#netflix queen charlotte

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Marital acts

Pairing- breeding!kink King George x Reader

Summary - no plot just breeding.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, your majesty?”

“Take me outside” “yes, your majesty”

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

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

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

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

“Your Majesty, the queen”

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

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

“Y!N!”

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

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

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

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

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

“I believe so”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“George! George!”

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

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

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

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

“Me too George, me too”.

[neo-novaa]

marital duties

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

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

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

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

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

“you’re still not doing it right.”

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

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

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

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

you dive in, wrist deep—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“brimsley.” you grumble.

“reynolds.” he mutters. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[misalpav]

yeah bc who was going to warn me that a 1700s period tv drama was gonna have a gay, forbidden lover, enemies to lovers, footmen trope that was going to drive me insane? WHO???

[onefail-at-atime]

Queen Charlotte is better than the original Bridgerton.

There, I said it.

[jwalsana]

Love.

Watched Queen Charlotte 3 days ago and I can't stop thinking about how it portrayed love in its purest form. We met Charlotte and George for the first time back in Bridgerton and when they were going through one of their bad days. Back then I used to think that George lost his marbles much later into the marriage and Charlotte just had to step up and put up with it. It made watching Queen Charlotte so much more beautiful cause she has always loved him for who he really was.

Charlotte and George had their good days and their bad ones but they always had each other and that's love. I once read that love is a choice. Every morning you have a choice to just wake up and leave. Or you could stay. When you choose to stay, you've made your choice. You've chosen to love.

I would once again like to rant about the ending and how well written it was. I still remember myself sitting on my bed at 3 am crying but with a smile on my face cause that was the happiest and saddest ending one could get. I love how they switched between their old and younger selves, how Charlotte knew how to deal with George when was on his bad days through all those years. That's love. At its finest form. And i love them for it. Love isn't a fairy tale with a happily ever after. Love is hard. Love is full of sacrifices. But it is the most beautiful thing in the world.

"You did not go over the wall"

"No, George. I did not go over the wall"

[dancingdorito]

do whatever y'all want, but in my opinion shipping people you have a parasocial relationship with is toxic and unhealthy. you get a glimpse into celebrities lives and that doesn't mean you know them or can know their true personality or what they like.

i say this especially to the bridgerton fandom, who thinks that anyone with chemistry apparently has to have a romantic understanding, instead of being entirely platonic.

i saw so many people "shipping" india and corey when corey has a girlfriend. like yes they have chemistry, but why can't that be friendly and platonic?

obviously i know nothing about their lives, but some people express affection in friendships differently than others. and interpreting their actions in interviews as romantic when you have no idea what goes on in their lives when they are not in front of a camera, is just childish. i know im personally very physically affectionate with my friends, and it has nothing to do with romantic feelings.

it's normal to feel a connection to celebrities and their personalities on screen, but acting like that is real is delusional. keep that shit to yourself.

so stop acting like you know their lives, like they owe you something. they don't. don't pressure people you don't know into admitting something you have no right to know. if you have opinions on people and their relationships, keep that to yourself. because posting shit on the internet DOES in fact have real life consequences, despite what many people believe.

[inappropriate-dance-breaks]

Okay fanfic writers imma need some fics about old Reynolds and Brimsley because I’m currently sobbing uncontrollably over the fact that they can only be together when George and Charlotte are so I need someone to fix it for me

[aesthetic--mood]

Queen Charlotte Aesthetic

[lordansketil]

oh my god, they are making a queen charlotte bridgerton show. and like... why? why can't we just have actual biopic. why can't we have a biopic that shows that this was a woman who didn't take sugar in her tea to support abolition, but was part of an institution that fundamentally profited from slavery? why can't we talk about the joyful young woman who was forced to obey her rigid husband's rules, have 15 children, and could be both kind and cruel. just make a fantasy show. just. make. a. fantasy. show. i am tired.

[phillycheesesteakcore]

The creators of Queen Charlotte were cowards for not making young Lady Danbury also use a cane.

[sea-owl]

So I haven't watched the Queen Charlotte show yet because I don't got Netflix at the moment but I've been seeing all the clips on tiktok so that's fine.

Just saw the clip about Violet's garden being in bloom, and if you know anything about me, you know exactly which gutter my mind went to.

I was right, she's just as bad as her children. They are her karma.

[sugarcoatedstarkey]

Might fuck around and write smut for king George 🥴

[the-reading-owl]

I don't know if the whole "wow, she's from Germany, how exotic" line in Queen Charlotte was sarcastic or not because the fact is they were literally all German

[misalpav]

brimsley x reynolds spinoff show when???

[clockwrkpendrxgon]

we don’t talk enough about how BRILLIANT Golda’s facial expressions are in that last scene—ESPECIALLY IN THAT LAST SCENE like it takes a shit ton of talent and chemistry for two entirely different people to make you feel like they’re one, they’re actually the same person. but Golda and India brilliantly did that, and god Golda’s acting made me sob in that scene. so. damn. hard. everything about that show is so well done down to the smallest details and i still can’t move on from it.

[jazokkay]

Queen Charlotte: A Bridgerton Story took my heart, smashed it, tore it apart, made it cry, and loved it tenderly all in one sitting.

i am broken.