The Other Side King!Miguel O'Hara AU PT 3
Summary: You are forced to marry the brutal King Miguel O’Hara because your kingdom's land is dying, and he’s the only one who can help you. It's officially the first day of you being his Queen, and it's up to you to find out who's killing his wives after they are married for five years. If you want to survive.
Tags: Miguel O’HaraxFem!reader, marriage of convenience, magic, both Miguel and the reader have their own magic, reader can “read” people's emotions, dislike to lovers, Miguel was lowkey obsessed with the reader before they first met, one bed tropeee, forced proxmity, forced lap sitting, very demanding Miguel!, tension tension and even more tension Tags for smut: Miguel jerking it lol
Word count: 5.6k(I tried to keep it short and sweet, but y'all know me already lol)
A/N: I hope y'all enjoy this chapter, lovelies!!! Mwah<333
Previous Chapter
Masterlist
Kinktober
You wake with a hand wrapped around your waist and a knee wedged between your thighs. Slowly, you stretch, arching your back as you begin to gather your bearings. You're not sure where the pillow went, but you bet everything that he probably moved it with those big shoulders of his.
You take in a deep breath and peel his arm off of you as gently as you can. With his little outburst yesterday, you won't be surprised if he demands that you accompany you while you go to the bathroom.
You're now halfway to the bathroom when you hear him call out to you. “Going somewhere, wife?” You turn to find your husband tangled in the sheets with his upper body on full display and his curls all over his face. Seeing him now, he actually looks…normal. Not an infuriating man who can piss you off before he even opens his mouth.
You turn back in the direction of the bathroom when you realize that you've been staring. Curse him! “I'm going to the bathroom.” Is all you say before you slam the door.
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Miguel watches as your ladies-in-waiting place the last finishing touches on you.
His Queen.
Your curls are on full display and frame your face wonderfully. They add some color to your lips before adding the most important thing yet.
Your crown.
While he knows that it truly does take a Queen some time to get ready, he feels like this is borderline excessive. But he cannot deny that you are breathtaking. You're wearing red again, as requested, because not only is it his kingdom's color but his favorite color as well, and when he saw you in the red and black assembly, he almost couldn’t help himself. You could be wearing rags, and he’ll still look at you as if you held the moon and stars in your hands. But of course, he enjoys the faces that you make when he gets on your nerves even more.
“Are you almost done? He says, trying to appear as if he doesn’t care; he fiddles with the sleeves of his suit.
“I already told you that you don’t have to wait for me; it’s you who insists that we must spend every minute together. Deal with it.” It doesn’t take a genius to note the disdain in your voice. He watches you in awe from his periphery as you send daggers his way. “After breakfast, we must walk around the kingdom so your people can get to know you.”
“And then after that?” You question.
This time, he turns to look at you fully with a grin on his face. “And after that, you are stuck with me for the rest of the day”
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After having a wonderful breakfast, except for having your annoying husband try to provoke you every chance he got, the two of you are now in the royal carriage, waiting on the green light from the royal guards that it is safe for you to step out. After the horrible events that happened yesterday, the two of you agreed to appear as the perfect newlywed couple whenever you're out together. Still, behind closed doors, it’s quite the opposite, and since you have to make your rounds throughout your new kingdom, this is one of those times.
Your eyes flicker towards your husband sitting across from you in the carriage, and he’s already looking at you. Your first instinct is to look away, but you do not; instead, you strike up a conversation, ensuring that you both know what to expect while you're out here. “I think the most we can do today is hold hands. There should be no need to kiss each other while we're out here.”
He tilts his head. “And if the people demand it?” Your brows furrow. Why would his people demand such a thing? He looks down, turning his attention to nonexistent dust on his pants. “As you read in the books, not only were my past parents and ancestors very open about their love for each other, but the people of the kingdom were as well. Just like they have no issues having orgies with their king. My people are not shy in the slightest, and if they demand that their King and Queen should kiss, would we deny them?”
You squint your eyes at him as if trying to get a better understanding of him. But he's right: if his people—your people demand a kiss as a newlywed couple, it would be very off if you were to decline. Especially given the nature of this kingdom.
“Fine, only if they demand it, then we shall...” Your words trail off, and you let the unspoken hang in the space between. Hell, you've already fucked this man in front of his court for the sake of the Kingdom. What's a little kiss?
A voice clears its throat outside the carriage. “Your Majesties, the market has been heavily guarded; the town is ready for your arrival.” You sit up a little straighter and watch your husband, waiting for his next move. You watch him get up and step out of the carriage first. Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out. “I'll use my power and let you know if I sense anything.” He nods and holds out his hand for you. Reluctantly, you take it, holding up the ends of your dress as you step out of the carriage, ready to greet your people.
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Walking with your husband hand in hand, you smile and wave at your people on each side of you. Although there are four guards on your and your husband's side, children and adults wave at you; some even throw flowers on the ground you walk on. It takes some time, but you both make it to the market. Slowly, you both walk, admiring what your people have to offer. The people of this town are clearly talented. They made paintings, drawings, and various different sculptures, some of which are innocent, and most of which are not…..There are paintings of people doing marital things, both of the same sex and not. It's good to see that his kingdom is not living in the past.
You come across a middle age women selling various necklaces, rings, and bracelets that all appear to be handmade. “Did you make all of these yourself?” You ask her, the curiosity getting the better of you. She curtsies nervously before lowering her head in submission. “Yes, I did, Your Majesty. Please; whatever catches your eye is yours; no need for payment. Just knowing that you will wear my handcrafted jewelry is enough for me.”
“No, that won’t be necessary; whatever it is I fancy, you’ll be paid for it. We do not need special treatment.”
She nods rapidly; it's like you can see the sparkle in her eyes as she watches you look around. A ring with a deep purple crystal catches your attention. It's almost as if the crystal is open and there are smaller pieces in it.
You look at your husband and then at the woman for confirmation before reaching to try on the ring. Just to spite him, you take off your wedding ring to try on the new ring. Although the ring is just a tad bit bigger on your finger, you think you can make it work.
You hold up your ring finger at him. “This one is pretty, don't you think?”
He nods before clasping his hands behind his back. “It looks lovely on you,” He says, but then raises an eyebrow at his ring being in your other hand. “I would like….” You're about to say that you would like to buy this one, but you realize that you don't have any money on you. Before you can put the ring back down, your husband is already stepping in. “There's no need for that. Whatever you want, you shall have. I will make sure that everyone is paid accordingly.” This time he turns to the woman to speak. “My guards will give you a paper. Please write your name down and your address so your payment can be delivered.”
You slightly bow your head to the lady and walk away with a grin on your face. Let's see if your husband truly means whatever you want, you can get.
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You only meant to get a few more things just to spite him, but you truly didn't expect him to take the ones you lightly touched, too. Maybe he knows you're playing a game just to spite him. He's your husband, and after all you've endured in the short time you've been his wife, the least he can do is provide you with jewels and diamonds.
So far, his—your people are positively surprised to see you. Most people are feeling happy, curious, or even anxious to meet you. You haven't felt the more negative emotions, even as you placed a gentle hand on a few of the vendors from whom you bought things. Sure, you've heard a few snarky comments such as “Her chest isn't even as big as the last wife how can she possibly please him”
Or even “They look like polar opposites. I don't think they are a good match”
But these are normal enough thoughts, and most of them, if not all, came from a few women of the town. As you're pulled out of your thoughts, you realize that you aren't holding your husband's hand, even though he's walking behind just a few feet away from you. Without even walking in his direction, you grab his hand and walk the rest of the way back to the carriage when a necklace catches your eye.
This one will be your last buy, you say to yourself as you happily pick it up. You reach behind to remove your current necklace when you're stopped. “Let me do the honors, wife.” You watch him through narrow eyes as he steps behind you and takes off the necklace. You can feel goosebumps rising on your body with a mere touch of his fingertips; you curse your body for being so responsive to him. You've only spent one night together; this makes no sense.
You help him by moving your curls over to the side and handing him the necklace in your other hand. When he's done placing it on your neck, his hands rest on your shoulders before sliding down to touch the edges of the necklace, which stays directly on top of the swell of your breasts. “This looks wonderful on you; it even matches the color of your eyes.” He whispers into your ear. You turn your head away from him, reeling, because that's the exact reason why you picked it in the first place. Annoyingly, you look at yourself in the mirror, trying to keep your eyes trained on your neck and not the towering man behind you.
You're about to reach behind and unclasp the necklace on your own when you watch him lean down and whisper into your ear. “And don’t think I didn’t notice my ring is no longer on your finger. Fix. It. Wife.”
“I don’t think the woman I brought it from would really like that-” You pause and gasp mockingly, peering up at him through your lashes. “And what would the townspeople think? I can’t possibly disrespect her.” You say as quietly as you can, but as you remember the ruse that you’re supposed to be putting on, you realize that your actions might go against that. Without thinking too much about it, you give him a gentle smile and caress his face. His jaw clenches, and you turn your face towards the owner of the booth. “We’ll be taking this one, thank you!”
Finally, after shopping all day, you both begin your journey back towards the carriage. Occasionally, you send smiles and give hugs to any little children who may run up to you. You’re no less than 3 streets away when you feel someone's negative emotions from a distance.
Granted, of course, just because you can feel someone’s emotions doesn’t mean they are meant for you. And since you aren’t touching them, there’s no way for you to know exactly what they are feeling. Quietly, you reach over and grab your husband’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. You pretend not to notice when he keeps his eyes trained on you despite walking forward. Without saying anything, he raises your joined hands and places a kiss on your knuckles.
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5 days have passed since you got to see your new people. Although you felt the hatred from some distance away, nothing strange had happened, nor were there any more attacks on your life for the time being, at least. That didn’t stop your husband, O’Hara, from keeping his word with you, staying by your side every minute of the day. Just like he insists that you share a bed with him every night as well. This is starting to get tiring already, and you haven't even been doing this for a month yet. You would truly be a fool if you think that the attackers have neglected their attempts at taking your life. You smooth out your dress in hopes of calming yourself down.
You have to speak to his—your court today yet again. The last time you spoke to them didn’t go that great, but you are their Queen whether they like it or not. This dress is once again crimson red; this time it's a loose dress that slightly highlights your curves. Your curls are in a high updo today; a few of them remain down, hanging loosely to frame your face. Subtly, you take a deep breath before giving your husband the heads-up that you’re ready.
As soon as the doors open, the room quiets down, and the men begin to rise. You both give them a slight nod of acknowledgment before making your way to your seats. But as you look, just like last time, there's only one available. So this means you have no other choice but to sit on his lap again.
You make a mental note to talk to him about this. You understand that it's within his kingdom's culture; however, do you truly have to sit on his lap every single time? When he sits down, he gives you a wide smile, but you truly know it's filled with cockiness rather than a lovely smile from a freshly wed man. He then pats his thighs for extra measure; God, this man.
‘It's only for appearances’
‘It's only for appearances, ’ you repeat multiple times in your head.
You place your bottom firmly on his lap, adding in a big smile that's filled with disdain and a graze of his chest with your hand. You drag it down until it stops right above his pants. Then you look forward as if everything is normal and peachy fine.
•°~°•
The meeting goes on as usual; the men talk amongst themselves as you absorb all the information that you possibly can because you still have so much to learn. The meeting has been going on for almost an hour, and your legs are starting to get tired. You shift a little bit, hoping to relieve one of your legs, but just as you're about to do the other leg for feel hands grabbing your hips in a punishing grip.
It's so unexpected that you let out a small sound of surprise. You hoped to go unnoticed, but every set of eyes landed on you. Instantly, your cheeks heat up, and you add this to the list of things you have to curse about to this husband of yours. You murmur a quick apology and urge them to resume the meeting.
You're about to give him the death glare of a lifetime when you feel his breath on your neck. “If you don't want this meeting to be cut short, I'd advise you to stop moving.” You think about listening, but then again, why would you? As undetectably as you possibly can, you shift your hips again. This time, pressing your torso into his chest. Since there are fewer skirts to your dress today, unfortunately for you, you feel the exact moment when his dick starts to grow hard. It only lasts for a matter of seconds before you're fully sitting on top of his hard arousal.
Although this feels like a victory that you got under his skin with just a twist of your hips, you can't help but think that this is a punishment for both of you. The grip on your hips returns, even tighter than before, but this time he drags his hand upward from your waist to just below your breasts. He repeats the movement over your stomach countless times. So much so that it is almost hard to focus, and each time that he drags his hands up, it feels like he goes even higher. Causing your breasts to lift slightly with each movement of his hands.
You hate to admit it, but you regret ever provoking him. As you look around the room with the straightest face possible, you can't help but notice the 3 men who are bold enough to have their eyes trained on your breasts each time that it bounces on your chest. If your husband is aware of the lingering stares, he doesn't let it be known.
Having had enough of his torment, you place your hands over his and drag them down your legs. This causes him to shift his hips as his body moves forward. Oh gods, by the look on the faces of the men in front of you, it clearly looks as if he now has his hands underneath your dress, even though it's resting on your knees.
A few throats clear as the men shift uneasily. “Your Majesties, it's very great to see the two of you getting on well,” one of the men with an orange beard speaks up.
“Yes, it is indeed. Forgive me, we just can't get enough of each other. If this room were empty, I'm pretty sure she would have her way with me.” Your head snaps in his direction, but you quickly mask it. You reach up and place a hand on his chin, making sure to give him a pinch that will hurt before speaking. “Oh hush, you did tell me that you like it when I do that one move. If I recall correctly, you keep urging me to do it again”
The tic in his jaw gives him away clearly. Your words have affected him, but as he opens his mouth to speak, another man beats him to it. “There's no doubt that our idea to bring back a past tradition is clearly working in your favor. What if we bring back one more?” Although the question is directed at you and your husband, he speaks to the rest of the Court.
His words put a stop to both of you. Bring back one more? What other traditions could they possibly bring back now?
Your husband decides to speak. “Hmmm, Theodore, what tradition do you have in mind?”
“How about one of the parties that your parents and the ancestors before them used to throw. The one where Your Majesty picks couples from the village to engage in marital activities in the same room with?” As soon as the words leave his lips, you feel your blood run cold. Didn't you just mention to yourself that you would hate to ever partake in a party like that?
Oh my gosh, what have you done?
Your husband is slow to answer. It appears that he's choosing his next words wisely. “Oh, I'm sure that will be lovely. Let's see if the Queen would be up for it? You can feel all of the attention on you again, and you hate it just the same.
“I would love to anytime I get to spend intimate time with your King is a win.” You're so angry you don't even know what to do with yourself. If you were to deny this party, it would look weird, and it would go against the ruse that you and your husband are playing at.
“And will Your Majesties be spending the whole party together or will you decide to venture off and find new partners?” A new voice decides to speak up now. You're not sure that you've heard this person speak at all. As you study the man's features, you realize that he is one of the men who was there on your wedding night. He also seems to be one of the youngest men here.
You're about to open your mouth to speak because over your dead body are you going to sleep with another man who isn't your current husband. Granted, you loathe the idea of sleeping with him as well, but you'd rather him over some random man from the village.
Your husband, however, speaks before you get the chance to. He hands snakes around your stomach, pulling you flush against his chest. This time you can hear the anger in his voice. “You dare ask your king if he's going to share his wife? She's. My. Wife. The only person who will touch her in such a way will be me—and only me.”
The young man raises his hands up in defense. “My lord, I promise you I meant no offense; it's just I've heard from my father that your parents didn't mind finding new partners, so I just assumed it would be the same-”
“Well, it's not. There will be no sharing, just me and my wife. I'd better not get asked this again, and on that note, we will be retiring for the evening.” He barely even has a chance to finish getting the words out, and you're already making your way to the doors.
As soon as you're in the halls, you turn around to face him.
You speak through gritted teeth as you look over your shoulder at him. “You insolent fool, look what you've done.” You want to do nothing but yell at him, but you can't when the rest of the court is just a few feet away in the room. You are grateful, however, that there is no one in the halls.
If your shoes would allow you, you would've been running to your room by now, eager to get away from him.
“Look at what I've done? This is your fault. If you hadn't provoked me, none of this would have happened”
This time you turn to fully face him. “So you mean to tell me that you're such a foolish man that you can't control yourself? I might've well have been bouncing on your cock with the way you kept moving my body”
He lets out a scoff. “I barely even touched you; all I did was run my hands up and down your stomach, which hardly signifies you riding-” You cut him off with a push of his chest, getting close in his personal space. “Did you forget that your movements caused my breasts to move too, or are you just playing dumb? If you think for one second that I am going to sleep-” The sound of the door opening draws your words to a halt. You cannot let the court know that you've been arguing. Your eyes widen slightly, and so does his, knowing that you both have a show to put on; you fist his jacket, pulling him in closer. He then walks you backwards to a nearby wall and grabs your right leg behind the knee, hiking up your leg.
Your dress is loose enough that the material glides down your leg, nearly exposing the whole thing. In order to conceal what's really going on, he angles his upper body so that it looks like the two of you are engaged in a heated kiss. After all, you did rushed out of the meeting giving them the intentions that y'all will spend the evening getting to know each other rather…intimately.
With this angle the two of you are so close you're breathing in each other's air. Your chests heave in unison as you both stare into each other's eyes waiting for the court to leave the hallway. His eyes flicker from your lips back up to your eyes again and somehow that angers you. You snake your hand from his jacket to his neck and you squeeze—tight.
Making sure to keep your voice low you say “And if you ever do that again I won't hesitate to put a knife at your throat.”
Someone at the other end of the hall lets out a low whistle. “Don't let us interrupt you your majesties we were just leaving” Your husband turns to face them and give them a cocky grin causing you to squeeze his neck again even harder.
He lets out a choked laugh. “You all will get enough of that at the party. Now if you'll excuse us” he lets down your leg and walks you to your shared room with a hand on your lower back.
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As soon as Miguel makes it to his room, he watches as you begin to forcefully remove the crown from your head, as well as the mini jewels that are etched into your curls on the bed, before grabbing your nightgown and slamming the bathroom door. Feeling the slight anger thrumming in his own veins, Miguel takes off his crown and his jacket before sitting on a chair on the opposite side of the room. Despite what you may think, he did not plan on giving his court the idea of throwing one of those orgy parties from hundreds of years ago. Truthfully, he's surprised his parents even took part in such traditions; when they were alive, they seemed so…uptight and strict.
Without dwelling on it anymore that he needs to Miguel runs his hands down his face. What the hell is he going to do? Despite what his court may think or say, he will not let you sleep with him in front of an audience again.
You signed up to be his wife, his Queen.
And he will not continue to be intimate with his wife in front of an audience. An audience that you don’t want. Mark his words: the next time you both decide to sleep together, it will be because you both want it, not for the sake of appearances or for his court. Letting out a deep breath, he loosens the strings around his neck. All this thinking is not doing well for him, damnit.
He still hasn't even recovered from the show ya’ll put on just a few minutes ago. He’s only slept with you once, and that's not enough; he’s had a taste of you, and he craves to have you again. Knowing that you will be his wife till the end of time makes it even worse; he will get to have you again and again until you both can’t get enough.
But it won’t be anytime soon.
So for right now, his hand will have to do.
As his length hardens in his pants to the point where it becomes painful. Straining his ears, he catches and makes note that the shower is running. Great, this gives him a bit of time not a long time, but just enough. He unbuttons his pants and loosens them just enough to free his cock. Immediately, he takes himself in his hand, a bead of precum already leaking at the tip. He squeezes himself tight and begins to stroke himself fast.
He thinks about the way you felt sitting upon his lap today with the wonderful dress that highlighted every part of your glorious curves. He thinks about the way you shifted against him as if it was on purpose, but he knows it wasn't. He's pretty sure your legs had fallen asleep, and it's what caused him to put on a show in front of his court.
Miguel thinks about being pressed up against you in the hallway. Noting the way your chest rose and fell with every breath that you took. The swell of your breasts in your gown and even the slight bounce they gave when he was rubbing his hands up and down your stomach.
“F-Fuck me, she’s so perfect,” He breathes out, biting his lip in order to conceal his moans. His strokes become rough and fast. His mind also drifts back to when you essentially choked him in the hallway, your hands gripping his throat, and at one point he couldn’t breathe, but the idea of you controlling his will to breathe excites him. He’ll have to ask you to do that again whenever the opportunity arises.
Without dwelling on it, Miguel takes his free hand and drags it up to his neck. Although it doesn’t feel the same, this will have to do for now. From the pressure on his neck to his head, consumed with thoughts of you, he's going to spend his load in a matter of seconds. Letting out a string of groans, he slowly removed his hand from his neck to squeeze his bottom shaft. His other hand gave fast strokes on his tip.
Biting down as hard as he can on his lips, he orgasms with his hips lifting off the chair and his cum landing on his pants and hands.
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You're waiting by the door, unsure of what to do and say. You're positive that your husband is jerking off out there, but all you really want to do is get out of this hot, steam-filled bathroom and lie down in bed. Although the meeting lasted for some time, it is still early in the evening. You both hadn't even had dinner yet. But truthfully, you should be able to get dinner delivered to your room just for tonight since you guys are supposed to be fucking like rabbits right now.
You roll your eyes at the idea, but then your mind isn't focusing on your inner monologue; it's focusing on the sounds that your husband is making right outside this door. By the sounds of it, he's about to cum. Now you've heard this man cum before, but this time it's different. There's no audience and no expectations, just him and his thoughts and these 4 walls.
Finally he cums, and you almost find yourself pushing up against the door as if to get a better advantage.
But that would be weird, right….? Because of course, why on earth would you want to hear that infuriating man orgasm? Why on earth would you want to know if it was your name that he called when he came?
To shake yourself off, you splash cold water into your face and count to 10 before opening the door. Hopefully he was not doing it in the middle of your bed.
•°~°•
Opening the door, you make a beeline for your closet, making sure not to pay him any attention in the slightest so he won't know that you've just stood there for the past 3 minutes listening to him jerk it. You're putting away the crowns and jewels that you threw on the bed when he opens his mouth to speak.
“I was thinking for the party we could just pretend to have sex; no one should be watching us closely enough to know the difference.” You turn to face him, but his back is fully covered by the chair he's sitting in; all you can see is the top of his head. “Are you sure that would work? There are only so many positions we can do”
“We'll be on the throne overlooking the crowd: our court will be there, and the people we hand-pick from the villages.” He stopped for a second as if he was thinking about what was going to come out of his mouth.
“You can pretend to ride….me?” He says with a question.
Oh, he has some nerve. Is he really planning on taking today's little show even further? The calm shower that you just took is now long forgotten as you fight the urge to throw this crown at his head. “Before you say anything, that's the position that truly offers us the ability to fake having sex; your face is not to the crowd. All we have to do is…well, you know”
You count to five, taking deep breaths as you walk to the bed. You can't even lie, but he has a point. “I think I could make it work since this time I would be doing all the work”
His head turns in your direction. “Oh, don't worry, I'll be able to help you out with that”
You roll your eyes at his words and climb into bed. You're not necessarily sleepy; you just want to rest. You grab your book from the nightstand and begin to read.
“I really don't care, but that sounds good enough for me. Oh, and one more thing: next time you decide to jerk off with me a few feet away to make sure you keep it down, I really didn't need to hear-” He tried to cut you off, but you stopped him. “And please send dinner up when the time comes”
Thankfully, he doesn't open his mouth again, but as you focus your attention on your book, you can't even pay attention because now you have to prepare to “fuck” your husband yet again for the sake of the Kingdom.
