𝗝𝗘𝗡𝗡𝗔 𝗢𝗥𝗧𝗘𝗚𝗔 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦

unhealthy obsession - J.O

SUMMARY:
after a brief encounter with jenna ortega at a meet-and-greet, y/n is surprised to receive a follow request and a message from her. what starts as a seemingly innocent exchange soon spirals into a possessive obsession, with jenna constantly messaging, showing up unannounced, and isolating y/n from friends. as y/n tries to distance themselves, jenna's behavior grows darker, her obsession tightening like a trap, until y/n realizes that escaping her hold might be impossible.

—

you never thought much of celebrities. sure, you admired them from a distance, but you always told yourself they were just people, just names you'd heard. so when your friend dragged you to jenna ortega's meet-and-greet, you felt out of place. she was beautiful, magnetic, but she was just a name on your friend's lips, a face you knew from magazines.

that changed when you stepped up to meet her, the last in line. your friend had already gone ahead, gushing over the quick selfies she'd taken with jenna. you tried to keep your cool, gave her a polite smile, kept your distance. but when jenna looked at you, it was as if the whole room went silent. her gaze lingered, a little longer than it should, and you saw her eyebrows lift, just slightly.

"you seem... different," she said, her voice soft, almost a murmur meant just for you.

you laughed nervously, shrugged it off. she held your gaze, eyes searching yours like she was trying to memorize your face. the brief exchange left you feeling strange—giddy but unsettled. it was probably nothing. you left, pushing the moment out of your mind as you rejoined your friend.

but that night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed. you glanced at it, frowning. a follow request on instagram—from jenna ortega.

your heart skipped. it had to be a joke, right? or maybe her team managing her account? but you hit accept, curiosity outweighing logic. almost immediately, a message popped up.

jenna: hi, y/n. i hope it's okay i reached out. i... couldn't stop thinking about you.

you blinked, staring at the message. it felt surreal, like a scene out of a movie. you hesitated, then typed a casual reply, something light, just to see if she was serious.

you: i didn't expect you'd remember me!

jenna: i remember a lot about you.

from there, the messages kept coming. every day, multiple times a day, jenna reached out, asking about your life, your interests. she was kind, thoughtful, curious. her questions were endless—what was your favorite color? your favorite food? did you like to read? what was your dream vacation? the messages were warm, personal, and slowly, you felt yourself getting drawn in, almost hypnotized by her attention.

but things began to shift. her messages came faster, more insistent, like she needed to know where you were, who you were with. if you took too long to respond, she'd send another message.

jenna: you're not ignoring me, are you?

you tried to laugh it off, tell yourself she was just lonely, maybe a little over-enthusiastic. but one evening, while you were out with friends, your phone buzzed.

jenna: i thought we agreed you'd tell me when you went out.

you frowned, fingers hovering over the screen. you hadn't agreed to anything like that. but before you could type a response, another message popped up.

jenna: you don't understand how much i care about you. you have no idea what it's like, thinking about you all the time.

you typed a careful reply, trying to brush it off as a misunderstanding. but it was hard to ignore the chill creeping down your spine. things were moving too fast. she was everywhere—your notifications filled with her likes, your friends disappearing one by one, as if she'd somehow driven them away without a word.

then, one night, she showed up.

you were at your favorite coffee shop, the one you'd casually mentioned to her in passing, and she walked in like she belonged there. she didn't look surprised to see you; if anything, she seemed pleased. she took the seat across from you, leaning forward, her fingers brushing against yours as she murmured, "i just wanted to see you."

you tried to smile, tried to pretend it didn't unnerve you, but her stare was intense, unblinking. she looked at you like you were the only person in the world, her fingers tapping idly on the table as she asked you about your day. every detail, every minute, like she needed to know it all.

from that day on, she'd show up without warning, always knowing where you'd be. and when you tried to confront her, her expression would shift—soft, almost hurt, like you'd wounded her.

"why are you acting like this, y/n?" she'd ask, voice trembling just slightly. "i'm just trying to keep you safe. you don't understand how much you mean to me."

you'd try to explain, tell her it was too much, but she'd look at you with those deep, unflinching eyes, and somehow, you'd find yourself apologizing, as if you were the one overreacting.

then came the gifts. small, thoughtful things at first—a book you'd mentioned, a necklace in your favorite color. but one night, you came home to find a box on your doorstep. inside was a single rose, delicate and freshly cut, and a handwritten note.

you have no idea what i'd do to keep you close, y/n. don't push me away.

you tried to distance yourself, but jenna's grip was tight, suffocating. she flooded your phone with messages, each one more desperate than the last, her words dripping with both devotion and a hint of menace. you stopped posting on social media, hoping it'd make her lose interest, but instead, she started showing up more often, as if your silence made her crave you more.

one night, you couldn't take it anymore. you told her, face-to-face, that you needed space. she laughed, a soft, unsettling sound, her fingers tracing invisible patterns on the table between you.

"space?" she repeated, her voice laced with disbelief. "y/n, you're all i think about. i go to sleep thinking of you, wake up dreaming of you. don't you see? no one will ever care about you like i do."

you swallowed, trying to hold her gaze without flinching. "jenna, this isn't... normal."

she tilted her head, her smile fading. "maybe normal doesn't matter," she whispered, her voice chillingly calm. "maybe it's just you and me, and maybe that's all that's ever mattered."

you stood up to leave, feeling her eyes follow you, the weight of her stare burning into your back. as you walked away, you heard her say, quietly but clear enough to make your blood run cold:

"you'll come back to me, y/n. you always do."

and as you stepped outside, feeling the night air prickle against your skin, you knew she wasn't finished with you. it was only just the beginning.