FORCED MARRIAGE | Jenna Ortega x Female Reader

26

I love my wife so much... -Y/N

I hang up the phone, and with a sigh, I return my attention to the television. Tomorrow, I have an appointment at the adoption agency at 10 am; I hope Olivia, the agent, is pleasant. The thought crosses my mind about who we'll choose as the biological mother. Ideally, I'd love our child to resemble Jenna – to have her eyes, her hair, her graceful demeanor. Our child could epitomize perfection. Together with Jenna, we'd ensure his happiness, spoiling him with love. He would undoubtedly be the most beautiful, and while I'd strive to imbue him with my grounded nature, I'd hope to spare him my occasional silliness. Lost in these musings, I eventually drift off to sleep on the living room couch, alone.

I awaken to the sensation of my head nestled against something soft and comforting. Even in the darkness, I discern Jenna's silhouette in our room. As she leans down to kiss my forehead, I wonder if she carried me here – does she possess such strength? Can someone as delicate and petite as her be so powerful?

"Hmmm..." she settles beside me in bed, her attention diverted to her phone screen as she begins typing away.

Turning toward her, I inadvertently sprawl over her, resting my head on her chest and stealing a gentle kiss. I can't help but notice she's still clad in a bra, her jeans left on. Jenna usually sleeps in her underwear, like me. Is it odd to wear such tight jeans to bed? Surely not.

"Babe, what time is it?" I inquire, my voice heavy with fatigue. Jenna's laughter fills the air as she tenderly strokes my hair.

Breathing in her familiar scent, I'm overwhelmed by my love for her. But why is she laughing?

"What's amusing?" I ask, feeling a tad affronted. She stifles her laughter, her eyes still fixed on her phone.

"The nickname, 'Baby,'" she replies, a smile playing at her lips.

Despite her inability to see me, I return her smile. Gazing at her tired yet beautiful face, illuminated by the soft glow of her phone, I'm struck by the certainty that she's the one – my wife, my partner for life. Our connection has always felt inevitable, as if we were destined to be together.

"Could you... stop staring at me?" she teases, her laughter tinged with shyness.

Chuckling softly, I lean closer. Though her attention remains on her phone, her smile grows as I draw nearer. She sets aside her phone, reaching to switch on the bedside lamp before meeting my gaze. Our eyes lock, and I can't help but wonder what she sees in me. Why does she love me? I'm a mess – clumsy, obsessed – with little to offer. Yet, here she is, the embodiment of perfection, in love with my imperfections. Unable to contain myself, I whisper,

"My wife." Her cheeks flush as she intertwines her fingers behind my neck, drawing me into a passionate kiss.

Once again, it's Jenna leading the way, her ardor evident as she deepens the kiss. Despite my exhaustion, I'd never tire of kissing her. When she finally pulls back, her lips are swollen, and she's breathless.

"I love you," she declares.

My heart swells with emotion. She loves me – evidenced not only by her words but by her tender gaze, her affectionate gestures, her kisses overflowing with love. And I, in turn, can't help but love her with all my being, for she is my wife.

Warning : SMUT 

I tenderly press my lips against hers, feeling the rush of excitement coursing through me. I sense her awareness of my growing desire, her cheeks flushing even deeper. I'm consumed by heat, yearning for her touch. As I remove my sweater and focus on her neck, her warm hands caress my back, sending shivers down my spine. Her mere touch ignites a fire within me. With eager anticipation, I explore her body, starting with her breasts, still concealed by her bra. I steal a glance at her, witnessing her head thrown back in pleasure. Her moans already fill the room, a delightful melody I hope won't disturb Tyler in the next room. Frustration mounts as I struggle to unclasp her bra, cursing under my breath in a moment of exasperation.