#king George and reader smut

[daughterofyore]

hiii !! loved your george post your writing absolutely amazing.. i was wondering if you could write about george and readers honeymoon or george fucking reader on even days (intense smut and angst i beg)

thank you anon who I definitely don’t know- ;) I’ll do two different stories for you, one for the honeymoon and one for even days :)

Honey Sweet.

King George x f!reader

[[Queen Charlotte (netflix)]]

category; heavy smut, fluff

wc; 2,783

a/n; You and King George have been friends for years, playfully teasing each other and sneaking improper meetings with each other. You marry and your honeymoon is very, very spicy. The naughtiness you both tried to tame flares.

!!W!!;; nsfw, light bondage, virgin, degradation, praise kink, lowk rough sex, gagging, breeding kink

The wedding had been a grand affair. Lavish, sprayed in the finest jewels and freshest flowers. All those of importance in attendance. Anyone who was someone sat along the gallery and watched as you walked up the aisle. Your train felt miles long, the skirts of your wedding dress billowed around you as you traveled up the aisle. You could see him, standing at the altar. Your first time seeing him since your secret rendezvous in the garden. He looked, spectacular. You admired him, devilish smile grinning down at you. You swore his eyes were glazed as he watched you approach.

When you finally stepped onto the altar he took your hands in his, he whispered a gentle “You’re beautiful.” Before turning to face the Bishop. The pair hearing the bishops words but not really listening. The tension between the pair of you was palpable. You watched him in your peripheral, a smile creeping onto the corners of his lips. A man of mischief, it seemed.

“I now proclaim you man and wife, King and Queen of the United Kingdom’s.” The bishop smiled, looking between the pair of you as you both turned to face each other. “You may kiss your Queen, sire.” George smiled down at you, grinning from ear to ear. How lucky were you to marry the love of your life? Your childhood best friend? The man you truly, utterly adored. George stepped close to you, holding your hands close to his heart.

“I love you.” He whispered, loud enough for only you to hear. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. Quickly before you could register what had happened he bit your lip, sly enough nobody else could notice it. You withheld a yelp, looking at him with slightly widened eyes. “That’s a hint for what’s to come later.” He smirked down at you, squeezing your hands as you turned to face your court. The Ton rose, applauds erupting in a cacophony of celebrations. The pair of you strode down the aisle, hand in hand, united before all.

You entered Birmingham House, fresh into your honeymoon respite. The house staff applaud you as you entered, and George thanked them gratefully. You nodded and thanked them, the pair of you beelining for the grand stair case. Red carpet and flowers from the reception lining the bannisters. George leaned down to your ear, whispering “I would run up these stairs right now with you in my arms if I could, but your wedding dress is much too heavy for me.” You chuckled, looking up at him. “You look ravishing in it, I must say.” His grin widened, you couldn’t help but scoff at his flattery.

“And you, my dear husband look delicious in this white and gold uniform.” George bit his lip, looking like he could devour you this very moment if given the chance. He would, once you were in your chambers.

“I cant wait to rip that beautiful dress off of you.” You felt butterflies erupt into flight in your stomach, your knees almost buckling. “But for now, I’ll admire your strength in carrying the thing.” He stopped at the stairs. He stood behind you, waving handmaidens away as he scooped up your train and skirts, lifting the weight so you could climb the stairs. “First act of marital duty, help my wife to bed in her wedding dress.” The pair of you laughed, climbing the stairs in tandem. The staff admired the pair of you, if this was your first night they were sure the pair of you, were a match made in heaven.

George swung open the doors to the chambers. A crackling fire blazed in the hearth, a grand ordained varnished mahogany four poster bed sits at the far centre wall. Curtains drape across its corners, and of course the room is themed in the famous royal reds. The moment the doors closed behind you, George dropped your dress, turning you around to face him. “I’ve been wanting to devour you the moment I saw you at the bottom of the aisle.” He slipped his fingers beneath the lacy sleeves in your shoulders. “But I have had to wait, and now, my dear wife, I need your attention.” You gulped, your core ablaze. He stood before you, breathing deep as if to calm himself. “I must ask you, I knew we have had our own improper dealings…” he was referring to all the times the pair of you slipped away in gardens, never going the full mile but, playful kisses, bold touches were most certainly exchanged. But never did you expose your bodies or go a step too far. You were friends first, then this romantic attraction had grown. And now here it was, in full display as you stood before each other. Wedding rings brand new and heavy, the sexual tension pulsating between you. “Are you comfortable with going the whole way tonight?” You looked up at him, through your lashes and sucked in a breath.

“I’m ready for anything if it is with you George.” He smiled, immediately leaning down and pressing his lips to yours. His kiss was feverish, desperate nearly. He yearned for your attention, your body. He had controlled himself for so, so long. He had desired you from the moment the pair of you had met and now it was finally coming to fruition. He slipped an arm around your waist, pressing you into his front. He licked your lips, nipping at them gentle. He sucked the tiny sting away, before finally slipping his tongue against yours, dancing around your mouth. Your breath escaped you, gasping against his kiss as he explored you. He took it as an invitation to delve deeper, gently guiding you backwards to the bed.

He lay you out like a feast. Bracing himself over you with a hand each side of your head, he lowered himself down to kiss you again. He brought his head to your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin where your neck and shoulder combined. Your skin popped out of his mouth with a wet smack, and he grinned. “Marked as my wife, I think I’ll do that more often.” You smirked you at him, wrapping your hands behind his neck.

“You dirty thing you.” You chuckled, guiding him back to your lips to kiss him again. He pulled you up, kneeling onto the bed and stepping around you, undoing the various buttons and ribbons with meticulous care. Ever so slowly he undid each fasten, achingly slow and you felt the fiery need in your core grow. Once you were free he came to stand in front of you, pulling you up as he slipped hands beneath the sleeves and pulled down the dress. Teasingly dragging the fabric over your skin and watching it fall from your body. You were adorned in lacy white lingerie, specifically for this moment. The dress fell to the floor, piled at your feet. The white garter around your thigh squeezing your flesh. He sucked in a shaky breath as he admired you, drinking in the sight before him.

“Oh the things I will do to you tonight my queen.” Without another word he ripped his own suit off, throwing the shirt to the side and yanking his trousers down till he stood in briefs. He guided you back to the bed, laying you down and crawling on top of you once more. He pulled you up till you lay completely on its mattress, then he began to turn his attention to your breasts. He grabbed the corset, yanking at the ribbons and pulling it off of you. Your breasts fell free, without a moments hesitation his mouth latched to your nipple, sucking and grazing his teeth over it. Your fingers snaked through his hair, tugging slightly. Your leg raised to wrap around his waist. He groped your other breasts in his hand, massaging it, squeezing and pulling gently. He turned his attention to the other nipple, leaving the other swollen and puffy. He brought his fingers to it as he sucked the other, pinching your nipple and causing you to squirm from the sensitivity. He chuckled against your skin, loving your reaction. The soft skin was heaven for him, this was perfection. You were perfection. He could not imagine himself in any other reality than this one, right now.

His lips left your nipple with a pop, and he licked a trail to your stomach. Kissing you lovingly and snaking his way to your waist. He toyed with the hem of your panties, playing with them as he looked up to you. “Ready my dear?” You nodded, gasping a quick breathless yes as he pressed two fingers to your slit. Rubbing the fabric between them and savouring your juices as they soaked it. He bit the hem of your underwear, dragging it down over your thighs and off your legs. He took it from his mouth, gently turning you over and bringing your hands behind your back. So smoothly he created a makeshift handcuff with the lacy white fabric, tying your hands behind your back. He rolled you back over, spreading your legs and diving into your cunt.

You squirmed beneath him, trying to pull away. He only yanked you closer to him, holding you still as he explored your folds. Licking long lazy lines up your centre, tasting you. He reached your clit, immediately beginning to lick and suck it. You arched your back, unable to contain your ecstasy. Moans escaping you as he played with you. He brought a finger up, inserting it agonisingly slow and working it in and out of you. Feeling you widen and soak his hand, he stuck in a second, then a third. He pumped his hand in and out of you, curling his fingers to reach that particular spot that made you cry out his name. Your moans rang through the room, your hands clawed at his head, simultaneously begging for him to continue and stop. He never slowed his pace, keeping steady rhythm in playing with your clit and pumping his fingers into you. “Oh George you’re going to- to make me cum!” You could barely speak between your moans, yet you felt him smile against you. He didn’t miss a beat, working you towards that orgasm. It was your undoing when he placed his other hand on your swollen clit, rubbing it fast and without mercy.

“Cum for me darling, show me what a good girl you are.” You cried out beneath him, his touch electrifying. The orgasm ripped through you, and he continue his ministrations throughout. Riding it out for you, leaving you a pile of mush and sweat. Breathing heavy. He grinned down at you, watching you catch your breath. “We are far from done my dear, I still have to put a baby in you.” You swore it was almost your undoing again, before he climbed off the bed and stood at its edge. He grabbed your thighs, pulling you off the bed with great care and guiding you to your knees. He pulled off his briefs, admiring his handy work at your makeshift handcuffs. “Show me what a good slut you are, wife. Suck me dry.” His cock stood hard and tall, he pressed it against your lips. You licked a slow line from its base to its tip, George moaned above you.

You took him in your mouth, sucking the tip and only taking him half way into your mouth. His size made it hard to full take him, so you made up for it in sucking him hard and licking his tip as beads of precum leaked. He looked down at you, grabbing a handful of your hair and guiding your head up and down on his dick. He began to face fuck you, creating a steady rhythm of in and out. Working his way deeper into your throat each time. “Such a pretty little slut aren’t you wife? Sucking my cock like this.” He admired the way your tits jiggled with each thrust he pushed into you. Without warning, he pushed himself into you to the hilt, his balls against your chin. “Take it, take it like a good girl.” Your toes curled, gagging on his cock as your eyes watered. He pulled out allowing you to catch your breath, before slamming back in. He repeated this over and over again, choking you on the sheer size of his cock. He was a moaning mess above you, muttering ‘yes, yes’ with each thrust.

“Oh I’m going to cum, drink it all wife. Don’t let a drop go to waste.” He thrust into you three more times until finally, it was his undoing. He came long strings of cum into the back of your throat, forcing you to gulp it down or choke and gag. He watched you swallow, admiring you and how pretty you looked. “My beautiful little slut, drinking my cum so eagerly.” Once he had finished he pulled out, leaving you gasping for air. He let go of his grip in your hair and picked you up, walking to a desk in the corner. With one hand he swiped the contents to the ground, grabbing the panties tied around your wrists he lay you across the table, ass in the air and your breasts pressing into the smooth cold mahogany. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to stand my dear.” You could hear the grin in his voice, this side of George was something you hadn’t expected, but you loved it. You wanted more of it. You needed him, every inch of him.

He spread your legs with his foot, then grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them for a clear view of your cunt. He pushed two fingers inside you, lubing them up before quickly pumping his cock. He lined the tip with your entrance. You could feel the head of it slipping inside, he slowly entered, letting you adjust to his size. He stayed pushing in till he was completely inside you. He waited until he felt you adjust, then slowly pulled out. He gritted out behind closed teeth how tight you were, how wet you were. Your moans and pleads of him to fuck you pushed him to the edge. He knew you were accustomed to his size, so without warning he pounded into you. Shoving you up the table and a resounding clap ricocheted off the walls.

“Fuck George, yes!” You cried, your front flush with the wood. He pulled out and slammed into you again. He kept your legs spread, yet held onto the panties tied around your wrists and used them to hold you in position. He fucked you relentlessly, moaning above you as he pounded into your pussy.

“Oh fuck, you delicious heavenly thing. My wife, taking my cock like a good slut.” He rammed himself into you again, picking up the pace and without mercy slammed himself into you. His balls slapped against your clit, it was overstimulating. “You look so pretty like this, bent over my desk, bare to me and being fucked so brutally.” He pounded into you with each word, not giving you a moments rest. “I’m going to cum in you, you will look so beautiful while you grow our heir inside you.” This realisation fuelled him, and as you cried out his name he slammed himself into you to the hilt, over and over again.

“Fucking hell I’m going to cum!” You yelled out, followed by a chorus of moans and pleas. He smiled at you, watching you rock back and forth on the desk with each thrust.

“Cum for me pretty slut.” He said as he reached a hand around your thigh and rubbed at your clit. It was your undoing, you released and a moan so loud escaped you. George muttered a ‘fuck, yes’ and suddenly you could feel a pool of warmth growing in core. His seed spilled into you, filling you. He stayed inside you, breathing deeply for a moment. The pair of you could barely catch your breath, stars dancing in your eyes from the level of ecstasy you had just reached.

George lifted you with such gentle care, he stayed inside you, but guided you to the bed. He lay down and placed you above him, he kept himself inserted into your weeping cunt. “I refuse to let any leak out my lovely wife.” He smirked at you, but you couldn’t help but kiss him.

“If this is how we fuck my love, we will have a lot of babies.”

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[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”.

#king george iii #king George bridgerton #bridgerton smut #king George iii bridgerton #king George iii smut #queen charlotte #king George smut #king george x reader

[ghostfacd]

THE KING AND HIS QUEEN, — king george iii

pairing: king george iii x fem!queen!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Very well, you may kiss the bride.”

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

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

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

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

“Yes, my king?”

“Please, just George.”

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

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

“Of course my king,”

“George.” He corrects.

“Apologies, it was out of habit.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes mummy!” Edward grins excitedly.

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

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

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[neo-novaa]

marital duties

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re still not doing it right.”

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

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

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

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

you dive in, wrist deep—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“brimsley.” you grumble.

“reynolds.” he mutters. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #king george iii #king george iii bridgerton #king george iii x reader #king george smut #bridgerton smut #bridgerton netflix #king george #king george x reader #netflix queen charlotte #✧. ┊ bridgerton !

[maelialuv]

A Farmer's Friend. a Bridgerton fanfic <3

part one: A Chance Encounter

Summary: division brings unity. secrecy creates infatuation. a king's venture into the real world reveals desire.

Warnings: slow burn! strangers to friends to lovers! (Charlotte does not exist) smut! cold showers are on me.

Wordcount: 3.4K

The country side , to you, was heaven on earth. The far roaming hills, the deep valleys. The wide expanse of nothing but lush green fields. There was truly nothing more beautiful.

Your father's farm, to you, was the most beautiful of all. Located at the farthest edge of the county, miles and miles away from the city of London, it was a haven of tall grass, fruitful crops and rich orchards. That is where you spent most of your time, perched between the trunk and wide branches of a tall apple tree in the deepest part of your family's gardens. Far away from the bustling farm house, the uproar of live stock and the erratic, but loving, nature of your home.

From the moment the sun rose over the hills and danced across your face in the morning, to the moment it tucked itself into the valley at night, you were out in the fields. Tucked away indoors, you found yourself claustrophobic. Cased in, stir crazy and a tad hysterical. From a young age, your parents had to heard you inside at the end of a day much like the sheep dogs would heard the lambs back into their pens. It was no different, even as you approached adulthood.

You had your back to the trunk of a tree, a book clutched in one hand and an apple - freshly plucked from the branch above you- in the other, when you caught sight of one of the stable boys chasing after your father in the field ahead of you.

A man of great strength and pride, your father took his work in the fields very seriously. Even after the death of his own father, he was back shearing sheep after just two days. This is why it confused you ever so much , brows furrowed in a frown, to see your father drop his shears at once in front of the stable boy and clutch his chest. The pair raced down the field, sprinting in the direction of the house with the dogs trailing behind them in a flurry of brown and grey and white.

You took a pensive bite of the apple, crunching deliberately. 'Whatever is the matter?' you thought. 'What is the meaning of such fuss?' You tried desperately to get back to your book, the words of the author falling on distracted thoughts as your mind pondered such a reaction from your father. You snapped your book shut with a huff, annoyed and now positively rabid with curiosity.

John, an Orcher in his late fifties, was plucking apples from a tree just next to yours. You peered your head over to him. "John," you called, "have you any reason for father's fuss with the stable boy?"

John's face paled, almost frightfully white, at your question. He took his cap off with the type of remorse one shows with deep apology. "I'm terribly sorry, madam. I thought all the children were aware." You quirked a brow at his words, irritated that the farms people still saw you as one of the children despite being the eldest daughter in the house. His voice was gruff and gravely, years of shouting at yardsmen wearing on his vocal chords. "There is to be a royal visit, madam. Today."

Your eyebrows shot up so fast , you wondered for a moment if they were still on your face. "A royal visit? Here?" The Dowager Princess had not been out in the country since the passing of the late King. Your brows furrowed in deep confusion. "Whatever for?"

John shrugged his shoulders earnestly.

"Lord knows but I, madam. Some sort of review of the farmland, but that's between the King and his advisors."

"The King?" you squawked. You hiked your skirt up, throwing your legs over the branch and jumping down. You stalked to the bottom of the ladder John was standing on. "The King is coming here?"

In all your eighteen years, you'd only ever seen one monarch. Even so, it was a painting of His late Majesty. All you knew of the current King was that he made no visits to the towns, nor galas or balls. He had been labelled somewhat a recluse of a man. You wondered how that could be healthy for such an old person. At least, you assumed he was old. The previous king had died aged seventy and two, so this king must have been creeping into his late fifties now.

"Yes, madam." John said. "Your father has been called now, to prepare. He is due to arrive soon."

Your feet sprang into action, galloping down the aisle of the orchard at lightening speed as you raced toward the direction of the house. You never cared for pompous displays, or the royal family as a whole, very much at all. But today was different. The king himself was visiting your home. Your fields, your valleys and your hills. You felt oddly protective. As if this inspection was to be one with an insulting conclusion. You reassured yourself that they would see the beauty in your home. In the sway of the grassy hills in the wind.

Knowing your mother would not let you close enough to see even the Royal carriage make its way through the wooden gates of your home, you rounded the corner of the brown farm house and clambered your way up the large oak tree in the middle of the drive way. From high above in the branches, you would not be seen by your mother - as she so preferred. She yearned for a daughter more like the ones her sisters had. Lady like and proper and ones that smile at every pleasing farmer their mothers set them up with.

Your mother was disappointed in the lack of girlishness in you. She was displeased in your fascination with reading, and your taking to the outdoors. She was put off by the closeness between you and your father, finding it strange that the two of you could be friends as well as father and daughter. She found your desire to spend all day outdoors odd, and you found her desire to marry a farmer whilst hating farms to be odd in return.

You gripped on to the tallest branches, peering through leaves in the hopes of seeing the gleams of gold as the carriage approached. You saw your father and the farmer boys line up in front of the door below, and your mother and younger brothers waited just behind them. In the distance, you heard a low thrumming sound. It got louder, and seemingly closer, as more seconds ticked by. You realised, as you heard the clop clop clop noise, that it was the sound of horses' hooves on the dirt tracks as the carriage came into view.

The carriage halted in front of your door, and your father outstretched his hand to an older gentlemen in a plush blue suit. Though your fathers clothes- an old grey shirt and black trousers- were not as elegant, he looked just as regal as he shook hands with the stranger, who you assumed to be the King. He had greying hair, curled into ringlets by his side. There were several other men beside him, ranging from young to old to very old.

You craned your neck to hear their voices, a chorus of low hums and stiff lipped compliments from the old man you saw to be the king. Several minutes ticked by, boredom creeping in as you swung your legs back and forth over the branch, before the group of men finally split to tour the farm land with your father. You rejoiced, a grumble in your belly making any words they said inconsequential. You began your decent from the tree.

With scraped palms and knees, you made it to the ground with a thud. A successful spying , you thought as you wiped your hands on the skirt of your dress. Your monologing was interrupted by the stifled chuckle of a man behind you. You whipped round, narrowing your eyes at the man. Dressed in a simple white shirt and the same black field trousers as your father, he looked to be a fielder himself.

"Hello," he said, voice even and light. He stood with his hands behind his back, polite and effortlessly straight. He was young, younger than the rest of the group you assumed he had been standing with. He must have been no more than three years older than you, as his cheeks still had the faintest roundness to them.

"What are you doing?" he asked when you did not say anything.

You knew your eyes were wide, those of someone caught. There was no use in lying , nor excusing. This man had watched you climb down the tree, from where you had spied. You outstretched your hands, as if stating the obvious. "I was climbing down. From the tree."

"From the tree?"

"Yes, from the tree."

"From that tree?" the man asked, voice teasing and smile irritating as he pointed to the tall oak you had previously been perched in.

"Yes, that tree."

"Whatever for?" He placed his hands behind his back once more, slowly pacing around you in a circle.

"I was hungry, you see." You deadpanned.

"Ah," he affirmed, "and you did not bring food when you climbed up the tree." He was enjoying teasing you, as the smirk on his face grew larger at your squirming. "Or simply not enough."

"Well," you trailed off, waiting for the man to introduce himself to you.

"Forgive me," he said, outstretching a hand. "I am George."

"Well George," you continued. "Usually the trees I climb have some sort of fruit or such for me to eat while I climb, or lounge, or read. This is not my typical tree to climb." You explained.

"And I suppose you have a typical tree?" His face was oddly gleeful, as if this conversation with you - a stranger- was the best part of his day. His smile was wide, showing teeth.

"Yes, I do."

"Which is?" He asked, stepping closer toward you. His smirk was a teasing grin now.

"The apple tree," you stated, that protectiveness creeping back into your tone. "at the farthest end of the orchard."

"Now," he said, voice lilted with mock impress, "I must see this tree, that you so fondly and regularly climb." His voice was a stage whisper.

"Alas, I cannot." You teased back, some what enjoying the banter yourself. "I do not simply show my tree to strangers."

"Ah, but I am not a stranger," he said, closer again now. "I am just George." He stuck his hand out again, waiting for you to shake it. Hesitantly, you did. "I would be honoured to see your tree."

"Do you not have business to attend to?" You asked, gesturing in the direction the other men and the Royal herd had walked in. George shook his head, waving off your remark.

"They are fine themselves. They have no use for my agreements here and questions there." He said. "And even so, if I were to re-join them now," he took another small step closer to you, eyes searching in the distance, "my mind would think of nothing but this apple tree at the farthest end of the orchard."

You smiled at the man as he looked down at you, and felt the strangest urge to lead him by the hand to your sacred reading spot. Something about George made you trust him, utterly and completely, as if you'd known him your whole life. As if you'd run through the fields with him as children, and he knew where the tree was already.

"All right, just George."

A bright, down right contagious smile etched itself on to his face. You couldn't help but smile just as brightly.

The two of you strode side by side through the back field of the farm, chatting idly as you lead him to the orchard. George told you he was a keen farmer himself, but his family bound him to the city. "Why don't you just leave them?" you asked as you opened the large wooden field gate for him.

George paused, leaning on the gate with both arms crossed. "It is not that simple," he said, his face contort in a frown. "I am obliged to stay there. It is a duty, of sorts." He looked around at the tall grass, the wild flowers that bloomed in the field at his feet. "If it were up to me, I would spend all my time in the country."

You felt immensely sorry for him. The thought of being away from the country for more than a day put a nasty pit in your stomach. Gently, you placed your hand on his arm. He looked up at you with glum eyes. You gave him your best reassuring smile as you squeezed his arm lightly. He smiled back at you.

You fell back into stride with one another after that. George asked about your family, and you told him about your father and your three younger sisters. He asked where they were, and you let out a haughty laugh. "They cower at the sight of mud. They are cooped inside with my mother, embroidering or learning the pianoforte or some other nonsense."

"You see no value in these tasks, then?" George asked with a small smirk.

"I see no point, given where we live. What use have I for musical impress or intricate sewing when I spend my time outdoors?" You paused your walking, gesturing to the cows grazing near by. "Any man I encounter in these parts will be as impressed by my pianoforte as those cows."

"Ah, I see." George chuckled to himself. "You are to be a spinster then." You whipped round to face him, annoyance turning your brows into a tight v shape. George laughed again.

"For a stranger you are certainly bold."

"I do not hear a defence."

"No, I am not to be a spinster." You crossed your arms, uncrossing them when George cocked his head to the side slightly. You must have looked ridiculous, like an petulant, spoilt child. You huffed.

"I am not to be a spinster. At least not by intention." You both began walking again, rounding the corner to the long aisle of the orchard. "There," you said, pointing to your tree at the very end.

You turned when George remained silent. His mouth was agape slightly, brown eyes wide and almost honey in the mid day sun. "Beautiful," he sighed out.

It caught you off guard, the strange desire to lead him by the hand to your tree and show him the very best branches. The way he looked at your favourite spot with such awe made you near desperate to share it with him. You had to restrain yourself from reaching out and touching his hand that was inches from yours at your side. You shook your head slightly, as if a jitter would rid of of such peculiar feelings. "Come along, then."

George walked obediently at your side, keeping perfect pace with you. As you walked, he couldn't help but notice the sway of your hair in the light breeze, the way it framed your face so gently. Or the patches of freckles that spotted the bridge of your nose, or the subtle fullness of your bottom lip, how it was slightly larger than the top.

"You said you are not to be a spinster by choice," he began as you reached the foot of the tree. "Whatever do you mean?"

"What I mean is," you said as you reached up to a near branch, pulling yourself up with little struggle, "no man here is in need of a wife, and I am in no need for an elderly husband." You frowned when George laughed again. "You must stop that!" You cried.

"Stop what?" He smiled through his teeth again.

"Laughing at me!"

"I am not laughing at you, forgive me." He said, reaching up to the same branch and - just as you had- hauled him self up with ease. "I simply find it hard to believe no one here is in need of a wife."

"Everyone is already married, or too old, or far too young." You deadpanned. "I do not want to marry a frail old man."

"Let me rephrase," George began. He reached across you, and for a moment you thought he was going to touch your cheek. You sucked in a nervous breath. He plucked an apple that was hanging just above you ear. "I find it hard to believe no one here wants you for a wife."

You found it hard to form words, stuttering over a response. George bit into his apple , smugness radiating off of him in reams.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence for a moment, your backs leaning against the trunk of the tree while your legs stretched out next to each other. "Do you sit out here all day?" George asked softly, turning his head toward you. His breath fanned over your face slightly. You nodded.

"Most days," you sighed contently. "I am usually the one that goes into the towns if needed. Otherwise, I am left alone to sit here as I please." You looked out as the sheep roamed the field ahead of you.

George rested his head back against the trunk of the tree.

"I am envious of you, truly." He said, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You turned your head to face him. Your shoulders were brushing against each other with every breath.

"You are welcome to come here," you said, in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "You can bring a book, and you may sit here for as long as you like, whenever you please. Whenever your family allows you to be in the country."

This close to him, you noticed the flecks of gold in George's eyes. The small freckle above his eye brow. The rosiness of his cheeks. His words echoed in your head.

'I find it hard to believe no one wants you for a wife."

In the distance, you heard the ruckus of the men returning to the front of the house. George shot up. You shot up with him.

"I must go," he said hurriedly. He swung his legs over the branch and jumped off. As you moved to do the same, you saw him waiting on the ground with his hands outstretched. He was helping you down. You reached a hand out to him, and he pulled you down. Expecting a thud, you noticed he had steadied you with a hand on your waist. "I wish I could stay longer, I truly do. Alas, they will run like chickens without heads if I am not back soon."

You wished to find some poetic goodbye, but all you could muster was a soft sigh. "Will you be back?" His hand was still gripping yours.

George chuckled breathily.

"Of course," he said, as if it was obvious. "I must bring a book and see if this really is the best spot for reading."

The voices in the distance got louder, calling George's name now. He looked over his shoulder, then back to you. "I am back in the country in two weeks time. May I see you then?"

You smiled at his politeness, hoping your hasty nod came across as friendly and not desperate. "Of course."

"Splendid."

He brought your hand to his lips then, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles. "It has been a pleasure, madam." He said with a gentlemanly bow.

He turned to walk away then, and you felt as though the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your feet were glued to the ground, unable to move you from that same spot.

"Oh," George called from a distance. "The inspection went fantastically. Your farm shall have a wonderful review." He grinned, all boyish and joyful, before turning back and sprinting in the direction of the loud voices.

His words only sunk in after he'd rounded the corner gate, and you nearly collapsed onto a log.

Not only had you spent your afternoon with a total stranger, telling him your deepest thoughts and secrets, scandalously close should a gossiping eye see it.

You'd just spent your afternoon with the King of England.

#queen charlotte #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #queen charlotte netflix #king george #king george x reader #king george bridgerton #corey mylchreest #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #period piece #slow burn #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #strangers to friends #fluff #smut #fanfic #bridgerton queen charlotte

[homesickturner]

Take My Hand || KING GEORGE

pairing : king George ||| x reader

summary : George helps calm you in your moment of need, just as you do for him.

warnings : reader experiences a panic attack.

AN : I wrote this on a personal experience so please no negative comments <3 it was so therapeutic to write so if you enjoyed please let me know and I would love to write similar things in future. Requests are open so please feel free to drop an ask <3

———

You’d been completely avoiding your stress that had been building up in the days leading up to your and George’s coronation. Everything had been moving so fast you had not even had the time to process all that had been happening.

Between moving to a new country, leaving your family and having to adjust to the royal way of life, you had not even had a moment alone in the past 7 days.

You realized as your ladies in waiting were preparing you for breakfast on Coronation Day that you were quite nervous. You’d battled with panic attacks since your childhood and today was certainly not a good day to have one.

Never the less, you tried your best to chat with Brimsley as you ate breakfast to distract yourself.

“What did you say the color scheme was for today Brimsley,” you asked. You could feel your hands beginning to shake, the first sign of an attack.

“Gold and red, your majesty. It is to match the crowns.”

You intended on replying to Brimsley but had to put your cutlery down as you were beginning to feel quite ill. At that moment, George and Reynolds also joined you in the room.

“Your majesty are you quite alright,” Brimsley asked you.

“I’m quite well Brimsley thank you.” George answered him unaware.

You brought your hand to your chest, feeling as though there was no air going to your lungs. You were feeling an overwhelming pain in your chest.

“Y/N…my love what is wrong,” George asked frantically, kneeled down to your level where you were sat. Your vision was more blurred that usual and his voice sounded far away.

Your heart was beating a million miles an hour and you felt like you were about to faint at any moment.

Your head was pounding and you felt like you were spiraling out of control.

Your breath came in short wheezes as the nerves that had been building in you overtook your body.

“YN your alright we’re all here with you.” You heard George say. He’d taken your trembling hand and interlocked it with his. His other hand stroking your cheek soothingly.

You could hear whispering around you discussing a doctor. “N-no doctor.” You choked out. You could hear some shuffling around you, what you assumed was most of the guards leaving you, George, Brimsley and Reynolds in private.

Eventually your vision cleared slightly, although your attack had not yet run its course.

George tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Darling, I need you to take some deep breaths. Can you do that for me?.”

You began your best effort to take deep breaths along with George and eventually they became easier.

“George…I cannot do this. I cannot- I do not have it in me to rule a country.” You began to cry, your whole body still shaking.

“You can Y/N. You are so strong, we’re in this together. You and me.”

“Yes,” you let out a shaky breath.

A few minutes of deep breaths and George’s continued encouragement and you were starting to feel better.

“George, I am so sorry-.”

“Do not apologize Y/N. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“Does her majesty require assistance of any kind? A doctor or perhaps a glass a water.” Brimsley asked.

“A doctor will not be needed although a glass of water would be splendid thank you Brimsley.”

“My love, as you sure you are quite alright,” George asked.

“Yes George, I am feeling well.” You smiled.

The coronation was able to go ahead as planned and George was very supportive throughout the day.

That was the day that you knew you and George would have a very happy marriage together.

#king george x reader #king george bridgerton #king george smut #king george iii #george and charlotte #queen charlotte #queen charlotte x king george #bridgerton #brimsley #Reynolds #brimsley and reynolds

[girlogies]

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

#bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton fanfiction #queen charlotte #king george iii #anthony bridgerton #kate sharma #cheezbot

[draco-tyler-mikes-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!

#bridgerton #king george iii #king george bridgerton #king george iii x y/n #king george iii x reader #king george #king george iii smut #king george fluff #king george smut #young king george #young king george iii x reader #young king george iii smut #young king george iii #queen charlotte #queen charlotte bridgerton

[sebsgirl71479]

I need more stories with this man. I've read all of them so far and I need more hehehe.

#cory mylchreest #king george iii #king george bridgerton #king george iii smut #king george x reader

[mynamesaaliyah]

Hey my names Aaliyah and I write fanfics.

I write for:

• ArthurTV

• AngryGinge

• George Clarkey

• All F1 Drivers

• Theburntchip (Josh)

• Calfreezy

• Colby Brock

• Sharky

• Niko Omilana

• King Kenny

• Memeulous

I write:

• Smut

• Angst

• Fluff

#youtuber smut #lando norris smut #theburntchip x reader #lando norris x reader #logan sargeant x reader #f1 social media au #lewis hamilton smut #arthurtv x reader #calfreezy x reader #charles leclerc x reader #george clarkey x reader #youtuber x reader #sharky x reader #niko omilana x reader #king kenny x reader #memeulous x reader

[faatxma]

Upcoming King George III Stories:

Meadow Garden III ✔️

Rearranged Hearts

Bon Voyage

I’m good at keep promises

Night Owls

You and Me

Your Equal?

#bridgerton #king george iii #king george x reader #queen charlotte #king george bridgerton #fanfiction #bridgertonedit #bridgerton fanfiction #king george smut

[daughterofyore]

How would George behave while you were pregnant?

a/n;; a little headcannon about how George would act while you, his queen were pregnant. summary;; George caring for you and how I believe he would treat you throughout your queenly pregnancy.

contents;; sickening amount of fluff, almost smothering amount of love, pregnancy, birth, !!W!!;; vomiting

wc;; 566 music inspo;; falling in love

In the early stages of your pregnancy he would be an excited mess. Constantly asking if you were sure you were pregnant, just because he wanted to make sure he was being blessed with a little baby.

When a doctor would arrive to confirm the pregnancy, he would be at your side. Peppering your knuckles and cheek with kisses. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear, only loud enough for you to hear.

He would demand you move to his room so that he may take care of you. He wouldn’t trust the staff to care for you and would adopt the jobs of helping you dress, get baths etc. Nothing would stop him caring for his wife and the mother of his child.

The morning sickness would break his heart, seeing you convulsing above a toilet bowl. He would be by your side in moments, in fact if he was busy and heard you weren’t feeling well he’d sprint to be by your side.

He’d hold your hair back as you are sick, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. Giving you gentle encouragement.

“That’s it dearest, you’ll be okay.”

“I am here my love.”

“Once this has passed I’ll wrap you up and lay with you.”

He’d be an absolute fiend when it came to baths. He’d be so doting, carefully filling the bath with warm water and topping it off with different (safe) dried flowers.

He’d wash you, allowing you to just relax.

He’d constantly be touching your growing belly, speaking to the baby growing inside.

“Hello my little darling. I am so excited to meet you.”

At night he’d hold you close, even in his sleep he’d be reaching for you and pulling you to be flush with him. His hand would almost always be splayed across your stomach.

He’d pay special attention to foods which made you sick and the cravings. He’d take it upon himself to go and retrieve your cravings from the kitchen, even going as far as too learn how to make them. He’d take lessons with the chef to make sure they tasted great.

Anything you wanted, whenever you wanted you can be sure he’d be making it happen.

He’d set up a comfy nook in the observatory, as the pair of you lay down he’d point to different stars and tell you their names. He’d trace constellations with his index finger.

When it came time to give birth he’d race to your side, probably coming from a meeting or a kingly duty.

If anyone tried to stop him from entering the room he’d diminish them to nothing, ripping into them. How dare they try to prevent him from being by your side, he’d push by them and deal with them later.

As you would be in labour he’d be on the bed at your side, holding you and brushing your hair out of your face. He would encourage you to no end.

He’d be nervous, but extremely excited to see his little family grow together.

He would be so proud of you, pressing little kisses to your forehead. His heart would break at seeing you in pain, though.

When it would be all said and done and the baby would cry, he’d cradle it as he lay beside you. His heart swelling with love at seeing his perfect child and beautiful wife at his side.

#bridgerton #bridgerton series #bridgerton smut #bridgerton spoilers #king george bridgerton #king george iii #king george x f!reader #king george x reader #queen charlotte #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton men #bridgerton fic #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton family

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Marital acts

Pairing- breeding!kink King George x Reader

Summary - no plot just breeding.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Take me outside” “yes, your majesty”

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

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

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

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

“Your Majesty, the queen”

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

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

“Y!N!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I believe so”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“George! George!”

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

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

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

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

“Me too George, me too”.

#king george iii #king george bridgerton #king george iii x reader #king george smut #king george iii bridgerton #king george x reader #king george iii smut #bridgerton smut #netflix queen charlotte

[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.

#king george iii imagines #king george smut #king george x reader #king george bridgerton #king george #king george iii smut #king george iii x reader #king george iii #bridgerton #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x female reader #queen charlotte bridgerton #bridgerton x you #king george iii bridgerton #queen charlotte: a bridgerton story

[neo-novaa]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh, he also whimpers 🤗

#bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #king george iii #king george iii bridgerton #king george x reader #bridgerton smut #king george smut #king george iii x reader #king george iii smut #✧. ┊ bridgerton !

[inlovewithpandora]

Hi cuties!!

Behind the scenes I’m working on fics and I want to know what fandoms y’all would like to see more for and what characters within that fandom. I want to make sure I’m catering my writing/posting to what you guys would like see!

Please vote the poll for the fandom of your choice and send the characters (also the type of fic; smut,fluff, angst, etc. if you would like) you would like to see in my ask box!

If you want to see works for multiple fandoms feel free to say that when sending an ask as well since you can only choose one on the poll.

I would really love and appreciate if you participate in this because it will help me know what you’re interested in, thank you in advance💕!!

#❖ — 🗳️: 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑽𝑶𝑻𝑬 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻𝑺.! #avatar the way of water #avatar fanfiction #avatar fandom #atwow #atwow x y/n #atwow x you #atsv spiderman #atsv smut #atsv fandom #atsv x y/n #atsv x reader #outer banks smut #outer banks fluff #outer banks pogues #outer banks fics #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks rafe #outer banks jj #king george bridgerton #bridgerton fandom #queen charlotte a bridgerton story #daphne bridgerton