Stories about Y/n creating bonds with characters from series and films.
(I don't own the characters)
PG-13!
1. **Language:** Mild to moderate profanity, but not extreme or pervasive.
2. **Violence:** Some intense or realistic violence may be present...
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Homer leaned in close, his breath warm against Y/n's neck. His lips grazed her skin, and she felt his body shudder with a mix of desire and excitement. "Your girlfriend won't like this at all, Homer," she whispered, trying to keep her voice steady despite the electricity that shot through her with every touch.
"I don't have a girlfriend!" he murmured, his voice low and husky as he kissed her neck. His words were a direct defiance of the reality everyone in Springfield knew. "Marge is just a friend of my father's."
Y/n pulled back slightly, meeting his gaze. "Is it because she touches you like that? And worse, why do you leave?"
Homer's eyes darkened with a mischievous glint. "I like to see the way you are dying of jealousy," he admitted with a wicked smile. "You look beautiful when you're angry. And that turns me on so fucking much."
Y/n scoffed, trying to maintain her composure. "Who said I'm jealous of you? You think you're the only cookie in the package, right?"
"I think so," Homer replied, his confidence dripping with arrogance. "Because I'm the only cookie you want to try." He grabbed her hand, his grip firm and possessive. "Come with me."
Without giving her a chance to resist, Homer pulled Y/n towards his bedroom. The walk down the familiar hallway was tense, charged with a mix of anticipation and doubt. When they arrived, Homer swiftly locked the door behind them, ensuring their privacy.
Y/n leaned against the door, a smirk playing on her lips as Homer began to unbutton her shirt. "What the fuck are you doing?" she teased, her voice challenging even as her pulse quickened.
Homer paused, his eyes locking onto hers with a mix of intensity and hunger. "What does it look like?" he retorted, his tone dripping with intent. He slowly leaned in, his hands tracing the curve of her waist as he continued to undress her. "I'm giving you exactly what you want."
Despite her earlier bravado, Y/n felt a surge of heat at his words. This was dangerous, intoxicating—something she knew she should resist but couldn't bring herself to stop. Homer's touch, once clumsy and innocent, now carried an edge, a darkness that both thrilled and terrified her.
As the tension in the room thickened, Homer's lips found hers in a kiss that was rough and demanding, a stark contrast to his usually goofy demeanor. This was a side of him Y/n had never seen before, a side that revealed just how deep his desires ran, and how far he was willing to go to satisfy them.
For a brief moment, Y/n wondered how long they could keep this up. How long could they play this dangerous game before everything came crashing down? But as Homer's hands roamed her body, making her pulse race, all thoughts of consequences vanished, leaving only the burning need between them.
And as the night wore on, Y/n realized that maybe—just maybe—she was more drawn to this dark, twisted version of Homer than she was willing to admit.
