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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Y/n had always admired Ashlee, not just for her talent but for her bold personality and the way she seemed to stand up for what was right. Their relationship had been passionate, full of late-night conversations about life, music, and everything in between. But lately, Y/n had been feeling uneasy. She had heard rumors about Ashlee's manipulative side, but she had always brushed them off. Ashlee was her girlfriend, and she believed in her.
That all changed one evening when Y/n was visiting the Simpson household. Marge, always the warm host, had invited her over for dinner. During the meal, Marge seemed unusually quiet, her usual bubbly demeanor subdued. Y/n noticed the slight trembling in Marge's hands as she passed the salad bowl and the way she avoided eye contact. Something was wrong.
After dinner, when the kids had left the room, Y/n gently pressed Marge about what was bothering her. Marge hesitated at first, but eventually, she confessed everything. Ashlee had invited her out under the pretense of a friendly girls' night, only to ply her with drinks and pry information about Homer out of her. Marge felt violated, used, and humiliated. Y/n's heart sank as she listened to Marge's tearful recounting of the night.
Y/n's drive home that night was a blur. Her mind raced with conflicting emotions—anger, disappointment, betrayal. She loved Ashlee, but how could she forgive something like this? How could the woman she thought she knew, the woman she loved, be so cruel?
When Y/n finally walked through the door of the apartment she shared with Ashlee, she found her girlfriend lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine. Ashlee looked up and smiled, but Y/n's expression was cold, her jaw clenched in a way that Ashlee had never seen before.
"Hey, babe," Ashlee greeted, oblivious to the storm brewing in Y/n's eyes. "How was dinner with the Simpsons?"
Y/n didn't answer. She stood in the doorway, her eyes fixed on Ashlee, the silence thickening between them. Ashlee frowned, lowering the magazine. "Y/n? What's wrong?"
"You really want to know what's wrong?" Y/n's voice was low, almost a whisper, but there was an edge to it that made Ashlee sit up straight. "Marge told me everything, Ashlee. About how you got her drunk and manipulated her to get dirt on Homer. How could you do that?"
Ashlee's face paled slightly, but she quickly masked it with a laugh. "Oh, come on, Y/n. It was just a bit of fun. Marge is fine, and Homer—he's a jerk. He had it coming."
Y/n's eyes narrowed. "It wasn't fun, Ashlee. It was cruel. You hurt Marge, and you did it for no reason other than to protect your own image. Do you have any idea how humiliated she felt?"
Ashlee rolled her eyes, her demeanor shifting to annoyance. "You're overreacting. It's just how things work in this business. Sometimes you have to play a little dirty to get ahead."
Y/n stared at her, disbelief and anger flooding through her. "Is that what you think of me? That I'd be okay with you hurting innocent people just because it's 'business'?"
Ashlee sighed, clearly frustrated. "Y/n stop with that shit, this is how the world works. You can't be naive forever. People like Homer deserve what they get."
Y/n shook her head, tears stinging her eyes. "I can't believe I ever looked up to you. I thought you were someone who stood for something real, something good. But you're just like everyone else, using people for your own gain."
Ashlee reached out, trying to grab Y/n's hand, but Y/n pulled back, her resolve hardening. "Don't," Y/n warned, her voice breaking. "You crossed a line, and I can't forgive you for that."
Before Ashlee could respond, Y/n lifted her hand, middle finger raised defiantly in the air. The gesture was sharp, cutting through the space between them with all the anger and betrayal Y/n felt. "We're done," Y/n said, her voice cold and final.
Ashlee's eyes widened in shock, her mouth opening to say something, anything, but Y/n didn't wait to hear it. She turned on her heel and walked out, slamming the door behind her. The sound echoed in the silence of the apartment, a final punctuation to the end of their relationship.
Y/n felt a surge of emotions—anger, sadness, relief—as she walked away. She had loved Ashlee, but she couldn't be with someone who could so easily hurt others. As much as it pained her, Y/n knew she had made the right decision. She refused to let Ashlee's darkness pull her down.
That night, Y/n slept at a friend's house, her phone buzzing with messages from Ashlee that she refused to answer. She needed time, space to heal, and to figure out how to move forward. It wouldn't be easy, but Y/n knew that she deserved someone who would treat others with the same kindness and respect she valued. And that person wasn't Ashlee.
