel back down on the countertop. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, but you could feel the stubborn tears crawling their way out. “Because… because if not Doc or I, who… who will?”

Your name fell from his lips in a murmur. He must’ve noticed your shaken behavior as he reached out to cradle your forearms in his palms. He moved into you closer, forcing you to pay attention.

“Listen to me,” He ordered, “okay?”

“Okay… okay.”

“Are you listening?”

You rolled your eyes annoyedly, rubbing the few tears off your eyelashes “Yes, Marty, I’m listening.”

“Alright… alright, good.” He nodded, as if it were his encouragement to go on. “Well, I won’t lie to you. These last couple months have been… rough for him. Davie was fired recently from his job at that Italian place and he took it very hard.”

“Clearly..”

“He’s been trying to get a new job, but none of them were working out. Last night… he just… snapped. Luckily my parents were out dealing with that Biff again, but Linda and I were there...”

“Marty—“

“Shush!” He yelled, “Just, listen, alright? As I was saying… Linda and I were there when it happened. And of course, like always, Linda kept running her mouth. She always had a habit of getting under people’s skin and If I didn’t step in, he would’ve slapped her to oblivion.”

You were about to open your mouth, about to protest, but he gave you a nasty glare in return which kept it closed.

“He truly didn’t mean it,” He continued, “and I’ve come to realize while standing in this kitchen, that he regretted it. He regretted it so much he couldn’t stand to look at us. He stormed out in a panic after the initial shock happened.”

Marty dropped your arms, leaning back against the counter again. He left you by the island table while his arms were crossed against his chest. A smile was etched on his lips which made you question everything.

It wasn’t a fake one either. It was real. It was an actual, genuine smile.

You raised an eyebrow, “Why are you smiling?“

“He never cared before.” Marty whispers it as if it were unbelievable. “He’d smack me around all the time and have no regret. No shame. But, last night, he… ran. He was so horrified by what he’d done, he went into fight or flight mode. And ran away.”

His eyes flicker over to yours and it was refreshing to see. That sadness and pain he had when he’d shown up was now barely existent. It was filled with a new emotion.

One you were glad to see:

Hope.

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