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#king george iii bridgerton
sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year
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Carriage Rides
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Pairings- King George iii x reader
Summary - no plot just smut
Warnings- unprotected sex in a carriage. (18+)
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“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”.
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neo-novaa · 1 year
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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.”
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ghostfacd · 11 months
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WE DON’T HAVE TO TALK ABOUT IT. — king george iii
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— “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 😭
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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.
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randomwhore11 · 1 year
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Took from someone’s tiktok If you know them please tag 🙏 BUT THE HAIR IM IN LOVE WITH THE LONG HAIR 🥰😍😍😍😍😍😍 king George with long hair imagine playing with it 😍😍😍
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QUEEN CHARLOTTE: A BRIDGERTON STORY ↳ Episode 1x06 ↳ Crown Jewels
"We are a team. Are we not"
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lady-charinette · 1 year
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Queen Charlotte:
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layla-keating · 1 year
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I am a madman. I am a danger. In my mind, there are different worlds creeping in. The heavens and the Earth collide. I do not know where I am. You do not wish a life with me for yourself. No one wishes that.
QUEEN CHARLOTTE: A BRIDGERTON STORY Episode 6: Crown Jewels
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She's everything, he's just George
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mydairpercabeth · 1 year
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THEY WILL ALWAYS BE JUST GEORGE AND CHARLOTTE TO ME
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dosa-sambhar · 1 year
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The innuendos in their conversations have me lmao at times
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ceremonial · 1 year
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“If what we have is half, then we shall make it the very best half. I love you. It is enough. I am your Queen. And as long as I am so, I shall never leave your side. You are King. You will be King. Your children will rule. Together, we are whole.” Queen Charlotte & King George III in Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story (2023)
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sugarcoatedstarkey · 1 year
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Marital acts
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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
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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”.
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neo-novaa · 1 year
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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 🤗
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ghostfacd · 1 year
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THE KING AND HIS QUEEN, — king george iii
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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!
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“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.
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randomwhore11 · 1 year
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Right where are all the king George fics at from bridgerton. I need happy George cute George!!!! If I have to keep finding hamilton king George I’ll be sad!!! Please people i beg 😭😭😭🤣🤣🤣
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leviathanspain · 1 year
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self control
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king george iii x reader
synopsis: one of the doctors orders was to abstain from sexual activity, but when did you ever take orders?
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“there he is.” brimsley pointed down to the king, knee deep in the soil, a farming tool in his hands. his shirt was gone, and rightfully so, the sun was scorching today. you maintained composure in front of brimsley but thoughts about your husband, and his body, ran through your mind.
“brimsley..” you didn’t take your eyes off the sight, “do you know if the king has an appointment to see his doctor, today?” you struggled to form the words, especially when you were looking at the breathtaking sight.
the window latch was loose and you pushed it open, opting to remain and stare at your husband until brimsley came back with the news.
“no, your majesty, but i shall find out.” he walked away to the door, most likely to send a servant out to find out, as he hardly left your side, but you remained glued.
george’s chest was falling heavy as he worked in his farm. he was so focused that he didn’t even bother to wipe his brow.
“your majesty, the queen.” reynolds announced you, an unreadable expression on his face as he stared at brimsley.
george didn’t turn around, almost as if had hardly heard the butler. you cleared your throat, and still, no answer.
“george!” you practically stomped the ground to get his attention and finally, he turned around, a pleasant smile on his face.
you rolled your eyes, “stop pretending as if you didn’t hear me.” you stepped closer, watching out for the giant piles of soil around you, “come inside, it’s getting late.” you held a hand out to him but he didn’t take it. instead he brushed past you and stared up at the sky, “it’s nighttime already?” he wiped his hands on his trousers, “reynolds, i think i’ll take my dinner in the observatory.” the butler nodded and began to walk away and you huffed, “no, darling, i was hoping you’d take dinner elsewhere.”
george raised his eyebrows, “where?”
you shrugged, “with me? at the dinner table? like husband and wife?” you clasped your own hands together as you looked at him expectantly.
george stared for a moment until he opened his mouth to answer, “i don’t think so, darling. the stars look rather interesting tonight.” he didn’t say much as he followed reynolds to the observatory, leaving you with your butler, in the dust.
brimsley held a hand out to you, “your majesty.” he motioned to the holes in the ground and you nodded, handing him your hand.
you threw your hands up in exasperation. george was off in the observatory, watching the stars, while you laid in bed, your mind consumed completely of him.
the ache you had to feel him was impossible to ignore. all you wanted was him, especially watching him work outside, had left you hot and bothered.
you opened your doors and the guards stared at you, “your majesty,” they bowed, “shouldn’t you retire to bed now?” they sounded scared, as if they had said something they shouldn’t have, but you were too fired up to even bother to notice, “take me to my husband. now.” you demanded, and they moved with efficiency that you had never seen before.
the doors burst open and george’s attention shifted completely to you, standing there, ravishingly so. his lip drew back into a smile, and he greeted you, “darling!”
you turned back and looked at the guards, “leave us.” you looked at reynolds, who had taken up residence as a fixture in the back corner, “you as well.”
reynolds looked at george who nodded, and you waited in silence as they all left.
finally, you turned to george, grabbing one of his arms, “georgie..” you whispered, but george already knew what you wanted by the mere tone of your voice, “the doctor said-“
“i know what the doctor said.” you responded sternly, “i just- i cant. i need you, now.” you whispered again, your breathe hot as you leaned against him.
george smirked slightly, “i cant darling.” you huffed with annoyance and began to walk away, but george grabbed your arm, holding you back. your back hit his chest as he held you, his arm wrapping itself around your shoulders, “but you know what i can do..” his free hand moved to the front of your robe, peeling it back as he felt the thin fabric of the nightgown.
he bit back a groan, imagining the feeling of you around him, and instead drove his hand to your thighs, his hands gripping the supple skin of your legs, before his hand dove completely to your cunt.
you gripped the hand around your shoulders with surprise, his other hand found your clit, and began to furiously rub it. you moaned slightly, and george whipped you around, letting you lean against the wall as he suddenly found himself on his knees.
he looked up at you, with his hand deep in your cunt, his fingers inside of you, he winked. you grabbed at his hair, “oh-“ you moaned, as he moved in at out of you with a furious pace.
“georgie-“ you cried, “oh fuck,” you shuddered, the undoing was washing over you, your hands gripped onto the fabric of your nightgown.
“give up?” george noticed how slumped you seemed but you shook your head, “more- i want more-“ you moaned, eyes half lidded.
george laughed, “anything you want.” his hands already hiking up your nightgown, the fabric sat on top of your hips.
george didn’t hesitate as he buried his face in your cunt. your whimpers echoed into the large observatory, his name being a constant as he continued to fuck you with his mouth.
george looked up at you, watching your face as you came, your expression ranging from a near cry to a smile of satisfaction.
your legs felt wobbly, your cunt was dripping with your arousal, but george merely kissing the skin of your legs and stomach, before pulling the nightgown down. he stood up and you fell into his arms slightly, “god-“ you panted, “oh my god.” you were in the limbo of pure pleasure, and george kissed your forehead, “go to bed now.”
you wanted to protest, but the heaviness of your eyelids was hard to ignore, and so you kissed him, george biting your lip gently, “i exercised enough of my self control today.” he quipped. you tipped your head back for a small laugh, “next time i catch you in those farmer george trousers..” you trailed off, fingering at his collar.
george nibbled on your lip again and called the guards, “leave now before i keep you here all night.” he gripped the plush of your ass and you hissed, “as if i wouldn’t like that?”
brimsley cleared his throat and you quieted, “goodnight.” you bid him a smile and left, brimsley a close foot behind.
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