#colonel brandon fic

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 1. Chimney Soot [A1]

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Delaford Estate

A/N: IT'S THE FIRST OF DECEMBER AND RICKMAS2023 IS STARTING! 😍👏 We're kicking it off with our sweet Colonel Brandon - tbh it feels like a tradition to start with him now 😂👍 - and I'm so, so, so ready for this year's event to unfold. I have so many stories in my head I hope to write this year and there will be more longer fics (several parts) this year if all goes as planned too! IIIIIIIH I'M SO EXCITED!

Thank you for being here and know that no matter at what time you read my fics I always, always, always love to hear from my readers so even if you're here in 2027 don't hesitate to leave comments if you want to 🥰 I hope my writing shenanigans can spread some joy and warmth up until Christmas Eve and I am so THANKFUL to all who has messaged me through the year about being excited for this event - your encouragement means so much! THANK YOU! And let's get this show on the roa-, err, screen! 🤭❤

Tags/TW’s: Mentions [past lashings, past family trauma, lack of family], Hunger, Being Cold, Being lost in life, Old friendships, Being afraid/Feeling fear, “Want/Longing at first sight”, Hidden identity, Running away, Accidental embrace.

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name | Y/L/N - Your Last Name

Word Count: 2.9k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

Snow flitted toward the ground; little lifeless flakes of frozen water droplets turned to crispy beauty. The first sign of the approach of true winter. You shivered and pulled your tattered cloak closer toward your body while the hem barely reached your ankles. The basket within your grasp was too heavy, the breaths you drew too cold.

Life would soon turn ruthless beyond compare for you. No home, no family, no sanctuary from the biting chill nor the clinging wetness of melting snow resting upon your shivering shoulders. Yet still, you walked on. The only one left in the world who would possibly offer help lived just beyond the hill you shakily climbed while the ground beneath your feet began to turn white.

Miss Mary had been a friend of your mother. The only one remaining after all the years of seclusion crafted by your father. He had always been a man of madness — of possessive rage, and harsh fists. Life, as you knew it, had always been cruel and unkind. From the moment you were able to hold a broom somewhat upright you’d been put to work by the man who created you and no protection had come from the woman who birthed you. May you burn in the fire pits of hell for all the years to come, you thought as you gripped the wicker basket with whitening knuckles.

The wind whipped your hair about, loosening it from both clips and bonnet alike. You lowered your gaze and trudged on, avoiding the flakes endeavouring to stab your eyes as you came to the top of the hill. You took no time to rest, merely following the road down toward the fork where you would take a left and hopefully within no time at all arrive at the estate. Please, please let Mary be there at this time…

The forking of the road came and went, your body turned nearly numb while the wind picked up all around. Then it appeared, like a fairytale castle nestled between old oaks and stretching walls of moss-covered stone. Light flickered in the windows, a warm glow calling out to stave off the encroaching night as the sun said its farewell and abandoned you.

Your feet felt like blocks of ice as you moved up the narrow stone steps at the back of the building, where servants entered the estate unseen by its owners and guests. You reached out and knocked, your frozen hand feeling the echo of the impact yet the numbness made you wonder if perhaps you’d merely graced the old wood.

The door opened a moment later, a wave of warmth from within flooding you for a second. “Yes?” said the older gentleman while holding a candle up to shed light upon your harrowed face. “Sir, I am Miss Y/n Y/l/n,” you began with a shake to your voice as you shivered profusely. “Does Miss Mary still hold a position in this household?” you enquired while raising your gaze toward the man who seemed somewhat friendly, there was no glare of distaste in his eyes at the very least. “Oh, she does, are you a friend of hers, Miss Y/l/n?” “My mother was, I do not know if she remembers me very well though.” “Well, step inside, Sir Brandon would be most unhappy about keeping a woman out in the cold while waiting,” the man continued and you scrunched your eyebrows, you were not sure who Sir Brandon was beyond being the owner of the estate and a colonel.

The man walked off in a quick stride while you stood just inside the door. You were too cold and wet for the warmth in the servants’ entrance hall to be of any real use to you so you kept shivering while remaining in your wet clothes which still had little flakes of snow stuck in the fibres.

“Goodness me,” a familiar voice said on a gasp. Miss Mary appeared in the doorway with her hand pressed against her chest in something you could only describe as shock. “Miss Mary,” you said with a quiver to your voice. “I’m sorry for appearing in such a manner, without an invitation nor a word of my arrival beforehand,” you continued quietly while you tried your utmost to hold on to the basket while your numb fingers ached with the prickling of needles as the warmth slowly began to thaw you. “Y/n, dear oh dear,” she whispered as she walked up to you, a sweet worry half visible in her features that had you sigh a deep breath of relief.

***

When morning came you were warm and comfortable for the first time since early summer. You hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in months and the rest had done wonders even if your entire body still ached from the backbreaking work you had managed to procure in recent times.

You wasted no time getting up and dressed. Just as you secured your tattered bonnet a knock came from the door. You opened it only to find Miss Mary with a bundle of neatly folded clothes in her arms, a warm smile tinted with worry gracing her lips.

“These are for you, dear,” she said and stepped inside before you closed the door behind her. “Master Brandon is a fine gentleman and I spoke to him on your behalf, you now hold a position here at Delaford.” You blinked at her words, unable to fully grasp them, or the ease she spoke of her master with. You had yet to meet a kind master; your doubt of the man was not unfounded but not supported either.

“I have work? Here? With you?” you asked, dubious but also relieved beyond measure. Grateful for Miss Mary’s kindness. “Not with me, dear. I am one of five housemaids, I am sectioned to the upper west quarters. I have procured you work as a scullery maid, Cook is a strict woman but fair. She sees hard work and those who do their due diligence under her are rewarded thusly. You will also keep the main fireplace in order, sorting the coal and wood stocking, sweeping the ashes, and polishing the spark guard. Mrs Thatch is old of age and struggles with this task of her allocated quarters, hence it now falls to you,” Miss Mary said, rattling it all off with precision while moving about in your newly acquired room — tugging at the faded curtains, straightening a pillow. The familiarity with her mannerisms and speech was a comfort to you, remembering it from many years ago when you had been but a tiny child.

“Thank you, Miss Mary.” She nodded at you with her tight but kind smile. “Miss Mary,” she said quietly, “been many years since I was called that.” “Oh?” “It’s Mrs Garber now, Y/n. And, as I’m sure you are aware, you are below my station and hence will call me by that name from now on. I shall call you by your first name, as is practice.” You nodded at her words, they weren’t spoken harshly, just in a no-nonsense sort of way.

“Well, Mrs Garber, thank you for all of this. I will do my absolute best so you’re pleased and stay in good grace with the master.” “Oh, I do not doubt it. Now, change into your new clothes after you’ve bathed, you reek of street and dirt. We cannot have that.” You blushed deeply. “I shall do so instantly.” “The kitchen is to the left of where you entered yesterday, you will find your way to Cook on your own?” You nodded and smiled at the kind woman before she left the room with another smile aimed at you.

***

Mrs Garber had been right. Cook was a strict woman, ruling her kitchen with a sense of urgency to everything. But you managed to keep up, managed to not be in the way while doing your tasks around the others flying about with spoons, pots, pans, chopping boards, and all types of food going from one part of the kitchen to another in a flurry.

You were putting back a giant pot you’d just scrubbed to an inch of its life — making the iron nearly shine in the dim light — when Cook told you to pay attention. It was first then you noticed the little bell to your right (one among many) was chiming gently. You wiped your hands, stowed away the rag, and grabbed one of the coal baskets before leaving the hectic kitchen behind. With the heavy basket in a tight grip you silently, stealthily, moved through the estate toward the main part where you’d order the fireplace as the little bell indicated needed doing.

The room was grand, with large pillars lining the walls in stony white and shining floors reflecting the warm glow of the chandelier high above. You did your best to keep to the outskirts, blending in as well as you could with the environment despite there not being anyone in the room. You picked up the pace, sat the heavy basket by the fireplace, and got to work clearing out the old ashes after placing a sheet beneath to protect the flooring.

After emptying everything, sweeping the last bit of dust out, and wiping the grills you leaned in to inspect the stone — making sure there was nothing left — only to look up and see a whole clogging of soot just beyond reach from your seated position. Oh, fabulous… That’ll take me up the chimney to clean. You sighed deeply and grabbed the poker next to the fireplace before crawling inside the fireplace to reach the clogging. T his hasn’t been cleaned in ages.

You squinted, aiming for the clog, only to halt mid-motion. You grabbed your handkerchief and tied it around your face to not inhale whatever was about to come down on you. You grabbed the poker anew, aimed, and jabbed at the nearly rock-hard piece. It took three hard jabs before you broke through the exterior and the heavens rained down soot and ashes atop you.

You didn’t have time to turn away, to back out of the tight space, or even cover your face before you were covered in grey and black. Glorious, perfect, now I’ll be dragging dust and soot all through the house! Mrs Garber will be scolded for making the master hire such a travesty for a scullery maid. I’ll be out on the streets again… Your thoughts swirled while your eyes watered as you kept working on clearing the clogging, you were already a complete mess of chimney soot either way, why not spare the others the suffering if you were already to be scolded for messing up the newly swabbed floors. Your hand fisted, but you resisted the urge to hit the hard surface around you in the tight space, breaking your hand would do nobody any good.

“I believed Santa Claus to be a red-dressed man,” came the most delicious, gravely voice. It echoed all around you in the tight space as your entire body froze. “It seems, I was mistaken,” the man continued and it sounded as if he were even closer. You looked down only to see the most handsome face peering up at you from below.

Your eyes widened, your mouth agape under the handkerchief as you took in the sweet smile, the flowy hair, the hooked nose and gentle eyes. “You are not the mysterious man of Christmas, are you, miss?” he asked and your knees trembled in secret — hidden behind your drab dress that used to be white with a black apron, it was now all grey. You managed to shake your head though, and he chuckled. The sweetest sound ever to grace your ears, amplified by the echo of the chimney you stood in.

“Miss, I believe this is the work of a chimney man, a sweeper.” “I-, I-, Sir, it was clogged,” you managed to say, even if it came out muffled. “I was cleaning the hearth, saw the clog and thought I ought to take care of it. It’s-, it’s a fire hazard. I wouldn’t-, wouldn’t want the grand colonel’s house to burn down, Sir.” “The colonel?” he asked, tilting his head, or, well, he tilted his head further — how was he even looking up at you? He must be bent most awkwardly. “Yes, Sir. The colonel who saw fit to hire even a scullery maid such as I,” you said. “Mrs Garber professes him to be a most wonderful master. I’ve yet to meet the man, but I dare say I shan’t have such a pleasure after the mess I’ve caused… Sir,” you replied in a near ramble, flustered by how the man peered at you most gently. Sweeter on the eyes than any man you’d ever witnessed before. The red coat with golden details you could just hint from his shoulder complimented his skin, his hooked nose was oddly beautiful paired with his strong cheekbones and thin lips.

“A wonderful master, you say, miss?” “Yes, Sir. Mrs Garber told me so.” “Will you step out of the chimney, this position hardly warrants for decent conversation, miss.” “S-sir, I am not one for you to hold decent conversations with, I’m merely a scullery maid.” He chuckled at that, again sending trembles through your already weak knees. “Miss, out of the chimney, if you please,” he said but his voice was gentle and calm, almost a hint of something warm to it. “We shall order a sweeper to visit, you ought not feel the need to take on such a task.”

The man disappeared from the chimney, making you realise his head had been right by those trembling legs of yours, far too close for decency but that was due to the lack of space of course. You drew a steadying breath and began to crouch, backing out of the fireplace with minuscule motions so as not to make the dust flare up. Your foot found the edge of the raised stone and you tried not to turn around too quickly even if your heart hammered at the prospect of seeing the gentleman fully.

You stood up too quickly. Your head banged the edge of the mantel, your other foot stepped right on the edge of the plateau, your trembling knees wobbled and you stumbled out onto to polished floor — your arms flailing, your dress swirling while spreading dust all over. No, no, no! You headed toward the floor in a dusty mess when the man caught you up, his strong body firmly pressed against yours as he took your weight with ease, not even faltering a single step at the sudden impact.

His hands squeezed around your waist, the warmth of his skin penetrating the two layers of fabric almost instantly while a tingle, unlike any other, shot through you. Your hands had grabbed his biceps, strong and unyielding beneath your palms. You blinked rapidly to clear the soot from your lashes while tilting your head only to find him peering down at you with those gentle eyes — a curiosity within them.

“Sir, I’m terribly sorry,” you exhaled shakily as he helped you straighten. Your eyes flickered away from him only to find a literal imprint of dust over his front, outlining you. “I’m terribly, terribly, terribly sorry,” you rushed out in a mere breath as you backed away from him, bowed and your eyes on the polished boots he wore. “Miss, are you well?” he asked while taking a step toward you. “Oh, I’ve made a mess of you, Sir,” you whispered while thoughts of being back out on the street swam through your head in a sea of fear and worry. Surely, the colonel will cast me out, making a mess of a guest of his. A guest so kind and sweet to boot too.

“The floors!” came a shrill old voice from behind you. “Maid! What have you done to the floo— And the colonel! ” the voice shrieked. Your eyes widened, your entire body draining of the warmth his gentle eyes and thunderously gravely voice had inflected upon it. The colonel? You wished to curl up right then and there, to disappear completely. “I’m-, I’m-, I’m so terribly sorry, Sir-, Colonel,” you squeaked, desperate to keep your tears from running down your soot-covered cheeks. It was useless. The clicking of servant heels from behind you, the nearly scrutinizing eyes from the man before you, the shaking of your shoulders, and the lack of breath in your lungs all had you in a vice grip of fear. Last time you left a stain on polished floors you’d endured four lashings over your naked hands. Hands you were now gripping tightly before you, wringing them and spreading the now moist soot all over them.

You couldn’t stay there. You had already made such a mess, made a fool of yourself, and created problems for the very man who employed you — probably out of pity, or worse because Mrs Garber stuck out her neck for you. You did the only thing you could do. You bowed as deep as your body would allow and just as the other servant with the shrill voice reached your side you bolted — spreading dust all around while running towards the kitchens to get to your room where you’d change into your own clothes and leave before any lashing could be given.

“Miss!” came that thunderous voice. “Miss, wait!” he called in a rush that managed to stroke your spine, within your skin. The most pleasurable sound you’d ever heard came from the man who employed you and whose clothes and floors you had just darkened with chimney soot and ashes — as if you were tarnishing the man himself with your very presence in his grand estate.

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: THE FIRST FIC OF RICKMAS2023! 😍👏 Oh I hope you enjoyed this little introduction to this yeas event - as you've probably noticed I am using a system of numbers and letters to make it easier to find which fics that belong to each other this year, I hope it'll be of help as I have hopes for doing several longer fics with several parts this year.

Anyway, I hope you're ready for another December of fan-derful reading, darling! 👏❤ Please do say hello in the comments if you want to, and as I've noticed it's sometimes difficult to know what to comment or find the courage to do so without any prompting I'm promoting you from the very beginning! 🥰

MERRY RICKMAS DARLINGS! 💚

I'll be adding a question in the End Note of each fic, so if you don't know what to comment you can always answer that if you want to let me know you're here and having a good time. I'll add my own answer as well! ❤❤❤

Q: Who's your favourite Alan Rickman character? 😍 A: For me it's Judge Turpin! 👀

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Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

[snowblossomreads]

Mistletoe Miracle

Summary: In where [Y/n] takes her chance in conveying how she really feels. (Prompt 5 Mistletoe and Secrets)

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x FemReader

Warning(s): age gap, one paragraph of angst at the most, and probably terrible old English dialogue but you know :D!

Word Count: 3.4K (How did that happen?)

A/N: Whoop whoop! A new story for Rickmas with the prompt secrets and mistletoe, and a new character that I've never written for! This is my first time writing for the sensitive soul that is Colonel Brandon so I hope this is alright. I also had a ball writing this apparently as the word count shocked me after I got done lol. Anyways happy reading!

[Y/n] knew that her fixation on a man a decade and a half older than her was foolish and would most definitely lead to heartbreak if she tried to pursue it. Not only that, but what would the gossip in town be like if they were to become something of an item?

Would they paint him as some sort of immoral older man preying on a younger woman and her nativity or her as a money hungry seductress? And what of her dear brother? Frankly, she believed he would have a heart attack knowing his young sister was most infatuated with someone he served with in the East Indies. 

But she couldn’t help it! For heaven’s sake, who wouldn’t fall in love with a man such as Colonel Brandon? Every time he came around to converse with her brother she couldn’t help but try to listen in as his voice was most enchanting. It was low like the faraway rumble of thunder, and so dark sounding for a man that seemed to have such a sensitive soul yet it was so soothing that she couldn’t help but be drawn to him. 

And never would he dismiss her whenever she would intrude to ask him questions ranging from his travels to literature, to how the renovations were progressing at his estate. Instead, he was patient, answering all her questions, feeding into her curiosity about everything and anything that she asked about, never once seeming annoyed by it.

He had even been so kind as to gift her an early edition of a book they had been discussing as a late birthday present when he had come to visit once and found her family celebrating.

“For you Ms.[Y/n], I hope you do not think poorly of me for not giving this to you earlier. Had I known your birthday had been the same day as my visit I would have presented it to you then.”

She was sure she had fallen absolutely and irrevocably in love with him at that moment. And oh how she could just gush all day about him if it wasn’t for the fact that other than her best friend and confidant Adeline, no one else knew of her secret adoration for the colonel. She was much too afraid to admit how she felt, fearful she would be shot down and left in tears. 

But she couldn’t hide this secret for much longer, no. Not when her parents had begun to talk even more about suitors for her as she was well past the age of living with them. So when her family received an invitation from the colonel to come and join him and some friends for an early Christmas celebration at Delaford she had almost burst at the seams.

“Oh Addie what am I to do!” [Y/n] cried desperately, laying her head on her dear friend's shoulder as they neared closer to their destination of the colonel’s estate.  “If I could simply tell him I truly feel. Even if he rejects me, at least the knowledge of my trying would comfort me if I had to wed another. But to not know, to hold it in, it has become too much I think.”

“Really it would comfort you?” Adeline questioned, her eyebrows lifting up just slightly as if she was feigning surprise before continuing with a stark, “truth be told I think you be quicker brought to tears more than anything with how much you fancy him. I still don’t understand what you see in him though [Y/n] he’s so…old.”

[Y/n] jerked back almost as if her friend had called her old and not the colonel. She felt personally offended at that as she didn’t consider Brandon old, sure he was older but definitely not old!

“He is not old! Just older, and so what? He is so wise and gentle and I bet that is what makes you assume he is old.”

“If that’s what you think.” Adeline shrugged watching as her friend swooned a little before speaking again, this time her tone taking on a much warmer and caring quality. “But truly [Y/n] if you really do adore the colonel as much as you say, which I believe you do. I would cast any caution in the wind, and speak freely, and truthfully about how you feel. You never know,” she grinned, putting a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder and nudging her gently, causing [Y/n] to smile weakly at her. “A Christmas miracle may be in store for you!”

She could hardly know how right her dear Addie would be by the end of the night as they approached their destination. 

When they had first arrived at the estate, which had been beautifully decorated with wreaths and banners and all sorts of festive things, [Y/n] couldn’t help but admire the majesty of it all as she stepped out of the little carriage they had been in onto the snow-covered ground. The place was abuzz with laughter and chatter  as people made their way inside the home and she along with her family and friend were quick to follow to escape from the cold.

As soon as they had all entered, she immediately became separated from her family, all of whom seemed to go off in different directions to schmooze and talk with the others around. Even Adeline had left her side, saying something about how the long trip there had made her peckish while shooting off to look for whatever food there was.

On her own now, it didn’t take long until [Y/n] found herself bored with the gossiping and chit chat of the party. She had even found herself being drawn into a conversation with an older plumper woman who, as friendly as she seemed, was adamant about finding ‘such a pretty little thing’ a suitable husband by the night was over.

[Y/n] who held no interest in such a match, unless it was with the person who she had funnily enough not seen the entire night, had quickly excused herself from their exchange saying that she heard her friend calling from across the way before taking her leave. Turning heel, she moved past the crowd, wandering further and further away from the main rooms where everyone was in. 

Each step brought her away from the nosy group and further into the stillness that the rest of the home contained. This was the first time she had been in such a grand estate and she couldn’t help but stop and admire just how beautiful everything was. Even the patterns on the wallpapers in the hall were eye-catching in design. 

Curious about what else was around, forgetting that it wasn’t polite to snoop around others' property, [Y/n] couldn’t help but peek into a room whose door was open and the first thing that caught her eyes were the many large and tall bookshelves that lined the walls. From her vantage point, and from the dim light coming from the fireplace she could make out the spines of many books large and small. 

How wonderful and convenient it must be to have such a vast amount of knowledge in one room! Going to take another step inside to get a better look at it, she was suddenly jumping out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. A surprised shriek left her form and her heart felt like it had stopped as she whipped around to face the man who had been missing the entire night. Colonel Brandon. Who also seemed surprised to find the woman wandering about.

“Oh, colonel!” She sputtered out trying to find the right words for her situation of being caught roaming around where she ought not to be. He may have been a kind man but that didn’t mean she had the right to take advantage of it by meddling around where she had not been invited. “I’m so terribly sorry I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just that I found myself having to escape from a conversation and it led me to wander about and I just couldn’t help but admire how beautiful everything is! And your library colonel it’s so wonderful, incredible really and oh my goodness I’m so sorry what am I saying I shouldn’t-”

She was going off the rails at that point, her words spewing out faster than she could think through what she was saying but before she could continue digging herself into a hole she was stopped by him.

“Ms.[Y/n],” his voice so warm, and low yet able to command her to a stop and bring her to attention. It sent a little shiver down her spine and she was glad for the dim light in hopes he didn’t see her quivering. “It is quite alright,” he murmured kindly, as he gazed at her with a relaxed expression causing her to feel a bit better. “I’m not at all upset with you and am very pleased that you find the renovations to be as wonderful as I think they are. They did take quite some time so I’m happy that there are others who would admire them.”

Giving her a sweet smile, one that had her heart, which had calmed down, begin to speed up again. [Y/n] couldn’t help but return the gesture, delighted that he didn’t seem at all mad about her roaming around. 

“Well I’m certainly glad to hear that colonel I didn’t want to ruin such a joyous night by upsetting our host. Though I,” she stopped herself correcting her word of choice and hoping he didn’t catch the slip up. “We have missed you at the gathering. I hope you haven’t had some urgent business last minute?”

She seemed to have hit the mark though as his face turned a bit apologetic at that.

“Unfortunately yes but thankfully it has been resolved you see,” he started, “I was just about to make my way to everyone in hopes no one would notice my long absence before dinner but I see you did?”

‘Of course I did, you're the reason I’m here to be honest.’

Ignoring her inner monologue as much as possible, she nodded in the affirmative trying to give him the best reassuring look.

“Well of course! I am the ever eagled eye lookout.” Her words teasing as she tried to lift the mood not wanting him to feel bad about his noticed absence. It seemed to do the trick as that gentle smile returned to his face and the little crinkles near his eyes showed up as he looked at her with a softness that had her chest constricting.

He was just so handsome, even in the dim light. And everything about him was just immaculate. Never had she held someone in such high regard. And never did she find someone so…so beautiful that every time she saw him she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Yes you are and a very good one at that,” he chuckled, breaking her away from her thoughts about him and offering his arm up to her, “but shall we return to the others? I will make sure to rescue you from any dull conversation to make up for my tardiness. If that is alright?” 

Looking at his offered arm and then up back at him, [Y/n] realized something that she should have thought of much earlier. It was that they were alone. Utterly alone and away from the prying eyes and ears of everyone from the party. Away from her family and from her friend. Alone. 

This had a nervous lump instantly form in her throat as she acknowledged that this may be her one and only chance to talk to him alone about her feelings. About how much she adored him and hoped that maybe, just maybe there could be something more between them. And so shaking her head ‘no’ and seeing the confusion in his eyes, she spoke softly.

“Wait, colonel, just a moment. I would like to share something with you if you would allow me.”

She did her best not to let her voice waver even though she felt as if she could pass out as he dropped his arm and gazed at her puzzled about the situation. Somehow even in his confusion she couldn’t help but think about how thoughtful and gentle he looked.

“Yes of course you are always welcome to speak freely with me [Y/n]. ”

It was now or never. She had to tell him how she felt about him or she would just combust. Never had she been so glad to be alone with someone in her life. At least if he did reject her, it would be tucked away in the shadows for no one else to see. 

Taking in a deep breath, she hesitated no longer.

“Colonel Brandon,” she started clasping her hands together and nervously looking down to avoid his gaze.“ I know this may be too forward and I understand if you may find me silly for it but for these past months, years really. I have found myself to be very fond of you.”

There it was. She couldn’t even bring herself to look up at him too afraid of the expression that he might be wearing. So she didn’t and she continued to spill everything that she had been holding in. From her longing to the quiet affection that she held for him.

“At first I thought it just some sort of passing fancy when you first came to visit my brother,” she continued, not giving him an inch to speak fearing if she didn’t say everything she would hold something back. “I couldn’t take my eyes away from how handsome you were and how gentle you seemed, from the way you spoke to the look in your eyes. Everything in this world seems to interest you and it was such a wonderful feeling when you encouraged my curiosity for things as no one had done such.”  

“Little by little my affection for you has grown and I know that what I feel for you isn’t a passing fancy anymore and it wasn’t until recently when my parents spoke to me about finding a suitor that I knew I couldn’t wait anymore to share with you how I feel. Because..because.” 

Something wet seemed to hit her cheek causing her to pause and lift her hand up to it to wipe it away. As she kept wiping it seemed that her cheeks dampened quicker before she realized tears had been pouring down her face. But she didn’t stop, she just couldn’t and so finally she looked up at him with wet eyes, a tinge of guilt in her stomach at how he must feel being cornered by her.

“Because even if you reject me at least I will have known I was able to tell you and not hide away. So please forgive me if you resent me for putting you in such a position. It was never my intention but I just could no longer hide such a secret.”

If a weight was supposed to be lifted off her chest, or clarity was supposed to suddenly drape over her it didn’t. Somehow she felt worse as she stood quietly under the stunned gaze of the older man who hadn’t said one word. 

‘Of course he didn’t [Y/n] it’s not like you gave him a chance.’

The silence was absolutely deafening and it also felt like there was a silent rejection in it. And so as to not hold either of them hostage to her feelings anymore, and to quickly get away so she could cry in peace somewhere, she just gave him a little apologetic smile that she hoped said ‘I understand’.

“I guess we should be going, right? I’m sure everyone will be wondering.” She laughed awkwardly side stepping him from underneath the door frame trying to escape the soul crushing reality of his rejection.

It shouldn’t have been surprising really. Who did she think she was that such an important person, such a regal, intelligent, and sensitive man like him, would have looked at her with the same affection she held? She should have known better and it shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did, but it did.

And she was ready to run away and had even started to do so, before she felt herself being pulled back and spun around to face him. All of it had happened so quickly that when she had registered what was going on there were already a pair of soft, warm lips upon hers.

His hands were wrapped tightly around her upper body as one of them slid to the base of her neck to stroke the sensitive skin there. He was kissing her. The man who she would wait for to visit just to be in his presence, the man who was just so gentle and patient with her.

The man who she most fervently adored. He was kissing her! And she absolutely melted into his arms. Kissing him back with the passion that had been burning deep inside her for him. They clung to each other tightly, lips pressing against one another over and over until one had to pull away to breathe due to the suffocating passion.

“Forgive me for not saying anything,” he murmured as they parted a little, noses still brushing against either as he went to peck her lips once more before continuing, “you must understand how shocked I was to hear that the person I’ve also been so fond of felt the same that it was hard for me to realize what I was hearing.”

“Colonel-.”

“Christopher my sweet,” he corrected gently, unwinding his hands from around her so that he could stroke her cheek.

“Christopher,” his name rolled off her tongue with such ease and it felt like music to both of their ears as she leaned into his comforting touch. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered up at him with questioning eyes. “All along I’ve been afraid that you would reject me, yet you also held feelings for me?”

“Because not once did I think I was a suitable match for you,” he confessed which brought a frown to [Y/n]’s face as she couldn’t think of anyone else who was perfect for her. He saw this and could only give her a sad smile as a response before continuing. 

“You have so much of your life ahead of you and I did not want to put you in such an uncomfortable position. Yet just as you, I found it difficult with each visit to not become fond of you, and in time the fondness grew more and more until I could not bear the thought of you being with another.”

Hearing his words, and seeing the sincere look in his eyes only had her swooning more and more. He loved her. He actually loved her and she felt over the moon knowing this. Knowing that such a perfect being like him would adore her as she adored him oh it was so good so wonderful she felt like she could burst with joy!

“Oh Christoper,” she sighed out, finally leaning up to kiss his lips softly and murmuring. “How are you so wonderful? So perfect?” 

He shook his head ‘no’, as they pulled away his warm smile returning as he offered her arm once more, this time with her taking it and beaming back up at him.

“No I am none of those things, but you my sweet, my darling, you are all those and more.” 

‘Goodness gracious can he be any sweeter!’

Her mind was an absolute happy mess at the moment looking up at him and it was only when he asked,

“Shall we rejoin everyone now?”

That she snapped out of it and answered him with a very enthused,

“We shall.”

Before walking away though something swinging above the doorframe of the library caught [Y/n]’s eyes and she turned to give it a look. Noticing her pause the colonel turned with her to look and couldn’t help the soft chuckle that left his lips.

“Mistletoe, how wonderfully placed,” [Y/n] giggled looking back up at her love who looked down at her with an equally warm look.

“Indeed very wonderfully placed,” he spoke before leaning down and pressing the most tender kiss against her lips.

A/N: Yall the way I wrote this last night like it was an essay due at 11:59pm and I had procrastinated 🤣. This is why I can't do events because life keeps smacking me but I'm like I wanna write.

ANYWAYS let me know if you all enjoyed it and of course, thank you for stopping in to read it!!! See you guys on the next prompt I'll write for ( I hope lol?) ❤❤❤🥰

[galbalmuhet]

Yes, yes, yes! ❤️

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Hello how are you?~ What writings are you currently working on or will start working on? Requests and your own plans? I'm just curious because I really like your blog and your works~ 🍃

Hello deary ❤️,

Thanks for asking, currently I'm working on the following down below

Pirates of the caribbean headcanon, how they would react if you're a mermaid.

What it would be like if the goblin king took fascination in you

A mermaid chaptered fic within the potc universe.

Ballet Thranduil chaptered fic x anxious reader

Dancing willows, colonel brandon x reader

Colonel brandon x mermaid reader

Severus snape x mermaid reader

Currently, I have a lot in the works, and I'm working on them vigorously 😁. My job has me busy, but I often try to work on my breaks with them. I love writing, and I'm going to try and get through as many requests as I can ✨️💕😁

[lea-andres]

Award for biggest mistake made in my fic goes to Maru for introducing Lillianna and Penny. Truly, truly a bad move on her part.

They're both romantic dreamers, Lillianna's just much louder and gives negative fucks about causing a scene. So they're just enabling and encouraging each other's shit and poor Maru's just along for the ride.

The only good that comes of it is Lillianna encourages Penny to talk to Sam more and helps her get that ball rolling. There is encouragement from Penny to Lillianna too but unfortunately that just turns into more Harvey bullying.

Harvey: Maru... do you know why Lillianna and Penny were laughing at me this morning?

Maru, letting out a tired sigh: We watched Sense and Sensibility last night. Comparisons between you and the Colonel were made.

Harvey: ...I see...

(Maru reports to Lillianna and Penny later that week that she caught Harvey reading Sense and Sensibility while it was slow in the Clinic and the two die laughing all over again lmao)

[notmoreflippingelves]

Krisnix - Jane Austen's Sense and Sensibilty AU, for the prompts, please? 😉🌹

"You do not suppose me capable of real feeling-- do you, Klavier? I will admit that I do not wear my heart upon my sleeve as you do, but you are wrong to assume that it does not beat and burn and long just as fiercely as your own does. I have known of Mr. Edgeworth's prior claim for months now, and for those months, I have thought of little else than Phoe--than Mr. Wright and the regard that I still hold for him. But the family needs my strength and my resolve--not least after your own romantic disappointment--so I remain ever the sense to counterbalance your own sensibility."

Klavier said nothing in reply but placed a steady hand on his brother's shoulder, until Kristoph covered the hand with one of his own.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 4-5 sentence drabble about it

[beautifulchaosinourminds]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: AUSTEN Jane - Works, Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility - All Media Types, Sense and Sensibility (1995) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Colonel Brandon/Marianne Dashwood (Sense and Sensibility) Characters: Marianne Dashwood (Sense and Sensibility), Colonel Brandon (Sense and Sensibility), Margaret Dashwood, Mrs. Dashwood (Sense and Sensibility), Sir John Middleton, Lady Middleton (Sense and Sensibility), Elinor Dashwood, Edward Ferrars Additional Tags: Tooth-Rotting Fluff, I Will Go Down With This Ship Summary:

Two letters going to the wrong people. A happy accident.

(Or, another Brandon/Marianne fluff piece).

(NEVER let it be said that I won't die on the Brandon/Marianne hill...)

[rosebudfics]

~PLEASE READ BEFORE REQUESTING~

Minors DNI or lerk in the shadows

Hello fellow snape lovers! This is a new blog however I am not new to writing! I have a separate blog specifically for writing but I will not let anyone know what it is due to the fact that I am afraid I will receive hate/threats because I enjoy Harry Potter. And before anyone comes at me, no I do not condone to the actions that JK Rowling has done!!! I simply just enjoy the series because of how much comfort it brings me.

Request Rules:

I WILL write: fluff, angst, suggestive, female and sometimes gender neutral reader unless its spicy, and domestic stuff!!

I will NOT write: Smut, incest, pedophillia, rape/no consent, racism, homophobia, abuse, professor x student, daddy kink, piss/shit fetish or anything related to those!!

As for the characters I will write for, I will mainly write for Severus Snape however I am open to recieving requests for Colonel Brandon from Sense and Sensibility, Sheriff Nottingham from Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves, Hans Gruber from Die Hard, and David Friedman from Judas Kiss!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I will write head canons, drabbles, and short fics! Possibly full length fics if an idea that i really like is either requested or i think of!

Masterlist Below the cut!

Severus Snape

New Professor - Snape x Professor! Reader

Sick Days - Snape x Wife! Reader

Girl Dad - Dad! Snape x Mom! Reader

Secret Lovers - Snape x Wife! Reader

Colonel Brandon

Your Last Night - (ANGST) Colonel Brandon x ill! Reader

Sheriff Nottingham

Nothing yet!

Hans gruber

Nothing yet!

David Friedman

Nothing yet!

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

omg those AI images of Alan and your OC are so cool! How do you create them? Is there a particular AI image generator you recommend and do you have any tips?

Hey, first of all thank you. I just found it today too. It’s called bing image creator. I had to sign up with my Microsoft account and then had like 15 Lightning bolts which apparently generates your images faster. But after you have used all of them you can still generate some it only takes longer. Your “boosts” reset after a week.

This ai is powered by Dall e 3. I don’t know about you guys but when I use open AI to generate pictures I only can use Dall e 1 so I’m really happy that I found this today.

So for the prompts for Snape I just said that it should give me an image of Alan rickman as Severus Snape and it worked. Bevor I just said Snape and it looked nothing like Alan so maybe it used the book as reference. After that I described the oc and the background. I found the more in detail you say what you want to see the better the images.

For the one with Alan and the girl in the field I tried using Alan rickman as colonel Brandon (that’s how I imagine him in my fic “The new lady at Downton Abbey”) but it did not work quite as right after that I put Alan rickman in the style of 1915 and that worked better. So basically trial and error.

Sometimes when I put a prompt with many celebrities it said that I am violating the guidelines. Haven’t read them so I’m a bit confused there but after deleting some of my sentence it worked fine again. Also I tried to do some Pedro pascal images it didn’t work.

That’s what I found out today. Have fun trying it yourself;)

For those that would like to read the fic:

[muiitoloko]

Will you be writing again for colonel Brandon? I first read your Turpin fic Love? because another author talked about it on a post and after I found all your other titles and now I cannot stop read 😅 Brandon is my favorite of all Alan characters.

Yes, I definitely plan to continue the Brandon fanfic soon! I just took a little break because, well, my brain decided it can only handle one series at a time 😅. So I’ve been focusing more on *Difficult Woman* (because, you know, multitasking is clearly not my thing). Once I wrap that up, Brandon will be back in action, I promise!

[deepperplexity]

Prompt: 14. A Light In The Night [A4]

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Delaford Estate

Continuation of: Prompt 1. Chimney Soot, 5. Grave Of Snow, & 9. Missing Star

A/N: TWO THINGS OF IMPORTANCE TODAY! One) This is the final part of the Brandon fic! First wrap-up of Rickmas2023! 😱😍👏 Two) IT'S FRIKKIN SMUT TIME DARLINGS! 🔥🔥🔥 Oh, and this is a longer part too, hope you'll enjoy it (just don't ask how my fingers are feeling after this weeks writing shenanigans so far - gosh, I've written so much 😂)🤭😘

Tags/TW’s: Selfdoubt, Adoration, Love, Embracing, Slight Hints At Classism, Feeling New (positive, natural) Emotions & Sensations, Nicknames, Kissing, Confessions of Desire, Respecting Another's Wishes, Gifting Ones Virginity, Sweet Loving, Caring Partner, Penetrative Sex, Future Marriage Implied.

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 4.3k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

It had been four days since his confession, and to be perfectly frank, you had yet to fully absorb it. As if the spirits of Christmas had snapped their fingers, all your wishes seemed to be coming true in the span of a mere two weeks. Two weeks ago, you had entered the Delaford Estate in desperate need of employment — or just a roof over your head, and a hot meal would have tied you over for a blessed moment — and now you were dressed in finery, drinking tea in a beautiful parlour with the sweetest hound by your feet on order from its master, the man who had you beyond infatuated, to stay by your side.

It was strange, so very odd, to be seated in such splendour when you only knew how to be the person to serve such people. You had never taken notice of how the rich ladies held their teacups, or how they sat with their legs, or even how they held conversations. You had always been too busy making sure you barely existed in their presence. To serve the tea, remove the empty plates, to not make a sound or be noticed. Now, you were the one to be noticed, the one who was supposed to be able to do things in a fine and proper manner.

Not that any of that mattered to the man who only yesterday had asked for your hand in marriage. For you to be his wife, his partner, to be by his side through the rest of his life. You hadn’t grasped that the ring around your finger, with several diamonds lining the golden band in a delicate fashion, was truly proof of a reality that was becoming yours. Not a dream, not a wish, not a hope — just reality. Your reality.

You sat the teacup down, a slight clinking rang out in the big room as your unsteady hand released it. “Oh, Samson, what am I doing here?” you asked the hound who whined and rested his big head with floppy ears atop your legs. And, then, he entered. Your fiancé, the man who made your blood sing and your thoughts turn bright. He walked with a commanding grace that was gentle and decisive at the same time.

He smiled so sweetly towards you, instantly finding you in the vast room. The thoughts of not fitting in, not being in the right place, not being worthy of the life you had just begun flitted away the moment he held you in his arms. Standing before the fireplace, surrounded by Christmas decorations, all derogatory thoughts of yourself went away. It had nothing to do with anything but him.

“Y/n,” he said softly. “Colonel,” you replied, as was proper. But, he shook his head and gently placed his warm fingers under your chin, tilting your head ever so slightly. “Christopher,” he stated. “Christopher…” His name rolled out of your mouth in a mere breath of a whisper. The word too important, too beautiful, too much of a gift for you to speak any louder.

Your body tingled, warmth spread in places within you that had never warmed before. Your legs were unsteady while you felt an inexplicable need to clench your thighs together as something pooled and unfurled in the most sacred of places. “My sweet, something the matter?” he asked as he placed the back of his fingers on your burning cheek. “You appear flustered, are you fairing?” The concern in his voice was too sweet, too caring — your senses were overwhelmed by him. “I’m fairing, Christopher,” you said but your voice didn’t quite reach the tone you had thought it would. There was something strangely quiet about it, your throat suddenly a little bit thick as you tried to swallow past the fluttering tingle going from your lips all the way down to your very toes.

“My star,” he hummed while his fingers travelled along your jaw until his hand slipped over your shoulder and down your arm until his hand could grasp yours, raise it up, and plant a gentle kiss atop your knuckles. You were becoming hotter by the moment, everywhere he touched you felt as if it burned, despite the fabric separating his skin from yours mostly.

Outside, darkness crept in despite the white snow. He'd been away most of the day, attending to business in town as he’d said at breakfast. How can I possibly miss you so dearly every moment you’re not with me after such a short time? “I cannot wait to have you as my wife,” he said and kissed your hand once more, harder and more ardently than before. Your thighs clenched together at the intense contact. Samson barked a low rumble and walked out of the room with the pitter-patter of his claws against the shiny flooring. “And I you as my husband, Christopher.” Saying his name was such a blessing, he was a blessing.

“My sweet,” he hummed. “You are making it difficult to be a gentleman.” “What do you mean?” you asked, feeling as if the room turned hotter with each passing second in his proximity. He squeezed your hand. “You are too beautiful, too wonderful. It is the most difficult challenge to stay away.” “Then do not,” you exhaled, still not fully grasping why he needed to stay away at all. “My star, you ask too much of me. If I do not stay away, how could I possibly refrain from ravaging you before you hold my name? How can I remain a gentleman when all my desires are within my grasp?”

Your breath hitched, the warmth within becoming a fire as his eyes held yours with nothing but honesty and love within them. You were pressed against one another, neither of you able to separate your bodies while your fingers were entwined on either side of you, your hands firmly held by each other.

“Are you not an honest man?” you asked. “I endeavour to be.” “And are you not a respectable man?” “I believe I am. To the best of my capabilities.” “And with that being said, are you one to keep your word?” “Always,” he affirmed, his eyes taking on a more serious shine. “Then, can we not believe in your honest promise to marry me, as a respectable man who endeavours to go through life in a manner befitting to your beliefs, darling?” you asked, feeling brave and empowered by the way he viewed you most dearly. “You have me at a loss for words. How can I dispute such words when they ring of truth and cater to my selfish want for you?” he nearly purred in that gravely voice of his. “I am yours.” “As I am yours .”

He took a step back, breathing in deep — as if he were desperate for air — and released one of your hands while beginning to turn toward the door. Yet, he did not move, did not tug or pull, not even a step was taken as he watched you with his head turned. He waited for you, and your body could not spare another second to a life where you did not know him intimately.

You squeezed his hand and moved forward. That was the cataclysm, the release of you both and the acceptance of trust between you both. He would keep his word and make you his wife, you would stay with him forever, and in your loving trust, there was freedom from propriety. There was freedom from restraint. Freedom within the warmth which radiated from the both of you, for each other.

The door locked. You were a pining mess for the man before you — with his stiff shoulders and harder breathing stealing your focus. He moved in swiftly, not wasting a second to cup your warm face with his gentle hands. “I will ask one more time,” he said while his eyes flicked between yours. “Are you certain you wish for this to happen?” “I want nothing else,” you said with finality in your breathy voice. “My star, my sweet,” he murmured before his thin lips clashed against yours with a deep groan slipping from his mouth and into yours. It was bliss. It was heaven. It was everything.

Your hands grabbed his wrists, holding onto him while the world fell away. Your body burned for him, your nerves tingling and tensing within you while your core softened as his tongue darted out to tease the seam of your lips. You parted them, allowing him access as your tongue met his and they danced in harmony. A moan slipped from the depths of your chest as he pressed himself against you, and you damned your clothes for existing.

His hands slipped from your face, travelling down your shoulders until he could grasp your waist and hold you even tighter while your own hands rested atop his wide shoulders. You could feel every motion of him, every tensing muscle, every effort he exerted to control himself as his fingers found the lacing at your back and began to tug.

You were nervous, uncertain of what to do or what you even felt. All the emotions and sensations he created within you were new, uncharted waters you were fearful of drowning in without him there to guide you through the waves. “I’ve never,” you whispered against his lips, spilling the truth of your innocence. “I would have expected nothing less from such a wonder as you, yet I am surprised no young man has come to steal your purity. I am lucky, blessed to have your trust in this honour,” he said and there was something about him not putting a value on your purity as a possession but as something for you to gift that had you melting in his arms.

A flurry seemed to spring to life, hands tugged at buttons and strings, moved fabrics and undid lacing until you were both naked in the dark room. You were grateful to the dark for shielding your bare body, yet at the same time… you wished to witness all of him, in all his glory.

Your hands travelled along the curve of his waist, feeling the warm skin bared for you while his front was pressed against yours. The slight softness to his stomach paired with the strength of his arms had you thinking of warm cuddles during foggy mornings, of safety and gentle caresses. Then the hardness of his cock pressed against your pelvis the knot between your legs seemed to tie itself up further.

“I wish to see you, my sweet,” he said as he backed away, leaving you standing by the edge of the bed in the dim darkness. The sound of a match being struck rang out over your panted breaths and a little flame flickered to life beside you while the chill of the separation made your nipples peak. A small candle next to the bed spread its golden glow impressively. Yet, your eyes instantly snagged to the man blowing out the match.

His body was far from what you had imagined you would ever be attracted to. His chest was dusted with soft-looking hair forming a trail down his pale stomach your eyes followed almost dutifully until they reached his cock. You had never seen such a sight before, yet it made your mouth water and your insides churn. Your body knew what it wanted, what it wished for, and he was all of it.

“Beautiful,” came his voice in a rumble. You looked up, finding his eyes studying your face intently while your cheeks felt as if they would burn up. You wondered how on earth he would fit within you, if it were going to hurt or if he would be gentle. He will… He will be gentle with me , you thought and he stepped up and kissed you most softly despite the desperation you could feel from him.

He laid you down, guiding you to the middle of the bed while he placed himself between your legs, all the while keeping your lips connected. You felt his weight atop you increase and you parted your legs further hesitantly. The gracing of his cock against your warm clit sent a jolt through you, it was a foreign sensation — yet it felt good.

You moaned as he groaned when he settled himself. You wished to be closer, feel him everywhere and connect within him in a manner your body was by now pleading for. The ache in your core, the pulsing of your inner walls nearly painful as there was merely a palpable emptiness within you.

“My sweet,” he hummed as his lips traced your jaw, a hand gliding down your side until he grasped your thigh gently, the warmth of his hand searingly wonderful. “Christopher,” you panted while your hands glided over his shoulders and up towards his neck as he sank lower, kissing your throat. “I shall be gentle, in all things I ever do with you,” he declared as you began to tense from the need coursing within you. “Please,” you whispered, not fully understanding the sensations bombarding you but knowing they were all from him. “I need to make you ready,” he said against your upper chest. “The first time, it may hurt but I shall do everything to make it pleasurable, my star.”

His lips latched around your nipple and his tongue circled it heavenly. You were a moaning mess as his mouth gently coaxed the warmth burning within you to reach new heights. Your legs tightened around him as his hand travelled down the inside of your thigh before his fingers found your slick opening. You jolted at the sudden touch, alarm bells going off in your head of how intimate it was, how wrongly good it felt to be touched down there — by him.

“My sweet,” he hummed after releasing your nipple. “Look at me.” You did so, tilting your head only to find him nearly framed by your legs, his head right below your heaving chest and those sweet eyes solely focused on you. “Christopher,” you whispered while his finger toyed with the little nub sending pleasurable jolts through you each and every time. “P-please,” you moaned as his eyes lit up with a warm sort of wonder as he watched you take the pleasure he offered. “I need you soft, pliable, soaked, my sweet. I will not harm you deliberately, take the pleasure I’m offering,” he said as he slowly rose, keeping eye contact with you at all times while his slick finger lowered and found your opening.

You panted, your hands grasping at the covers beneath you, while he leaned over you, supporting his weight on one hand while the other stayed at your core. “All the pleasure,” he affirmed as he sank a digit into you. Slowly, gently, carefully stretching you open for him. You moaned and panted, your head pushed into the pillow as you took in the foreign sensation of having something inside you. “My sweet,” he whispered before kissing your exposed neck, still working his finger in and out of you most gently, softly, nearly caressing your insides.

His thumb found its way to your aching clit, stroking it in slow circles while his finger kept up its even pace — it felt as if you’d go mad with the pleasurable torture. “Please, Christopher,” you moaned and he replied with a deep hum of a groan before capturing your lips with his own while he adjusted himself to hover above you — still keeping up the attentions he lavished your core with. “Soon, my sweet star, soon.” He upped the pace a tad, hardening the circling of your clit with that wide thumb of his while his tongue delved in to dance with yours. Your hands found his shoulders, caressing and gripping in intervals while your body seemed to seamlessly shift beneath him. Your legs widened further, your back arched ever so slightly, all while your nerves seemed to tighten and burn with something you weren’t sure you could handle.

You moaned into his mouth, he laid more weight atop you — forcing his hand to rest fully against your core while keeping up the pleasurable touch. The heavy breathing of you both filled the room, your moans swallowed by him as his groans were captured by your mouth. A mixture of bliss and tension within your body.

“You are most delicate. Most beautiful, wonderful,” he said as your mouths parted. Your eyes fluttered open only to find him looking at you with the most devastating look of want and desire. His features were those of someone starved of what they wished for and who was now able to consume that very desire wholly. “My love,” you whispered while his finger plunged a bit harder into you, the golden glow of the candle showing nothing but perfection above you. “My star, my missing star,” he groaned before pulling out his finger to an incoherent plea of yours. You felt deprived, empty without him inside you.

He licked his finger clean with a hum so deep you could feel it in your own toes. He’s tasting me, you thought with a mixture of horror and bewildering want. Your insides clenched around nothing and you could have sworn madness crept in as he took away that touch.

“Delicious,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “Delicious, and mine to worship ardently.” He moved higher above you, his hand dipping back down between you both. “Christopher?” you asked as he rose a bit higher by straightening his arm. Your eyes fell down only to see him stroking his bulging cock with the very hand he had just pleasured you with. The tip of his cock, it was covered in glistening pre-cum, he swirled his finger over it twice before pushing down — aligning himself to you while you watched with trepidation and yearning.

“I shall be most gentle, my sweet,” he said quietly, the gravelly voice like music to your soul with its hints of desperation and care. “Look at me, only me,” he said and you did. Your eyes shifted from his cock between your legs to those mesmerising eyes of his while he leaned forward ever so slightly.

You felt the tip of him, and before you had a chance to adjust to the idea of his entirety being able to fit within you he pushed forward with a gentle thrust. He groaned while your eyes fluttered at the sudden sensation which wasn't quite comfortable. “You are doing so well, my star. So well,” he praised while he kissed your forehead before doing the same to each of your cheeks while pushing further in. You moaned with a scrunching of your nose and eyebrows, your body fighting the intrusion. “Relax for me, my sweet. Relax, and grant me access,” he whispered in a near purr while laying half atop you, supported by his knees and arms. And, you did. You relaxed under his gentle words, his pleading for you to let him in.

He moaned, a most heavenly sound, as he pushed the last bit of himself in as your insides stretched and softened to accommodate him. The pinches and twangs of pain were not nearly as bad as you had imagined and over far more swiftly than you would have thought. In the lack of pain, there was only pleasure to be found. His warm body, his thick cock filling you completely while his warm breath danced across your neck and shoulder before his lips kissed the pulse point below your ear most gently.

Christopher began to move, each thrust slickened by you coating him with your want. Your body tensed and curled beneath him as he gently claimed all of you and there would never be another man you wished to know you in such a manner. You were only for him, as you hoped and wished that you would be the only one for him from that day onward.

As he upped the pace, his breathing turned ragged and harsh while you witnessed the restraint he held himself with. He was being so gentle with you, each thrust fast but caring, each plunge into your core a caress of the most loving kind. You wanted all of him, your moaning of his name all you could manage as he took your innocence with a devotion unlike any you could have ever imagined being worthy of.

“Please,” you whispered as he kissed your shoulder. “Please, I feel-, feel-, haaa—” “My sweet,” he panted. “You are mine to worship,” he continued while his hand stroked its way down to your joining. You cried out as his finger found your clit and began to stroke it most deliciously while he managed to keep thrusting into you. The sensations were overwhelming, but oh so good. “That’s it,” he said while your legs tensed and an overwhelming need for something terrifyingly powerful began to take over. “I — oh — I need-, haaa—” you moaned as he kept up the motion, the thrusting, the caresses and kisses and sounds which had you on the edge of something your body desperately sought. It was beyond a want, far more a need than anything else and it came from him — from what he was doing to you.

“Let go,” he groaned while his tempo stuttered, as if he were on the edge as well. As if he were right there with you, feeling something inexplicably wonderfully tight. “No, no, no I—” “Let go, let it go, darling,” he said in a barely coherent voice while moans spilt from between those thin lips you wished to kiss for an eternity.

His thumb pushed harder, sending a jolt of ecstasy through your entire body, making you cry out his name in a strained garble while every muscle in your body began to tremble as pleasure filled each part of you. He groaned and stilled, a pulsing from you and him mixing within you as warmth spurted into you while you were lost to the unfathomable pleasure he offered you, his finger gently slowed to ease you out of the mind-numbing sensations that took such control of your body it felt as if you had been possessed by him.

“Beautiful… Wonderful… My sweet star,” he said as he half-laid on you while you both caught your breaths. The pounding of his heart reached your own and it felt for a moment as if they were beating in tune with each other. “That was… amazing,” you exhaled as his hooked nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You, are amazing.” “I believe this was your work, my love,” you confessed sheepishly even if your voice didn’t have the strength to take on a tone. “I shall endeavour to please and pleasure you always.” The way he spoke with such sincerity, such gentle love with no hint of anything but honesty. It made your toes curl just as he moved — a gasp slipping from you as he pulled out.

He did not even spare a second before he had moved over to the side of the room, stark naked in the golden candlelight, and you had just enough time to worry about rejection before he turned back with the softest of smiles and a damp cloth in his hand. “Let us take care of you,” he said. “If you will allow me?” “I…” But you nodded, feeling drained in a blissful manner yet aware enough to understand he wished to clean you which made you nervous — no matter how strange that was after what you had just done with him, it felt so incredibly intimate to have him wash you with a cloth down there.

After a few minutes, you were both clean and cuddled up under the thick covers in the bed you had woken up in after having been nearly buried alive in snow two weeks ago. That he had brought you to his bed that very night had had you in a fit at first, but now… well, now you looked back on it as the first declaration of his intentions with you.

“A light in the night,” he hummed while you lay on his chest with his arm wrapped securely around you, his warm finger playing a circle game on your hip. “Darling?” you asked quietly while you watched the grey hair on his chest shimmer in the candlelight. “You, my star… You are a light in the perpetual darkness of night my life has been for far too many years. Your smile alone could brighten my day more than the sun.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your body tensing outwardly while softening inwardly at his sweet words spoken in that perfect voice of his. He kissed the top of your head while you wondered if you were truly blessed with a Christmas miracle in the shape of him. “When spring comes, I shall wed you before all and declare my love for anyone and everyone to hear. My missing star, my sweet Y/n… How I have searched and longed for you.” “And I you, Christopher, my love. My Christmas miracle.”

He gently leaned your head back with his fingers beneath your chin before leaning forward to capture your lips in the most gentle of kisses. A sweet caress of lips in pure need to connect. “I love you,” he said, his eyes not leaving yours while you drew a hitched breath at the sincerity — at feeling just like he did. “And I love you,” you whispered while tears brimmed your eyes and he gently kissed your forehead with a soft smile of his own. “Christmas miracle indeed,” he whispered against your skin and you held on tighter to him while the single candle flame flickered beside you…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Oh gosh, that was that for our wonderfully sweet Colonel for this Rickmas fic - I hope you've enjoyed it darlings 🥰👏❤ I think they'll have a beautiful wedding in the spring, with lots of love and smiles all around, don't you? 🥰

Q: If you were to have a winter wedding, what would be the most important wintery-item/part of it? 😊 A: I think for me it would have to be snow - I feel like you can't really have a winter wedding if there's no beautifully sparkling white snow ❄❄❄

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[Dec:2023]

[snowblossomreads]

Day 10: Snow Prints

Pairing: Col. Brandon x Fem!Reader

Summary: In where something/someone is lost and found to the relief of everyone in Delaford Estate.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): fluff, missing family member 😌, worry and relief

Word Count: 1.4K (A tiny blurb!)

A/N: This story came out of nowhere tbh! I didn't have a Brandon fic planned but he showed up and was like I'm on this picture you can't just not write me. And he was correct and then suddenly showed me which prompt he would like. So everyone say thank you to the Colonel!

"Colonel Brandon sir! We've found her! We've found the poor darling! She was all covered with snow but she's safe now!"

The boisterous voice of his stout housekeeper rang through his drawing room where he had been pacing all morning worried to death, yet unable to do anything but wait until news of her return.

So this news that his little beloved was back had his heart pounding in both relief and joy, as his housekeeper appeared in front of him. Her cheeks were rosy, and she wore a large smile on her face as Brandon rushed up to her with so many questions about what had happened.

"Oh thank heavens is she well? Where is everyone? Please take me to them Martha!"

"Of course sir! Everyone is in the foyer, she is alright just warming up in front of the fire! Come sir! Oh goodness! how wonderful and such luck," Martha exclaimed with great energy as they both made their way in a rush to the foyer. 

When they arrived, they were greeted with the sight of two maids that were beside [Y/n] who was crouched down near the fire.

"Christopher!" [Y/n] cried, popping up from the floor in front of the fireplace, her husband's worried features, turning into relief when they saw each other.

A high pitched whimper came from her arms as the tiny, fluffy animal that was still damp from its sudden adventure outside was disturbed from the movement, still attempting to dry off and recover its energy.

"My love where was she? I thought we had lost her forever. Oh you silly little pup," Brandon chastised gently, kissing [Y/n] before stroking the poor animal who had been lost in the snow all day, after being accidentally let out by one of the farmhands.

The tiny thing whined and whimpered at the warm touch before snuggling close to [Y/n] and her layers of clothing for warmth.

"The silly girl somehow made it to the dove cote near the lake," [Y/n] spoke as she sat back down in front of the fire to help warm the puppy. Kneeling by her ,Brandon listened tentatively to her speak as he stroked the tiny animal who they had thought was lost to the snow. "Peter, the little farm hand, he saw her paw prints in the snow when they went searching, and there she was covered in snow and exhausted. Oh my poor thing don't ever frighten us again like that!"

The puppy whimpered in what seemed like agreement, and both [Y/n] and Brandon seemed to get a laugh of it.

"Shh, hopefully you’ve learned a lesson you mischievous little thing," Brandon cooed, his voice rumbling with emotion that most would find strange when it came to such an animal. "You nearly put your poor mother in an early grave," he added, as he watched [Y/n] cuddle the shaking pup.

"Oh she did she really did," [Y/n] agreed, eyes teary as she pressed her lips to the top of the dog's head grateful that it was alright.

Her little Tulip was okay. It may be strange, but the little pup was her favourite as it had been the runt of the litter, always fighting to get milk from it's mother's teets. Her litter mates also seemed to be keen on stepping all over her and [Y/n]'s poor heart couldn't take the squeals that she would let out.

And maybe because she too had always been treated as less by her family and others that she had begged Brandon to let her keep her. And Brandon, with a soul as soft as his, allowed her to, seeing how desperate she was to care for the sweet pup.

So he knew, when one of the servants had told him that the animal had run off that they had to find it as soon as possible. Not only because snow had begun to fall quickly and the little thing was too young to survive. But, he knew how devastated [Y/n] would be if something happened to the animal as she was never the one to blame others, but to shoulder it herself. And he could not have his darling one do that.

The relief they tasted was sweet, as the little animal let out a little yawn and cozied itself up into [Y/n]'s bosom, and they both let out a small laugh at how comfy it looked now.

"Mayhap she's learned her lesson that the snow is not quite to her liking," [Y/n] whispered, smiling at the little thing that she cradle just as one would a child.

As one would a child. She bit her lips at that thought. The thought of cradling a child  that was both hers and Christopher’s making. It had her heart fluttering a bit.

"Yes, hopefully she will not try to give us a scare again, though it seems that she just as her mother, ]has a mischievous side," the older man teased as she looked up at him with a small smile, yet she said nothing for a moment as she stroked the dog in her arms.

Just as her mother.

His words echoed in her mind, and while they were said in jest she couldn't stop thinking about the phrase. There was only silence and the crackling of the wood in the fireplace before she spoke gently and hushedly only wishing for her husband to hear.

"Christopher I-." Pausing, [Y/n] looked up to search for the maids who had been in the room with her along with Martha, but they were all gone. Which left the Brandon's alone to their little reunion.

When had that happened? No worries though, it was actually perfect timing.

The older man looked at her with a little raise of an eyebrow, yet his gentle gaze was steady as he watched her shyly look down at the animal who was snoozing away now.

"I wonder whether or not we would make good parents?" She whispered, averting the gaze of her husband's for fear that his eyes would tell her the opposite of what she wished him to say. "Of course, considering this little one tried to get it self lost in a snow storm today, mayhap I think I may not be too fit for it."

"Darling stop! Do not say such a cruel thing about yourself," he pleaded, fully sitting next to her and wrapping an arm around her shoulder, bringing her to lay her head on his own shoulder. "One can hardly measure their aptitude for motherhood based on a young dog running away. It was not you who let this silly one out in any case."

"Yes I know but-."

"No, I will no hear of you speak cruelly about yourself," he interrupted sternly, turning and leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "You would make a wonderful mother, I am sure of it. It is me who I think am too old for fatherhood."

"You too old?" [Y/n] asked, flabbergasted with eyes going wide like saucers because it had to be the most incredulous thing she had heard. "Chirstopher my love, you have more life in you than men with less winters on them. You are the sweetest, gentlest, most generous soul that one could ever meet. And you say you are not fit to be a father? Mayhap we both need a lesson on being less cruel towards oneself."

"Mayhap we do…but my words they are true, you would make a wonderful mother my love a wonderful mother indeed."

"And you a wonderful father Christopher." She responded softly.

They turned to face each other, a smile on their lips and eyes full of warmth as the fireplace in front of them warmed them as well. Brandon's arm opened to embrace his wife, and as she leaned in to his hold they were both startled by the high pitch and sudden,

"Awoo!" From the little dog that was being held. It startled them and caused them to look at the dog who had woken up suddenly.

Its beady eyes stared at its parent's as if it was asking them what they were doing and they both couldn't help the laughter that flowed through them.

"And you shall make the children a wonderful companion when they arrive." [Y/n] giggled, patting the dog who let out another playfully bark before cuddling in the arms of its mother who went to cuddle its father.

A/N: heheh i know it was short but i hope it was still a nice read! the colonel is such a soft man and i love that!

Tag: @deepperplexity

[galbalmuhet]

Alan... my perfect love ❤️

[bethanydelleman]

Hello! I'm a somewhat new follower and I've really appreciated the posts you share about JAFF and characterization. I'm writing my own at the moment and I thought to ask you about the first names of Mr & Mrs Bennet. I'm seeing Thomas and Frances in a lot of fanfic but no set names in canon?

Do you know if these were names that got enshrined in fanon because of one particular fanfic, or if there's some Austen letter somewhere where she suggests these names? Thank you for your help!

Firstly, why do you need to name them? Jane Austen never did, Mr. and Mrs. Bennet rarely interact with anyone who would be socially able to call them by their first name, and when they do they are called either "sister" "brother" or "Mrs./Mr. Bennet". They call each other by their formal title even at home or use "my dear".

In my mind, you only need a first name for either Mr. or Mrs. Bennet is they are going to have scenes with a social equal who uses their first name to address them (even friends don't always do this) or if you are writing lengthy scenes with them alone. It may be annoying to us to use formal titles, but it's in keeping with Jane Austen.

Also, I saw this once in a fic, but there is no older man who calls his friend, "Lastname", this seems to be a young man nickname thing. But then Jane Austen doesn't get into the older folks lives that much.

I mention this because often in JAFF, Mrs. Bennet is introduced as "Mrs. Firstname Bennet" and then her name is never relevant to the plot or even used by another character (or if it is, it breaks rules of decorum). So I tend to avoid naming any character Jane Austen didn't name except in dire need.

Now, here is the can of worms that is JAFF naming conventions:

Fanny as Mrs. Bennet's first name annoys the crap out of me, because she most likely shares a name with a daughter (and even if their firstborn died, people would rename with the same name until one lived if it was an important passing-on-name). Her name is most likely Jane, second likely Elizabeth. "Fanny" comes from P&P 1995, I believe it is said by Mrs. Gardiner. I think it's used so widely because people find the name "Fanny" funny (butt/vagina depending on where you live) and because people find the frequency of first names in Jane Austen annoying (It can be tricky when you write crossovers let me tell you!)

Thomas is commonly the name of Mr. Bennet but if you choose something else no one will be mad.

Mad? Oh yeah, check reviews of published JAFF, people get ANGRY if you name Colonel Fitzwilliam anything except Richard. Like they say it pulls them out of the story and they hate it. They take off stars. If you are planning to use Colonel Fitzwilliam, either avoid naming him (my method) or call him Richard because people are dead set on that name.

Which is silly because his first name is clearly Darcy 😉

People will also find it strange, but probably won't be to mad if you call the earl anything but The Earl of Matlock (1995 again). I follow Austen and use Earl ----. I think that's all the P&P naming tropes. Colonel Brandon is most often called "Christopher"

Why?

The JAFF fandom has existed for a long time, long enough to create very pervasive fanon versions of the characters. Fanny Bennet is shrill, Richard Fitzwilliam swashbuckles and is Darcy's best friend, Mary Bennet is usually secretly Elizabeth once she comes out of her shell, and Caroline is a Screaming Bag of Evil. These fanon versions are so dominant that I often get negative feedback for going back to the book and writing them as close to canon as I can.

People hate when I married Colonel Fitzwilliam and Caroline, even though Caroline isn't that bad and Colonel Fitzwilliam straight up said he would marry for money in the darn novel. I also refused to name him in that fic.

So what you need to do is decide if you are going to carry on the tradition of Jane Austen or JAFF. Either is fine, people love both in most cases, but there are established norms and conventions in JAFF fanon versions that are wildly different than what is actually in Pride & Prejudice. So just be aware of that and pick which version you like.

Edit: also thank you question asker for your appreciation. I got too caught up in answering your question.

[ten-cent-sleuth]

4, 5, and 30? For the fic writers ask?

Yayay, thank you so much for the ask!

4. A story idea you haven’t written yet?

Well. Most of them. xD But I’ll talk about the third WIP on my roster: my post-“Grace” angsty fic, as I call it in my pinned post. (The first and second WIPs in line I’ve technically started writing for!)

I don’t want to go into specifics since I am really excited to hear people’s reactions to The Reveal, but basically the story will explore my take on who the little girl is / what she symbolises to Carter in “Grace”. Because of course I’ve read the common perspective that Grace represents Carter’s wish for a child and stands in for her future daughter with Jack—but it’s never sit perfectly right with me, so this fic will be my alternative two cents.

And also an excuse to have Sam and Jack meet another mirror version of themselves! (This is what I was referring to in my tags on this post, actually!)

Ngl, this just might be the WIP I’m most excited about right now. But ah! I have my “48 Hours” fic and my “Moebius” fic to finish first. xD

5. First sentence of the fifth paragraph of an unpublished WIP?

This is from Old Thorns, a canon divergence AU for Sense and Sensibility that I will never give up on.

Major General Ashby subscribed to that rare but forcible conviction that all good things are worth not waiting for.

I cheated—this isn’t quiiiiiite the fifth paragraph—but oh well, the real fifth paragraph’s first sentence was not very intriguing. Ashby is an OC who is a friend of Colonel Brandon’s. He facilitates Brandon’s spending time with the Dashwood sisters while they’re all in Town, a plan by Marianne to surreptitiously console Elinor.

Because the canon divergence I mentioned? Yeah, it’s that Marianne finds out about Edward’s engagement much earlier but believes Elinor is unaware and thus takes it upon herself to protect and prepare her. If this sounds convoluted and contrived, trust me, my outline Doc is way worse.

But I love this WIP. I love it so, so much, and I really hope it won’t be an “unpublished” one next year.

30. Share a fic you’re especially proud of.

Sometimes I feel like “Inextricably” is when I peaked and everything I write from now on will pale and tremble in comparison, but I’m not going to share that one here. (Although you’re free to check it out on my AO3, ofc. xD) Instead, here is my one and only—as of now—X-Files fanfic since @agent-troi recently made me think about it so I just reread it last night.

I am proud of how many threads I pulled through various episodes, scenes, and themes to weave together this fic. And still there was one major parallel I didn’t get to include because it didn’t end up fitting into the flow of Mulder and Scully’s conversation. (It was about Scully’s grief about her father.) I also didn’t get to include several scenes near the start because they were dragging me down while the deadline was approaching, but I’m proud of all the now-unused research I made into cross-species influenza and immunisation science for those scenes, lol.

Some of the emotionally wrought lines (in particular I think of “See? You knew what to say to her after all” and “like he was holding his own beating, bleeding heart” – quoted from memory so might not be exact) took me by surprise. Like they came out of me without planning, without preconception, and whenever I revisit the fic, I genuinely still cannot believe I came up with them. In general I just think this is one of my most emotionally charged fics, and I’m proud to know I’m capable of it!

And of course, I am forever proud of my courage in signing up for my first gift exchange and in vanquishing my anxiety about a) posting in such an intimidatingly big fandom as TXF and b) writing for one of my favourite authors in the fandom who also happened to be quite well known?? Ig ultimately “Nature’s Impossibilities” is just very special to me, although I definitely don’t think it’s perfect. (Some of the aforementioned weaving is kind of forced-sounding in the text, agh!) But yeah, quite proud of it. :P

Keep the fic writer asks a-comin’! 👻

Thank you again for the questions. :)

[rusakkowrites]

THAT SCENE for Not Quite So Trifling please :)

Yay, thanks for asking! This is a fic I particularly enjoy talking about. <3

That scene in Not Quite So Trifling is the part where Mr Knightley tries to convince Emma that his disability makes it impossible for them to marry. I was thinking about the way neither Mr Knightley nor Emma seems to see the age difference as much of a problem in canon and about the role that his physical fitness plays there. Austen makes it very clear that he's "a man in his prime" - we see him walking and riding rather than using his carriage, and in the ball scene at the Crown, Emma thinks about how vigorous and fit he looks compared with the older men around him. It's very different from the way, say, Marianne Dashwood views Colonel Brandon.

So what would happen if Mr Knightley wasn't as confident - what if he was temporarily weakened by illness or even permanently disabled? Would that change how he viewed his chances as a suitor? If he found out that Emma loved him, would he (considering the prejudices of the time) think that she'd be better off with another man? Wouldn't it be fun to write a scene where he's trying to sacrifice his happiness for Emma's sake but she's not having it...?

And that's how I ended up writing this fic. :D