#king george iii x reader

[ghostfacd]

THE KING AND HIS QUEEN, — king george iii

pairing: king george iii x fem!queen!reader

summary: your new life of being queen has been quite a struggle adjusting to. thankfully, you have the perfect king to stand right by your side.

genre: royal!au, fluff, mentions of arranged marriage, reader said to be a princess from france but ethnicity is not specified, plot kind of differs from queen charlotte: a bridgeton story, talk of wanting children

author’s note: the plot is different from that of the netflix series so don’t come at me ! wanted to write for george because his character is very intriguing to me and also bc the actor for young george is so mighty fine 😋😋 enjoy!

“Are you alright?” The king asked you. His face examined yours, locking his eyes onto your frame.

“Yes my king,” you say, staring down at your plate with a forced smile. In all truths, you were not alright. You had just wedded the week before, and the life of a queen was taking much more of a toll on you than you’d expect.

You remembered like it was just yesterday. Well, technically, it was. It was barely a week ago.

“Will Her Royal Highness, Princess of France, take His Majesty, The King as husband, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part; according to God's holy law?”

“I, Princess of France, in the presence of God make this vow, from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law.”

“Very well, you may kiss the bride.”

And just like that, you were proclaimed Queen of Great Britain and Ireland.

“You’re spacing out,” George inquires, face filled with concern. You almost wonder why he cares. The two of you were not inlove. The marriage had been an arranged deal between your father and his since the day you were both born. Your fate had been sealed as soon as you came out your mother’s womb.

“Leave us.” He motions to the guards standing. They obey him like robots, leaving at his command. Now, it was just the two of you alone.

“YN,” for the first time since the two of you met, he had said your first name. No ‘my queen’ but just YN.

“Yes, my king?”

“Please, just George.”

You sigh, finally deciding to look him in the eyes. “Very well. George?”

“You know you can always tell me what is wrong, right?” He looks almost saddened. Or was it pity? You didn’t know him very well—the two of you rarely communicating since the marriage had been finalized.

“Of course my king,”

“George.” He corrects.

“Apologies, it was out of habit.”

He stands up, motioning you to come over to him. With raised eyebrows, you do as he wants, your long gown flowing onto the marble floor beautifully.

“Come with me,” he says, taking your hands into his. “To our chambers.��

You flush up at the feeling of George’s hands holding yours. You hadn’t had a boyfriend before marrying him, your father being very keen on keeping yourself innocent and pure for the King of Great Britain.

When you two arrive at the large tall entrance of the chamber, George waves off the two guards standing in front.

“Marital duties?” One of the dukes asked. “Great job Georgie, knew you had it in ‘ya.”

The King rolls his eyes at this, though he makes sure the duke hadn’t caught it. When you’re both inside the chamber, George finally lets out a breath of relief, situating himself onto the large mattress.

It was even larger than yours back at your palace in France. It was meant for the King and Queen, you and George, to sleep in at night and perform your marital duties.

“Sit, please.” George says, patting the empty space next to him. You sit down awkwardly, not sure where to look.

“Listen, I know it’s hard,” George lifts up your chin with his finger. “Adjusting to your life as my queen. The Queen of Great Britain and Ireland. But I assure you, as long as I live, I will make sure nobody will ever lay their hands on you or our future children, and that I will provide you with my love and support as I do with our country.”

Your eyes softened at his mini speech towards you, and your heart fluttered with joy. You were scared the two of you would end up in a loveless marriage like your Father and Mother had been—only together to provide the next heir of France. The heir ended up being your brother, your parent’s firstborn, King Charles of France. Second in throne was your other brother, Prince Louis, the spare. The only reason your parents had you was because your father had wanted a daughter to spoil, not because they were “inlove”. God no.

“Thank you my king. I appreciate this greatly, you have no idea. The stress of being Queen has taken quite the toll on me, and I was afraid of confiding in you about my worries.”

“You have no reason to be afraid,” George takes your hand, placing a soft kiss on it. “You are my wife, and I am your husband. You should never be afraid to confide in me. We promised that only death can do us part, and that we will love each other in sickness and suffering.”

“You are right my king,” you say, placing a peck on his cheek. For the first time, you were making a move, not him.

The two of you stay in each other’s embrace for the next hour, a comfortable and comforting silence fulfilling you both.

For the first time since you’ve step foot into Britain, you felt safe and loved. Loved by the King himself.

“You mentioned protecting me and our future children?” You tease him as you pull away. He bashfully looks down, letting out a small embarrassed laugh.

“Yes, my queen. The future heir, our lineage.”

“I hope it’s a boy,” you blurt out. You wanted your firstborn to be a boy because you’ve always seen your big brothers as a clear example of well raised princes, and you wanted the same for your future children.

“A boy would be ideal,” George says, pulling you close to him, “but I wouldn’t mind a girl. Spoil her rotten and braid her hair.”

You laugh, nodding along with George’s words. “I suppose a girl wouldn’t be so bad. As long as our future baby will be healthy.”

“Yes.”

The next few hours are spent with you and George mapping out the future, forgetting all your responsibilities for just the moment. George wanted Edward for a boy and Marionette for a girl, Nette for short. He expressed to you how he always dreamed of a normal life, farming and doing astronomy. However, he was grateful for growing up in royalty, never surrounded by poverty.

And just like that, the night you and George connected had flew by and you were expecting your second child in a few weeks time.

“Edward!” You say, giggling at the boy running around your legs. Edward was five, and quite the rowdy one. He took after his father’s handsomeness and had the eyes of George, the same ones that had looked at you with concern 6 years prior on that fateful night.

“Mummy!” Edward shrieks in delight. His eyes brighten when he sees his Father, who picks him up in an instant.

“I hope you’re not giving mummy a hard time,” George says, booping the young prince’s nose. “Are you, Prince Edward of Wales?”

“Course not daddy!” Edward scrambles to be let down on the ground, making George grunt as he sets the boy down. “Just wanted to hang out with mummy, that’s all.”

“Yes, my handsome little prince was doing no harm dear,” you reassure your husband. He rubs your baby bump softly, admiring your beauty.

“Just worried about you and Marionette is all,” he says with a soft smile.

“Me and Nette are fine,” you say, “now Edward, would you like me to tell you the day I became Queen?”

“Yes mummy!” Edward grins excitedly.

George can’t help but admire his little family as you told the story to your son Edward, brushing small strands of his brunette hair out of his face. In a few weeks, little Marionette will be arriving, and he couldn’t wait.

He wouldn’t trade what he had now for anything, not even for the whole wide world.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Marital acts

Pairing- breeding!kink King George x Reader

Summary - no plot just breeding.

Warnings- NSWF sexual intercourse, fingering, female receiving oral, breeding kink. (18+)

A/n- reposting because the tags won’t work. Fingers crossed!! Request for @siriusblacklftv

You’d been married for three weeks now, marital acts had been had twice. You had started to notice the signs of arousal that George had spoken about, the way your heart picked up when you noticed him without a shirt.

The way your undergarments seemed to moisten when his arms would tense as he racked up the flower beds, you could not deny the feeling any longer.

“Brimsley!” You shouted; even though you knew he was but five paces behind you. Your forehead pressed against the glass as you watched your husband, your king, in the garden.

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Take me outside” “yes, your majesty”

You turned on your feet and began to walk towards the doors, the doormen pulled the oversized doors open for you. The cool English breeze hit you in the face, only confirming your arousal even more. Your body felt hot and sticky underneath the abundance of layers.

“Shoo with that umbrella” you ordered, waving your hand in the air. You didn’t want to be followed around with the stupid thing, if you needed it. You would hold it.

Your feet took you towards George, he did not notice you at first. Focused on the activity in front of him, mud covered his trousers, sweat glistened over his upper body.

Your mouth felt dry, unable to announce your own arrival. Brimsley seemed to understand the fluster you were in and stepped around you, standing as tall as he could.

“Your Majesty, the queen”

George still did not turn around, as though the words went over the top of him. Stomping your foot on the ground you began to walk towards him, your shoe meets the mud with a squelch.

“Your majesty!” Brimsley all but yelped, reaching out to grasp you. Your foot seemed to have sunk beneath the mud, the bottom of your dress sinking with you.

“Y!N!”

This time George noticed you, his arms cradled you as he pulled you from the mud. Your shoe was left behind as he checked you over. “Oh George, it is just mud!” You smiled up at him, his lips quirk up as he grins at you.

“Why are you out in the garden my love? You should be inside out of the sun” he whispers, his fingers trace up and down the length of your arm.

You chew on the inside of your mouth, looking behind you at Brimsley and the footmen. “Some privacy” George ordered when he noticed the look on your face, the men stepped away just enough so they could not hear the words spoken.

“I seem to have a feeling within myself” you whispered, dropping your eyes down to your stomach and back up to him. “It seems to be the arousal you had spoken of”.

“Oh.. oh!” George smirked, his arm held your waist and he pulled you closer. “Are your undergarments wet my love?”.

“I believe so”

“We are to go inside at once!” George ordered again, he was walking you back towards the door. Practically carrying you as your much smaller legs tried to keep up with his long strides.

Once you were within the castle walls, his lips were on yours. Hunger bubbled in his chest as he slid his tongue within your mouth, relishing the taste of you.

“George! The guards!” You exclaimed, he shook his head and picked you up bridal style. His legs carried you towards your bed chambers, letting the doors slam behind the two of you.

He dropped you onto the bed, gripping the back of your head and pressing his lips to yours once again. Your skin was hot, itching to get out of the confinements of your dress. “Come here” he ordered, he turned you around and ran his finger across your exposed shoulder.

He began to pull at the corset, until your breasts fell out. His hands reached around to grasp them, his mouth on your neck. “Oh George” you cried out, your stomach filled with butterflies.

“So beautiful my love… these breasts will be so full once I have planted my seed within you”. George groaned, his hips thrust into your backside.

He had uttered those words before but it seemed more real this time, his hands kneading the flesh of your chest. His hands fell and continued to pull your dress down, leaving you in your undergarments.

He spun you back around and pushed you against the bed, hands gripping the waistband of your bloomers. “You’ve soaked through my love” he whispered, he was on his knees in front of you.

Kissing along the exposed flesh of your leg until his face met your mound, breathing in the scent of your arousal. With one swift movement you were bare in front of him, undergarments thrown under the bed.

“So beautiful” he mumbles, pressing his lips to your cunt. You all but cry out, so sensitive to his touch. He has only touched you two times, the feeling of his lips to your skin was still unfamiliar to you.

“Your majesty!” You cried out when his tongue circled your puffy clit, his fingers curled around your thighs pulling you against his face. “Just George”.

You let out a giggle which was replaced with a moan as his fingers entered you, still very unfamiliar with the feeling of intrusion. He began to slip his long fingers in and out of you, your arousal coating him.

“I want to fill this pretty little cunt with my seed… fuck you hard until you are with child, I can’t wait to see the swell of your belly as I make love to you” he states, pulling himself away from your cunt.

He stands up and pulls his trousers down, his cock stands tall. It’s tip red and throbbing, begging to be inside of you. Your fingers wrap around his shaft, give him soft pulls until he is crawling above you.

Your legs parted for him eagerly, both your eyes fell to the area you are to connect. He holds his cock and presses it to your hole, pushing in slowly.

You felt full, your pussy pulsating around him. It was much easier this time round, your arousal giving you a lot of help. His hips began to rock, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“You're so tight… I want to stay inside of you forever” he groans, his head pressed into your neck as he thrusted into you. You wrap your arms around him, nails scratching his skin. “Please George, I would love nothing more than for you to stay inside of me”.

“Going to make love to you until your cunt is weeping, begging me to stop. Going to to abuse it until my seed seeps out of you”

His words seemed to cause a flutter within your stomach, clenching around him as he drove himself into you. “Please George! Fill me with your seed!” You beg, tears form within your eyes from the relentless thrusts.

He pulls out of you, moving himself up to the head board. “Get on”. You're crawling up to him and sinking back down on his cock, he takes your nipple within his mouth and sucks. “These breasts are but mine until we are blessed with children, I will then share them but then they are mine once they are old enough”.

You hold onto him around his neck once more, moving your hips in slow circles. Your clit rubs against the skin on his stomach, sending shock waves through your body.

“I have that feeling George… I feel pressure” you exclaim, squeezing your eyes shut as you bounce above him. His lips leave your breast and he stares up at you.

“You will feel the most amazing pleasure soon my love, milk me dry. We are to get you pregnant tonight”.

He grips onto your hips and helps you move, watching as your face screws up tightly. Your orgasm is but seconds away from invading your senses. “George!” You cry out, he grunts from beneath you as your head falls back and you cum around him.

You moans can be heard within the castle walls, footmen side eye one another.

“George! George!”

“That’s it my love, let that pleasure take over. I can feel your sucking me dry!”

Your body shakes above him, ears ringing and toes curling. George is seconds behind you, shooting his cum deep within your walls. “Do not stop George! Plant your seed within me, make me with child!”

“I will plant my seed deep inside of you, you will carry our child within a few weeks!” He grunts under you, milked dry from your swollen cunt.

“Wow!” You exclaim, relaxing around him. He stares up at you with tender eyes, placing his hand upon your stomach. “I do hope you will be with child”.

“Me too George, me too”.

[neo-novaa]

marital duties

synopsis: king george x reader, loosely based on this ask,

the sun was burning against your back, the only cold solace being from the wet dirt that riddled your hands.

“you’ve got to be careful pulling that one out,” george— farmer george says to you. it’s a carrot, you’ve grown to recognize them by their leaves. “reach deeper into the ground. if you pull it from the leaves, they’ll rip.

you nod, digging your hands into the dirt, but not before you hear george inhale sharply. you turn, worried, finding his lips in a stern line and his brows furrowed.

“what is it?” you ask, interest peaked.

“you’re still not doing it right.”

you scoff, releiving your hands of the moist soil, and unceremoniously brushing them against your silk dress. it was far beoynd saving, sticky with sweat, stained with soil, the wonderful pastels now tainted with shades of brown.

“i’m reaching into the dirt.” you retaliate, flicking away the dirt from under your nails. 

it’s his turn to scoff. “barely. you didn’t even get your palms in there.”

wiping the last chunk of mud away from your hands, you turn to him with an unapproving glare. “fine then, i’ll dig deeper.”

you dive in, wrist deep—

“no, now you’ve gone past the root entirely.” he scolds, shuffling over to the carrot you’ve been spending far too much time trying to pick out. 

“let me show you,” georges hands envelop yours, his soft palms a sudden reminder of this very temporary escape. 

only an hour, that’s all the time you got in a day to pretend that this was your life; to pretend that he was nothing more than farmer george, and you were nothing more than his wife. 

“you have to say close to the stem,” he whispers, as if people are watching— as if this isn’t the only time in their entire lives where people weren’t watching. 

he gently curls your fingers so that the tips run down the slimy side of the vegetable, nearly reaching the bottom.

“now,” he’s impossibly close, his warm breath against your neck almost making you shudder. “pull!”

he fists your hands and tugs at the carrot with a comical amount of strength. so much so that it causes the two of you to fall over, hands enveloped in each other, grasping a muddy carrot.

“now do you understand?” he says through laughter, and you’re struggling to speak with how much you’re laughing with him. the backside of your dress is now caked in a layer of mulch and dirt. if it was able to be fixed a minute ago, it was far past salvageable now. 

“i think i understand.” you finally say through an onslaught of giggles, sitting up once his hands leave yours.

they’re quick to find you again, gently covering your bare shoulders, shielding you from the blazing heat for almost a moment.

you meet his loving eyes scanning your face, taking in every detail as if he’d forget it– as if he’d let his mind do that to him.

one of his hands runs along the side of your face, grasping your chin. “you’ve no idea how beautiful you are.”

you can’t help but roll your eyes. you don’t need a mirror to guess your current state: hair a mess, face riddled with streaks of mud, stuck to your face from how much you’ve been sweating.

“george–” you barely get to say his name before he’s kissing you, dirtied hands finding your place along your jaw. you share the sentiment, your own hands caked in soil are muddying his hair, pulling him closer to you. 

his hands find your waist, pulling you on top of him. they wander up to your chest, down to your hips, and settle on your thighs.

you pull away, gasping, lungs aching from the lack of air. georges breath are matching yours: strong, heavy, wanting.

you’re about to go in again when you hear feet shuffling on gravel only a few feet away.

“brimsley.” you grumble.

“reynolds.” he mutters. 

your right-hand men borh bow deeply. “your majesties,” brimsley says, standing up with perfect posture. 

“yes, yes, i know,” you stand up, brushing off the layer of dried soil on your knees, as if it does anything to help. george doesn’t bother with the stains, almost as if he knows that any attempts to clean his farmer trousers would be futile.

“hours up.” you say with a disappointing sigh, and almost scream at the way that brimsley nods curtley.

“says who?” george is grabbing your wrist, catching your attention and reeling it back to him. “i am the king, and you, my queen. there is no one who can tell us what to do.”

“george?” you barely manage to say, standing blankly, fighting the urge to drop your jaw. 

“all i’m saying is…” he begins to pull you towards your home, not-so discreetly eyeing your chest. “we have other marital duties to attend…do we not?”

“george!” it’s more like a scorn this time, your gaze quickly darting over to brimsley and reynolds who, as if they were statues, have barely moved since they appeared. unlike him, you’re not used to sharing your thoughts around people.

“come on!” he’s tugging you onto the gravel path, and all you can do is roll your eyes and hike up your dress while running off to perform your… “marital duties.”

[draco-spencers-paramour]

request from anon:

“king george iii and reader with their young son”

little king

young king george iii x afab!reader

navigating life as new parents after welcoming your son george iv

warnings: fluff, suggestive smut (no actual smut)

you laid in bed with george in a blissful slumber before the cries of your newborn son awoke you. He could wake the entire castle with his screams as far as you were concerned. It had not even been 24 hours since you gave birth to him and you were already becoming a hands on mother even with the strong encouragement from your doctor to stay in bed.

You entered the nursery to see one of the maids already tending to him "Your majesty" she curtsied while holding George. You smiled "Thank you for the help Anna. I'll take it from here." you reached out for him "Oh well, it's only that you've only just given birth ma'am and the doctors have advised rest it's really no problem." she insisted. You shook your head "Nonsense, I assure you, this is my child. He is my responsibility now. Thank you for everything but please get some sleep Anna." you whispered softly.

She smiled back "Thank you your majesty." she handed baby George to you before she retired to her chamber. "Hello my darling." you cooed as the young boy continued wailing "Oh, it's okay baby." you reassured him as you cradled and bounced him gently in your arms. You wandered over to the large window of his room where the moons light spilled in through the panes. "Look at that Georgie. That's the moon. Almost as pretty as you." the newborn began to settle as he watched the moon for the first time with big eyes "Just like daddy aren't you?"

Back in your own room the king reached out to you in his sleepy state only to find you weren't in the bed which made him wake up abruptly. He wandered out of the room before hearing the faint sounds of your voice which he followed to the nursery. He leant on the doorframe in delight as he watched you talk sweetly to your son. Seeing you be a mum made him love you all the more. How tender and gentle you were, the way you nursed him. "Sweetheart." George called to you.

You turned towards him with a soft grin as he walked over to the window "Let me take him. You must sleep my love." he kissed your forehead encircling his arms around your own helping you rock baby George. “He’s magnificent isn’t he.” you whispered leaning your back on George’s chest. “Our little king.” he replied back. The small boy squirmed as you turned around placed him in his dad’s arms. “Daddy’s turn.” you said before kissing him on his little head. George gave a small chuckle before he kissed you “Let that pretty little head of yours dream, my dear. I’ll be in soon.” you nodded and went back to bed.

Getting under the covers, you attempted sleep once more which did not go to plan you were tossing and turning for at least an hour and found that you could not sleep without George present. And as if the heavens had read your mind he returned to your chamber “I thought you were sleeping darling, I’ve settled George.” you shook your head at him “Not without you here” he gave you his dazzling smile and got into the bed pulling you on top of him gently. “Better?” he asked. “Much” you sighed contentedly.

“Watching you mother little Georgie made me realise something.” George stroked your head. “and what’s that?” you laid your head on your hands as you stared at him. “I want as many babies with you as possible and I would like to start making them tomorrow.” he admitted.“George! I gave birth yesterday! I need to rest as tempting as your offer sounds.” You laughed wholeheartedly as he pouted and tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear whispering “You wouldn’t have to do anything. Just lay there and enjoy yourself, let me do all the work….let me make you feel good.”

You felt yourself become hot and bothered at his very vivid suggestion “We’ll talk about it tomorrow.” you leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose. George smirked before hugging you closely “Goodnight darling, I love you.” you nuzzled into him “Love you more.” you whispered as you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

my first ever king george request!! hope everyone likes it <3

please let me know if there is anything i need to change, if it does not feel inclusive to you as the reader. I always try to be as vague as possible in order for it to be inclusive to everyone. However Y/N is female in this fic. I’m very happy to write a non gender specific fic!

[muxshwriting]

the cold night arrives

King George iii x reader

summary: you wake to a cold bed and watch the sun rise as you search for your husband || warnings: mental illness, panic attacks || word count: 918 || masterlist

The bed is cold.

It's the first thing you notice; the bed is cold. You don't notice that the sun hasn't risen and that the world is not yet awake because the bed is cold and that means your world is awake.

There is a pounding in your chest that beats louder than your heartbeat as you throw the covers off yourself and ring for a maid. You're dressing yourself before they arrive, throwing a thicker gown over your nightdress as you venture into the hallway.

A maid, half asleep, comes rushing towards you. "Your Majesty-"

"Get me Brimsley and Reynolds, now." You didn't mean to sound so abrupt with her but the command slipped out so easily that you didn't give it much care. The maid scuttled off and you began your descent downstairs, your heart pounding in your chest, an ache you couldn't remedy.

Your breath grew unsteady as you paced the entrance hall, waiting for your right hand man. Perhaps George was simply in his conservatory, struck by some late night inspiration. He was fine, he didn't have to be- He wasn't-

An out of breath Brimsley emerged from a corridor, Reynold following close behind. You didn't give him a second before you were talking, "George has gone. He's not in his bed, I couldn't see a sign of him."

The two exchanged a glance that you couldn't decipher.

"I'll check the observatory." Reynolds said hurriedly. "And alert the groundmen."

Brimsley nodded to him, a soft look in his eyes as they exchanged something unspoken. He silently let you to a chair at the edge of the hall, watching how your leg bounced up and down in fear.

"Your Majesty-"

Your head snapped up, caught off guard by him speaking. !"What?"

"You need to breathe."

He was right. You hadn't noticed until that moment that you'd been holding your breath. The shakiness of your own breath surprised you as the insistent pounding in your head began to fade. Your lungs ached and your heart squeezed in your chest. You wanted to be held, held by George. But he wasn't here.

Where was he? Why wasn't he here? Where had he gone? Was he alright? What if something happened to him? What would you do? What would you do? What would-

"He's not in his observatory. " Reynolds had returned. "I've got men looking but there's no sign yet. "

The strength you had had in your body failed you. Your head fell forward into your hands, your fingers threading through your hair. Without effort, your breath picked up and your leg resumed it's bouncing.

"I want to be out there looking."

Brimsley blanched. "Your Majesty, I wouldn't recommend that. It's the middle of the night and you shouldn't be outside for too long."

"George is out there!" You cry. "My George is out there. And I will not rest until I find him."

You're on your feet in a second, marching towards the door with Brimsley and Reynolds following closely behind. The gravel crunches underfoot and the cold air bites into your skin, leaving your cheeks flushed.

A shout arises from a guard at the other side of the gardens and Reynolds wastes no time in running over. Brimsley remains by your side, one of the few moments he doesn’t remain five steps behind. It was like he could read your mind, knowing you needed that presence beside you so the world didn’t seem so alone, even for a moment.

The moment you set eyes on him, iIt was like all the fight in your body faded at once. He is safe, he’s alive, he’s alright. Albeit, he’s standing in his nightclothes with his feet in a fountain. But he’s alright.

He’s muttering under his breath, letting the water run over his feet and letting the nights sky fall over his head. But his eyes fall to meet yours and a smile creeps onto his face. His heaven is here and your world is here.

"My Y/N!" He cries out, wading through the water towards you.

"My George." Your heart is finally whole and beating at a reasonable pace. "Are you aware of the time of day?"

"Have you seen Venus?"

"I have my love, but it is rather a cold night."

"She is beautiful." He turns to you, reaching our for your hand. "You are beautiful."

He steps towards you and settles into your embrace. You let Reynolds wrap a jacket around George to warm him slightly. “It is night, George. I believe our nights are for our bedroom and your conservatory, not fountains and gardens, yes?”

George grins at the simple sound of your voice. “Of course.”

“Shall we return?”

He hums in response, spinning the pair of you slightly until you’re facing the ever changing sky. The colours are like a watercolour smeared across the horizon, lightening the air. “Look at it,” he whispers. “Nothing as beautiful as you but beautiful nonetheless.”

You can sense your George returning from his heavens and returning to the ground as he holds you closer.

“Perhaps we should head back to bed.” George pressed a kiss to your head. “This night has had much excitement.”

You smile softly at him, letting his hand fall into yours as he pulls you through the maze of gardens and back into the palace. The exhaustion is creeping into your bones with every step, as it is sinking through George. This was all you needed. It didn’t matter how many midnight searches you had to call for, this was worth all the panic and the worry. This peace was equal to nothing else.

[thebadgerclan]

My Venus

Pairing: King George III x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: You are his Venus...

It was nearly impossible to quell your panic when you received the summons.  If Princess Augusta called for you, it was seldom for a good reason, and you had no reason to believe she was summoning you for anything less than a scolding.  So, you were quite surprised when the Princess invited you into her sitting room, poured you tea, and offered you a scone.

“Lady Y/N,” she began.  “I have heard you are quite adept in the art of herbal remedies.  Is this true?”  You cocked your head.  “Indeed it is, Your Royal Highness.”  “How skilled would you say you are?  Akin to a licensed apothecary?”  You set your teacup down.  “Might I inquire as to why you are asking, ma’am?”  Augusta sighed, waving the servants out of the room.

“Very well, I shall be blunt.  My son, His Majesty, is not….he is not well.  I was hoping that perhaps you could be of assistance.”  You did your best to hide the shock on your face.  “Not well?  How so, ma’am?”  “That is not relevant,” the Princess snapped.  “Can you help him or not?”  The dowager clearly did not want to discuss the issue in depth, but how could you assist if you did not know what the issue was?

“As it stands, no, ma’am, I cannot.”  “Whyever not?”  “I do not know what ails His Majesty,” you explained.  “A sore throat is treated quite differently than a headache.  If I do not know what the problem is, then I cannot help.”  Princess Augusta sighed, pinching her brow.  “I am afraid I do not know how to describe the issue.”  “Then there is little I can do.  Unless I might speak to His Majesty…”  “Out of the question.”  You stood, folding your hands before you.  “Then I am afraid there is nothing I can do.  Good day, Your Highness.”

You were nearly to the door when she called out to you.  “Fine!  I will…speak to Georgie.”  Smiling, you dipped into a curtsey.  “Thank you, Your Royal Highness,” you said.  “I look forward to meeting His Majesty.”

***

A mere two days later, you were seen to King George III’s personal study.  “Presenting the Lady Y/N L/N!”  You dropped into a deep curtsey when you entered, waiting for the King to acknowledge you.  “Please,” the King said.  “Have a seat, my lady.”  You rose and did as you were bade.  “It is an honor, Your Majesty,” you said, folding your hands atop your lap to keep from fidgeting.  “I assume your royal mother has informed you as to why I am here?”

“Indeed she has,” the King said.  “Though I am afraid your time may be wasted.  Doctors from across the continent have tried and failed to cure me.”  You nodded, unused to seeing your sovereign in such a vulnerable state.  “Your Majesty, might you describe your troubles to me?  So I might ascertain how best to help?” Again, the King sighed.  “It is as if my mind separates from my body,” he began.  “I begin to tremble, usually in my hands, my speech becomes disorganized, my neck twitches.  I talk nonsense, you see, and there have been times…”  George paused, taking a few deep breaths.  “There have been times when I have eloped from the palace grounds.  Many times baring myself to the elements in the process.”

You only nodded.  “I see.  Is there anything that appears to precede an…episode?  Something that might trigger these bouts?”  The King nodded.  “Stressors seem to be the common thread.  Frankly, I believe it may be a way for my mind to escape uncomfortable situations.”  “It very well could be,” you agreed.  “I can concoct a syrup of lavender and chamomile that may help to calm you.  And..if I may ask something of Your Majesty?”

George nodded.  “Please, do.”  “If I could observe one of you…episodes, I may be able to see if there is anything further I can do.”  For a moment, the King thought, before nodding again.  “I can have my Man call for you.  Though I must warn you, it will not be pleasant to witness.”  “I care not if it is pleasant,” you replied.  “I care for Your Majesty’s wellness.”

The King had been anticipating this conversation to be a difficult one, something that might trigger a panic as soon as you left the room, but quite the opposite had happened.  George found your presence soothing and calming; the moment you began speaking, the tremor in his hands had ceased.  Perhaps you could aid him in more ways that he had thought.

*** Sure enough, Reynolds called for you when the King had his next episode.  It was jarring, to be sure.  He was nude in the gardens, calling for Venus to speak to him.  You had only heard stories of people acting in such manners, usually insane patients in asylums.  But not the King, never the King.  How was this the same man you had spoken to only a day ago?

Then, the King had turned his attention to you.  His eerie smile grew even wider, and he moved towards you in quick strides.  Reynolds had told you that the King was never violent during his episodes, but you still felt fear building in you.  “Y/N,” he said, reaching out for you.  “It is Y/N!”  Cautiously, you took a step forward.  “Yes, George, it is Y/N.  I am here.”

The King let out a gleeful laugh and threw himself into your arms.  “Y/N!  Oh, the beautiful Y/N!”  You wrapped your arms around him, supporting his weight.  “George, it is quite cool tonight,” you said.  “We ought to return indoors, don’t you think?  We could get you some lavender-chamomile tea to warm up?”

“Would you stay with me?” he asked, and you nodded.  “Of course, George.  Now come.”  To yours and Reynolds’ complete shock, the King followed you inside, letting himself be cleaned up and a cup of tea pressed into his hands.  As you were leaving, Reynolds pulled you aside.  “I have never seen him come out of it so fast,” he said.  “There is something about you.”

***

The following day, you were once more summoned to Princess Augusta.  “I heard what happened last night,” she said, though there was no accusation in her voice.  “What you did for my son has never happened.  Therefore, I want you to be his companion from now on.”  “Wh- Your Highness?”  “You calm him,” she went on.  “I am not suggesting it is a cure, but something about your presence soothes the King.  Therefore, I want you to be at his side.”

“I…it would be my pleasure, Your Royal Highness.”  “Indeed it will be,” she said, and with a wave of her hand, you were dismissed.  George was slightly hesitant about your new relationship, but he adjusted rather quickly.  You did indeed have a calming effect on him, and after a week, he saw you more as a friend than someone meant to keep him in check.

And soon after, the King felt his feelings growing further.  You were a rare beauty, you were kind, funny, demure, well read, and you defended him to those who questioned him.  George realized it late one night as he was pouring over his star charts: he had fallen in love with you.  Little did he know your feelings had blossomed in the same manner.  

The King was devastatingly handsome, but he was shockingly sweet too.  He was quick with a joke when the situation called for one, he was strong; in the physical sense as much as the emotional one.  He cared for his people, he genuinely cared, and he seemed to enjoy your company.  You had quickly become the King’s friend, but now, you knew that your heart was his, completely and irrevocably.

***

One afternoon, King George had asked you to accompany him to his observatory on the grounds of Kew palace.  Again, you were shocked by the King’s intelligence and the passion he had for astrology.  “There is little to see in the daylight,” he said, rummaging through stacks of parchment.  “But this…I wanted you to see this.”  

It was a drawing of a woman, a beautiful woman, and you looked at George quizzically.  “It is Venus,” he elaborated.  “The Roman goddess.  It is after her that the celestial body is named.”  “How lovely,” you said, unsure of what else you could say.  “She is the goddess of love and beauty, did you know that?”  “I did not.”

George reached out and took your hand.  “I must ask your forgiveness if I am too bold, but you are striking, Y/N.  Your beauty knows no bounds, your kindness and compassion is endless.  When I am in my fits, I speak of Venus.  Something about her soothes me, somehow brings me back.  But you, Y/N, you have become my Venus.  And I…I want you to be my Venus.”

His hands had begun to shake, and you took them in yours.  “George,” you said. “Are you asking me…”  “Might I call upon you?” he asked.  “Might I court you?  For I believe I have fallen in love, Y/N.  I need you, I need my Venus.”  You felt a smile take over your face, and you brought his hands to your lips, kissing them sweetly.  “Then you shall have your Venus.”

[rockerchick05]

𝗦𝗢𝗙𝗧 𝗟𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗖𝗛

Corey Mylchreest x reade𝗋

𝗳𝗹𝗼𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗴𝗵 , 𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗮_𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗼 𝟤𝟢 𝗄 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌

𝘆/𝗻.𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀

𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘆𝗺𝘆𝗹𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎

⇣𝘆/𝗻.𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 𝖿𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗈𝗋 😇

⇣ 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘆𝗺𝘆𝗹𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 ���𝗎𝖽𝖾 .

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖺

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍

⇣𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍𝗌 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗇 & 𝖽𝖾𝗆 !

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝖨𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝖤𝗅𝖻𝖺 𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗀𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗒 ¿

𝘆/𝗻.𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 , 𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗮_𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗼 𝟫𝟢𝟢 𝗄 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌

𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘆𝗺𝘆𝗹𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 , 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨

𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀

𝘆/𝗻.𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 🤍

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗁𝖾'𝗌 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝗅𝖺𝖽𝗂𝖾𝗌 😩

𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗮_𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗼 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 !

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗂'𝗆 𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗋

⇣𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝖿𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗒

𝗶𝗱𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒'𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗎𝗍𝖾

𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗮_𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗼 , 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘆𝗺𝘆𝗹𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝟣𝖬 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗌

𝘆/𝗻.𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘮𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦

𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘆𝗺𝘆𝗹𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀

⇣𝘆/𝗻.𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗆

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗆𝗒 𝗆𝖺𝗇

𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗒/𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍

𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗶𝗮_𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗼 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗏𝗈𝗀𝗎𝖾

⇣𝘆/𝗻.𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 𝗂𝖽𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗎𝗉🫣

⇣ 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘆𝗺𝘆𝗹𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗇𝗈

𝘆/𝗻.𝗲𝗹𝗯𝗮 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘆𝗺𝘆𝗹𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

[aphroditelovesu]

Can you write a love letter from yandere King George the third from Charlotte/Bridgeton please 💌❤️❤️❤️

My Beloved Queen,

Have your days been pleasant? Quiet? I feel guilty for not being as present as I would like and I ask you to forgive me for that. I had some... Problems, duties I need to take care of first.

I do not enjoy being away from the woman I love and I am so sorry for that. I promise I will reward you however your heart desires. And I ask that in your kind and warm heart you would be so kind to forgive me.

Not as your King, but as my wife.

I need to get well so that I can take better care of you so that I can protect you from all the evils in the world. And luckily as King, I have the power to do just that. You are everything to me, you know that? From the moment we met.

From the moment I knew my heart had become yours. I loved you the first moment you smiled at me, and in that very moment, I found there was no turning back and I did not want one either. I wanted you to become my wife, my Queen, but I wanted more than that.

I wanted your heart and your love, the same way you have mine.

Is that too much to ask? I am not sure, but I want all of you and I know there is no way that can happen if you do not have all of me. I intend to visit you soon and reveal the whole truth. It won't be easy and I know I can be rejected, but... I want, I need to tell you, I do not want there to be a secret between us and I promise you that you will understand everything that happened since our marriage.

I love you and will always love you. I want you to know that and that nothing you do or say is going to change that. I am yours until death do us apart. I will eagerly await your response and know that I am always thinking of you, my beautiful Queen.

Yours sincerely,

Your George.

[in-my-feels-probably]

alright y’all, i finally finished queen charlotte and i am DEVASTED…send me george requests, i need a distraction good lord

[savagemickey03]

Soooooooooo I’m not ashamed to say that now that Queen Charlotte is out that I now have another couple to obsess over 😫 SHONDA SIS YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DOING GIRL AND I APPLAUD YOU. Now that formalities are over ima need to be under them both because charlotte and George are fine asf with personalities 🤭 just what I like soooooooooo I’ll wait for the poly fics to roll in, shit I’ll read it if only one of them are in love with me 🤷🏾‍♀️

[ghostfacd]

WE DON’T HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT. — king george iii

— “I CAN WALK YOU HOME AND PRACTICE METHOD ACTING.”

pairing; king george iii x fem!queen!reader

summary; you and the king weren’t inlove. it was as simple as it sounds, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

genre; angst, crying, reader deserves better, mentions of sex but no smut, based on “cool about it” by boygenius

author’s note: this song makes me cry so of course i had to write an angst fic to cope 😭

When you and King George III got married, you knew the marriage was destined to fail.

It was a sensitive topic—you and the King’s marriage. You were still young; he was still young. You wanted to live your life and he wanted to live his. But both of your parents had other plans.

The two of you didn’t even know each other before the label was sealed and you two were pronounced husband and wife. During the first few months in the castle, you and George have grew not only distant, but greatly depressed.

It started off small, with you missing your castle, your bed, and your siblings. You were feeling homesick, and your own husband could not be there to comfort you. He had problems of his own.

He was quiet and calculating. The King rarely showed emotion, much less sleep in the same bed as you unless it was for the conceiving of the next heir.

The only time George had shown any care towards you was the birth of your first son, Prince William. You were in labor, and pain struck through your entire body. With shaking hands, your husband placed your hand in his, letting you squeeze it tightly for support.

When the cry of the new heir rang through the hospital walls, George cried. The King of Great Britain and Ireland had cried. He cradled the baby close to his chest, admiring his nose, small hands, and eyes.

For the first time, you and George had felt a connection. It wasn’t love, but rather, a mutual understanding that it was both your duties to serve this country, and by that, it meant that you had to keep your composures for your son.

“Oh Will,” you say as you hold your baby close to your chest one night. “My beautiful prince.”

George walks in a bit later when William is sound asleep. His eyes look tired, however, there’s a soft glow in them that seems to be reserved only for William. When you gently place your son down on his crib, George leans in to give the baby a kiss on the forehead, smoothing out his tiny tufts of hair.

Though the two of you don’t talk, George looks at you with a certain look on his face, one that you both silently understand. All of this is for William, the future King of Britain.

So when William had gone sick in the middle of a very cold January, the two of you were losing your minds. The boy was now four, very intelligent and well spoken for his age. He had gotten a terrible fever and was on his bed for the entire month.

Maids and servants would come in, changing the young prince’s sheets to keep him cool, put cold towels on his forehead, and feed him soup to make sure he got all his nutrients. He still wasn’t getting better.

“Will?” You say, opening up the door to his bedroom quietly. It made a small creak, alerting the now awake Prince.

“Yes mum?” His voice was hoarse, and it broke your heart.

“I came in with water, please drink it my darling,” you give your son the warm glass, helping him sit up to drink it.

You run your hands through his hair, rubbing his back softly. You prayed to God everyday that your boy would recover soon.

“Mum.” He says, looking up to meet your eyes. He had your eyes, but his face resembled that of his father, your husband, the King.

“Yes darling?”

“How come you and father never show love towards one another?”

The question caught you off guard, your eyes forming into a sense of panic. But you quickly cover it up, not wanting to worry your son.

“What do you mean Will?” You ask, running your fingers through his hair gently.

“I mean, sometimes when I look out the window, I see visitors outside Buckingham with their parents. They look so happy Mum, their parents look so happy with one another. But I never see you and Father smile at each other, or sit in the same table for dinner. Why Mum?”

You didn’t know how to explain to your son that his parents didn’t love each other and that the whole marriage and his own birth was simply for the next generation of royals.

“Your father and I are simply busy,” you say, making sure to be careful with your words, “he’s the king, he has a lot on his plate my dearest. But we both love you very much.”

“But you don’t love each other.” William whispers underneath his breath. You don’t catch it, which he is silently thankful for.

“Well, Mum has to go,” you say, standing up to adjust your gown. “Feel better my darling.”

You place a kiss on his forehead, and he closes his eyes, ready for another nap.

That night, you sit in the middle of your large bed, tears filling your eyes. The doctor had told you that you were with child, about 3 to 4 weeks. You of course didn’t tell anyone, not even George. Your emotions were all over the place, from your firstborn being extremely sick to this news of you being pregnant.

Your head looks up at the tall ceiling, which was covered in gold and decorated beautifully. Even though you were inside a glorious palace with servants left and right, you have never felt more alone.

A sob leaves your mouth as your breathing gets heavier. You knew it was stupid of you. A queen must always stay composed, but the news of you having another child absolutely wrecked your soul. Of course you loved your child, but it was going to grow up in a loveless home being only being known as the spare, important only if your firstborn were to pass away.

“YN?” A knock comes at your door, the voice of George coming from the other side.

George? You think. Why was he here?

You quickly wipe away your tears, walking up to open the large doors. George’s eyes meet your bloodshot ones, and for a moment, they softened.

“What is wrong my queen?”

That was the only thing it took for you to lose it completely, falling into his arms with sobs wrecking every part of your body.

“Hey hey hey,” George coaxes as he carries the two of you onto your bed, placing you down gently.

You crawl into his arms, wrapping yourself in his embrace. He doesn’t stop you or tense up, instead, letting you place your face into his neck.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” George says softly as he pats your back. Your breathing was uneven, and you were sure you were staining his clothes with your tears.

You guess this was a good way to practice method acting. Pretending that George cared deeply about you, pretending that the two of you were inlove, and pretending that you were one happy family.

Maybe then, William and your new child would grow up happy, fooled by the thought that their parents were happy with one another.

Maybe, it would possibly fool you too.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Can we get that extended version of the dining room scene with King George pls🥵

Dining Room Table - King George iii

Pairing - king George iii x Queen!Reader or Queen Charlotte.

Summary - Extended version of the dining room scene.

Warnings - Sexual Intercourse, oral and masterbation. 18+

You sat approximately 10 chairs away from George, staring across the extravagant table at his frustratingly annoying perfect face. Chewing on your food with anger as he continues to ignore you and sip at his drink.

“Will you please no longer breathe so very loudly?” You state, fidgeting within your oversized seat.

“Would you please not talk?”

“I wish to talk if I wish to talk”

The guards and Brimselys tried to keep their eyes off the scene unfolding in front of them.

“What exactly is the problem? You have been behaving like a child since my first morning here and I have-”

Stopping him mid sentence you brought your fist to the table, the china west clangs together obnoxiously.

“You have been breathing in my rooms.”

He followed suit quickly, scratching his chair back on the wooden flooring. Bringing both his fists down onto the table.

Both Brimsley and Reynolds turned their attention to one another, Reynolds slyly shook his head as if to say ‘don’t interrupt them’.

George began to walk around the table towards you, your heart fluttered within your chest as he got closer to where you stood.

He stood directly in front of you; his chest rising and falling harshly. His eyes went between your eyes and your lips, unsure of where to look.

Your ears began to buzz and the proximity of his body had your body sweating under this abundance of clothing you wore.

His eyes settled on your lips and he brought his fingers to your chin, lifting your head slightly and bringing his lips to yours but not touching.

Your throat was dry and skin itchy. “Shall I leave?” He whispered into your mouth, your eyes but fluttered open and closed. “Yes, leave now.” You spoke, regretting your answer immediately.

He dropped his fingers from your chin and pulled back, stepping away from where you stood. He was but two steps away when you reached out and grabbed his arm, he all but snatched it from your hold. Annoyance written all over his features.

But the moment his eyes met yours he was reaching for you and you for him. Lips meeting in the middle with such haste.

Brimsley and Reynolds looked at one another and back at the scene, unsure what to do. Taking notice of the other men in the room looking at one another in shock.

You pulled away from each other for a moment, George’s eyes stared at your lips. “It is an even day,” he spoke.

“It is” you sighed out as his lips met yours again, the room felt as though it was spinning around you.

His lips weren’t enough, he spun you around. Pressing your legs to the table. Kissing at your neck, your arm came around to cradle his head. But within moments he grasped your hand and slammed it down onto the table, tightening his hold around your hips.

His hand rushed towards the ends of your skirt, ruffling the material up towards your hips. Your hands hastily pushed the table wear off onto the floor, it met the floor with a loud crash.

Everyone’s eyes looked around in shock, Brimsley’s eyes looked over at Reynolds who stepped forward and moved his arm in an usher gesture. Brimsley followed suit, both men ushered the others out.

The two of you so wrapped up in each other, you hadn’t noticed the room had become empty.

Your hands around his neck and his body between your legs, your bum met the table and he pushed himself against you.

Breathy moans slipped from your lips and his fingers pulled at your undergarments, tossing them across the room. His hands squeezed at your thighs before creeping up towards your folds, his fingers spread through your folds. Gathering your arousal to lubricate your clit, toying with the bundle of nerves as you cried out for mercy. “Oh George!” You whined, dropping your body back onto the table, arching your back as his two fingers entered your tight wet hole. Your hand reached out to grab something but only managed to grab the foliage on the table, hitting that off the table with another bang.

His fingers left you and he replaced them with his mouth, sucking and licking your pussy until you were coming around his tongue, his chin had light sheen to it.

“This stupid dress, I want to see your body” he growled, knowing he couldn’t undress you in the dining room. He gripped the material of your body and roughly pulled it down until your breasts popped out, his mouth meeting your perky nippled. His hips grind into your soaking pussy, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer.

“Let me see it” you whined, reaching down for his pants. He watched you undo his belt and then his zip, pulling his hard girthy cock out. Your mouth salivating at the sight of him, you tugged him within your hands.

Reaching between you for a moment to gather your arousal for lubrication.

“Oh your naughty naughty girl” he chastised, smirking down at you as you rubbed him out. He gripped your wrist and pulled you away from him, holding the base of his cock, he lined himself up with you.

“So tight, always so goddamn delectable” he groaned, pushing himself within your tight walls. Your fingers squeezed at his shoulders as he thrusted within you. His mouth kissing and biting at your neck and then your breasts, suckling at your nipples.

“Please George, faster!” You cried out, he pulled out of you and spun you around. Pushing your body into the table with force, causing the rest of the contents on the table to tumble over and meet their doom on the floor.

“Faster? You want faster? Okay my queen” he growled, his hand met your bum with a slap, your mouth falling open with a moan.

His cock was thrusting in and out of you, the noises your pussy made were the most delightful sounds either of you had heard. Your walls fluttered around him, the pit of your stomach felt heavy. “George! Oh my, my King bloody hell!” You cried out, you knew your hips would be bruised by the morning.

His cock hitting you with such force the table should be under you, your fingers scratching the surface of the table.

“I can feel your pretty cunt pulsating around me, are you close?” He questioned, pulling out of you again. This time he reached for you pulling you up to have you straddle him, he walked you over towards the fire place.

“Hold here” he ordered, pointing to the ledge above the fireplace that had begun to burn out. You knocked the remanence off the ledge and held tightly as he fucked up into you, this new position causing you to cry out in the pleasure.

Your eyes began to tear up as he held you tightly by the hips and thrusted up into you.

“GEORGE! So close!” You warned him, no longer able to hold onto the pleasure that was building within your belly. His cock nudge your sweet spot a few more times before you screamed, squeezing your eyes shut and letting your orgasm sweep you under its wave,

Ears buzzing as though a save of honey bees had made home within your eardrums, body shaking above him as you milked him dry.

He grunted and moaned into your breasts, throwing out words of encouragement and the two of you finished.

The moment the orgasm had faded, the two of you looked at one another. He put you back onto the floor and tucked himself into his pants, you watched on as he walked across the room to grab your undergarments.

“Let’s get you a bath”.

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[neo-novaa]

idk if you watch bridgerton buuuttttt🙈🙈 if you do could you maybee write smth about king george?

SMUT!! 16+, no spoilers YEESSSSS i’ve been waiting for this one bc lorrddd am i thinking about it…

no bc he def talks you through it. he’d be so gentle with it, guiding you through everything on your wedding night, telling you exactly what he’s about to do and constantly telling you that “you can just tell me if you don’t like something and i’ll stop.”

he’s soft. in both the literal and metaphorical sense. literal in the way that his hands have never seen the rough caluces of work, his knees clean of scars from childhood, his arms soft from the silks and linens he’d been buried in since birth.

metaphorical in the sense that he bends over backwards for you. if there’s anything you ever want, he’s willing to battle through dozens of butlers to give it to you first. he’d cater to your every whim, and he’d kneel at your feet if you ever asked for it.

and ask for it you have, because this man is a capital “m” Munch!

so much so that as a passing glance and he’s dragging you away from brimsley, forcing you to bunch your garments up at the hips, and eating you out until you can barely stand straight. 

and the sentiment is very much shared. all it takes for you is a glimpse of that stupidly dashing smile of his and all of a sudden you’re the one down on your knees.

oh, he also whimpers 🤗

[draco-spencers-paramour]

do i now write for king george? of course i fucking do. send requests my loves

[muxshwriting]

★ BRIDGERTON

ANTHONY BRIDGERTON

good luck, babe

your husband can't seem to move on from his previous fling, Siena

that lovin' feeling

Anthony loves his wife, and he’s not afraid to show it

SIMON BASSET

you and i || part two

as Daphne's twin, you were always second to her. but then you meet someone who is only yours, completely devoted to you. nothing will come between the two of you, it is just you and him

VIOLET BRIDGERTON

my love, my life (daughter!reader)

Violet and her youngest, Y/N were mirror image. when you debut and fall in love, she faces the reality of letting you go

blessed to be (maid!reader)

as her maid, you can't help but grow close to the Bridgerton matriarch

ELOISE BRIDGERTON

the way i loved only you || part two (fem!reader)

you never thought you’d find someone again, let alone find that someone in a past you left behind

KING GEORGE

the cold night arrives

you wake to a cold bed and watch the sun rise as you search for your husband

[thebadgerclan]

All Is Well

Pairing: King George III x reader

Summary: All will be well, so long as he has you...

A/N: I’m easing myself into this character with some fluff lol.

Also, any and all writings featuring King George III or Queen Charlotte are based off of their fictional portrayals from Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story, NOT THE HISTORICAL FIGURES

“Is he well?”  “It would not be proper of me to say, Your Majesty.”  “Reynolds, please, you know what I mean.”  “He seems well, all things considered, Majesty.”  You were walking briskly through the corridors of Buckingham House, Reynolds mere paces behind you.  You had been in the library when the King’s Man found you, breathlessly informing you that your husband was having one of his “episodes”

The books you were perusing were left abandoned on the table as you rushed to his side, knowing George needed you now.  Doctor Monro was gone, banished from palace grounds, after his horrendous treatment of your husband, and George had seen marked improvements in his condition in his absence.  Yes, he still had lapses, but they were more manageable, all thanks to you.

You showed your husband kindness, compassion, and patience when he was having an episode.  You may not understand why such trivial things drove him to near hysterics, but that did not mean he was not deserving of kindness.  And George had responded wonderfully.  All he needed was someone who loved and cared about him to help him through.

Servants bowed and curtsied as you hurried past, and when you reached the doors to your chambers, Brimsley was waiting outside.  He bowed as you approached.  “Your Majesty,” he greeted, and you nodded.  “Is he alright?”  “He appears frightened, Your Majesty,” Brimsley responded.  “By what I cannot say.”  “Very well, thank you.  Wait here.”  Your Man stepped aside and you opened the door, closing it gently when you were inside.

“George, darling?” you said softly.  “It is me, my love.  Your Y/N is here.”  For several moments, the room was silent, then you heard rustling from the corner.  “Y/N?” came George’s voice, and you moved closer to him.  “Yes, my sweet.  What is the matter?”  You took another step, finding your husband huddled in the corner of the room, a thick blanket covering him.  He peered up at you, his eyes wide.  “She is angry, Y/N.”

You crouched before him, extending a hand towards your husband.  Reluctantly, he unearthed his arm from the blanket and clasped your hand, pulling you closer to him.  “Who is, George?”  Your voice was kind, patient, and your husband swallowed.  “Venus.  She is angry, Y/N, angry at me.”  “I see,” you said.  “Why is she angry, my dear?”  “I did not go to see her as I promised.  Now she is…I am scared, Y/N.”

It broke your heart to see your husband hurting so, and you moved to sit at his side, kissing his hand.  “You are safe here, my love.  She will not harm you.”  George shook his head.  “No, no, Y/N, you do not understand.  She is so very angry, she will–”  “Shh, shh, my love,” you soothed, coaxing him into your arms.  “She will not harm you, George, I will not allow it.”

“No, no!  You cannot, Y/N, she is-”  “I am a Queen, am I not?”  George fell silent.  “You are,” he answered after a moment.  “Thousands of people bend to my whim.  Surely a celestial being would do the same?”  George had no rebuttal for that, and he nuzzled his face into your chest.  After a few minutes, you coaxed him to sit, gently turning his face to meet yours.

“Let’s get you into bed, my love.  I will make sure that Venus does not–”  “No!” he cried, eyes wide and fearful.  “Y/N, you cannot.  She…she will not…you cannot…”  “George, look at me.”  His gaze had shifted to the wall beyond your shoulder, and his speech had become mumbled.  “No, George, look at me.  You are going to lie down, and I am going to make sure Venus does not harm you.  Then I will return.”

The King shook his head, still mumbling.  “I will not be more than ten minutes, my love, I swear it.”  “You swear it?”  “I do, George.  I promise.”  Your husband was already in his nightclothes, so you turned down the covers and helped him to lie down, tucking the blankets over him and kissing his forehead.

You exited your chambers, where Brimsley, Reynolds, and the guards and staff tasked with protecting the King were gathered.  “The King appears to be having a more subdued episode tonight, but that does not mean you can let your guard down.  I want the usual staff securing the perimeter of the gardens, I want staff at every main exit point with warm clothes, and I want hot water at the ready throughout the night.  Am I clear?”

A chorus of “Yes, Your Majesty’s” were heard, and you nodded.  “Good.  Brimsley, Reynolds, you have your orders.”  “Indeed, ma’am,” Brimsley replied, and you nodded again.  “Good.  Let us hope His Majesty is feeling better by morning.”  You re-entered your chambers, where George was muttering to himself, trembling beneath the covers.

“George, my love, I am back,” you said, unlacing your gown and stays.  You pulled a nightdress over your head and joined him in bed, opening your arms to him.  Your husband gravitated towards you, snuggling into your embrace.  “Venus, is she still angry?” he asked, and you kissed his forehead.  “A bit,” you replied.  “But she promised to forgive you if you promise to see her the next time she is here.”

Your husband nodded, a wave of calm washing over her.  “She did?”  “Yes, my love, she did.  Rest now, my darling.  I love you.”  George hummed, cuddling even closer to you.  “I love you too, my Y/N.”  George soon drifted off to sleep, but you remained awake, watching him as he slept, praying that all would be well.

***

When you woke, it was to find your husband propped up on an elbow, gazing at you lovingly.  “Good morning, my dearest,” he said, dipping his chin to kiss you.  You happily received his kiss, cupping his cheek when he pulled back.  “You are well, my love?  Back with me?”  Your husband nodded.  “I am, Y/N.  Though I am suspiciously clean, so I take it I did not indulge on a late night stroll through the gardens?”

You laughed softly.  “No, you were rather somnolent.  Fearful, even.”  “Fearful?  What of, my darling?”  “Apparently Venus was quite cross with you because you did not go to see her.”  George thought for a moment before barking out a laugh.  “Of course!  It was three nights ago that Venus was at her brightest.  I had planned to spend the evening in the observatory, but someone had other plans, didn’t they?”

A blush painted your cheeks, and George kissed you sweetly.  “Can I truly be blamed?  The doctor said that two weeks after my courses ended–”  “Venus can wait for all I care,” George said.  “You are the most important thing in my life.  And when we have our, both of you will be the most important things in my life.  I love you, Y/N.  Thank you.”  Thank you for understanding, thank you for not judging, thank you for being kind, thank you for loving him, is what he meant.  And you knew it.

“You are most welcome, George,” you replied, kissing him again.  The King’s expression shifted to a wicked grin, and you smiled.  “How long did the doctor say that you’d be fertile for?”  “A few days, wh–oh!”  Your husband had slipped beneath the covers, lifting your nightdress over your hips.  It seemed the morning was off to a rather pleasant start.