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[halfmoonaria]

lots of ppl have been asking for it, so i’ve been thinking abt making a part two for both “not allowed” and “life on stage”.

[halfmoonaria]

return

pairing: tara carpenter x female!reader

summary: tara returns to woodsboro, in hopes to find you again.

word count: 2.8k

Tara missed being a kid.

She missed being competitive over who blew the biggest bubbles in the milk.

Putting on impromptu talent shows in the living room, singing horribly and dancing to inappropriate songs, or attempting to do magic tricks that never worked.

Pretending to be pirates searching for a hidden treasure, who in reality was either hidden by herself or Sam because she was forced to.

She missed everything about being a kid, simply because everything was so much easier. When her whole family was gathered at the dinner table every night, or when she didn't have to worry about a new serial killer dressed as Ghostface, back to when the costume was just something Stab fans wore for Halloween.

Although she mainly missed it because of the person she had spent her whole childhood with.

You.

Growing up, you and Tara had been inseparable for years.

It was unclear how you became friends to begin with, even for Tara herself. All she knew was that you had randomly complemented her shoes one day at recess in preschool, and everything kind of happened from there.

You and Tara hung out every day, sleepovers every weekend and sometimes even on weekdays when Sam played the role of babysitter and allowed it.

Sharing clothes and toys, almost like sisters. Some people actually thought you were; always being attached to the hip.

Tara had never thought that the two of you would get separated or grow apart, ever. However, that's what happened.

After the massacre in Woodsboro, Sam had basically forced Tara out of town, not wanting to spend any more time in there than necessary. Not that Tara didn't want to get out, but because she knew that you wouldn't come with them.

You had tried to convince your parent to let you go with them, or maybe even that you moved there all together, but they straight up refused; reason unknown, they refused to explain. They claimed that you were their daughter, and as long you lived under their roof, they had the responsibilities to keep you safe.

You understood that they wanted the best for you, and that it simply wasn't that easy for them to just drop their entire life to move to New York City. But you and Tara came as a couple, which was why you both felt miserable when she left town.

Even though she had Sam and the twins with her, it still didn't feel right.

The promise that was made between the two of you about texting and calling every night was quickly fading, almost after the first week.

Tara was occupied by college and the studies that came with it, and if she was being completely honest, she had no idea what you were up to. And even though she never got time to call you, she thought about you every day.

The memories and thoughts became too much sometimes, which led to Tara texting you; either questions about how you were doing, or just paragraphs about what was happening in New York. in hopes to receive answers, which she did.

In the beginning she received short answers laced with kindness and empathy, but suddenly you had stopped answering.

Tara couldn't think of any reason for you to be mad at her, which was why confusion and uncertainty were the only feelings in her body.

You couldn't be mad at her for leaving right? You knew it wasn't up for debate. Maybe you were frustrated because Tara hadn't contacted you sooner? But the phone works two ways, right?

She tried to tell herself that you would reach out to her sooner or later, whenever you were ready or felt like it, hence to why months passed without any contact between the two of you.

Six months without any touch and you didn't leave Tara's mind for a second.

She was starting to worry.

Had you already found a new friends?

The thought hurt to think about, Tara could barely talk to other people without finding connections to things you used to say or inside jokes the two of you had, what if you'd already forgotten her?

You were on Tara's mind as if you were dead. She missed you as if you were deceased.

She tried to think about Woodsboro like the town she grew up in, the town she never wanted to leave.

Instead, all she could think about was the way she had left you with three stab wounds in your abdomen, when you had been the first one to arrive at the hospital when she had gotten attacked.

Tara would never forgive herself for giving into Sam that easily, leaving you in that state; since you had straight up refused to even leave the room when Tara was injured.

You had been by Tara's side the second you met her. Protecting her from bullies, standing up for her against teachers, and even her parents sometimes.

She wouldn't be too surprised if you were mad at her for leaving without any further explanation. All she told you was that she would be moving to New York because Sam said so. Two days later she was gone.

Tara knew that too much time had passed, that you'd probably get frustrated if she decided to visit now. After almost a year. However, Tara felt like she needed to see you. Even though she had nothing special to say; other than news from the big city. Which she knew you would love.

Convincing Sam to let her go back to Woodsboro wasn't easy, almost impossible indeed.

However, when Tara mentioned that it was to visit you, she changed her mind.

Sam had asserted that she would never go back to Woodsboro, not even if she got payed for it.

Although, Sam had always carried a soft spot for you.

You were Tara's best friend. Tara talked about you all the time. Even when you were kids, if you weren't with Tara; which was unlikely, talking about you and the things she did with you were the only thing that escaped her quiet mouth at the dinner table.

It would be impossible not to like you. Even if she wouldn't have liked you the first time you came to their house, she would've been forced to like you by how much time you spent there.

Sam saw how happy you made Tara. She saw how happy she was whenever you hung out with her, she heard how Tara's laugh with you, was nothing like the one she had with their parents. 

She had seen the look on Tara's face when she heard that you had gotten hurt, stabbed.

The painting of panic that was on her face the whole time they were in the hospital after those news.

Sam knew Tara had the twins with her, but she also knew that wasn't enough. Based on the way Tara was when you weren't around, showed how nothing would be the same until she had allowed Tara see you. If that meant going back to Woodsboro, then so be it.

The drive between the two towns was rather long. Hours to be exact. Hours filled with nerves, anxiety and hand sweat.

Tara had no idea how you would react to seeing her. She didn't even know if you would be located in the same area, what if you had moved?

Sam was asking Tara tons of questions throughout the whole car ride. Questions that Tara wasn't able to answer, either because she was too nervous or because she didn't know.

She asked what you were doing these days, if you were studying college or if you had a job, and embarrassing as it was, Tara didn't know.

By the time the drive was finished, when they had arrived in Woodsboro. Tara felt like she didn't know you anymore.

She barely knew what you looked like. She didn't know what you did for a living, or who you hung out with.

Although she did figure out that you lived at the same address, since your father's truck was parked outside your house. Proving that you still lived in the same place.

When Tara was standing in front of your front door, she couldn't bring herself to knock. Her sweaty hands were placed on her denim covered thighs, and was stuck there.

Because moving them meant knocking, and knocking meant you opening.

Sam had insisted on staying in the car, claiming that she wanted you to have space and the opportunity for private conversation, if that's what you needed.

So instead of asking Tara what she was doing, she just watched her little sister about to have a nervous breakdown in front of her best friends house.

Finally, Tara brought up her tightly knitted fist and knocked. Quick and hard, just so she couldn't change her mind.

It didn't take more than a few seconds til footsteps was heard from inside the house.

No "I'm coming!" was heard, no running footsteps of you basically tripping down the stairs or over the hallway carpet. Stuff that could always be heard whenever Tara came over on the weekends.

The door swung open, and Tara was surprised when she saw your mother standing in front of her, not you, like Tara would've thought.

Maybe you weren't home?

Your mother looked shocked, her eyes widened as she recalled who was standing outside her house. Tears looked as if they were making appearance on her eyes, just by the sight of Tara.

Tara tried to smile, but it barely reached her cheeks. She was too nervous. What if your mother was mad at her too?

"Tara." Your mother sighed out in disbelief, completely caught off guard by the fact that her daughters old best friend was standing in front of her.

Tara's mouth couldn't utter words, she wanted to say something, but the words just fell away. Instead the only thing that came out was a quiet "Hi".

She almost felt embarrassed; being so shy and nervous in front of the woman who had once been like a second mother to her.

"Would you like to come inside?" Your mother voice was soft, yet shaky at the same time. She seemed worried around Tara.

Did the rumors about Sam reach your house too? Was she scared of her?

Your mom stepped aside and opened the door wider, motioning for Tara to step inside.

Smiling softly at her when she carefully nodded and stepped inside.

The tension was so thick that you could cut it with a knife, and it was stressing Tara out.

She wanted to break the silence that entered the house as soon as she entered. Although her lips didn't dare to move as she scanned the house.

Tara didn't make it further than to the coat hanger before all of the memories rushed back to her.

There was the banister that you and Tara always used to slide down whenever dinner was ready, or the stairs that you and Tara once used a mattress to slide down.

There was the kitchen table were your family had organized seats for everyone, Tara was counted in there as well.

All of the memories almost made her tear up, but she couldn't cry in front of your mom, not when she just came here. That would be ridiculous. The thought of it made her panic. The whole situation made her panic.

Your mother closed the door behind her, opening her mouth to talk. "So how's New York treating you? Is it better than this cave?" She laughed.

"It's great" Tara nodded, wiping her hands yet again on her thighs. "It's a very busy town. Lots of new people."

She wanted to make it sound like it was all great. That she had found lots of new friends and maybe even a job. And it seemed to fool your mom, but it made Tara want to cringe.

Your mom had a big smile placed on her face, nodding along as Tara spoke. Which only made the guilt grow more and more. She knew it wasn't right to lie, but she couldn't help it; you had probably moved on a long time ago.

As soon as Tara didn't have any lies left to sell, she tried to bring up the actual reason for why she came there to begin with.

"Is Y/N here?" She finally asked, voice shaky of nerves. However, your mother should've understood that's why she was here, right?

But instead of demonstrating any kind of understanding her face dropped. The big friendly smile that was previously displayed on her face was nowhere to be seen, as soon as Tara had opened her mouth.

Tara watched her features carefully, looking up to her as if she was her child that had just gotten scolded. Nothing in her face expression changed, the only addition Tara could make out was the layer of tears that began forming once again.

"Oh honey." Your mom sighed out, her lips slightly shaking while speaking. Then she started walking, towards the couch in the living room, not far away from the front door.

Tara hesitantly followed, nothing but confusion painted on her face.

As she walked behind your mom, her eyes flickered to all of the photos that was placed on top of the fireplace. It was filled with frames around your pretty child face, tons were you were

making silly faces, smiling, posing in outfits. Some of them even had Tara in them too.

Just the look of the photos made Tara think back to the times when you were really that young. When nothing mattered except what ice cream flavor you'd choose from the kiosk.

Your mother had taken a seat on the sofa, and was waiting patiently for Tara to sit down next to her. And when she did, it looked like she had already began crying.

She took Tara's hands in hers, almost as if they were about to start praying together.

"Tara." She spoke softly. However, Tara only nodded as a response, the nerves were swirling around in her body so badly that she couldn't find her voice to speak. Your mother's nose had turned red, and her lips looked to be quivering slightly.

Then she spoke up again.

"Y/N was killed..5 months ago, in the.. massacre."

Tara's ears started ringing.

Her hand's immediately pulled away from your moms.

Her mouth opened to speak, but at that moment it wasn't even able to let out breaths.

Her breath hitched.

Heart sank to her stomach.

Layer of water coating her pupils.

The last massacre? After Tara and Sam had left? How come she had never heard about it?

Your mother looked at Tara filled with guilt, as if she had kept this from her on purpose, as if she thought Tara would find out about it through somebody else.

She was talking about something, saying something about Ghostface, how everybody managed to survive except you.

It had been at a party, last year. The person behind the mask had attacked people randomly, not people with hatred against. Random people.

And you happened to be one of them.

The person behind the mask had never been found, and the whole town had walked around in shame and horror for the past months.

The only word Tara could make out was Ghostface, her ears were ringing too loudly for her to hear anything else that came out from your mother.

You were killed? By Ghostface?

The room felt as if it was getting smaller, closing in on her, making it harder to breath.

What did you do to get taken? Why didn't she get taken? She's the one that should've been.

What if she hadn't gone to New York? Would she have been the one that got killed instead?

If she didn't move, you'd be alive. It was all her fault, wasn't it?

Tara couldn't comprehend what she was doing, her body was moving but her mind was not. Before she knew it she shot up from the couch. Her mind and gaze was focused on the pictures of you on top of the fireplace. The ones with her on them.

"I'm sorry." Tara mumbled, barely loud enough for Mrs. Y/L/N to hear it.

Her legs moved before she could even begin to process, your mom was saying something, but she couldn't hear what.

Instead child giggles took over her eardrums, they were Taras and yours. Back to when you guys were together everyday.

They didn't disappear, nor fade away the slightest, not even when she walked out the door and ran down the two stair steps of the porch to the house.

Tears where running down her face without her knowing, although she noticed it when her eyes were too blurry for her to open the car door. She fiddled with it three times before it finally opened.

Sam watched her with worried eyes the second her figure came out the door, and when Tara sat down in the front seat full on sobbing, she knew something went wrong.

"She's dead, Sam."

[halfmoonaria]

testify

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: you expose cairo to the truth she's been trying to escape from.

words: 1.1k

warnings: language & parental issues

"Cairo, What the fuck are you doing?"

Your voice was cold, sharp, and if it wasn't for Cairos focus on the pen moving in her notebook, she would've been startled. Your voice had never sounded so, angry.

Although Cairo couldn't help but let the rage within her continue to simmer and bubble.

"I'm completing my admissions essay." She stated simply, trying not to direct the anger towards you.

However, you had rage raising within you as well, and you had no plan on trying to control it. Her ignorance and lack of empathy was starting to piss you off, and you knew that she was aware of that.

"Don't act foolish Cairo." You spit, walking closer towards her ginormous bed, getting a closer look on the cigarette in her hand; a habit she had picked up to impress your current English teacher. "It doesn't suit you."

She didn't dare to look up, not until you brought up his name. "What are you doing to Mr. Miller?"

Cairo looked up at the mention of the teacher, and it was at that you noticed the trails of mascara stains under her eyes.

Her gaze didn't look regretful, it looked full of a burning desire for revenge.

"I'm testifying against him, infront of the school board." She stated simply, putting the notebook and pencil beside her to sit up, her legs hanging from the bedside.

"Why?" Your voice came out way more questioning than you had planned on. But you weren't stupid, you knew why Cairo was doing this, you had heard the full story from Winnie, and parts of it from Cairo herself.

Cairo was known by her friends to be vengeful, she always held a grudge towards people when she didn't get her way, like now. She didn't successfully seduce Mr. Miller, so now she's trying to fire him.

"He underestimated me. I overestimated him." She stood to her feet, slowly walking alongside the bed, like she was scared of you. Although you knew she wasn't, Cairo wasn't scared of anything; even when she should've been.

Her way of showing she had more power than the other person, had always been slowly walking towards them, deep eye contact with the person who she was trying to intimidate.

It never seemed to work with you.

"You're gonna ruin his life." You spoke, voice hard enough to shatter glass, the sentence and the harsh tone in your voice made Cairo stop, her jaw clenching. "And for what?"

Your voice came out as a whisper, but you didn't pay it any mind, since it seemed to make Cairo realize her mistakes. Which was extremely rare for her.

Cairo felt judged. She had never felt that particular type of feeling before, in fact, she never felt anything when people would scold her, nothing but the need for revenge.

Your eyes were looking at Cairo like she was depraved, twisted. Like she was disgusting to look at, she had never cared when anyone else did that. It was different with you tho. It felt like a sharp pain in the chest.

"To avenge your rejection?" Cairo looked back at you as you spoke, your voice basically echoing in her ears. "To punish him? Because he didn't want to fuck you?" You spit out.

"He wanted to fuck me, Y/n." She was quick to reply. Cairo had always been quick-witted, coming up with clever and snarky remarks before the sentence had the chance to be finished, but this time her words sounded more like she was trying to convince herself.

You raised your eyebrows, snorting with laughter at her quick remark, "Sure."

Cairo almost felt frightened when your figure began taking slow steps towards her. She didn't know why she was suddenly feeling so intimidated and afraid by you, was it the look in your eyes? Or the fact that Cairo knew how wise you could be with your words?

"But he didn't leave his wife for you."

The sentence made Cairos face drop, her proud smirk fell as quickly as it appeared, her lips were now quivering instead, a new layer of tears beginning to coat her irises.

She breathed in deeply, chest slowly rising, trying to contain herself from letting the tears fall freely.

"And you know why that is, Cairo?" You moved even further towards her, now standing close enough for her to hear you take a breath before continuing. "Because he loves her."

You spoke slowly, like Cairo was a child that couldn't understand what was said if it wasn't in the right pace. Cairo hated being treated like a child.

"He didn't love you." She wanted to speak, reply with words, something. However her mouth didn't dare to move, was it because you were right? She couldn't bring herself to think that was an actually option.

"He just liked that you gave him the attention his wife isn't."

Cairo no longer cared if you were correct, she was now trying her absolute hardest to not give in, to not let your echoing voice take over her head. It was difficult, to say the least.

"But you thought he loved you, right? Because he showed you the least bit of attention, and you felt lonely.." The fact that you didn't stutter once while speaking, made Cairo feel scared.

She had never seen this side of you.

"Or maybe you felt like his daughter?" You tilted your head slightly, watching as her jaw clenched.

"Did you crave the love from an older man because you haven't experienced it from your father?"

"Stop." Cairos voice was shaky, something she was surprised by hearing herself, her voice had never been shaky, not even when crying as a kid.

You smirked proudly, just like she had been doing just minutes before, which you had quickly wiped of just within seconds of talking.

"Go ahead and testify against him. But think twice about if it's really worth it." Your voice was hushed now, but still just as hard and sharp as it had been the first time you opened her mouth, she could feel your breath onto her cheeks, and she didn't doubt you could hear her quickly beating heart.

And at that, you turned on your heel, your hair basically hitting Cairo in the face on the way there. You left the room, leaving Cairo alone in the haunted bedroom.

The tears were now flowing down her face. Cairo had never cried because of something another individual had said before, let alone cried over something you did in general. But now she was, and it was embarrassing.

You were right.

[halfmoonaria]

life on stage

pairing: older sister!jenna ortega & younger!sister reader

summary: jenna watches her youngest sister fade away to a person she can barely recognize.

words: 1k

warnings: mentions of depression

Growing up with a sister in the spotlight was complicated, everyone knew that.

It automatically meant that a lot of the attention turned to the family, which some people loved and some people despised.

It was different for you tho. You didn't know if you were supposed to love it or hate it.

You had always loved performing; doing theater in school and performances at family gatherings as a kid.

All of your siblings had stayed away from stuff like that. You were basically the odd one out, being the only one to love performing and all that came with it, until acting caught your older sister's attention one day.

You were extremely happy that you had someone to share the interest with ever since then.

Although, since Jenna was older than you, she was allowed to do more things.

She had been begging your parents to let her do acting on camera for months, the first time being when she was seven.

They gave in almost immediately, and due contacts and connections, Jenna landed small parts in movies quick, which rapidly became bigger roles.

You however, was told you were too young.

And when you thought you were the appropriate age for it, Jenna had already blown up, her name growing more and more every day.

The whole family was proud of her, you as well, of course. But there was this pit of jealousy in your chest that wouldn't disappear.

You stopped trying to make it anywhere in the acting career, not because you wanted to quit, but because you knew that you wouldn't get anywhere by yourself, it would just be because you were Jenna's sister.

You were never recognized for being yourself, it was all Jenna's sister or the 'Hollywoods IT girl's' relative.

Jenna knew that you wanted to be an actress more than she ever did. Sometimes she felt as if she took it all away from you, that you would've gone even further than her if you had gotten the chance.

She never understood why you stopped trying. You had told her before that you would record audition tapes in your room at night as a secret, hoping to land a roll that either your mom or dad would allow.

Suddenly you had stopped sharing secrets about acting, you had quit theater altogether and didn't seem to have any motivation for it anymore.

When Jenna had asked your mother about it, she had simply said you didn't want to do it anymore, that you probably just grew out of it. However, Jenna knew that wasn't right.

She had never seen a kid be so passionate about acting and performing as you were, there was no way you suddenly lost interest.

And when Jenna came home for holidays or breaks in her schedule to visit the family, you didn't jump onto her to ask questions about her movies and how it was on set. You didn't do any of it. You didn't seem interested in it anymore.

In fact, you barely left your room when Jenna was home, she had to walk to your room to see you, and when she did you were asleep most times.

When you would come downstairs for dinner every other day, you no longer looked like the excited little girl that she grew up with.

Your face had changed, and sometimes she couldn't even recognize you. Surprisingly, it didn't seem like the rest of the siblings noticed any change in your looks or behavior, maybe they were used to it since Jenna was barely home anymore.

Jenna saw some signs in there. She had written a whole book about it after all. She thought it was depression, but she didn't want to bring anything up with your siblings and parents, maybe you didn't want her to.

You were hurting, Jenna could see it, in your eyes, in the fake smile and laughter when the whole table would joke at family dinner. Jenna could tell you didn't mean it.

When you laughed, she could feel the sadness filling within.

From what Jenna could see whenever she was home, you did everything by yourself, getting through it all.

She didn't know what it was, but she knew you weren't happy.

She wished she could take it all away, and help you be free from whatever thoughts were bothering you. Help you be the girl you once were, when you were happy.

Jenna could remember your little hands, your bright eyes watching everything she did, your small voice asking if she could perform something with you.

Your eyes looked tired now, and it hurt her seeing your smile fade more and more everyday.

She knew time had a way of changing people, but time didn't change the relationship she had to her other sisters and brothers, what happened to the one she had with you?

You no longer told her your secrets, she was no longer your comfort, she didn't know when you cried yourself to sleep anymore, she couldn't be there to wipe your tears. She felt like a stranger to you, her own sister.

She just wanted you to know that she was there, she would be there for you if you needed it. She would still wipe your tears if you asked her to.

Jenna hoped dearly that you never forgot that she believed in you. Wholeheartedly. With every fiber of her being. She believed in your dreams and would always do so, even when nobody did, not even yourself. She would always be your top supporter, your cheerleader.

She tried to think of you as the little girl who wore the biggest smile on stage, who loved performing almost more than she loved Jenna. Because seeing you happy made her heart smile.

There was nothing more Jenna wanted in this world than for you to live the beautiful life you deserved. The life you wanted.

The life on the stage and on camera.

[halfmoonaria]

not allowed

pairing: prof!sam carpenter x student!female reader

summary: sam does something thats certainly not allowed.

words: 2k

warnings: age gap, sexual content, language.

Sam's love life was completely dull and uneventful, it was something she's very self aware of.

It was almost tragic how lonely she was.

Although she knew she should have had an active love life; being a professor brought opportunities for intellectual conversations, networking events, and collaborative projects, which should've brought at least some kind of connections to her.

But it didn't.

All of Sam's colleagues were polite and all, but they were all so much older than her, she couldn't find herself relating to relate to any of them.

And besides, dating wasn't her thing. Since the last time she had thought she found the right person, she almost ended up dead along with her sister.

Sam could never trust anyone enough to date them. All the blame for the lack of trust rested on her previous psycho ex.

Richie had left a scar on her body, and it wasn't in the form of a stab wound.

Despite the loneliness and the lack of company, Sam loved her job.

She loved the subject she was teaching, and her colleagues were actually pretty decent.

The biggest bonus was that she got a good paycheck. She didn't have to work two jobs that could barely pay the rent for her and Tara's apartment.

And to Sam's own surprise and satisfaction, the students didn't seem to whisper about her or spread the rumors that had been on the internet ever since the murders in Woodsboro.

Most of Sam's classes were filled with jocks, party-goers or just genuinely stupid people. After all, the school she taught at had a reputation for attracting a more socially-oriented crowd rather than focusing on academic excellence.

Sam wasn't really the kind of teacher that had a big connection with her classes, sure she would crack awkward jokes in class occasionally and greet them in the hall, but no more than that.

It never felt important to her, she was there to teach, to work and to get her salary.

But then there was you.

Sam never payed attention to the people that entered the classroom, or on what place they chose to sit in for the rest of the lesson. But with you, she did.

You had caught her attention the second her eyes got in contact with your figure. It had been when she was about to introduce herself in front of the class, her first day.

The way you had looked at her when she spoke didn't make you seem like the cocky or popular type, however the outfits you chose to wear to school told her otherwise.

Skirts that were either the size of a belt or skirts that would totally show your entire ass if you bent over the slightest. And if it wasn't minimal skirts it was low waisted jeans that showed the top of your underwear.

Tiny and tight crop tops that would show the exact outline and shape of your breasts.

Sam was shocked when she found out the college didn't have a dress code, since it allowed students like you to dress like models straight out from a 90s porno.

Based on the choice of clothing you thought was school appropriate, made Sam think that you were one of those popular mean girls that she used to absolute gush over in high school.

But you didn't seem to be like that. Sure, you were popular, but that was because of your prettiness, not because you were rude or that people were scared of you. Because in fact, nobody was scared of you.

You were loyal. You were friends with technically everyone, including the teachers.

From what Sam had seen in the halls and in the classroom, you always had a smile on your face, greeting everyone you saw with a wave and the smile that looked as if the person you were talking to had hung the stars.

Sam thought it was impressive how much beauty can do for a person. The way everybody loved you because you were pretty, everybody.

Although Sam didn't think much about your scandalous outfits or the way you admired Sam every time she made eye contact with you during briefings.

Not until you had began to walk towards her desk after class had been finished.

The way you would call her 'Mrs Carpenter'. Just like you should've, just like everyone else did, yet it sounded so different.

At first it had only been a simple question about an assignment, but then you started to stop by after every single lesson.

Sam tried to act like normal, responsible. But it was almost impossible when you would slightly lean forward, basically forcing Sam's gaze to your chest. Your hushed and low voice did it for her as well. You talked as if it was secret, as if nobody else was allowed to hear.

She was starting to think that it was all on purpose, that it was all because you wanted a better grade that you couldn't accomplish by yourself.

Sam knew for a certain that she wouldn't give in, she wouldn't give in because you tried to 'flirt' with her, it might've worked with your other professors but it definitely wouldn't work with her.

Sam was stubborn and incredibly obstinate, but she was also very insecure, alongside having no self respect. Most times when she would tell herself to avoid doing something, her lack of confidence would make her do it regardless.

Weeks passed and you didn't stop. You asked Sam for help after every single class.

You spoke to her in a flirty and hushed voice,  Sam had tried to talk back normally, but she would be lying if she couldn't hear her own voice sounding flirty as well.

Sam didn't know what she was doing, you were her student. But you made it so incredibly difficult for her to act like it.

You were gorgeous, model material. But that wasn't the problem. The problem was that you were aware of it, you knew how pretty you were, you knew exactly how to act around people to get your way.

She couldn't understand what was happening, but when you were with her, Sam felt this subtle flutter whenever you approached or just looked at her.

Sam had never felt that feeling before, not even when she was with Richie.

So instead of telling herself you did that with all your teachers, she began thinking that maybe, just maybe you did it because you actually liked her. Even though it wasn't allowed.

Sam was starved. Not from food starvation or hunger, but from love and touch. And she knew it was wrong to think that way when it was about you, it was so wrong.

But it was just thoughts right? Nobody could hear them.

That's what she had thought, but it was like you could read her mind.

Your attempts of trying to make Sam give in got more and more intense. You would touch her hands, standing close up to her and compliment her.

Eventually, Sam's mouth had moved faster than her mind could process. She had accepted your request for her to tutor you.

Sam knew that you didn't actually want tutoring, you were passing the subjects enough to graduate, unlike everybody else in your class. She knew that this was your attempt to flirt even more.

She knew she should've cancelled. The thought still haunted her, what would've happened if she did? Everything would've been so different.

However, Sam didn't cancel. And it turned out exactly like she thought it would.

You had insisted to sit beside her, and not in front of her. You would make sure your arms touched, that you spoke closely to her ear, you would bite your lips and toe flirt with her.

You were bold, so bold that it made you look hotter than Sam thought was possible.

Sam was desperate for something to change so she wouldn't feel the desire to be touched. Her body was craving a touch that wasn't from herself, not from anybody but you.

She felt disgusted by her own thoughts, every single thought her mind managed to convey was about you.

Next thing she knew, your lips had landed on hers. And Sam just couldn't pull away, her mind wasn't working properly. She had kissed you back.

But when her mind started to fall back in place, she pulled away, panic rushing through her as she had scanned the place, making sure nobody had seen it.

She had kissed her student, in a library. A public library.

Her mind had done this before. When she had been on top of Richie, knife going in and out of his chest, blood being the only thing that could be seen. It was like a blackout, Sam didn't know what she was doing, but at the same time, she knew exactly. But it had felt too good to stop. Just like it had been with you.

When you got the confirmation of Sam wanting the same thing, you had pulled her into the bathroom stall, where Sam couldn't help but kiss you just as hungrily as she had done in her disgusting thoughts.

Nothing mattered when your hands were roaming her body. The fact that you were her student and she was your teacher didn't seem to matter at all in that moment.

Sam couldn't understand what her mind was doing to her. This was like another one of those blackouts, where she couldn't think about the consequences of the things she was doing.

Like now, when she found herself in her own bed tangled up in the sheets, with you next to her.

Bare.

Her mind was all over the place. Thoughts racing through her mind like the traffic in New York, making her head feel like it was about to explode.

She couldn't show you the panic she was feeling about the whole situation. Because that would make you think she regretted it. And she didn't, god no she didn't.

You were so gentle yet bold at the same time. You made sure to ask for permission before doing everything, but you did everything so well.

Your touch was everything Sam's body had craved for months, it was nothing like she had done before. Your touch basically boiled on her skin.

You worshipped Sam in ways she didn't even know existed. The ways you touched her felt so good that she couldn't begin to understand what you were doing.

It had all felt so good that Sam could barely remember it. She remembered moaning, she remembered the satisfaction in it all; the warmth, the passion and the wetness.

Looking down at your figure laying against her, legs tangled up in each other, to see that your eyes were already on her. Your beautiful eyes filled with curiosity and admiration was inspecting her face, fingers smoothly running through her hair.

"What're you thinking about?" Your voice came out as a whisper, voice cracking from the lack of talking; words had not been the priority just minutes before.

When Sam made eye contact with you, all the worries faded away. She could be fired because of this, because of you, yet you were the person who could make the worries bluntly disappear.

Sam's lips curled into a gentle smile when she looked at you, bringing up her finger to subtly caress your cheek. "That this won't help you get a better grade.." She lied, a faint laugh escaping from her lips.

You smirked up at her before planting a kiss on her lips. "Please Mrs Carpenter. I promise I'll do better next time." Sarcasm laced your voice, and if Sam hadn't heard that, she would be panicking.

The fact that you had called her 'Mrs Carpenter' made her stomach twirl, sparkles flying around in it. Just like it had done when you moaned it a few minutes ago.

Although the twirls quickly turned into guilt. She shouldn't be doing this, she shouldn't be in bed with you, let alone be in her own apartment with you.

It truly didn't matter how many excuses she tried to make for herself, it wasn't right, and she should've been disgusted with herself.

She was a professor at a college who had fucked her student. And for obvious reasons, that just wasn't allowed.

[halfmoonaria]

stalker

pairing: jenna ortega & reader

summary: jenna can't help but watch you when you can't see.

words: 1.2k

warnings: stalking & sexual content.

Jenna didn't mean to watch you, honestly.

But your window was right in front of hers, and your curtains were always open; doing the opposite job and didn't cover your room at all.

The first time she noticed you was when she finally had a free day, which was unexpectedly super boring for her. She had nothing to do.

That's when you caught her attention.

You were walking around in your bedroom with barely any clothes on, technically half naked if you will. You were talking to someone on the phone, smirking and twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

You walked all around the room, not noticing the burning stare Jenna held on you for the whole time you were on the call.

At first Jenna had stood behind her curtain, only her eyes peeking out for her to see you. But when she noticed you didn't plan on catching her soon, she got braver; standing so her whole figure was visible. So she could see you better.

She only had one window to see you through, so unfortunately she couldn't see you when you were in the other rooms of your apartment. But that wasn't something she worried about, since you were in the bedroom almost every single time she began watching.

She knew it wasn't right, and she tried telling herself to stop. But ever since she saw you that first time, on the phone, barely any clothes on, she couldn't help herself. She was captivated by you, infatuated.

So she began to watch you almost every night. No matter what you were doing. She couldn't get herself to stop.

She had been lucky enough to watch you change almost every night. When you changed in the morning, when you changed at night or when you stripped to use the shower.

The thing that was taking her through the rough days of stunts and acting, was the fact that she would be able to watch you when she got home.

Eventually she had watched you so many times that she had learned your shower schedule and what time you used to go to bed at night.

There were a few nights where she would notice you going out in fancy clothes, she assumed that you were either going out on dates, or that you were going out to party and drink at some club.

She hadn't had the guts to follow you anywhere yet. She knew that paparazzi of some kind would find her, exposing herself if you noticed the flashing cameras.

But when you would arrive home again, late at night after those 'events', Jenna would watch you again. She had been so lucky that she would see you bring home all kinds of women and men as one night stands.

She would watch everything. From beginning to end. From the moment your clothes started dropping to when you were panting on the bed.

She enjoyed watching you with women the most, because she could think that it was her, that she was the one that was above you, pleasuring, preaching and worshipping you, that she was the one that undressed you, or that she was the one to kiss every inch of your body.

She would be different than all the other people you brought home with you.

Jenna had never heard your voice, your laugh, your personality or your moans. But she still felt like she knew everything about you. She knew your bedtime and morning routine, your favorite movie that she had seen you watch on repeat, and what lingerie you wore most of the times when you got laid.

Embarrassing as it was, Jenna had actually gotten off to watching you more than once. There were some days you didn't have to do much at all, and some days she did it when she caught you having sex with some random woman.

She couldn't help it. One second she was just sparing glances into your window, and the next her hand had slipped into her underwear without her noticing.

It's not like you were going to notice right? You were clearly busy with other things.

She had seen you masturbate twice. And it had been heaven. She could see everything so clearly, every moan, what you said and the movements you made.

Jenna had imagined that she was the one you were thinking about. She thought about it so much that it began to feel real.

She felt so dirty. She knew it was wrong. But she just couldn't get herself to stop. She had tried to distract herself so she wouldn't watch you, but it never worked, she always ended up looking anyway.

She had tried to go to sleep earlier; so that she wouldn't catch you and your one night stand pleasuring each other. But the thought of you doing something without her watching made it hard for her to sleep, so she always ended up standing at her window nonetheless.

Since you guys didn't live in the same building, she hadn't seen you 'in person' yet, which she was very happy about. Not that she didn't want to meet you, just that she wouldn't have a single clue what she was going to say or do, what she would act like.

How could she ever meet you knowing she had been watching you for months? She obviously wouldn't tell you, so that wasn't the problem. But knowing that she had been doing that without you knowing almost made her feel the need to throw up.

She knew it was wrong. Every single day she told herself the wrongs of it. But it was like an obsession, like a moth into flame, she knew how bad it was, but she couldn't stop. She just couldn't.

When she watched you she didn't feel like herself. She didn't care about the industry, the stunts and the long hours of working, she didn't care for any of it. All she could feel herself caring about was you, and the things that she could see you doing.

No matter how wrong she felt and knew it was, it felt too good to stop.

It pained for her to know that she would never be able to have you, let alone meet you.

She didn't know you. But watching you she could assume and tell that you had a rather simple life.

You didn't get work calls all the time that you had to be on for hours, you didn't have to record interviews with uninteresting questions and people, you didn't have to wake up at six am to go to set and film stunts that would leave you exhausted.

Your life seemed fun and exciting. You went out to clubs and out on dates, something Jenna couldn't even remember she had done in the last five years.

Your life was so much different than Jenna's, and that's why she knew that your paths would never cross, not even if she tried.

She wanted to stop so badly, the guilt was eating her alive. The fact that she watched you every single day, knowing how you were as a person, while you probably had no idea who she was or that she even lived near you.

She knew almost everything about you, and you knew nothing about her.