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80s4life · 2 years

Text

Gullible

Word Count: 3,970

Status: Requested!

Ask: I'm a sucker for him anyway LOL. And please write more of him!

@: @violetoquinn54

Fandom: Back To The Future Series

Relationship: Biff Tannen x Violet O’Quinn (Not my OC)

Summary: They had their fights, they had their agreements. They had their prejudices and they had their prides. They had their reputations and their futures. But, even when they’re so different, yet so alike, why do they always manage to find each other after pushing themselves away?

Warnings: language, fighting, alcohol consumption, weed and cigarettes, lewd jokes, slightly angsty, implied sexua activities/assault, mentioned deaths, slight bullying (on Violet’s part and her short temper)

Masterlist Back To The Future Masterlist

{gif is not mine, credits go to @brooklynpa-c}

“Mhm. Mhm. Mhm,” Violet nods, victory curls bobbing as she exaggerates her movements. She wasn’t particularly listening anyway, placing and pinning bits of different fabrics on her plush mannequin.

It was the same tale, Lorraine droning on and on about boys, particularly the invincible Biff Tannen, and how either none or all of them want her; it really depends on the day it seems. Violet tries her best to balance the corded phone on her shoulder, eyebrows scrunching as she tries to wrap her creative brain around the style she’s aiming for.

Sighing, she places the container of pins down, settling her easily bubbling nerves as she feels the frustration itch underneath her skin. Reaching in her back pocket, she pulls out a cancer stick, placing the thin roll of crushed drugs between her heavily dyed lips, flicking the lighter for a match.

Inhaling the thick cloud of nicotine, she feels her nerves begin to ease, perching herself on her window sill. Allowing the smoke to escape out and into the warm breeze of summer, she finally decides to indulge Lorraine in a little bit of attention, finally zoning in on the topic.

“He’s just so... so ignorant,” Lorraine sputters, recounting Biff’s attitude towards her earlier today.

“It’s not something he usually doesn’t already do, Lo. He’s had the hots for you since we were at least fucking five,” Violet flicks the burnt ash at the butt of the cigarette.

“Yes, but why must he pester me everyday?” she groans, Violet joining her as she knows this’ll bring on another onslaught of complaints.

Pretending to check her watch, she chokes on the puff she inhaled, the time reading 11:45 pm. “Hey Lo, I know you’re all riled up and ready to beat him down to a stump, but we should sleep at some point.”

Violet hears a rustle and a sigh before Lorraine speaks again, “Yeah, like you sleep anyway.”

Violet snorts, feigning offense by gasping, “Don’t you know I need precisely 8 hours of beauty sleep? A minute more or a minute less would give me bags under my eyes, and - oh - the stress. It’ll break my schedule and surely mess with my hair growth!”

Lorraine giggles as Violet smirks to herself, the pair knowing all too well who she’s mocking. Sure, to some this would be cruel, but if you’d spent at least 5 minutes with Magenta O’Quinn, you’d instantly understand where the drama checks out.

“Besides,” Violet heaves after a good bout of breathy giggles, “We do need to sleep if we plan on going to the Weston Annual Party.” Violet’s face shines in mischief just thinking about the possibilities; she hadn’t had much fun this year with the inheritance, family business, and trying to somewhat stay grounded with decent grades at school.

Maybe she could even branch out, given it’s her last year. Maybe even move on from the familiar broad-shouldered, blue-eyed boy she oftentimes finds sneaking into her room more times than she could count.

“Are you sure you want to get caught up in that mess, Vi? You know who’s gonna be there and you know how he gets with his alcohol,” Lorraine twirls the cord of her phone between her fingers, brain swiping through all the endless scenarios in her head.

“Trust me, ain’t no one messin’ with you there Lorraine. And, if he tries it, he’s never met Violet O’Quinn on a bad day, especially if he thinks he’ll ruin my one night out,” Violet flicks her cigarette out the window, closing it with the lock at the top as she stretches to close the curtains, too. “God knows I need it,” she mutters, staring at the stars outside.

“If you say so, Vi,” Lorraine yawns, “Anyway, we really do need to head to bed. I don’t want my Pops hollering.”

“Alrighty, good night Lorraine,” Violet draws in her signature Southern accent, making sure to talk long and slow to give her one last laugh.

Putting the phone back on the holster, Violet takes a moment to stare at her bed; fluffy, untouched pillows and comforter begging her in with warm arms. Then, slowly, she turns towards the array of mannequins, and with a defeated sigh, her hands find the container of pins again, inspiration spiking once more as she gets lost on her new design.

She couldn’t recall when she’d passed out, but with the horrendous banging and yelling on the other side of her bedroom door, she finds herself jolting up from the cool of her hardwood flooring. Painfully, she hisses upon rubbing her face, pulling one of her pins out of her cheek. “Damn,” she hisses, little dabbles of blood percolating at the small pinprick.

“Violet! Let’s go!” more banging pursues, angering Violet in the slightest bit as she tries to wake up peacefully.

“I’m...Up!” she hollers back.

“Come on, Violet, we only have 5 minutes or you’re gonna be late!” Rusty calls from the door.

“Shit!” Scrambling to her feet, she slides across the flooring with the rest of her pins from the night before, mentally cursing herself for not allowing her the simplest task of just going to sleep for once.

Searching through her clothes, she finds a dark pair of roughed up, denim jeans, rolling the bottom cuffs to allow her boots some wiggle room. Sliding into a white T-shirt, she ties the bottom in a knot, rolling up the tight sleeves and tucking her pack of cigarettes there, completing the outfit with a black belt.

She would’ve gone for something more Violet inspired, but she really had no time to worry about the little things. Lunging for her door, she makes sure to lock it behind her, shuffling down the slim staircase behind a wall, allowing her out of her comfy attic-bedroom-turned-loft.

She grabs her bag at the kitchen counter, catches the side-wandering gaze of her envious younger twin. To make matters worse, Violet steals the toast on her plate before scurrying off to the front door and on the bus before Magenta has the chance to catch her. Opening the window, Violet sticks her head out, “It wouldn’t be so hard to run if you weren’t wearing 10 inch heels, Priss.”

...

“Violet!” the high-pitched girly voice calls after you from the other end of the hallway.

Shoving the rest of her books into her locker, she half-salutes the girl in the huge dress as if to signal she’s coming. Satisfied with what she’s taking and leaving for the weekend, she shuts the locker, places the lock and messes with the numbers, walking down the hall to meet the three teenagers at the end.

Violet tries to ignore the looks she’s given, she has for her whole life. Before her parents’ passings, she was the spoiled Priss who couldn’t manage to even look feminine; unless it was for fashion advice, then Violet was useful and the greatest thing Hill Valley’s ever seen. After the deaths, the looks were mixtures of knowing glances, disgust, and to be made fun of. Either way, she was simply...weird.

“Looking good, Shortcake,” the infamous mountain of a man cat-calls.

“Not too bad yourself,” Violet smiles, taking a small detour to indulge him in conversation. Had it been anyone else, Violet would’ve ripped them a new one, truly wish they’d never spoken or even learned how to talk in the first place. Biff Tannen was special, however.

“I heard from a little birdie that you’re gonna show up to the beer blast tonight,” he smirks, making eye contact with a very disturbed and flustered Lorriane that accidentally catches his eyes.

“That little birdie would be correct,” she states with a neutral expression, hand coming up to his cheek and moving his face back to train his eyes on her. “Though, it’s very rude to speak to someone without the respect of talking directly to them. I’da have to slap you for that one.”

“I wouldn’t be too mad about a little love tap, Shortcake,” he smirks, catching her hand in his lightly, despite his reputation.

As quickly as their hands meet is as quick as she pulls away, hand coming back to hide underneath her books, cradling it to her chest. Suddenly, her foot becomes more interesting than his cute face, shuffling her shoe around as if to look for dirt smudges.

Lifting her chin with his index finger, Biff leans in just the tiniest bit, “I expect to see you there.”

His sentence comes more off as a demand than a question, to which Violet nods with the slightest of a tint in her cheeks, green eyes finding his blue ones to make an unspoken, and rather unneeded, promise.

Scurrying off, her elbow is pulled by Lorraine, “Took you long enough! Come on, us girls are going to find outfits for tonight!”

“Lo, please, I don’t need to be taken on this extravagant shopping trip just for us to end the night with spilled beer, puke, and dirt all over us.”

“First off, ew. Secondly, we need your creative tastes!” Lorraine begs, grabbing Violet’s bag to place it in the back seat of her topless convertible.

Begrudgingly, Violet hops over the car door to sit in the back diagonal of Lorraine in the driver’s seat, side-glancing Babs as she gags way too obviously. “I saw that,” she all but snarls in warning.

Babs straightens in her seat quickly, looking the other direction as Betty rides shotgun. Both girls share a look between themselves and before they have time to check themselves, Violet shuts them down, “I saw that shit, too.” Pulling out another cigarette, Violet lights it and continues, “I also know that neither of you wanted me here,” she smirks viciously, “You aren’t too good at hiding it. I know I was only invited for Lorraine, however, you’re gonna need me if you think you’re gonna be a showstopper tonight. Hell, even a makeover, if possible.”

Easily, both girls take offense and open their mouths in surprise, Lorraine choosing to appear as if she hadn’t heard anything, and Violet blowing a puff of smoke into Babs’ face with a devilish glint in her eye; she accomplished her mission in getting back at them, she didn’t need to say anything more.

...

The shopping, even as entertaining as it was, gave Violet quite the laugh and exhaustion throughout the two hours of being there with the other girls. So much so that she divulged herself in an hour’s nap in order to recharge. She didn’t buy anything that afternoon, no, she had made something better, something much more extravagant.

Standing in the center of her bedroom was a single mannequin, plain except for the outfit bestowed upon it and begging to be worn. Hand-sewn was a cropped tee, the sleeves and edges worn and roughed out to appear used and almost dirty. A crisp white with the word “BITCH” bolded in a deep black. Riding high up to the waist was a black, white, grey, and purple plaid pair of trousers; Violet’s personality shining through with the double belts on the top that hang low to the knees, two zippers on the kneecap and lower thigh and matching set on the pockets and very ends of the ankles. To top off the look, there was a black beanie and purple long sleeved shirt underneath the T-shirt.

Once woken up and prepared for the party, Violet wore the outfit like a badge of honor, one of her greatest works to come by. Before leaving, she added her black boots and grabbed her spiked black denim jacket to sling over her shoulder.

...

Waltzing into the party with a dark pair of shades, Violet quickly feels the overcrowding of people get to her, almost as if she’s becoming claustrophobic. Taking a red solo cup, she fills if with beer ans chugs it fast, refilling the next cup in desperate need to feel the tension in her shoulders leave. It’s been too long since she’s been in a public setting like this, and now that she’s here, all she can feel is the worry and stress of the days to follow this night.

“Ah, fuck it,” she groans, discarding the cup somewhere on the floor to find something stronger. Walking around the house, she finds the living room, people of many kinds either drinking, dancing, making out, smoking, or playing games.

Leaning against the door frame, she observes the people lost in the moment; she used to be a friend of those feelings, so care-free and happy, knowing that one night couldn’t possibly mess with her plans ahead. She was a kid then, a few months changing her almost simultaneously, and now an adult is left behind feeling like she’s missed so much.

Kids cheer in the corner, the familiar game of beer pong causing her to laugh as the poor boy passes out with the sheer amount of shots he was forced to consume. Violet almost considers joining in, but the tap at her shoulder pulls her from her thoughts swiftly.

“There you are!” Lorraine screams, trying to be heard over the loud music.

“Here I am!” Violet calls back with a smile, “Enjoying the party so far?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing!” she smiles, stumbling a little, “I’m having the time of my life! I’m talking to this boy, he’s real sweet!”

Violet nods questioningly, taking in the lack of details and obvious state of her friend, “How much have you had to drink, Lo? Who have you been hanging around with?”

“Roy! Come on, let’s go meet him!” she steals Violet’s forearm, tugging firmly.

“I-I don’t know, Lorraine!”

“Stop being such a wet end, just relax! Roy’s reeeeaalllyyy cool and he’s been such the charmer.”

Violet staggers a bit, staring at Lorraine slightly taken back, following the drunken woman weakly’ her mind working 100 miles a minute and not liking the odds of what this boy seems to be trying to obtain from her friend.

Strolling up to a group of loud boys and girls leaving not a bit of their bodies to the imagination, Lorraine calls out to the boy she spoke so highly of just moments before. “Roy, I want you to meet my friend, Violet O’Quinn.”

“Roy Holtz.” He stood tall and broad, shoulders squared and arms displayed nicely underneath his tight muscle shirt, dark blue skinny jeans displaying his package to what only he feels is a show-stopper. He looks Violet up and down from head to toe, the stupid toothpick bobbing around with the continuous movements of her tongue and grinding of teeth.

“Oh, great, a true charmer,” Violet rolls her eyes, crossing her arms to display a sense of unwant and protection, defensive.

“I don’t think your friend likes me too much, Lorraine,” he giggles, “Why don’t you come and hang out with me instead, huh? I can show you a fun time.”

“Lorraine isn’t going anywhere with you, Dick.”

“Oh no, and why’s that?” he snarls, stepping up to be almost chest to chest with a much shorter Violet, her 5′2″ stature being no match to Roy’s 10 inch difference. “You want some of me instead, is that it? You jealous she’s getting my attention?

Shoving him away from her with the tips of her fingers, she looks him dead in the eye, “You’re stepping on the wrong toes if you think you’re gonna get lucky with her tonight, you hear me? You’re severely mistaken if you think you’re gonna do so much as even touch her.”

“Oh, look at the mouth on you,” Roy advances towards her again, Lorraine being long forgotten. “Just imagine all the wonders it can do,” his hands snake around to grip her ass firmly, giving it a nice squeeze.

Quickly, Violet’s hand balls into fists at her sides, shoving him off of her with immense anger. Roy falls back at the force of her and, with a few shuffled steps, Roy gathers himself with an almost matched anger. “You Bitch,” he spits, scolding the girl for her defiance.

“Fuck you,” she spits at him, saliva gathering all over his eyes.

Her actions, albeit greatly intended to piss him off, are greatly regretted as Roy cocks back his arm, fist colliding with Violet’s face before she has the chance to dodge it. Staggering back with a hand to her jaw, her vision quickly shines red, body lowering to tackle the taller guy, shoulder jabbing into his stomach to throw him off balance.

Lunging on top of him, Violet’s hands land endless blows to Roy’s face, pummeling him to the ground. Snatching her elbow just as she goes to land another punch, Roy pins it back in a painful angle, throwing her body off of his as he goes to switch their positions, a fist flying into her nose intentionally.

Somewhere, in his sick mind, his desire to see her bleed grew as the first hit didn’t quite break her nose. Her eyes tear up as another blow was thrown directly after the last, a small dabble of blood finding the rim of her nose as she feels the audible crack.

Knee hiking up from underneath Roy, Violet aims for the groin, missing but managing to use it as a block. Pushing up again, her knee pushes Roy off her once more, hand grabbing his arm and pinning it behind his back. Sitting on top of the boy again, Violet pushes the arm high enough to earn a pained cry, other hand fisting his hair to bring his head back.

Forcing him to look her in the eyes, green eyes devoid of any emotion, she all but snarls, “You ever think of using another girl again, I’ll know about it. When you think of harming them, you’ll think of me.” Violet forces her hand down, smashing Roy’s head into the pavement below them before forcing his head back again, “Do I make myself clear?”

He nods.

“I said, ‘Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?’”

“Y-Yes. Yes, ma’am.”

“That’s what I thought. Let this embarrassment be your warning, hm?”

“Yes.”

Dubbing his fear an earned win, Violet lets the boy go with the drop of his head, removing herself from on top of him. Standing above him, her eyes find the crowd that had formed around them, suddenly feeling the center of everyone’s attention. Looking for Lorraine, she watches as the girl makes a run for it, Violet quickly tearing through the crowd to chase after her, “Lorraine!”

Lorraine makes a break for the sliding glass door of the patio in the backyard, turning around momentarily to remark how close Violet was getting, eyes widening as her eyes catch something from behind. “Violet!” she calls, Roy getting up and gaining on Violet once more.

However, her warning was too late, Roy tackling Violet again, throwing her head into the pavement just as he head, only he repeats the actions multiple times. Just as Violet feels her head spin and vision start to display stars, all actions stop.

Lazily, her head turns towards her side, just catching the end of Roy’s continued war. A swift blow effectively knocks all sense of consciousness out of him, the tall victor standing above him like a waking nightmare. Fully aware of the damage he’s done, he stares at his knuckles, then turns to meet Violet’s eyes.

“You love getting yourself into trouble, huh?” Biff’s warm and deep voice paves a way through Violet’s clouded mind, huge arms coming to wrap around her limp body.

“Pervert deserved it,” she mumbles, eyes heavily lidded with the awaiting bruising and pain, adrenaline starting to run low.

“I know,” he smirks, opening the sliding door and walking you up the stairs to the bathroom in his friend’s room. “Sometimes you need to pace yourself, though. You almost didn’t make it through this one.”

“I knew you’d come to the rescue,” Violet smirks, allowing Biff to place her on the sink to get a better look at the damage.

“It’s still stupid, Tex. You don’t have to assert your dominance over every guy.”

Violet laughs, eyes closing at Biff pats the warm wash cloth over her eyes and forehead, wiping up the blood. “It’s not my fault they have shrimp dicks.”

“Guess that means I don’t have a shrimp dick then, huh?” he smiles widely.

“Oh hush,” Violet giggles, cheeks just dusting with a red tint.

“I’m serious though, Tiny, you could’ve gotten extremely hurt,” Biff’s hand finds her chin again, lifting her head with the intent of meeting her eyes and further exaggerating his point.

Suddenly, Violet feels the air shift, smile leaving her lips to show her full attention, “I know, Biff, but I had him. He was trying to use Lorraine and - I don’t know, I-”

“You felt the need to protect her,” he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah because I care for her. She’s my friend.”

Biff sighs amused, “Tex, why do you think I’m always here to end your fights for?”

Violet’s eyes widen at the question, both confusion and awe causing her walls to fall down and collapse around her. “I-I don’t know.”

“Well I ain’t taking punches just because I’m your friend, Tex.”

Violet gasps again, “Are you saying you have feelings? Biff Howard Tannen, are you saying you care about me?

“Well, I’m still here, ain’t I? I haven’t strayed like everyone else has.”

“So, you do then. Even with all of our fighting and bickering? The constant one-upping?”

“Are you really gonna make me say it, Tiny?”

“I think I need a little clarifying,” Violet grins, face slowly inching forwards.

Biff finds himself lowering his body, hands on either side of Violet’s thighs on the sink, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Violet O’Quinn.”

“You wouldn’t want it any other way, Tannen.”

Lips colliding in a passionate frenzy, Violet’s hands wrap around the huge man’s neck, hand playing with the hair at the base of his neck. Biff’s tongue drags along the bottom of her lip, begging for entrance, but in Violet’s defiance and typical teasing, she doesn’t allow him access. Groaning, his teeth nibble at her lip, encouraging a gasp that lets his tongue slide in freely.

Quietly, Violet whimpers, legs widening to allow Biff to step in closer, his hands lifting to cup her jaw carefully. With the begging of their lungs, the pair pull away with labored breaths, Biff capturing Violet’s bottom lip in her teeth for a moment before pulling away, foreheads colliding against one another’s.

“I love you, Tex.”

“I know you do, Tannen,” Violet giggles, another groan meeting her as his head falls in the crook of her neck. Slowly picking his head up with her hands, she watches as he molds to her like putty, face nuzzling into her palms. “And, that’s why I love you, too.”

“Don’t say the ‘too’ at the end... makes it sound like you’re agreeing with me,” he smirks, eyes trained on her face with adoration.

“I love you, Biff Tannen.”

“There it is,” he smiles, leaning in for another kiss.

#biff tannen #biff tannen x reader #biff tannen x oc #biff tannen imagine #thomas f. wilson #thomas f. wilson x reader #thomas f. wilson imagine #bttf #bttf x reader #bttf imagine

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