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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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Could I request Anthony bridgerton x wife angst where they have an argument/fight because he is stressed so he takes his anger out on her so she ends up giving him the silent treatment while he basically begs for her forgiveness

Ahh I love this! I hope you like it :)

Anthony Bridgerton X Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 855

"Dear, remember we have tea with your mama tomorrow, and then I shall head to the modiste and return in time to oversee some floral arrangements for the ball this coming week." You adjusted your glove as you barged into Anthony's office. It had been a tedious morning in the Bridgerton household, seeing as most of Anthony's siblings were staying with the two of you for the next two weeks. "As hosts, we have a lot to see to in order for everything to run as smoothly as possible." Anthony scoffed as you finished speaking, making you glance at him with furrowed brows.

"Can I not have a moment alone without you berating every last ounce of my nerves." The sternness in Anthony's voice sent a shiver down your spine and had your stomach plunging with discomfort. His hands rubbed his temples as he stood from his chair.

"Is a mere greeting from your wife too much to bear? Or am I simply missing something?" you asked, suddenly treading cautiously. Anthony's ill mood put you at unease; it was rather unusual for him to return from a day's work like this.

"You care to call that a greeting? It is nothing but an aggravating list of endless tasks which have nothing to do with me." Anthony snapped.

"I am simply performing my duties as the Viscountess."

"Inadequately, I might add." His remark pierced through your heart with an unexpected strength. Tears brimmed your eyes as you attempted to blink them away, unwilling to show how he'd just taken your heart in his palm and crushed it under the weight of his words.

"Then I guess that settles it." You cleared your throat. "I apologize, my lord. It is clear now I am not performing as I should as Viscountess. I will see to that immediately." Your tone was as cold as the words felt on your tongue. Unsure of how long you could maintain your composure before him, you quickly bowed and exited the office, prepared to let the pain and tears bubbling inside escape the moment you were out of sight.

Days passed with a lingering sense of dread since your argument with Anthony. More so, days filled with silence amongst you, your gaze averted and avoiding your husband at every opportunity. Meanwhile, Anthony's apprehension grew with every one of his feeble attempts to win you back, hitting a dead end. Endless gifts were sent to your shared home, a flower awaited you along every afternoon tea with a heartfelt note, and even showering you with compliments day in and day out. But still, there was nothing. You had spoken less than a handful of words to him in the past week; even when he tried to take your hand or slip an arm around your waist as he typically did, you acted as if his touch had scorched you. Anthony couldn't take it anymore; it was driving him mad.

He hastily strode through the hall just outside the main room, and there you were—a picture of grace adorned with the most enchanting dress. His breath caught in his throat, as it did every time he saw you. Anthony quickened his steps to catch up before taking your hand and dragging you into a hallway closet nearby. Your startled gasp was quickly contained when you realized it was your husband in the dimly lit closet. You attempted to exit before he stopped you.

"Wait." His hand covered yours, slamming the closet door shut once again. Anthony pleaded with you until you surrendered enough to step back and listen. "I cannot bear the distance between us any longer. I apologize immensely for my behavior. It was unacceptable; I understand that now." He sighed. "The crushing weight of my duties as of late has been taking a toll, and although that is no excuse for the way I spoke to you nor the things I said, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." Your eyes locked on one another, and your expression softened just enough for Anthony to step closer and place a hand at your hip, pressing his forehead against yours. "You are my Viscountess—the woman I chose to stand by my side for the rest of our lives." Is that all you truly were to him? Your gaze cast downward and back to his in a small defeat as his words from that day sunk in all over again. Anthony lifted your chin to look at him once again. "Though that is not all you are. Not to me. You are the love of my life. My person. The love I hold in my heart for you knows no bounds. We are meant for each other in every way a person can be meant for another. I will do everything in my power to assure your forgiveness." Your smile widened as you reveled in this moment with him.

"I can think of a number of ways you can make it up to me." Anthony's hands wrapped tighter around you as he placed a kiss on your lips.

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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Reprisal

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: Turnabout is fair play. Sequel to Acting Up.

Warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, exhibitionism, semi-public blowjob, deepthroat, swallowing, brief d/s dynamics, brief mention of window sex.

Word Count: 2.5k

Author's Note: So, I was in the mood to write a filthy blowjob fic, and this has been sitting in my drafts for more than a year. It was inspired by an ask from the lovely @queen-of-the-misfit-toys, so it is dedicated to them. Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

Your toes tingle from crouching in the same awkward position for what feels like the last… eternity. But revenge is a dish best served not so much cold, as when least expected.

You hear him warmly greet all his guests out in the hallway, then beckon them towards the dining room. He sits at the head of the table, just a few inches in front of you. All is unfolding exactly as you expect so far.

You are so very grateful no one kicks you as they take their places, the convivial buzz of conversation muffled under the thick drape of tablecloth fabric. You shift slightly to get more comfortable, knowing you must wait patiently a while longer; your window of opportunity will arise after their light two-course supper.

Just two weeks ago, your husband had mercilessly made you orgasm silently in front of his entire family as he fingered you to oblivion at dinner. It is now his turn.

As Smith serves the men dessert, you place a firm hand on Benedict’sknee when you hear him complete a sentence, and his whole leg jolts. It’s the only forewarning you give him before running both hands heavily up over his muscular thighs and grabbing for his resting cock. You feel both his legs jerk, and a hand grabs your wrist forcefully. Next to you, a spoon clatters loudly to the floor, smattering a streak of blackcurrant across the pristine oak floor.

“Butterfingers!” He jests.

Suddenly, his face appears under the drape of cloth and morphs into one of surprise as he sees you. With a raised eyebrow, you shove a little note into his hand, you came prepared.

Do not give anything away. Now we shall see how well you play this game, my love.

You watch him quickly scan the note, and then his eyes cut back to you, trepidation, challenge, and adoration—a beguiling cocktail. Realising if he stays under too long, his guests will suspect something; he straightens but not before a loving touch to your chin.

“Could not find the blasted thing,” he jokes in explanation. “Smith, please, could you bring me a new spoon?”

As soon as the conversation begins again, you reach to squeeze him again, and he helpfully pushes forward in his chair and splays his legs wider.

Well played, darling.

You can feel a burgeoning swelling there, and you reach for the buttons at his hip, wanting to dive right in. As soon as you peel open the front of his trousers, his cock springs free, already half-erect. The fact he never seems to wear underwear makes you smirk—your wonderful bohemian whore of a husband.

You wrap a hand around him, and you can tell from the way his hips surge how much he appreciates it. Slowly, teasingly, you strengthen your grip. He probably suspects you will just use your hands, as he did to you. You cannot wait to see how he will react when you use your mouth on him. You intend to suck him deep and hard, not wanting to be bettered in this game of one-upmanship.

You shuffle forward, and a hand reaches under the table to pat your shoulder affectionately.

Without preamble, you suckle his tip into your mouth and feel his whole body tense in surprise, his thigh muscles tensing, and his fingers dig into your shoulder reflexively. Smirking to yourself, you swirl your tongue around his head as his hand travels along the top of your shoulder to cup the side of your neck, his thumb swiping a few tender strokes just under your ear.

You feel the vibration through his body as he talks, calling upon his friend to regale everyone with tales from his recent travels. “Spare no details!” he appends with an accommodating chuckle, relaxing into his chair and pushing his hips towards you, sliding deeper into your mouth as he does.

You appreciate his smarts for that decision - he can appear to be listening intently as a gracious host but not having to lead any conversation.

Taking a deep breath, you sink, taking half of his cock into your mouth, revelling in the contours as they pass through your lips and the twitch of his fingers in the hair behind your ear, his warm palm cupping your jaw. So you push a little lower, as far as you can, without fear of making a noise - you do not want to give anything away by choking yourself on him, as you love to do—that will have to wait for another time, in private. This is more of a challenge for him than anything.

You still, to let him feel the heat of your mouth, enticingly dabbing your tongue over his length, before pulling up and concentrating on his sensitive head, sucking on his frenulum and letting his foreskin roll between your lips, a slight twisting action to your movements that you know he loves. He coughs, causing his cock to jerk into the roof of your mouth, his fingers sliding tentatively around the back of your head as if planning to direct your movements.

No, no, I decide what happens here, dearest.

You grab his hand away and hold it on his thigh instead, lacing your fingers with his as you lower again, his fingertips curling between your knuckles, telling you exactly how much he is enjoying this, even as he remains mostly silent and still, his friend still holding court around the table above.

“I did miss my wife, though,” the man ripostes as his story ends. “Her womanly delights were a wonderful homecoming.”

There is a bawdy round of laughter at that.

“And what of you, Bridgerton?’ you hear one ask as you change your motion, his tip glancing the back of your mouth with each deep pull.

“What of me?” his voice a touch rough.

“You are not long married. How is that sweet, innocent, young thing?” the same man continues.

You have to tamp the urge to giggle at the irony of being called innocent while kneeling between your husband's splayed legs, mere inches from his unsuspecting friends, sucking his cock so thoroughly that your jaw aches deliciously.

If only they knew…

“She is a wonder, and I love her more than life itself,” Benedict praises after clearing his throat. A warmth blooms behind your ribs as his sweet words, such a contradiction to the utter debauchery of your actions at this very moment.

“Spoken like a true poet,” another man mocks affably. “Come now, we speak of earthier matters tonight, Bridgerton. There are no such delicate ears to overhear after all.”

You want to roll your eyes at their prurient line of talk. Even as you slide up and down on Benedict’s cock, moving faster now, wanting to truly put him to the test, as he did you, something in the way he tilts his hips fractionally tells you all your need to know.

“As I said, my wife is a wonder,” he repeats with finality, gritting his teeth.

To his friends, it likely seems he is attempting to arrest the topic out of decorum, not the fact he is struggling with composure, which you can detect from the tinge of desperation, the twitch in his legs, the harsh grip of his hand on yours.

As talk moves on to gambling around the table, the volume increases as the men splinter into side conversations, an opportune moment for you to be a touch daring. Sinking to his root, allowing his solid, hot tip to plug your throat, emitting a tiny moan as you do, buzzing into his pelvis. Benedict’s entire body stiffens, and you feel a crest of victory as he fights not to make a noise; his body at war, wanting to thrust, to grab, to do anything but sit still and take it.

Tougher than it looks, is it not, darling husband?

You want to chuckle, but your mouth is too full of him, a salty bead of precum trickling down your throat as you ease off to allow him a moment of reprieve and yourself a deep, calming breath. Tilting your head sideways and running suckling kisses over the underside of his cock, all the way to his sac that you lap as your other hand wraps around his tip and gives soft teasing squeezes.

His hand untangles from yours on his leg and wraps around your other hand, attempting to halt your motions, silently asking for clemency which you ignore, batting him away. He gave you no such accommodation in front of his own mother, no less.

But you take pity and decide not to string it out for much longer, his friends loud now the wine bottles are empty, one beginning to sing tunelessly, and another joining in a few bars later. Using both of your hands wound around his lower shaft, constricting in a wave motion, and your mouth sucking forcefully on his head. Encourage him to break, to come, wanting that taste to flood your mouth, a heavy throbbing sensation between your legs that is your arousal. You will need him to fuck you ruthlessly once his entertaining duties are over. Perhaps facedown right over this very table or, preferably, in your bedroom window, your nipples pebbled against the cool glass as he takes you roughly from behind, kneeling on the bench seat… the exhibitionist streak that he provokes in you flaring.

The images tumbling through your mind have you feral, sucking ferociously, pushing his thighs out wider to allow yourself greater access, crowding into him, knowing that with the level of noise in the room now, you can make some sound yourself. The back of your head glancing the underside of the table as you bob rapidly, moaning lightly, drooling on the length of his cock, your saliva pooling into his trousers as you mercilessly rise and sink, breathing heavily through your nose. You sense the tension in his legs, his vice-like grip on the table edge, every cell of his being in pure ecstasy and the agony of not being able to show it. He is usually so very vocal and lavish in his praise when you do this.

“Come for me, my love, give it to me.” you gargle around him, his legs dancing now in a staccato quake.

Even if he cannot decipher your words, he can feel the echo over his velvet skin, and suddenly, both of his hands dive under the table and grip around your ears, finger grasping your scalp. Pushing you deep onto his cock, his whole being seeming to curl around you, his knees lifting high near your shoulders as you feel his sac tighten against your chin, a strong ripple between your lips and then a salty wave in your mouth as he comes hard.

“Are you alright, Bridgerton?” a concerned voice rings out as you swallow victoriously, then slackening your mouth to allow him to slip out, moving to lick him clean as he quivers under your tender ministrations.

“Sorry, gentleman,” his voice is ragged, harsh. “I felt a wave of nausea; perhaps a lunch of venison and oysters was not advisable. But do not fear, I'm sure it was a fleeting moment of discomfort,” he lies to cover his actions, holding one hand up in a reassuring gesture as his other hand strokes your cheek, your face resting upon his clothed thigh, leaning into his doting fingers, akin to a cat. “However, perhaps it is time we sojourned to the parlour,” he announces as you carefully rebutton his trousers. “‘Tis where I keep my best liquors, after all!!”

You hear a rousing call of agreement, all around the sound of chairs scraping as they stand and drift towards the exit.

“I will be there, anon, gentlemen; I must speak to my valet first,” Benedict fibs, shifting in his seat but not standing.

As the chorus of voices fades, he pushes out his chair and holds up the tablecloth, staring at you slack-jawed.

“At a loss for words, husband?” you smirk, raising a coquettish eyebrow as he assists you in crawling out from under the table.

“The most delightful revenge, darling wife…” he responds, his eyes glittering. “But the use of your mouth is an escalation. I rather think a declaration of war, not a mere battle.” The very beguiling threat of more challenges to come makes your stomach flip in anticipation.

‘“Promises promises…Sir,” you goad with a wink, dusting off your dress and standing up, hoping the invocation of his play title will spark something in him.

A warm hand clamps firmly around the nape of your neck, making you gasp excitedly.

“Insolence does not go unpunished, little one,” he warns lowly.

There it is.

“Yes, Sir,” your stance instantly submissive, swaying into him. “Perhaps, you could fuck me against our bedroom window later? So the world can see to whom I belong?”

He growls softly, and his nostrils flare as he crowds into you. “That can certainly be arranged.”

“I look forward to it, Sir.” you smile, always enjoying when he behaves domineering.

However, with a wink, his grip releases, his mien turning gentler, nuzzling your cheek.

“I am quite the luckiest man alive. I love you, darling,” he breathes.

“And I you, husband. Now, go entertain your guests. I will see you later,” you offer, kissing his jaw as you drift towards the door, wrapped in each other's arms.

“I’d rather retire to our bedchamber with you,” he sighs wistfully into your temple.

“I shall be there waiting for you,” you vow. “Naked, except for the jewels you have given me. Thinking of you. Touching myself…” you paint a vivid picture to tempt and tease him.

You squeal as he suddenly picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, striding purposefully into the hallway, the sounds of the men in the room across the hall unmistakable.

“Smith,” Benedict addresses the man standing dutifully by the front door. “Please tell my guests they are welcome to stay but that I was, in fact, mistaken. I have taken indeed ill with a dreaded stomach bug and must retire from their company immediately,” he pronounces.

You laugh at his lie, and he slaps your bottom for good measure.

“Will that be all, sir?” His trusty valet replies, tone world-weary.

“Please escort them out the rear entrance when they are done carousing and arrange for their carriages to pick them up in the mews. I do not wish the neighbours to witness their drunken behaviour,” he rejoinders as he begins to climb the stairs with you still dangling over his shoulder.

Giggling, you wave to Smith as you go, who merely raises three fingers dryly in recognition—he has walked in upon you fucking you in every room of the house since your marriage; this is decidedly mundane.

And as Benedict fulfils your request sometime later - pounding into you so hard that the window rattles in its frame, you clinging to the wooden sash as you stare out across the treetops of the handsome square - you cannot help but wonder if the request to send his friends home another way was not entirely for your benefit.

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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hey! may I request some wedding day fluff/smut?? 🤭

HI MY LOVE <3 Thank you so so much for requesting & I apologize for taking so long with this one but I hope you like it!

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut: oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering

Word Count: 763

Wisteria and Lilacs adorned the entryways and every staircase of Aubrey Hall. Where guests once overflowed the corridors with endless drinks and food, now silence in its place. The positively exquisite wedding dress from the modiste was now replaced with a delicate nightgown tailored to perfection. Stars adorned the night sky, each twinkle gleaming down upon the balcony of the lavish home. Tranquility became you as you overlooked the gardens just outside your bedroom. The joyous celebration that was your wedding day may have come to an end, but the night brought an entirely new thrill. Distant footsteps echoed in the room, returning you to reality and away from your train of thought as your husband approached from behind you. Firm hands anchored at the base of your hips, making you instinctively lean back onto his chest. He kissed your shoulder and the tender skin of your neck, lulling you deeper into his embrace.

"Mhm." Anthony sighed while tracing your bare skin with his fingertips. "Now, just how did I get so lucky?" A grin spreads on your face, goosebumps rising with every pass of his touch as you turn around in his hold. His lips instantly molded to yours, moving in sync with one another, the hunger and anticipation growing with every swipe of his tongue. Anthony's grip tightened, pulling you flush against his body until there was not an ounce of space between you. His mouth worked its way from your lips and along your neckline, paving the way toward your chest. Taking his time to taste every inch of you he could. Anthony wasted no time in tearing down your nightgown to reveal yourself to him and teasing a nipple with his tongue, then moving to the other. Every movement was as if he was taking his time to worship your body. Your eyes screwed shut, and your head tilted back, giving him more access before you felt his lips leave you entirely. Your skin grew cold without the warmth of his lips as your eyes widened at the sight before you. Anthony was already on his knees, his hands feverishly lifting your nightgown, your delicate lace underwear already soaked, driving him mad with want.

"Anthony, please. I want you." You attempted to draw him back up to your lips, but it was of no use. His gaze darkened as it set on your core.

"And you'll have me. But I must taste you first." He began removing the remaining barriers of clothing. Now bare before him, Anthony hooked one of your legs around his shoulder and caressed your inner thighs. His eager tongue traced your slit, making you arch your back toward him. It wasn't long before his fingers dug into the outer flesh of your thighs as he devoured you like a man starved. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he took your clit into the warmth of his mouth while teasing you with his tongue. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs. Your breath caught when Anthony plunged one of his fingers into your dripping core. Never pulling his lips away, he added a second and eventually a third finger, stretching you further, curling them inside you. Anthony was insatiable, consuming you as if you were his last meal on earth. Your eyes filled with tears, struggling to hold back the lewd moans threatening to escape you as he pumped his fingers in and out of you.

Unable to restrain yourself any longer, your hands tangled in his hair as your orgasm hits you hard and fast. Your hips bucked, and moans echoed off the empty hallways, shuddering under him as your vision went white from the overwhelming pleasure taking over your body. Anthony drank up every bit you were willing to give him as he worked you through your orgasm. Reveling in your pleasure as if it was his own before rising back to his feet.

"Now." You were pliant in his arms as he accentuated every word with a kiss on your neck. "I plan to have pleasure overtake you at least twice more before I can properly have you. I simply cannot have my wife anything less than satisfied on our wedding night."

"I assure you I am more than satisfied." Your breathy reply and blissed-out look were more than enough to bring a cocky smirk to his handsome face.

"We have a long night ahead of us, my love." Anthony took your hand and led you into the bedroom of the main hallways, with your laughter filling the air between you.

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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Anthony bridgerton x wife!reader. Maybe his wife has quite a childlike innocence that the women of the ton take to be weirdness and they tend to isolate her but she never knows why. Maybe they’re newly married and she decides to invite some of the ladies for tea but no one shows up and she’s upset because she’s confused and Anthony comforts her and joins her for tea instead to cheer her up.

Hey! Thank you so much for requesting this & for being so patient! This wasn't meant to be this long but it sort of took on a life of its own. I hope you enjoy it <3

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none just comfort :)

Word Count: 1.1K

Every square inch of Aubrey Hall's walls flourished with the season's most stunning flowers, the gardens lush as far as the eye could see. The breeze did little to cool you off from the summer heat as you sat under the tent, sipping your afternoon tea overlooking the meadow alongside Violet Bridgerton. It had been a tedious day of tending to various duties around the household, and you were expecting company from some ladies of society later that evening. It seemed your schedule had been considerably more than full since your wedding a few months ago. Rather frankly, you were just as exhausted as you were delighted in your new marriage to the Viscount. Keeping up with the Bridgertons all while being the latest lady of the house proved to be quite the task. Sure, your introverted preferences to stay within the walls of your home with a good book or spend quiet time in the gardens studying the plants were different than the interests of the ladies of the ton. However, you always tried your very best to keep everyone surrounding you in good spirits while performing your obligations, always looking toward Violet for approval, wanting to stay within your welcome. She was the Viscountess before you, after all. You could only dream of living up to her in your new position. Overseeing every small detail runs smoothly across your home, not to mention the impending weight on your shoulders due to the responsibility of Anthony's sisters coming out in the following seasons. You didn't know how long you could keep this facade up if you were being honest with yourself. But you had standards to upkeep, ways in which the Viscountess held her own beside her husband, and the last thing you ever wanted to do was let Anthony or his family down.

The sun blared upon the exquisitely green grass; surrounding the field on the outer edges were countless trees with blossoming flowers overflowing the gardens. Springtime at Aubrey Hall, indeed, was like no other. You turned your attention toward the Pall Mall game. Your husband stood before his siblings, mumbling something you were sure was some tease towards Eloise, making you smirk. Anthony turned toward the field and adjusted his grip on the mallet before making his final shot. A generous mix of disappointed grumbles and cheers erupted from the handful of Bridgertons as he made the final winning score. Half of them scrambled to debate the shot while the other half stood by, giggling toward them.

Anthony left his siblings to argue among themselves over the game he now reigned as champion over. Eloise was clearly bitter and left feeling she had been made a mockery over this loss after spending her spare time practicing for this very moment. Anthony placed his mallet on the stand alongside the others and approached you. He graciously extended his hand toward you, motioning you to go with him before the both of you bid goodbye to his mama and slipped out of sight and into the grand home.

"Eloise is taking quite hard, isn't she?" You said as he guided you through the doors. "She must have thought her practice would allow her to best you once and for all."

"Having hopes of besting her older yet clearly more skilled brother? Unlikely, my love." Anthony taunted, evidently still on a high from his victory. You stood in the main room while Anthony poured himself a drink, beckoning you to join him before you politely declined.

"I cannot. I am having the ladies over for tea shortly, and I cannot be anything less than perfection for their arrival." Anthony wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you in for a brief kiss. Enough to have you wrapping your arms around his neck and yearning for more as he pulled away just enough for your noses to brush tenderly against one another.

"No moment in time exists in which you are not perfection, my love." Anthony's smile warmed your heart as you relaxed against him. "They will love you as much as I do; I am sure of it." His validation and loving gaze melted any lingering stresses still dancing around in your head. All that was left was to check off some last-minute preparations, and the tea could commence.

The late afternoon sun cast dispersed shadows across the cobblestone path. Anthony strolled into his home since returning from a lengthy afternoon of business meetings and running several errands around town. Anthony had hoped to come home to you excitedly telling him of your afternoon tea with the ladies of the ton. Instead, he found the halls seemed eerily calm for this time of day. He entered the main room and caught you sitting quietly on one of the sofas in a far corner. You curled up beside the unlit fireplace, twirling your fingers anxiously in your lap when you felt Anthony take a seat beside you.

"Sweetheart." Anthony paused before placing his hand in your lap. You didn't know if it was for comfort or to stop you from fidgeting. His warmth was welcome either way. "Is something wrong?" He cautiously asked.

"No one came." The words strained from your throat. "I know your mama and sisters left this morning on a day's travel, but I hoped-." Your voice broke before resuming. "I hoped at least someone would have-." Tears brimmed your eyes, and scattered tears stained across the top of your dress, some still falling down your cheeks. Anthony's hand cupped your face, his thumb gently preventing the tears from their continued flow. He took your hands in his and placed a lingering kiss on your knuckles before standing before you and offering you his hand. Without another word, Anthony dragged you along the halls and out into the gardens. Various flowers bloomed around you, and he brought you to one of the rarer flowers now flourishing on the property.

"What are we doing here?" You questioned while admiring the intricate patterns in which the vine had taken, the beautiful springtime flora temporarily making you forget the catastrophe of this afternoon. Anthony stepped closer from behind, arms wrapping around you as he whispered in your ear.

"It is when I am gazing upon the most exquisitely beautiful flower in the garden that I think of you." Tears again swelled inside you, but for a different reason this time. "The day will come when the world will see the beauty I am fortunate enough to hold near every day. In the meantime, I get you all to myself, hm?" The warmth and comfort of his words and presence enveloped you, brushing away the day's worries and woes with an ease only he possessed. His voice was a soothing balm for your soul that always had a way of convincing you everything would be okay. Because when you were around Anthony, you knew it would be.

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton smut #bridgerton season 2

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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Hiii, do you write angst?

Hi nonny! Yes I do! :)

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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Dearest gentle reader...

I am opening up requests again! I have two more to get around to from last time but I'm excited to see any new ones sent it :)

Please take a look at my request guidelines before submitting. Anything from smut to fluff is welcome and if you have any questions please do not hesitate to message me

I also wanted to thank you for the love you've shown my fics, writing is truly such an escape for me and your comments & reblogs make my day every time.

I hope everyone is doing well <3

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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Hey! Thank you so much for requesting this & for being so patient! This wasn't meant to be this long but it sort of took on a life of its own. I hope you enjoy it <3

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none just comfort :)

Word Count: 1.1K

"Eloise is taking quite hard, isn't she?" You said as he guided you through the doors. "She must have thought her practice would allow her to best you once and for all."

#anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton smut #anthony bridgerton x y/n #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton season 2

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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Lady Kathani Bridgerton Season 3, Episode 1: Out of the Shadows

#screaming #crying #throwing up #i missed them

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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hey! may I request some wedding day fluff/smut?? 🤭

HI MY LOVE <3 Thank you so so much for requesting & I apologize for taking so long with this one but I hope you like it!

Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut: oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering

Word Count: 763

"Anthony, please. I want you." You attempted to draw him back up to your lips, but it was of no use. His gaze darkened as it set on your core.

"I assure you I am more than satisfied." Your breathy reply and blissed-out look were more than enough to bring a cocky smirk to his handsome face.

"We have a long night ahead of us, my love." Anthony took your hand and led you into the bedroom of the main hallways, with your laughter filling the air between you.

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whispersoftheton · 1 month

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BRIDGERTON Season 3 Kanthony | Sneak Peek

#i will never be okay again

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whispersoftheton · 2 months

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write for yourself. put your fantasies on paper. no one knows what you are writing. no one knows what's in your head. no one is going to write it for you. if you don't write down your ideas they will disappear. if you are too scared to write your thoughts then don't write, try something different. if writing is the only way, get to writing. no one else's opinion matters. no one else's opinion will ever matter

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whispersoftheton · 2 months

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4 w/anthony bridgerton

Prompts: An accidental brush of lips followed by a pause and going back for another, on purpose.

Warnings: Covert smooches; friends-to-lovers; Anthony Bridgerton's Infamous Competitive Streak

Being old friends of the Bridgertons meant that you and your family were often being invited to spend time at Aubrey Hall, and this weekend was no different. When you'd awoken on Saturday to pouring rain, you'd assumed that any and all frivolity would be foregone, but Gregory had proposed a game of hide and seek. With his pleading smile, you and his siblings had been powerless to say no. You'd gone to a spare bedroom, getting into a large, deep armoire and tucking yourself in among the spare dresses and coats.

You shifted slightly, already growing warm among the fabrics, your heart roaring in your ears as you fought to hold still. You peered through the crack in the wardrobe doors, leaning away as you spotted movement outside. He couldn't have found you already—

You yelped as the wardrobe door was flung open, then groaned as Anthony came into focus.

"Do you mind?" You hissed.

"Not at all. You're in my spot."

"If this was your spot, you would've been here when I chose it."

"I always hide here when we play hide and seek."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose?"

"They always assume I'll move, and I do not. Now, if you would please find somewhere else."

"I will not! I got here first!"

"READY OR NOT, HERE I COME!"

The two of you balked at Gregory's excited yell. Anthony turned, nudging you back and shushing you as you began to argue again.

"If you do not keep quiet, you'll ruin both our chances," Anthony whispered. You pushed an irritated huff out through your nose, but made no other argument. The two of you fell into testy silence, listening for Gregory's footsteps. Your stomach flipped as Anthony shifted slightly, his chest and knuckles brushing against yours. You'd never been so close to him, or to any man, unless you were dancing.

You glanced nervously toward Anthony, then away as you found his gaze searching your face. You hurriedly turned your head again, looking through the door's crack to spot what you could of the room.

"...Anything?" Anthony murmured.

"I can't tell."

"Let me see."

Anthony moved in before you could lean away, his nose lightly bumping yours. His breath, then his lips brushed yours. The two of you froze, falling silent enough to hear a pin drop. You took in his face, thrilling as you found his gaze heavy on your lips. You swept your tongue across your lower lip, chest fluttering as you saw Anthony swallow thickly. You tipped your chin up, swaying into him. Your lips pressed gently against his for a few moments, stomach a flurry of nerves, then excitement as he raised his hand to cup your cheek. You tipped your head to the side, lips parting just enough for your tongue to tease against his.

The sudden thudding of approaching feet made the two of you break your kiss. Anthony gripped your hand, gently nudging you through the clothing and pressing you against the back of the armoire. He raised his finger to his lips, signalling for you to stay quiet before he turned away again. You shifted to the side, ducking your head as you saw light flood the armoire.

"I found you!" Gregory crowed.

"Indeed you did," Anthony chuckles. "Who else have you found?"

"No one, yet."

"Off you go, then."

You heard Gregory scamper off, calling, "I found Anthony!" As he went. You sucked in a soft gasp as the armoire was plunged into darkness again, then watched Anthony shove the clothing aside. He crowded close to you without hesitation, pressing his body against yours.

"What if he comes back?" You breathed, eyes sliding closed as he trailed his nose gently along your cheekbone.

"He won't," He reassured, "Not for quite a while."

You smiled, raising your hands and curling them in his collar.

"Then we ought to enjoy what time we do have."

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whispersoftheton · 2 months

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The Duchess (10)

Anthony Bridgerton x Duchess!reader

Series Summary: After coming into a title you did not expect, you have a chance encounter with a handsome rescuer.

Chapter Summary: Recovery

Word Count: 1,194

A/N: Hope you guys liked the plot twist from the last chapter!!!

Bridgerton Masterlist

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Well, if you were not the talk of the ton before the night had started, you certainly were by the time it had concluded.

In the following days, your injurious fall down the grand staircase within Clyvedon Castle had been made public news not only with the guests in attendance for the ball, but also within society as a whole when the Lady Whistledown made it a point to highlight such drama within her next issue.

Of course, you were unaware of such things as you remained unconscious in the aftermath of it all.

Once the Lady of the House urgently sent for a doctor, the physician arrived in order to tend to your wounds. After announcing that you would wake after some much needed rest, he prescribed a medicine that would help keep you asleep in order to allow you the necessary time to heal.

And while those in ton offered their sympathies for your circumstances, those presently residing at the Duke of Hastings’s country estate could only offer their concern as days passed without you opening your eyes.

By the end of the third day of you lying decidedly asleep in bed, the idea that you would be alright had dwindled from an absolute certainty to a grasping hope.

Establishing a routine in order to keep a level of vigilance, you were comfortingly never left alone for more than a few minutes as each of the Bridgerton’s and Bassets’ alike kept watch over your sleeping form.

On the third night of your third day kept in bed, the current person keeping watch over you was the Viscount himself as he passed the time by reading a book to himself.

While it was not exactly proper for a young man to be in the chambers of a young lady during the evening hours, it was only because of the circumstances that Anthony felt he was the one better qualified to watch over you as you laid injured and defenseless.

But time was moving slowly as he sat with you for the third evening in a row. Turning another page in his book, the Viscount was thinking with a hint of irony that at least his being present in your room would add to your ruse story of becoming engaged.

And as this thought hit, he could not help but to allow his body to deflate with yet another worried sigh. Taking a glance your way first to check you were still sleeping, he quietly pulled out the small box he had been carrying around all week in the days leading up to the ball and opened its lid.

Being met with the betrothal ring his father had once presented to his mother, the eldest Bridgerton son exhaled a remorseful breath as the regret he had been feeling since your fall continued to rise.

The one thought continuously circling around in his head was the idea that maybe, if he had asked the question he hoped he already had the answer to on the night of your injury, then Clyvedon would be in a state of celebration rather than in a state of mourning.

The overly concerned Viscount was attempting to push away the waves of guilt that kept washing over him, but with hindsight being what it was, not seeing this coming meant shame had been his only other constant companion as he kept watch over you within your quarters.

Stationed on a chair in the corner located on the opposite side of the room—for propriety’s sake—the eldest Bridgerton was so caught up in his sorrowful thoughts that he did not hear the sound of rustling coming form your bed.

But he did hear the sound of,

“Ugh, my head…”

Groggily come from your lips as you continued attempting to sit yourself up.

Hurriedly, Anthony was quick to put the ring back in his pocket as he rushed to get up in order to help you back down to the mattress.

“Careful,” he said with concern as he carefully guided you. “You have been unconscious for three days.”

Though your entire expression held nothing but fatigue as you complied with his gentle and unsaid request to lie back down, your eyes immediately became incredulous as you repeatedly said with disbelief,

“Three days? But, that is absurd.”

However, even as you said it, you could not ignore how your mind and body still seemed to crave more needed rest.

Even now, you found that it was difficult to keep your eyes open as the Viscount took a seat on the edge of the bed in order to look you over now that you were awake.

But the shocking news of having been asleep for so long made you all the more determined not to let your eyes close again.

“What happened?” you asked your rescuer while raising a soothing hand to your temple.

“You fell down the stairs and hit your head. The doctor gave you something to help you sleep so you could heal.”

As Anthony said this, something in your mind tried telling you those words were not exactly correct. However, the encroaching headache you felt building made it hard to concentrate on why.

Ignoring the pain, you wryly said in response,

“Ah, that explains the soreness then.”

And attempted to huff a laugh that the Viscount was only too happy to share. However his laugh was filled with relief more than anything else.

“I am glad to see you still have your sense of humor, my Lady.”

Was his reply as he looked at you with a teasing fondness.

When you flashed him a small, but genuine smile from your reclined position on the bed, the Viscount found he could no longer hold in the words he had been craving to say to you in the past few days where you lied unconscious.

“I must apologize to you, your Grace. For I have been addressing you by the wrong title for some time now and I do not believe I can allow it to continue.”

A little alarmed, you cautiously replied in a concerned tone.

“My Anthony…whatever do you mean?”

Reassured by your title for him, the Viscount went on speaking after gently taking one of your hands in his.

“I can no longer address you as ‘my Lady’...”

And before heartbreak could set in at hearing such a thing, he continued with,

“Because you are my Love.”

Looking down at your entwined hands, he quietly finished by saying,

“And all I have been wondering these past few days while you recovered, is if I might be allowed to call you that instead?”

A watery smile began to make its way onto your lips as understanding finally hit you. Squeezing the hand he used to hold yours, you were only too happy to answer with a question of your own.

“If I say yes to your request, may I be allowed to call you that as well?”

Then felt nothing but adoring affection as Anthony smiled your way with a content brightness while nodding his head in response.

And that was the moment you knew your heart was no longer yours.

____________________________________________________________

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whispersoftheton · 2 months

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Pride in a thunderstorm (Reader x Anthony Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @panhoeofmanyfandoms, @venomsvl, @the-uncoordinated-house-cat, @rosecentury, @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne, @vviolynn

Church bells rang as the few last of the ton arrived a church for a Sunday mass. The Bridgerton’s being one of them. All dressed in their Sunday’s best. Violet ran her fingers quickly through Hyacinth’s curls that looked out of place. Francesca noticed Colin’s tie hung sideways as she tapped him against his shoulder. Colin turned confused to her as Francesca pointed at his bow. Colin looking down widened his eyes in a brief panic and started working on his tie. Francesca sighed slapping his hands away so she could adjust it for him. Benedict was chatting with Eloise as they neared the church.

Gregory walking composed by Anthony. Anthony had his hands behind his back as his gaze rose resting on a person amidst the crowd. They were on you while you stood with your parents and many siblings. Four to be exact minus you. Five children in total. All girls of various ages. You stood with your eldest sister Julia. One would say the fairest out of all of you. Lillian and Kitty laughing loudly beyond themselves. The ever so quiet Mabel stood beside your father, looking down. Anthony quickly pulled his gaze away, feeling himself stare to much at you. Good thing you hadn’t noticed it.

All of you got in motion heading into the church. You mother flashed a smile with her fan at the preacher as it made you roll your eyes from embarrassment. Julia and you took a seat on the right side of the church. Julia’s ever so bright smile faded. You let your knuckle brush down her cheek, whispering encouraging words to her. She turned her head to you with a saddened smile. You knew it was a façade to hide her true emotions. One she hardly showed to anyone, too shy for it. Grabbing her hand you moved it to your lap. Mabel came sitting beside you as the rest of your family took a seat on the row behind you.

Lillian still snickering as your mother had to shush them. Your father looking at the preaching stool, waiting for the mass to begin as he didn’t notice the world around him burning. On the other side the Bridgerton’s took a seat. Anthony sitting himself down with Benedict and Hyacinth beside him. Violet sat a row behind with Colin, Eloise, Gregory and Francesca. The preacher went to his stool as the church went silent. All eyes to the front. He began speaking as his voice echoed from the walls. The roofing so high as it bounced his voice around.

You squeezed Julia’s hand tighter knowing just how heartbroken she was from Lord Bingley leaving her hanging. Leaving London without a word after every moment with him was magical. For the first time your sister had felt so in love with anyone. Lord Bingley being just the sweet character she needed. Yet now he had left leaving Julia heartbroken. Unsure what the sudden reason was for his departure in the midst of the social season.

The words of the preacher barely reached you as you were too deep in thoughts. Trying to think of signals you had missed. Something that would indicate that Lord Bingley did not like your sister. No that was out of the question. His affection was as clear as day. He only looked at her, he had no eyes for another. So what could make him leave. Had someone said anything to him? You kept breaking your head over it, thoughts spinning.

From behind you, you heard Lillian yawn and your mother lecture her about it in hushed voices. It made you take a deep breath, wondering why some of your family members were the way that they are. Julia had her head low as your eyes widened. Slowly turning your head to her. Her shoulders moving in shocks. She was sobbing quietly. You barely saw her cry. You wanted to place your hand on her shoulder as she got up. – “Sorry.” – she said to you, making her way for the back.

Keeping her head down so no one could see her tears. – “Julia.” – you whispered worried. Now that she had gotten up, you had a clearer view of the benches across. Amidst them the Bridgerton’s. All their eyes were turned to the front yet one pair was looking away. Staring right back at you. Anthony Bridgerton’s eyes were focused on you rather than the preacher. Suddenly something snapped inside of you. A connection made. You got up yourself taking a run for it.

It all came together like a tide-wave, crushing you underneath it. You left the church heading outside. Outside you panted loud needing air. A rumble sounded in the sky, making you look up. Lifting the hem of your dress up, you ran. Ran to get away from it all. With no destination in mind you just went. Running down the path that led you away from the church. The church grew smaller behind you as the rumbling in the sky continued. Before you knew you felt droplets on your head.

First a few than more. In a matter of minutes it was raining. The hem of your dress mudded. You reached a bridge that went over a stream as you went over it. Going to unknown places. The rumbling got louder as you were drenched. Mostly out of breath. In the distance you saw a pavilion. You decided to run for it running over the grass fields. Your shoes splashing in the squishy earth. Touching the stone of the pavilion you panted loud. Chest rising and falling out of control to steady your breathing.

Everything was wet. Your dress dripping on the dry stone leaving a pattern of wet. Slowly your breathing steadied when you leaned against the stone wall. Glancing to the side, you got startled by a sudden figure. Anthony Bridgerton standing drenched before you. His gaze fixated on you. If one was tentative of them they would see the yearning behind them. – “Miss Y/n.” – Anthony spoke out of breath. Your first reaction was to look down.

Avoiding those charming eyes of his. – “I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer.” – he continued making you slowly lift your head up to him. – “These past months have been a torment.” – he outed. – “I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you.” – he went on without giving you a chance to speak. – “I had to see you.” – he breathed out as you kept staring at him.

Perplexed and full of pride. – “I have fought against my better judgement, my family’s expectations all these things I am willing to put them aside and ask you.” – he kept speaking taking no notice of your feelings or desire to say something back. The prejudice inside of you growing at the arrogance of his attitude. Having no concern to you as he so loudly expressed himself without a warning. – “To end my agony.”

Finally you cut through his words. – “I don’t understand.” – to be clear his rambling was getting difficult to understand where he was going. – “I love you.” – he confessed in a matter of seconds. He fell silent as you could only stare at him in shock. – “Most ardently.” – he added upon your silence. He swallowed nervously, shifting his weight on his feet. – “Please do me the honour of accepting my hand.” – he asked, almost beggingly. Your mind was still spinning trying to process the heavy confessions made in a matter of minutes.

“My lord I…” – you began looking briefly down. – “I appreciate the struggle you have been through and I am very sorry to have caused you pain.” – you answered lifting your gaze back up with a slight hint of attitude. It was something you couldn’t hide away. – “Believe me it was unconsciously done.” – you finished with. The sarcastic undertone clear now. Anthony’s gaze had slightly hardened upon you. – “Is this your reply?” – he asked deeply. – “Yes, my lord.” – you responded immediately. – “Are… are you laughing at me?” – he wanted to know taking a step closer to you.

His posture suddenly hostile and defensive. – “No.” – you said loud. – “Are you rejecting me?” – his voice suddenly more agitated. – “I’m sure that the feelings which, as you’ve told me, have hindered your regard will help you in overcoming it.” – you answered bitsy. Not backing down from his sudden change in character. He took a quick breath with a simple nod. – “Might I ask why, with so little endeavour at civility, I am thus repulsed?” – he wanted to know. – “And I might as well enquire why, with so evident a design of insulting me, you chose to tell me that you liked me against your better judgement!” – you ranted out.

“No believe me…” – Anthony fired back. – “If I was uncivil, then that is some excuse!” – you interrupted him needing it to be your turn to rant to him. – “But I have other reasons! You know I have.” – you exposed to him. – “What reasons?” – Anthony asked visibly confused. You slightly shook your head at the ignorance of him. – “Do you think that anything might tempt me to accept the man who has ruined, perhaps forever, the happiness of a most beloved sister?”

Finally Anthony realized it. He was gawking at you as the realization hit him of his actions. – “Do you deny it, Viscount Bridgerton?” – you asked. Anthony could only stare. – “That you separated a young couple who loved each other, exposing your friend to the centre of the world for caprice and my sister to its derision for disappointed hopes. And involving them both in misery of the acutest kind?” – you ranted needing your anger to be outed. It was all so clear he was the very reason for your sister’s unhappiness. Separating them when they were so clearly in love. How every could you marry such a man.

“I do not deny it.” – Anthony responded clear. His response made you feel disappointed. – “How could you do it?” – feeling yourself get emotional from the heartbreak he has caused your sister. – “Because I believed your sister indifferent to him.” – he explained. – “Indifferent?” – you nearly shouted out in disbelieve. – “I watched them most carefully and realise his attachment was deeper than hers.” - Anthony answered to further explain his actions.

“That is because she is shy.” – you called out to him. – “Bingley, too, is modest and was persuaded she didn’t feel strongly for him.” – he replied loud. – “Because you suggested it!” – you accused. – “I did it for his own good!” – Anthony called back. – “My sister hardly shows her true feelings to me!” – you shouted at him. Anthony was silent, staring at you. His gaze slowly lowering to your mouth.

You smiled half trying to persuade yourself of the silliness of this conversation. That this was the way for Anthony to act so rashly. Because your sister was shy. It was almost laughable. – “I suppose you suspect his fortune had some bearing…” – you began as you just thought about it. – “No! I wouldn’t do your sister the dishonour!” – Anthony shouted back. – “Though it was suggested.”

“What was?” – you answered up most confused. – “It was made perfectly clear that an advantageous marriage…” – he started to explain as you interrupted him rudely. – “Did my sister gave you that impression?” – your voice shrieking a pitch higher. – “No! no!” – Anthony quickly defended. – “No… there was however, I have to admit the matter of your family.” – he went on. – “Our want of connection?” – you yelled at him furious.

Anthony turned his head away slightly vexed or bothered. – “Mister Bingley didn’t seem to vex himself about that!” – you called out to Anthony getting all worked up and thrown back into the discussion. – “No, It was more than that.” – Anthony replied looking back at you. – “How, my lord?” – you asked crossing your arms. – “It was the lack of propriety!” – Anthony confessed loudly. – “Shown by your mother, your three younger sisters, even, on occasions your father.”

The sky rumbled loud behind you as it had not stopped raining behind you. With shock you looked back at him. You knew your family wasn’t the most perfect, but they were still family. Anthony started to notice the impact of his harsh words about your family. – “Forgive me…” – he said in a softer tone. – “You and your sister I must exclude from this.” – he apologized with a soft bow of his head. The two of you were lost in each other’s gaze for some moments.

With a soft breath you felt yourself be drawn to his body. Wanting surprisingly to be closer to him. – “So how will you mend this?” – you offered, not wanting your dearest sister to remain in her unhappiness. – “Mend this?” – Anthony asked bluntly. – “Yes, your actions led to the unhappiness of my beloved sister. Wouldn’t you wish for a righteous when it involves one of your siblings?” – you suggested bringing his family into the matter.

“Well yes…” – Anthony stuttered out, briefly stunned with the ultimatum. – “Then set it right!” – you ordered taking a step closer to him. Anthony neared as well. – “Perhaps these offenses might have been overlooked had not your pride been hurt by my honesty…” – you told him. – “My pride?” – Anthony called out stunned. – “Could you expect me to rejoice in the inferiority of your circumstances?” – He replied getting up in your face.

It was intimidating how close he was to you. – “And those are the words of a gentleman.” – you replied angered at how he was looking down on you. – “From the first moment I met you, your arrogance and conceit, your selfish disdain for the feelings of others…” – you went closer to him, forcing yourself closer to his face as it made him back a bit away. Intimidated by you now. – “made me realize that you were the last man in the world I could ever be prevailed upon to marry!” – you called out with fury at him.

The rumbling went quieter in the background. You were panting a bit from having expressed yourself so openly. Anthony tilted his head a bit letting his gaze go from your eyes to your lips. He hesitated bringing himself closer to you. You felt yourself lean more to him as well. Suddenly yearning with desire. He hesitantly pulled back turning his posture away from you.

It made you exhale loud, shoulders slouching as the moment was broken off. Anthony paused letting his finger brush over his lips. He turned back around as it made you look back up to him. Wondering why he had turned back. He stared right at you. Slightly shifting his posture as a hunger set in his eyes. A more demanding approach as he went back to you. Confused you followed the movement of him, allowing your posture to face him fully. He grabbed for your waist and neck, pressing his lips onto yours.

Your eyes went wide as you did not intended this. His lips kissed your forcefully demanding to be satisfied. Slowly your eyes closed, kissing him with passion back. The rain had stopped leaving a dampness over the meadow. Anthony pushed you up against the stone, continuing to kiss you as if his life depended on it. Every inch of him wanted to love you, loved you. You were kissing him back till you suddenly opened your eyes. Pushing him off you and taking a run for it.

This was inappropriate. You had just declared to this man you could never marry him, yet here you were showing him just how much you wanted him. Then there was the matter of your sister. He was the cause for her unhappiness. You couldn’t this to your sister. Anthony watched you leave, with a deep breath. He touched his lips. The very lips that had kissed yours.

Something he couldn’t believe he had done. He had always been so civil, yet now it appeared his yearning for you took the better hand. He knew right now you wouldn’t want him. So he just had to make amends for the sake of your sister and yours. Hoping his act of kindness would bring you back to him. Where he most desperately wants you to be.

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