FORCED MARRIAGE | Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

17

I'm lost. I just appreciate her, that's all. -Y/N

I awaken beside the lovely Jenna, memories of a lively evening with friends and Niall flooding back. Our gathering stretched into the early hours, fueled by spirits, yet thankfully devoid of any major mishaps—save for Niall's unfortunate encounter with my oversized flat-screen TV. Nevertheless, replacing it won't pose a significant issue.

As I stir in our bed, still groggy from the revelry, I find myself clad in nothing but my black panties and Jenna's oversized t-shirt. The reason escapes me, but my throbbing headache serves as a reminder of the night's indulgences. Jenna remains peacefully asleep, her gentle snoring akin to the purr of a contented kitten—a sound that never fails to charm me.

With care not to disturb her slumber, I rise and reach for any available clothing—a sweater, some sweatpants—anything to alleviate the chill of the morning air.

"Good morning, Carole!" I greet the cook/housekeeper as I enter the kitchen. Carole turns around and raises an eyebrow.

"Good morning, Mrs. Y.LN. Since when are you so cheerful?" She gives me a suspicious look.

I can't help but roll my eyes and smile simultaneously. Since when did I become so cheerful? Or perhaps I've always been this way?

"I've always been naturally cheerful!"

"Yeah, right," she says, chuckling.

She turns back to the stove, focused on preparing breakfast. Today, my plans with Jenna are laid out: a trip to the restaurant, followed by a movie, then bowling, ice skating, a whirl at the amusement park, another meal out, and finally, ending the day at home with passionate kisses. The anticipation of spending every moment with her fills me with boundless excitement, radiating energy that's palpable.

Her nonchalance towards the mess from last night's antics is a relief, and I'm immensely grateful for it. I know she'll relish our time together. Carole sets down a steaming cup of tea accompanied by freshly baked cookies, likely whipped up just moments ago. Despite their enticing aroma, I find myself unable to indulge. My stomach is already full, likely from the indulgences of last night. Surprisingly, there's no hangover in sight. Typically, after a night of excess, I'd nurse a headache all day. But not today. Today, buoyed by anticipation and a sense of contentment, any discomfort is forgotten.

"Good morning, Caro'", Jenna's hoarse and broken voice in the morning gives me a little pang in my heart.

I pivot to find her fully attired, donning a strapless black leather gown. A slight crease forms on my brow.

"Good morning to you," she leans over and gives me a kiss. 

I relish the exquisite sensation of her lips meeting mine, a momentary enchantment that lingers. With three gentle caresses, she withdraws, poised beside me.

"Where are you going?" I ask, taking a sip of my tea.

"Last night, my manager called to tell me that I have to go to Los Angeles for an important shows that I've been nominated for. It's the season. I have to do one today, one tommorow and interviews the day after tomorrow," she sighs. "So, I'll be away for 3 days."

I'm utterly stunned. Three days have passed, three days void of Jenna's presence. Three days devoid of seeing her, of sharing moments together. Three days without the touch of her lips upon mine.

"But, I wanted us to go out today," I say disappointed.

She sighs and looks at me, also disappointed.

"Oh, I would have gladly accepted...but I really have to go do my job, Y/N. I'm sorry," she looks at the floor.

I must express my profound disappointment. I had eagerly anticipated a wonderful day with Jenna, hoping to deepen our connection. However, my excitement was dampened upon discovering that she will be away for three days. The mere thought of being without her for such a duration troubles me deeply. Throughout our marriage, we have never been separated, not even for a single day. The idea of her being miles away, surrounded by captivating individuals who undoubtedly find her appealing, is vexing. I find myself longing to accompany her, to stand by her side and ensure her safety in unfamiliar surroundings.

"Can I come?" I ask without thinking too much. 

She delicately nibbles on her lower lip while idly toying with the ring adorning her middle finger.

"Y/N, the plane takes off in an hour, and... there's not enough room for you in the audience. I won't be able to have you with me when I do red carpet or answer journalists questions. I would love to take you with me, I swear. It hurts me to be so far from you, but it's for my job." She looks at me, sadly.

I grin foolishly upon hearing her confession of pain when we're apart. She actually said it. She expressed her aversion to being separated from me. I'm overcome with the urge to shout with joy and pull her into a passionate embrace. Resisting the impulse to kiss her when she's beside me is already challenging enough, but when she articulates sentiments like that, it renders restraint utterly futile.

"I have to go. See you in three days," she gets up and heads towards the stairs.

I rise from my seat and trail behind her, intent on bidding her farewell in a manner that will leave her with a smile. As I step into the room, my eyes catch sight of a sleek black suitcase, which Jenna promptly picks up. Seizing the moment, I wrap my arms around her from behind, enveloping her in a tender embrace. With my chest against her bare back, I plant a gentle kiss on her neck, eliciting surprise from Jenna, yet she allows the affectionate gesture to linger.

"You don't even give me a kiss to say goodbye?" I whisper.

I delicately raise my hands towards her chest; startled, she swiftly turns around.

"Y/N! You're crazy! I've already told you-"

I abruptly silence her with a kiss, our lips meeting in a heated exchange. She responds eagerly, her mouth moving in sync with mine as I gently intertwine our tongues. I relish the sensation of her hair between my fingers as I pull her closer. Our breath mingles in the air, and she tightens her grip on my hips, drawing me nearer. It's evident she enjoys kissing me, though I wonder if she realizes I derive just as much pleasure from it; perhaps she suspects.

Suddenly, a car horn blares below, likely signaling Jenna's departure. Reluctantly, she breaks away from our embrace, her lips stained a deep red, her cheeks flushed. Her tousled hair only adds to her allure, igniting a primal desire within me that leaves me feeling flushed even through my sweatpants.

"I have to go," she murmurs.

I tenderly kiss her one last time and bid her farewell. As she departs, I resist the urge to trail after her to the car. The mere thought of Jenna being distant from me unsettles me deeply. It's as though I'm entrusting something profoundly significant to the world, fearing that others might lay claim to what I hold dear. Yet, deep down, I'm aware that Jenna isn't mine to possess; she's simply my wife. It vexes me to be consumed by such concern for her well-being. With three days ahead of me to indulge in any whim, the notion of infidelity doesn't appeal to me, despite my past inclinations. It's her unwavering devotion and the inexplicable emotions I experience when I'm with her that restrain me. I'm lost in my feelings for her, overwhelmed by an intense appreciation that defies simple explanation.

Jenna effortlessly garners affection from everyone, and I'm duty-bound to cherish her. At times, my admiration for her is so profound that I find myself drawn to her lips impulsively. I long to bring her joy with every word she speaks to me. The mere thought of her absence for a few days fills me with a visceral sense of dread. Do I love her? No, it's not quite love. Nevertheless, these tears are shed for her, for I will miss her dearly.

I love you so much. -J