#king george iii x y/n

[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!

[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.

[rafeyswrd]

HER ROYAL HIGHNESS

benedict bridgerton x princess (poc) reader

prologue.

After a series of agonising years of begging her mother to be let out into society — as a commoner would, equally putting her as the diamond of the season, the queen has finally, yet hesitantly agreed. Though with a single condition;

Sponsor the upcoming season. SUCCESSFULLY.

It was proven to be a challenge when her faith was put into the hands of the eldest bridgerton, whom was stubborn beyond belief. And it was only with the help of the second eldest that the princess might accomplish her goal.

However, getting Anthony to be married seemed to be less of a struggle in comparison to the hardship soon to occur with Benedict. Whose eyes never seem to leave her own.

OVERALL WARNING. smut!! (and lots of implied sex & talk), age gap (almost 8 years), toxic family, mentions of mental health issues, classism, abuse of power, mean ish lady danbury (i had to okay), alcohol consumption, misogyny, miscommunication, slowwww burn.

GENRE. fluff, angst, smut. a slight Rapunzel retelling, set in season 2–3 with mentions of season 1.

AUTHORS NOTE. ahhh!! i’m so excited for this, i’ve had this idea since i rewatched season 2 of bridgerton and read a one shot on here about princess reader, and it has not left my mind since. it takes place in season 2 and will have snippets of season 3. please feel free to leave suggestions of what you’d like to see xx

also!! i’ll finish your requests in my inbox soon i promise, this’ll probs make me go back to wp lol

[d4yl1ghts]

Hi! I have a king George request!

He saw her one time and from there on he makes sure to be at any event shes at, he starts crushing on her so hard and she becomes his "venus".

So when he has an episode around her she calms him down and they start talking and they kiss for the first time

Cute fluff 😘

Thank uuuuu

venus

king george iii x fem!reader

summary: george takes a liking to you over time and at a ball you help him through an episode

warnings: mental health episodes

-

You were currently dancing with a young suitor as you felt eyes lustfully taking your figure in. Turning your head sideways, you noticed the King eagerly awaiting for you by the side.

George was awed by your beauty, he had never seen someone so beautiful. Each time his eyes wanted to stray away, they would just land right back on you. He had been harvesting a liking to you for the past few weeks as he had seen you at many balls and events. At each event you were at, he always stood to the side and analysed your features.

Your suitor had finally gone after the dance had finished and so you elegantly made your way over to the King. Once you had reached him, you curtsied. He bashfully smiled. “Hello, Lady Y/N.”, he welcomed you softly. “Hello, your majesty.”, you responded. “I would ask for a dance but I notice your dance card is full but it does not matter, in fact I never really enjoyed dancing.”, he stated kindly. “Yes, I was never one for dancing either, I’d rather be at the side of the ballroom talking to people like you.”, you replied honestly. “Royalty?”, he joked and chuckled. You laughed slightly.

“Would you like to go outside where it is not so crowded?”, he offered. “Yes, of course.”

George gave you his hand and guided you to a secluded area outside. He gazed up at the sky. “Have you ever watched the stars before?”, he questioned. “No, but I would love to.”, you said. He began pointing out the important stars and explaining their history and the lore behind them. You noticed his hand had started trembling but brushed it off. “You’re like Venus.”, he whispered to you. “You always manage to capture my eyes and my mind.”, he said tentatively to you. He felt his hand tremble and his head. “Would you mind getting Reynolds, please?”, he softly asked.

You hurried off to find Reynolds, you didn’t know what was going on but you weren’t going to ask questions about the King’s health. You found Reynolds beside a carriage. “Reynolds, the King has requested you.”, you walked off hastily with Reynolds behind you. You reached George and saw him speaking to himself and his head twitching. “Is he okay?”, you asked concerned. “Lady Y/N, please return to the ball.”, Reynolds commanded. “No, let her stay if she would like.”, George said. You walked closer to George and grabbed his trembling hands.

“It will be alright, your majesty.”, you stated. “Why don’t you tell me about Venus?”, you added, hoping to distract his mind from whatever was going on. “A rare occurrence is coming. Venus will travel in a single arc and give us a single moment to take precise measurements and we shall know the distance from the Earth to the Sun.”, he said with his voice shaking. He paused. “The transit of Venus it is called. It will be quite a spectacle.”, he stated with a lost look in his eyes. “I’m sure it will, it sounds very intriguing and important for the study of astronomy.”, you mentioned as you noticed his hands had stopped trembling so violently.

Reynolds was stood off to the side, allowing you your moment. His head stopped twitching and he was no longer mumbling incoherent words. Your hands still held his and he tightened his grip on yours. He gazed at you. “I am sorry.”, he said pitifully. “For what?”, you asked. “I am a mad man.”, he turned his eyes to his hands. “George, you are no mad man. I see a kind and funny man.”, you stated genuinely. You looked into his eyes and gently pecked his lips before he kissed back hungrily. “I must head back. I hope to see you in the future, Lady Y/N.”, he kissed your hand gently. You smiled at him and bid your goodbyes.

[inlovewithpandora]

“I’m very good with buttons.” ᝰ King George III

ᥫ᭡ — Tracklist ᝰ Genre Keys.!

✿ - fem!reader・❖ - gn!reader・♛ - black!reader・✸ - albino!reader

💍 - wife!reader・🌸 - mom!reader・💞 - pregnant!reader

✲ - smut・※ - suggestive・❀ - fluff・♨︎ - angst・✂︎ - hurt・☂︎ - comfort

♥︎ - romance・★ - platonic・📥 - request・🗓️ - newest

ᥫ᭡ — CASSETTES ᝰ HEADCANONS.!

— new music pending.!

ᥫ᭡ — DIGITAL ᝰ DRABBLES.!

— new music pending.!

ᥫ᭡ — VINYL DISC 1 ᝰ ONESHOTS.!

— new music pending.!

ᥫ᭡ — VINYL DISC 2 ᝰ TWOSHOTS.!

— new music pending.!

ᥫ᭡ — ALBUM ᝰ SERIES.!

— new music pending.!

[succubusdivinity]

Just finished my Bridgerton script and about to go fuck King George, see you lovely bitches later 💗✌️

[leviathanspain]

🐈‍⬛ hiii! what do you think of benedict bridgerton x reader, where reader is daphne’s long time friend who’s always been close with the family and has always had a crush on benedict, she doesn’t make it obvious but even he knows and before her big debut she overhears him talking with his brothers about her and how he’d never marry her because he’d never have feelings for you even though you have feelings for him, reader quickly moves on because why would she care about what a man thinks right? so obviously she has to go to the balls looking real good and dance with lots of guys making him jealous (perk but not the goal) and he eventually realizes his feelings and makes it all up to her after finding out she heard what he said

like someone in love

benedict bridgerton x reader

synopsis: you’ve come to terms with the fact that he would never see you romantically, and so you have to find a way to move on

you audibly gasped, hand clutching at your corset, that your lady’s maid was strapping to your body. she looked over your shoulder and you shook your head, “i am fine, tighter!” you shrieked shrilly, feeling the air constrict in your lungs.

you heard the quick ties of the ribbon and inhaled slowly, “i have to look perfect for tea with daphne.” you admired yourself in the mirror, “if i happen to run into mr. bridgerton, i want to look perfect.” you held your head high, watching your hair fall back loosely, “use the blue ribbon, will you?”

“of course, my lady.” anne, your lady’s maid, always had a small smile on her face whenever she helped you with your visits to the bridgerton household; ever since you became taken with the middle brother, benedict.

you tried to be modest with your attraction, especially since he was daphne’s older brother, and she was your dearest friend. but sometimes, you felt as if the entire ton could see right through you.

“this is the last he’ll see of me before i’m game to the rest of london.” you rolled your eyes, “with whatever my mother has planned- i can only expect a surprise.” your mother, constance, had wonderful success in marrying off your three older sisters, to members of high european society.

“i don’t want her to choose my husband, i know who he is,” you inhaled again, “he just has to choose me.” you smoothed down your skirt, and walked over to your vanity, anne following quickly behind.

“oh, y/n!” daphne still felt like a girl whenever you appeared in her doorway. the drawing room had been empty except for her, looking beautiful as ever.

you looked around before greeting her back, smiling brightly as you sat across from her, “where is everyone?” you couldn’t help but feel disappointed that benedict wasn’t sketching away by the window.

daphne exhaled, “mama took everyone out for promenade. i’m rather nervous about tomorrow, and well,” she shrugged, smiling.

you nodded, “i most definitely am nervous. a pit in my stomach.” you admitted, “i understand, daph. that is why when i received your invite for tea, i knew i had to come.”

daphne’s attention shifted to the bustling bodies that were shoving each other through the drawing room doorway. it was all her brothers, with eloise.

eloise smiled at you, and moved over to the seat beside her sister. benedict, colin and anthony all greeted you politely, indulging in small conversation with daphne before excusing themselves to the study.

as they left, you couldn’t help but let your eyes hang on benedict, not bothering to hide your feelings. daphne smiled, “y/n, i do hope my brother marries you, you’d be my sister.” you blushed, laughing off her comment as eloise raised her eyebrows.

your tea with daphne had turned into a private dinner, and it had gotten late. “this was lovely, daph.” you had stopped on your walk by the study with daphne, “i’ll see you tomorrow, be perfect.” you wished her luck, and waved her off as she dashed back up the stairs.

the bridgerton house grew quiet as you took your time exiting. you had hoped you’d accidentally bump into benedict on your way out, but as you passed the last room, you lost hope.

“no!” you heard some shouting, a rancorous laughter followed and you paused by the wall of the last room. it was the three brothers, indulging in conversation. “i would never marry y/n. she’s-“ you heart dropped just as the voice paused, “there’s nothing there. no.” he, benedict, how could you not recognize that voice, had unknowingly shattered your heart with muffled conversation.

you inhaled sharply, and dashed out of the home, walking fast to your carriage as your tears threatened to fall.

your father had been a great man. your mother loved him passionately that even she cried when he died. you cried, but you were a child who knew her father fleetingly. your mother made you promise on his grave that no man would ever make you hurt like this again.

benedict breaking your heart was no different, and you knew you couldn’t dwell. your mother would not let you, you would not let yourself cry for him anymore.

the debut had been the easy part, the hard part was standing out. your first ball and already you couldn’t qualm your nerves. you knew that daphne and her entire family would be attending, you would have to see benedict, have to see him knowing what he said.

your mother had revealed to you that there was a duke and a prince in the waters, and you had to reach for the highest of stars.

your dance card had been filled to the brim, not even an hour had passed before there was a line of eligible suitors waiting for a dance. you were speechless, never did you think you’d get a reaction like that. not when there was daphne in the same pool of ladies.

everyone but the man you wanted had lined up for a dance, even his brother colin, but it was friendly more than anything.

benedict watched you carefully, smiling politely as you and colin danced. you indulged his ramblings about his wishes to travel, your father had been quite the explorer before settling down, so you were as worldly as he had been.

benedict tugged at his collar. seeing his brother with you had left him feeling odd, upset.

“ben, are you okay?” anthony had surprised his brother, and benedict nodded, “ye-yes. i just need a breath.” he spotted the nearest double doors, leading off to a balcony of some sort, he rushed away, his hand clutching into a fist nervously.

his skin felt hot, and he exhaled a breath. you had an affect on him that he had tried to ignore for months now.

when he was confronted about it by his brothers, he denied it fiercely, you were young, beautiful and wildly too good for him. not with your sisters’ husbands being who they were, benedict knew your mother wouldn’t even consider him as a thought.

but he couldn’t ignore the rage he felt at colin, watching his hands on your body, guiding you as you danced.

he knew you had an affection for him, he could see it in your eyes, but you didn’t know him, you couldn’t see why he was the wrong man for you. anthony had claimed that look in your eyes was of someone in love. he encouraged his brother, but benedict grew more reserved about his decision.

you wanted him to see. five balls of trying to capture a glance from benedict bridgerton, and five balls of failure. you had danced with nearly all of the eligible men, many handsome and as rich as you could imagine, but none left you with desire.

benedict was slowly becoming nothing but a dream, an unfulfilled desire that only kept you up at night.

on the night of the last ball of the season, you knew you had to get benedict alone. you had grown restless through the season, upset and frustrated. this was your last chance, because your mother refused to have her daughter end her first season unmarried.

you would be someone’s wife soon, and you had to be his.

benedict needed this. the drag of the smuggled cigarette in his lungs, the exhaling into the pitch black sky. knowing you were inside, dancing your way into someone else’s arms.

he refused to watch it happen, and he refused to admit how much he hated all of the men of the ton. he loathed every single one for having danced with you.

“mr. bridgerton.” he had only heard you address him a few times. not in a long while, and he had made sure of that.

he turned, shocked to see you standing behind him. you were wearing a baby blue dress, cheeks flushed. “miss heathfield.” he seemed breathless, and he dropped the cigarette that had been between his fingers, brushing his hand on his coat, holding it behind his back.

“it is chilly out here, perhaps you would be more comfortable inside?” no one else was outside, and it was inappropriate for you to be out here with him, alone.

you didn’t move, “benedict,” you spoke informally and sighed, “i will be someone’s wife before the month ends, and i just want to know.” he blinked, “why do you not want me to be yours?” you exhaled, feeling a relief off your chest.

benedict watched as you walked closer to him, “i have wished for that since the beginning of the season, y/n.” he looked at you, “you are beautiful, talented, wondrous and intriguing woman, and i absolutely do not deserve you.” his lips went tight, “i’ve seen your sisters’ husbands. they’re dukes and earls, i’m not even the viscount.” he whispered, “you deserve to be loved like a queen, a princess, anything but a mrs.”

you grew emotional, tears brimmed in your eyes and you stomped, “stop it this instance, benedict bridgerton!” you were now face to face with him, you could smell the cigarette smoke more clearly now, “i can see you feel strongly about me, and i want nothing more in this moment than for you to kiss me.”

benedict looked at you, glancing at the parted doorway, light and laughter floated down to his ears before he rushed in to kiss you.

your knees went weak at the kiss, and he gripped you, holding you against him. he pulled away, panting, “i-“ he was utterly speechless.

“i know.” you whispered, knowing the look in his eyes all too well.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Carriage Rides

Pairings- King George iii x reader

Summary - no plot just smut

Warnings- unprotected sex in a carriage. (18+)

“Your majesty” Reynolds' voice outside the carriage door brought you both back to reality. Just outside those doors were your subjects , waiting patiently for their king and queen.

“Do not open that door Reynolds” George ordered, his hips continuing to thrust up against yours. Your own hips rolling against his, chasing your end.

“Is everything alright your majesty?” Reynolds' voice interrupts you once again, George’s hands grip tightly around the bunched up material of your dress.

His brows furrowed together in anger, he was so close. If people stop interrupting the two of you, you would be finished. On the way to the meeting but apparently no one had patience these days.

“Splendid Reynolds, now you keep that door closed or so help me I will have you beheaded” George quips, his attention moves back to yours.

His hand grips your jaw and pulls you down to his lips. Your hips begin their movement once more, your dress was in the way. Stopping you both from being as close to one another as possible, you hated it.

“Oh! George” you cried into his mouth, the corner of his lips turning up into a grin. He loved the sounds you made, he loved the way your voice would get raspier with each thrust of the hip.

“That’s it sweet y/n… doing so good” he whispered, you could feel the carriage move from under you. Your bodies causing the carriage to sway slightly, the sounds of the footmen chatting outside brought you out of your haze once more.

“Hey hey… don’t mind them y/n… look at me, feel me”

You nodded your head, placing your hands on his shoulder. His own hands groped at your breast, he so desperately wanted them out of the stupid dress you had been put into, but there wasn’t enough time to get you both undressed.

“Get off” he orders, moving you away from him. It’s not easy to move around the small space of the carriage but he is able to push your body against the window, your knees pressed against the cushion of the seat.

His body meets yours once again and he pushes inside of you, you bite down on the red curtain.

“You needn’t hide those sweet sounds my Queen… let them hear”.

You do as he says and let the material fall from your mouth, instead gripping it with your hands as his hips meet yours.

Moans and groans fill the carriage, traveling outside to where Reynolds and Brimsley stand guard at the door. Their eyes meet for a moment and they share a knowing look, they begin to order the crowd to move along. Telling them their king and queen will be a few moments longer.

“Oh George!”

“your doing such a good job my love”

Your walls begin to flutter around him, squeezing him deeper and deeper in. Your toes curl within the diamond encrusted shoes that hold your feet captive.

“Do not stop” you chant, you're so close to your release. You want nothing more than to cum around him.

“I’m going to bury my seed so deep into you… we are going to have many babies my love”

“Christ!”

Suddenly it happens, your release. White hot, blinding pleasure overwhelms your senses, your vision begins to blur and a moan escapes you. You tremble against the seat of the carriage, mind blank and fuzzy.

“That’s it my love… milk me dry”

Just as your pleasure begins to fade you feel his seed shoot deep inside of you a new warmth within you. George’s hips stutter against your bottom, a soft groan escapes his lips.

“We must make haste” you state, his cock falls out of you. Fixing your multi layer dress until you looked what you deemed perfect.. “Do I-”

“You look beautiful my love”.

[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.”

[draco-spencers-paramour]

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

[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.

[donaidk]

✨ Welcome to my blog ✨

I usually post fanfictions, aus, gifs, pictures and stuff about my studies. If you ever wanna talk to me my ask box is always open and I’m not biting in dms either. Only a tiny bit 😉 If you wanna see content on my blog of anything please don’t hold back and I will do my best to get it out there 🤗 Hope you will enjoy your browsing here 🧡

Someone brought it to my attention that the masterlist page sometimes doesn't work from phones, so I'm remaking my pinned post in a way that it will contain my full masterlist in it. Thank you anon for the heads up! 🧡

What can help me if you mention it in your request: OPEN/CLOSED

Character: driver/crew member/whatever you can think of

Relationships: friendships/siblings/relationships (past or present)

Ideas: any ideas you would like me to include

Realness: would you like me to follow real life events/schedule or can I step away from it?

Name: should I name the character, should it be Y/N or would you like me to use a given name?

Masterlist | Taglist/Queue | Request

(this is gonna be a pinned post, that I’m gonna refresh if things change)

FANFICTIONS

Symbols

🌠 - in the works

🎉 - special parts (holiday themed, present for someone)

🧾 - requested

❤️ - involves a relationship

🥀 - involves angst

👊 - involves a friendship

💥 - trigger warning

▶️ - link to another site

Series

Inquisitione (to find myself) - Pierre Gasly (for @x-lipstickstains-x 🎉)

Chapters: Part I 👊❤️ | Part II ❤️ | Part III ❤️🥀 | … | Special Part I 🎉❤️ | …

Characters: Pierre Gasly, Fleur Carmin

AO3: ▶️

Moodboard: 🖼️

False Confidence - Lando Norris

Parts: Chapter I 👊 | Chapter II 👊 | Chapter III 👊 | Chapter IV 👊 | Chapter V 👊 | Chapter VI 👊 | Chapter VII 👊 | Chapter VIII 👊 | Chapter IX  👊 |  Chapter X 👊❤️ | Chapter XI 👊❤️

Translated parts: Chapter I 👊 | Chapter II 👊 | Chapter III 👊 | ...

Characters: Lando Norris, Daniel Ricciardo, Nyck de Vries, TBA

AO3: ▶️

Moodboard: 🖼️

Rhythm of Time - Mick Scumacher

Parts: Part I 👊 | Part II 👊 | Part III 👊 | Part IV 👊 | Part V 👊 | Part VI 👊💥 | Part VII 👊 | Part VIII 👊  | …

Characters: Mick Schumacher, Mona Timmons, Haas F1 Team

AO3: ▶️

Moodboard: TBA

Alive - George Russell

Parts: Teaser 💥 | Chapter I 💥👊 | Chapter II  👊 | …

Characters: George Russell, Alex Albon, TBA

AO3: ▶️

Moodboard: TBA

Pieces of our Love - Marcus Armstrong

Parts: One 👊 | …

Characters: Marcus Armstrong, Zasha Shwartzman, Robert Shwartzman, …

AO3: ▶️

Moodboard: TBA

AUs

This is my show - Alex Albon

Parts: Part I 💥 | ...

Characters: Alex Albon, Lily Muni He, George Russell, Lando Norris, OG female characters, TBA

AO3: ▶️

Moodboard: 🖼️

Oneshots

Teddy Bear - George Russell ❤️ | ▶️

Eyes Off You - Mick Schumacher 🧾❤️💥 | ▶️

Looking at me - Arthur Leclerc 🧾👊 | ▶️

Perfect Strangers - Mick Schumacher 🧾👊 | ▶️

A special holiday - Lance Stroll 🧾❤️ | ▶️

Flying High - Lando Norris 🧾❤️ | ▶️

Overwritten Plans - Nyck de Vries 🧾❤️💥 | ▶️

Prema Cooking Challenge - Marcus A. & Callum I. 🧾👊 | ▶️

Worth the wait - Mick Schumacher 🧾❤️ | ▶️

Almost Home Part I - Marcus Armstrong 🧾👊 | ▶️

We Don’t Have To Dance I. - George Russell 🧾❤️💥 | ▶️

Baby Badger & Prequel & Sequel & Hide&Seek - Daniel Ricciardo ❤️ | ▶️

FANCAMS

Pierre Gasly - We're the new kings

Daniel Ricciardo - Burn The House Down

Liam Lawson - Afterparty

Susie Wolff - Venus Fly Trap

Daniel Ricciardo - All Hands on Deck

Daniel Ricciardo - I Wanna Be Your Slave (Gangsta)

Marcus A. & Callum I - Confetti

Daniel Ricciardo - Dress

Pierre Gasly - Best Day Yet

Lando Norris - Best Day Yet

Daniel Ricciardo - Walk walk fashion baby

[d4yl1ghts]

Anything King George! If the reader can help him calm after a bad episode after their marriage, honestly anything king George I’d love, I absolutely love your writing!

episode

king george iii x wife, fem!reader

summary: you help george calm down after he has an episode

warnings: mental health episodes, argument

A/N- ik this is so short

-

You stumbled around the palace after waking in the middle of the night and seeing an empty space beside you. There were often lonely mornings when you would awake alone but now that you knew he was gone, you had to catch him doing whatever he was doing.

As you hid with the shadows of the walls, you heard something in the distance. You couldn’t quite tell what the noise was and so you cautiously crawled over to the room where it was coming from. On closer inspection, it sounded like groans- George? You couldn’t tell if it was pain or pleasure…

Slowly, you reached out for the brass doorknob and turned to twist it but it made a sudden bang. Shit, you thought to yourself as you hurriedly moved to the side, but not quick enough as Reynolds rushed out and bowed his head once he saw you. “Your Majesty.”

“Reynolds, what is going on? Are those the noises of my dear husband?”, you questioned worriedly. He hesitated uncertainly before deciding on: “I suppose so, your Majesty.”

“What is going on?”, you settled on asking, despite the ounces of queries in your mind. “Well, I believe it to be best if you head back to your chambers.”, Reynolds replied. “I would like to go back to my chambers with my husband.”, you stated stubbornly. “Okay…”, he responded with a tone of unsureness. He carefully widened the door so you could enter.

As you walked in, you were speechless at the sight before you. George was writhing in pain due to a said doctor prodding and poking him. “George.”, you greeted as he turned to look at me. “Get out!”, he yelled. You noticed his hands were shaking, as they do when he enters his episodes. You knew he had them so you didn’t understand why he was screaming at you to leave.

“George.”, you muttered as you made my way towards him. “Please, get out.”, he whispered. “You cannot see me like this.”, he added. He gazed at you before his eyes grew glossy and distant. “Venus, Venus, Venus…”, he mumbled continuously as he held his head in his hands. You gently pried his hands off of his head and held his hand in yours tenderly.

He stared into your eyes as his attention was drawn back onto you. His eyes lost their distant look. Gradually, you noticed that as you held his hand, the shaking seemed to stop. “George, why are you doing this? Going through all of this pain?”, you questioned calmly. “I am a mad man. My dear wife does not deserve that.”, he responded. He turned to play with his hands. You placed your hand under his chin to make sure he listened to your next words.

“I love you just how you are, George. I do not and will not have you experiencing suffering just because you believe that I deserve better.”, you caressed his cheek softly. He sat there silently as he hugged his head into the crevice of your neck.

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

British Empire- King George III

Pairing: King George III x Reader

Characters: King George III

Warnings: N/A

Request: N/A

Word Count: 416

Author: Charlotte

Being an advisor to the King of England was an amazing position to be in but also a terrifying one. You were of a high status, revered by many but also it meant you had to tell the king some of the worst news he could hear about and it wasn’t unheard of for an advisor who said the wrong thing to end up injured or dead.

When word reached England of the revolution, you feared what would come of it and when the news was for the worst for the English, you felt terrible for the unlucky fellow who must share word to the King. You were the unlucky fellow. How were you meant to tell the King that America had won the war?

You took a deep breath and knocked on the door of the chamber he was sat in. When he called for you to enter, you wished to run away, especially when the guards offered you a sympathetic smile but you pulled on the fakest smile you could muster and entered the room.

When you hesitated in the doorway, the king shot you a look of disapproval.

“Have you got something to tell me?” He demanded.

He knew you wouldn’t just be visiting for no reason, you would only be there if you had a purpose, even if it was a terrible purpose, one that you never wished to discuss with him.

“Erm… I am sorry to say, your majesty… we kind of… lost America.”

You had no idea how else to phrase it without getting yourself instantly killed for bringing him the message.

“Well, where did you last see it?” He boomed.

The King had been struggling mentally for some time and this did not help matters currently.

“No… erm… they don’t exactly want to be our friends anymore,” you offered to try and clear up the conversation.

He furrowed his eyebrows, inspecting your face closely to figure out why you were telling him such things, as to him this did not matter nor have the severity the truth did.

“No one wants to be our friends, Y/N, but that doesn’t matter,” he stated. “That’s how the British Empire works.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. Technically you had done your job, you had told him that America didn’t want to be under British reign, so to save your neck, you would leave it there for someone lesser to stumble into the trap of getting him to understand what had occurred.

[imperial-martian]

—LETTERS: george washington x reader x king george iii (hamilton)

Author’s Note: this is an old oneshot that I wrote two years ago but it is one of my only good oneshots from back in my first Hamilton phase. This is also in first person (which I used to only write in and now I hate it, but that’s fine) so fair warning this is really old and very different to my writing now. Also, this diverges into two endings, King George’s than Washington’s, they’ll be marked at the end of certain sentences.

Trigger Warnings: first person point of view, two year old writing, death, guns, war, fighting, betrayal, swearing, injuries

I stood in front of my horse looking behind me as I was about to hop on.

"Y/N, come back alive," King George told me.

"I'll try my best," I smiled at him. He gave me a sharp look and I replied differently. "I will."

"Good. Y/N you are the best spy we have right now. We cannot afford to lose you," King said.

"Your Majesty, they will need at least 10 men to take me down," I winked. King George gave off a small chuckle.

"Stay safe," he said grabbing my hand and placing a kiss on top of it. He stood up straight, still holding my hand, and I smiled. He nodded turning around and walking away. I hopped onto the horse and signaled to one of the generals that I was leaving. They nodded and I flicked the rains up. The horse charged forward as I directed it where to go.

Hours passed and I finally arrived at the colonist's army camp. I tied the horse to a tree deep in the woods. Taking my jacket off I laid it on the horse and leaned down to get some mud. Smudging it onto my clothes, face, and arms I wanted to make it look as though I was lost. I gave the horse a little water and a carrot I had put in my bag. Leaving everything behind I headed to the camp. I had made little tears in my clothes to give the effect that I had been injured.

Walking within a hundred feet of the camp I began to limp. I saw a few soldiers talking among themselves as they all held bayonets close to them. I finally made it out of the woods and over to the camp. I walked up to one of the soldiers and grabbed their arm.

"Please help me! I was heading home from the store when a British soldier attacked me. I ran as fast as I could, but when I entered the woods I tripped," I explained on the verge of tears. The man looked at his fellow soldiers and nodded. One of the men ran off into a tent which I assumed was the nurse's tent.

"Follow me, ma'am," the soldier said. I nodded following him. I was a little slow since I still had to pretend to limp. He opened the tent flap and a woman had already set a spot for me to sit. Limping over I sat down and she examined my ankle. The soldiers left the room and walked back to where they were. The nurse grabbed a few tools. I realized how uneducated they were with injuries because they still bandaged my ankle even though nothing was wrong.

"Lay down for a bit. I'll be right back I just need to have a word with the General," the nurse explained. I nodded and watched as she walked out. I looked around the tent noticing that most nurses were out on the battlefield. I stood up and walked over to an empty cot. Laying down I closed my eyes and prepared to get the battle plans by the end of the week.

•••

Today was the last day I could attempt to get the plans. I had been receiving letters from King George quite frequently. He had sent another spy to bring me letters in the woods every day. Since the soldiers believed I was attacked by the British they decided it was best I stayed at camp and help around. Which I did. Having received the letters from King George we communicated often, although I was receiving letters from someone else. Someone I didn't know. When I talked to the nurses about it they all said they had never seen that handwriting before. I shrugged it off and hid the letters.

Having been here for a week I met a few clever soldiers. A few being Alexander Hamilton, Marquis De Lafayette who was an ally from the French, and George Washington. George Washington was the General of the continental army. He was a very unique man. Brave, intimidating, and stern, yet he had a sweet side. He heard that I had been injured and asked me to visit his tent darning my break today. Today was my only opportunity to get the plans without being noticed.

I passed time helping soldiers who came in by the minute. Finally, my break arrived and I had received a new later. Not from King George but the other person. I shoved it into my pocket and stood up. Walking over to the tent I headed for Washington's tent. Walking over a few soldiers who passed by waved. Making it to his tent I stood in front of it a little intimidated to go in.

"Sir, may I come in?" I asked trying to keep my heart rate at normal.

"You may," I heard Washington call out. Walking into his tent he looked up. I saw him smile and put down his quill. He stood up and walked over to me taking my hand and placing a kiss on it.

"Now, Miss L/N, could I have a word?" He asked. I nodded and he smiled grabbing a chair and putting it in front of his desk. We talked for a little while as he asked questions about my life, family, and interests. I had to lie about most of it until we heard someone from outside.

"General Washington, you are needed I'm the nurse's tent. Marquis De Lafayette was shot in the foot," a soldier from outside called. Washington jolted up and threw his coat on.

"Y/N are dismissed for now. It was a pleasure talking with you," Washington said making his way tot he tent flap.

"The pleasure is mine sir," I replied. He turned around smiling and walked out. I walked over to his desk rummaging through the papers to find the plans.

"Aha!" I exclaimed once I found them. I ran out of the tent and towards the woods. King George was supposed to meet me here in a few minutes. He wrote in one of his letters that he would. That reminded me of the later I had received earlier. I went to look for it in the pocket. I panicked once I realized O couldn't find it.

"Shit," I muttered. I must have left it in Washington's tent. I debated if I should have gone back when finally I took another step farther into the woods. I made it to a deep part of the woods and sat in front of a tree. I heard footsteps approaching next to me. I turned my head to see Washington. Shit.

"Y/N, I found this inside my tent I assume it's yours," Washington said holding out the letter. I was about to speak when we heard a branch snap. We turned our heads to the sound and saw King George.

"Y/N, stay behind me!" Washington ordered. He took out his gun from its holster.

"Y/N, dear, do you have the plans?" King George asked.

"Dear?" Washington asked. He turned to me confused. I simply gave him a devilish smirk and held up the plans. I walked past Washington and handed King George the plans. Washington pointed his gun at me.

"Y/N please don't make me do this," Washington pleaded.

"I love you," Washington whispered. His hand was shaking and his eyes had tears in them. King George laughed.

"You love her?" Now that's funny. Sorry to tell you General but when we return to England she will be mine," King George said pointing his own gun at Washington. I was a bright shade of pink at King's words. I didn't know King George felt this was about me. While I was distracted in my thoughts Washington shot King in his leg. He fell to the ground in pain. I grabbed King's gun and pointed it at Washington.

"Y/N DON'T MAKE ME SHOOT YOU!" Washington yelled tears falling from his eyes.

"Do it George," I challenged him using his first name. I realized it. Washington was the person who sent me all of the letters that weren't from King. No one knew the handwriting because Hamilton writes all of Washington's letters. My thoughts stopped as I heard Washington fiddle with the trigger. He dropped to his knees.

"I can't do it because I love you," he muttered.

"But I don't," I replied lifting the gun and pulling the trigger. The bullet went straight to his rib. The spy who gave me the letters from King was helping King George. I walked over helping the spy bandage King. I was shocked that no one found us in the woods or heard the loud shots of the gun.

I looked over at Washington who was barely breathing and laughed.

"That's my Queen," King George said placing a finger under my chin and kissing me softly.

[King George's Ending]

"Y/N, stay behind me!" Washington ordered. He took his gun from its holster and pointed it at King George.

"Y/N, dear, do you have the plans?" King George asked.

"Plans?" Washington whispered. King George took his pistol out and pointed it at Washington. This was when I realized Washington was the man who sent me all of the letters. It was obvious. No one knew his handwriting because he never wrote his own letters. He was always kind to me even when visiting the nurse's tent under the worst conditions.

"Yes plans, Y/N do you have them?" King asked again.

"No," I answered.

"No? What do you mean 'no'?" King asked growling.

"When someone says no they mean no," Washington said through gritted teeth. King had enough with Washington and swiftly lifted his hand, pulling the trigger. I watched Washington's gun fly into the air as the bullet entered his shoulder.

"No! You bastard," I yelled at King.

"Y/N come on let's go back to England and stop this little game," King said turning to walk away.

"Not with the likes of you," I said running over and grabbing Washington's gun.

"Excuse me?" He asked standing still. I shot the gun and saw King drop to the floor. The other spy ran up to him. Before he could shoot me I took the first shot and ensured both men were dead. I sprinted over to Washington making sure he was alright.

"Y/N it isn't as bad as it looks," Washington assured me. I still gave him a panicked look and rushed out of the woods. I grabbed Alexander, who was right outside of the woods, and a nurse and ran back to Washington. The nurse cleaned Washington's wound while Alexander walked over to King George. Alexander went to get a few more men to help with King and the spy. Turning around I saw that the nurse had bandaged Washington's shoulder.

"Sir, you'll need to rest for a little and make sure you don't fight for a while," the nurse explained.

"Of course! Thank you very much," Washington said. The nurse nodded and walked out of the woods. I looked down at my hands and clothes and noticed the blood.

"Sir, I'm going to clean up," I said turning around to walk away. Washington grabbed my wrist with his non-injured arm and placed a kiss on my lips.

[Washington's Ending]