#colonel brandon x reader

[muiitoloko]

If that’s okay for you if I may request

Colonel Brandon If that’s okay? Cause I read all your Alan rickman stories and I love them all so very much! ❤️❤️❤️ Thank you for writing those

Title: You are you

Summary: You are everything he needs, even if he doesn't realize it initially.

Pairing: Colonel Brandon × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Smut, Madness, Self-criticism, inferiority complex, unrequited love, anguish.

Author's notes: I've been wrestling with writer's block for a while, trying to figure out how to craft a one-shot with Brandon. Then, a spark of inspiration hit me while watching the Netflix series "Queen Charlotte." Drawing from her character and that of King George, I found the muse I needed to create this piece. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for your support!

Colonel Brandon stood on the sprawling grounds of his estate, his thoughts consumed by the recent turn of events. Marianne had chosen John over him, and though he felt a pang of sadness and disappointment, he knew he had to respect her decision. Seeing her happy with another man brought him a bittersweet sense of contentment, knowing that she had found the love and happiness she deserved.

But as the days passed, Brandon couldn't shake the lingering emptiness in his heart. He knew he needed to move on, to find a wife who could give him children and heirs to carry on his legacy. And so, he reluctantly resumed his search for a suitable match, his heart no longer seeking love, but rather a practical solution to his need for a family.

It was during one of his social engagements that Brandon encountered you, the eldest daughter of the duke and duchess, a woman living in seclusion on their vast estate. He had heard whispers of your eccentricities, but he paid them little heed, his focus solely on finding a wife who could fulfill his need for heirs.

As Brandon got to know you better, he discovered the truth behind the rumors surrounding your behavior. Your parents, the duke and duchess, confessed to him the challenges you faced, the periods of aggression and madness that plagued you intermittently. Despite their wealth and connections, they had been unable to find a solution, leaving them resigned to your fate.

But Brandon was undeterred by the revelation, his pragmatic nature guiding him forward. He saw in you the potential for a suitable match, a woman who, despite her flaws, could provide him with the children he so desperately desired. And for your parents, you represented a burden they were eager to unburden themselves of, a means to secure your future and their peace of mind.

For Brandon, it seemed like the perfect compromise—a marriage born out of duty rather than love, but one that could fulfill both his and your parents' needs. And so, he approached you with a proposal, his demeanor calm and composed as he laid out his intentions with unwavering clarity.

As Colonel stood before you, awaiting your response to his proposal, you couldn't help but feel a whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. Despite your eccentricities and the challenges you faced, you couldn't deny the practicality of his offer. It was a solution that could benefit both parties involved, easing the burden on your parents while providing Colonel Brandon with the heirs he desired.

Lost in thought, you retreated to the comfort of your study, surrounded by shelves filled with notebooks containing your innermost thoughts and musings. Dressed in your usual attire of men's clothing, a reflection of your unconventional nature, you pondered the implications of Colonel Brandon's proposal.

As you delved deep into contemplation, the weight of your decision pressed heavily upon you. You knew that accepting Colonel Brandon's offer meant relinquishing any hope of a love-filled marriage, resigning yourself to a union of duty and practicality. Yet, the thought of bringing relief to your parents, sparing them the burden of dealing with your unpredictable episodes, tugged at your heartstrings.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of introspection, you made your decision. Stepping out of your study, you faced Colonel Brandon with a mixture of determination and resignation in your eyes.

"I accept your proposal," you announced, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging within you. "But under one condition." Colonel Brandon regarded you with curiosity, awaiting your terms with an air of patience and understanding.

"I ask for a cabin of my own on the estate's land," you continued, your gaze unwavering. "Far from the mansion, where I can retreat during my periods of madness. It is my only request."

Brandon considered your condition carefully, weighing the implications of your plea. After a moment of contemplation, he nodded in agreement, a hint of understanding softening his features.

"I see no harm in granting your request," he replied, his voice calm and reassuring. "In fact, it may prove to be beneficial for both of us. A space of your own, away from the confines of the mansion, where you can find solace during difficult times."

A sense of relief washed over you at his understanding, grateful for his willingness to accommodate your needs. With a silent nod of gratitude, you accepted his offer, knowing that it was the best course of action for both you and your family.

Brandon didn't see anything wrong with granting your request for a cabin of your own on the estate's land. In fact, he saw it as a practical solution to ensure both of your well-being. If you were to experience periods of madness, it would be best for you to have a space where you could retreat and find solace without causing disruption to the household.

So, Brandon accepted your condition without hesitation, understanding the importance of accommodating your needs. However, he didn't anticipate just how distant you would be after the wedding. Days turned into weeks, and Brandon found himself growing increasingly impatient with your absence from the main house.

Despite his frustration, Brandon respected your need for space and independence, trusting that you would come to him when you were ready. However, as the days stretched on without any sign of your presence, Brandon's patience began to wear thin.

One night, overcome with loneliness and longing for your company, Brandon made his way to the cabin where you spent most of your time. He approached the door with a sense of trepidation, unsure of what he would find on the other side.

As he entered the cabin unannounced, Brandon was greeted by the sight of you standing by a telescope, your eyes fixed on the starry night sky above. Books and notebooks were scattered around the room, evidence of your scholarly pursuits and intellectual curiosity.

You turned to him with a smile as he walked in, your expression one of genuine warmth and affection. Your nightgown billowed around you, your hair cascading in loose waves down your back, and Brandon couldn't help but think how beautiful you looked in that moment.

But despite the tenderness in your smile, Brandon couldn't shake the frustration that simmered beneath the surface. He had missed you, missed the sound of your voice and the touch of your hand, and he couldn't understand why you chose to spend so much time away from him.

"Good evening, Colonel," you greeted him politely, your tone casual and unaffected by his unexpected visit. "What brings you to my humble abode tonight?"

Brandon struggled to contain his frustration as he responded, his voice tinged with a hint of irritation. "I've come to see you, of course," he replied curtly, his eyes searching yours for any hint of emotion. "I've missed you, [Your Name]. It's been weeks since I last saw you, and I couldn't bear to spend another night alone in our bed."

Your smile faltered slightly at his words, a flash of guilt crossing your features when you met his gaze. You knew you had been neglecting him, consumed by your own thoughts and passions, but you hadn't realized just how much your absence had affected him. Pushing aside your feelings of guilt, you tried to divert the conversation, eager to steer clear of any discussion about your relationship.

"So, Colonel," you began, your voice light and cheerful as you gestured towards the telescope beside you. "Have you ever gazed upon the stars and wondered about the mysteries of the universe? It's truly fascinating how much we have yet to discover out there."

But Brandon wasn't so easily swayed by your attempt to change the subject. He could sense the underlying tension between you, the unspoken questions hanging in the air, and he knew they needed to be addressed.

"Indeed, the stars are a wonder to behold," Brandon replied diplomatically, his tone measured as he studied your expression. "But I believe there are matters closer to home that require our attention."

You paused at that, your smile fading as you met Brandon's earnest gaze. His words hung between you, heavy with unspoken implications, and you knew there was no avoiding the conversation any longer.

"What do you mean, Colonel?" you asked, your voice tinged with apprehension as you braced yourself for his response.

Brandon took a step closer to you, his expression serious as he met your eyes with unwavering determination. "I married you for one reason, and one reason only: to have heirs," he said bluntly, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. "And how can we achieve that if the two of us barely see each other?"

You stopped at that, your gaze locking with his as you took in the gravity of his words. For a moment, you felt a pang of guilt at your own negligence, knowing that you had failed to uphold your end of the bargain. But then, a sense of determination washed over you as you realized what Brandon was implying.

Was he demanding that you fulfill your duty as a wife? Did he want... sex?

The thought made Brandon blush slightly, his cheeks tinged with embarrassment as he struggled to articulate his desires. But you weren't embarrassed; you were a 28-year-old woman, well aware of the implications of marital intimacy. Despite never having been intimate with a man before Brandon, you had spent enough time reading and learning from your already married sisters to understand the mechanics of such encounters.

And your first time with Brandon had been surprisingly pleasant. He had been kind and patient with you, guiding you through the experience with a gentle touch and reassuring words. In the aftermath, you had distanced yourself from him, convinced that it was for his own protection. But now, faced with his unspoken request, you realized that you couldn't continue to avoid him indefinitely.

With a resolute nod, you dropped the notebook in your hand and approached Brandon, closing the distance between you with determined steps. His eyes widened slightly in surprise as you reached out to touch his cheek, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw with a tender touch.

"Why not start today, then?" you suggested softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "After all, it is our duty as husband and wife to fulfill each other's needs, is it not?"

Brandon's blush deepened at your boldness, but he nodded in agreement, his eyes filled with a mixture of anticipation and embarrassment. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, unsure of how to proceed.

You took the initiative, stepping closer to him until there was barely an inch of space between your bodies. Leaning in, you captured his lips in a gentle kiss, your heart racing with anticipation as you felt Brandon respond eagerly, his arms encircling you in a warm embrace.

And as you melted into his embrace, you knew that despite the unconventional nature of your marriage, you were determined to honor your side of the bargain. After all, you were both bound by duty and obligation, and it was time to fulfill the promises you had made to each other, no matter the cost.

As Brandon and you stood in the dimly lit cabin, the air thick with anticipation, he couldn't help but feel a sense of trepidation mingled with desire. His heart still belonged to Marianne, his unrequited love for her a constant ache in his chest. But as he looked into your eyes, he saw more than just a means to an end; he saw a woman who deserved his respect and consideration, despite the circumstances of their marriage.

With gentle hands, Brandon began to undress you, his touch tender and reverent as he revealed your delicate form beneath the fabric. He couldn't help but admire the curve of your body, the softness of your skin, as he trailed kisses along your neck and collarbone, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

You responded eagerly to his touch, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, urging him to explore every inch of your body. Brandon's heart raced with excitement as he felt your arousal building, his own desire growing with each soft moan that escaped your lips.

As Brandon guided you to the bed, he felt a surge of anticipation coursing through him, his body responding instinctively to the intimacy between you. He couldn't deny the pleasure he felt at being so close to you, the warmth of your skin against his own igniting a fire within him that he hadn't felt in years.

With practiced hands, Brandon explored your body with a gentle touch, his fingers tracing patterns of desire along your skin as he elicited soft gasps and moans from your lips. He marveled at the way you responded to his touch, the way your body arched and trembled beneath him, as if seeking more of his affection.

And when he finally entered you, it was with a reverence and tenderness that took your breath away. Brandon moved slowly, savoring each moment as he lost himself in the sensation of your bodies moving together in perfect harmony. He felt a sense of connection with you that he hadn't experienced in years, a bond forged in the heat of their shared passion.

But even as Brandon surrendered himself to the pleasure of their union, his thoughts strayed to Marianne, his beloved lost to him forever. He couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to make love to her, to hear her soft moans of pleasure as he brought her to the heights of ecstasy.

But Marianne didn't want him, that much was clear. Despite Brandon's unwavering love and devotion to her, she had chosen another, leaving him with a heart heavy with sorrow and longing. But Brandon was a man of honor, and he knew that he had to be content with what he had, which was you.

You, the woman whose mind was plagued by bouts of madness and unpredictability, yet whose heart was filled with kindness and compassion. And as Brandon lay beside you, his body still humming with the aftershocks of their lovemaking, he couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over him. He knew that he should be focusing on fulfilling his duty as a husband, on siring heirs to carry on his legacy, but a part of him couldn't deny the pleasure he found in being with you.

But even as Brandon reveled in the intimacy between you, he couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that gnawed at him. He knew that his feelings for you were born out of necessity rather than passion, that he was simply using you to fulfill his own needs. And yet, a part of him couldn't help but enjoy the pleasure you brought him, the warmth of your body against his own.

As the days went by, Brandon found himself spending more and more time in your company, seeking solace and companionship in your presence. He tried to convince himself that it was all in service of their shared goal of starting a family, but deep down, he knew that he enjoyed being with you, in spite of everything.

He admired your resilience and admired your intelligence and creativity, seeing beyond the surface to the kind and compassionate woman beneath. You, in turn, found solace in Brandon's presence, grateful for his unwavering support and understanding. He treated you with kindness and respect, never once judging you for your eccentricities, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards him for accepting you as you were.

But as the saying goes, all good things are short-lived, and Brandon saw this firsthand when he witnessed one of your episodes of madness. One night, he woke up to the sound of whispers and found you in the bedroom, talking to yourself and drawing on the wall.

Brandon's heart clenched with concern as he approached you hesitantly, calling out your name in a gentle tone. But when you turned to him, your eyes unfocused and distant, he realized that you didn't recognize him.

"Are you Venus?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper as you regarded him with a mixture of awe and confusion.

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the realization dawning on him that you didn't recognize him as your husband. He took a step closer to you, his voice calm and reassuring as he reminded you of his true identity.

"No, my dear, I'm Colonel Christopher Brandon, your husband," he replied softly, his eyes pleading with you to see reason. "Please, come back to me."

But you shook your head stubbornly, dropping the chalk in your hand as you turned away from him, your mind set on a singular purpose. Ignoring Brandon's protests, you left the bedroom, navigating the dark hallways of the mansion with determined strides.

Brandon followed close behind you, his heart pounding with fear and anxiety as he called out to you, hoping to bring you back to your senses. But you paid him no heed, your mind consumed by delusions of Venus coming to take you away.

As you stepped out into the garden, your eyes fixed on the starry sky above, you spotted the bright gleam of Venus shining in the darkness. With a sense of urgency, you called out to the celestial body, your voice filled with longing and desperation.

"Venus, my love, please come get me," you pleaded, your voice echoing in the stillness of the night. "I'm ready to go with you."

Your screams alerted the mansion's employees, who came rushing outside to see what was causing the commotion. Brandon watched helplessly as you shed your nightgown, revealing your naked body to the world as you continued to call out for Venus.

Unable to stand idly by any longer, Brandon sprang into action, moving to cover you. But you pushed him away angrily, refusing to let anyone come between you and your imagined lover.

"Get away from me!" you cried, your voice tinged with frustration as you brushed him aside. "Venus will come for me, you'll see!"

Seeing that you were beyond reason, Brandon turned to the servants, instructing them to fetch a blanket to cover you. The maids obeyed without question, rushing to fulfill his command as Brandon's butler stepped forward to assist in calming you down.

But despite their efforts, you continued to scream and cry out for Venus, your mind lost to the grips of madness. It wasn't until Brandon made a bold declaration that you finally seemed to calm down, your eyes focusing on him with a newfound clarity.

"I am Venus," Brandon announced firmly, his voice filled with conviction as he met your gaze with unwavering determination.

For a moment, you stared at him in confusion, uncertainty flickering in your eyes. But then, as if a switch had been flipped, you seemed to accept his words, your body relaxing as you allowed the maids to cover you with a blanket.

Brandon wrapped the blanket around you protectively, his heart heavy with relief as he gazed down at you with a mix of sadness and concern. Taking your hand in his, he led you toward the cabin, his mind racing with thoughts of how best to care for you in the coming days.

As you walked beside him, your gaze fixed on him with newfound adoration and confusion, you couldn't help but question the reality of the situation. Was Brandon truly Venus, the god of love and desire, come to whisk you away to a world of eternal bliss? Or was he simply a mortal man, doing his best to care for you in your time of need?

"Are you really Venus?" you asked hesitantly, your voice tinged with uncertainty as you looked up at him for answers.

Brandon met your gaze with a gentle smile, his eyes filled with warmth and compassion as he squeezed your hand reassuringly. "Yes, my dear," he replied softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I am Venus, and I'm here to take care of you."

And as you clung to him, expressing your belief that he was Venus and how you had waited so long for him to come for you, Brandon felt a pang of sadness tug at his heart. He did not like the hope he saw in your eyes, the desperate longing for happiness that seemed to radiate from your every word. While he was relieved that you finally seemed content, he could not help but feel conflicted about perpetuating the illusion that he was Venus.

Leading you gently to the cabin, Brandon guided you to sit on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you as you looked at him with such love and adoration, still addressing him as Venus. The realization that the duke and duchess hadn't mentioned this aspect of your condition left Brandon feeling unsettled. He had been led to believe that you were simply isolated in your cabin, dealing with your episodes of madness alone, but he hadn't expected this level of delusion.

Should he continue to play along with your delusions, maintaining the facade of being the god of love in order to keep you calm and prevent any further aggression? Or should he confront the reality of the situation, risking triggering another episode?

Sighing inwardly, Brandon decided to prioritize your well-being above all else. For now, it seemed best to go along with your belief that he was Venus, at least until he could figure out how to help you through this latest episode.

"Of course, my dear," Brandon replied softly, his voice filled with warmth and compassion as he took your hands in his. "I have waited for you just as eagerly. Now that we are together, I am here to take care of you, always."

Gently, Brandon helped you lay down on the bed, tucking the blankets around you to keep you warm. He listened quietly as you spoke, your words filled with a mixture of hope and desperation. You reached out to him, pleading for Venus to take you to the stars, to make you happy and relieve you of the burden you felt you were to others.

"Venus, my love, please take me away with you," you murmured, your voice soft and filled with longing. "I want to love you, and if you love me in return, I won't be a burden to anyone anymore."

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in your voice cutting him to the core. He wanted to reach out to you, to comfort you and reassure you that you were not a burden, but he knew that now was not the time for such revelations. Instead, he remained silent, his gaze filled with compassion and understanding as he listened to your pleas.

"I understand, my dear," Brandon said softly, his voice gentle as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your forehead. "Venus loves you deeply, and he would never see you as a burden. You bring light and joy to his world, and he cherishes every moment he spends with you."

Your eyes shone with tears as you looked up at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Despite the turmoil in your mind, you found solace in Brandon's words, finding comfort in the belief that Venus was there to guide you to happiness.

"Thank you, Venus," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude as you closed your eyes, surrendering to the warmth of sleep. "I love you."

Brandon watched over you as you drifted off to sleep, his heart heavy with guilt and sorrow. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was deceiving you, allowing you to believe in a fantasy that could never be true. But for now, all he could do was be there for you, to offer you comfort and support in whatever form you needed.

And as Brandon lay down next to you, he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered in the air. Despite his best efforts to reassure himself that everything would be alright, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach, a silent prayer escaping his lips as he hoped you wouldn't have another episode of madness.

Closing his eyes, Brandon tried to push aside his worries, allowing exhaustion to finally overtake him as he drifted off into a fitful sleep. But even in slumber, his mind remained troubled, haunted by visions of you lost in the throes of delusion, calling out for a love that could never be.

The next morning, Brandon awoke to the soft light filtering through the windows of the cabin, his eyes lingering on your sleeping form beside him. For a moment, he allowed himself to revel in the tranquility of the moment, the gentle rise and fall of your chest a reassuring presence in the stillness of the room.

But as the events of the previous night came rushing back to him, Brandon's heart clenched with guilt and sorrow. He knew that he couldn't continue to ignore the reality of your condition, that he needed to take action to ensure your well-being and safety.

With a heavy sigh, Brandon rose from the bed, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber. Quietly, he dressed himself, his movements slow and deliberate as he prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead.

Leaving you sleeping in the cabin, Brandon made his way to the main residence, his mind racing with thoughts of how to best care for you in the days to come. As he entered the familiar halls of the mansion, he was greeted by the sight of the butler, who had served his family faithfully for years.

Without preamble, Brandon approached the butler, his expression grave as he relayed the events of the previous night and his concerns about your condition. He instructed the butler to pass on the information to the other servants, emphasizing the importance of treating you with kindness and understanding.

But as Brandon spoke, he couldn't help but notice the disapproving look that crossed the butler's face, a hint of disdain lingering in his gaze. It was clear that the butler harbored reservations about you and your suitability as Brandon's wife, a fact that didn't sit well with Brandon.

"Is something the matter, Jenkins?" Brandon inquired, his voice tinged with a note of concern as he regarded the butler with furrowed brows.

The butler hesitated for a moment before responding, his tone hesitant yet tinged with thinly veiled disapproval. "Forgive me, sir, but I cannot help but express my concerns regarding your choice of wife," he admitted reluctantly, his eyes darting away from Brandon's gaze.

Brandon's jaw tightened at the butler's words, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to contain his frustration. He knew that the butler's opinion held weight among the household staff, and he couldn't afford to have any doubts cast upon your character or his decision to marry you.

"I understand your reservations, Jenkins, but I would appreciate it if you refrained from passing judgment on [Your Name]," Brandon replied evenly, his voice laced with a hint of steel. "She is my wife, and I expect her to be treated with the respect and dignity she deserves."

Jenkins bowed his head slightly, a contrite expression crossing his features as he acknowledged Brandon's reprimand. "Forgive me, sir," he murmured apologetically. "I spoke out of turn. It's just... I never imagined that you would choose to marry someone like her."

Brandon's jaw clenched at Jenkins's words, his anger flaring anew at the implication behind them. "And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?" he demanded, his voice tinged with indignation.

Jenkins hesitated for a moment before responding, his tone hesitant yet tinged with thinly veiled disapproval. "I had heard rumors about her, sir, but I never thought they were true until last night," he admitted reluctantly, his eyes darting away from Brandon's gaze. "I cannot fathom why you would willingly take on such an unnecessary burden, sir. It would have been far wiser for you to marry Miss Dashwood."

As the butler's words hung in the air, Brandon felt a surge of frustration bubbling within him. How dare Jenkins question his choice of wife, especially in such a callous manner? Suppressing his anger, Brandon took a deep breath, his voice measured as he addressed the butler once more.

"Jenkins, I understand that you may have reservations, but it is not your place to pass judgment on my decisions," Brandon stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I married [Your Name] out of necessity, not out of choice. Miss Dashwood made her feelings clear to me, and I must respect her decision. As for [Your Name], she may be a burden, but she is a necessary one. I need a wife to conceive children, and she is the one I have chosen for that purpose."

There was a heavy silence in the room as Brandon's words sank in, his gaze never wavering from Jenkins's face. He could see the butler's discomfort, the conflict evident in his expression as he struggled to come to terms with Brandon's assertion.

But before Jenkins could respond, Brandon felt a shift in the atmosphere behind him. Turning around, he was met with the sight of you standing in the doorway, dressed in men's clothes, your expression unreadable as you listened to the conversation unfolding before you.

For a moment, Brandon's heart clenched with guilt at the thought of you overhearing the disparaging remarks about you. He opened his mouth to call out to you, to explain himself and reassure you of his commitment, but you brushed him off tiredly, expressing your need to retreat to your cabin for a few days.

"If the servants could bring me something to eat, I would be grateful," you added, your tone weary as you turned away from him and made your way towards the cabin. You were tired—tired of the constant struggles with your own mind, tired of being a burden to those around you, and tired of the expectations placed upon you as Colonel Brandon's wife.

Brandon followed closely behind you, his brow furrowed with worry as he tried to catch up to you. "Please, let me explain," he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. "I didn't mean for you to overhear that conversation. You're not a burden, [Your Name]. You're my wife, and I care about you deeply."

But you kept walking, your steps determined as you refused to meet his gaze. "It's okay, Colonel," you replied softly, your voice tinged with resignation. "We didn't marry for love, that much was always clear. You don't have to explain anything to me."

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the weight of your resignation heavy on his shoulders. He reached out to you, his hand hovering over your shoulder, but you shrugged him off gently, your eyes filled with sadness.

"I know I've always been a burden to everyone," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Maybe I always will be. But I'll fulfill my role in our agreement, Colonel. And I'll try not to be such a big burden to you."

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in your tone piercing him to the core. He wanted to reach out to you, to tell you that you were more than just a burden to him, but he knew that now was not the time for such declarations.

Instead, he watched helplessly as you disappeared into the cabin, the door closing softly behind you with a finality that left him feeling hollow inside. For a moment, he stood there in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have been and what still might be.

But as the days turned into weeks, Brandon found himself growing increasingly restless in your absence. He missed you, deeply, your presence a balm to his weary soul in the midst of life's uncertainties. And so, despite his reservations, he found himself seeking you out, longing to be near you once more.

Every night, he would wait for you to come to him, the anticipation building with each passing hour until he could no longer bear the silence of the empty bed. And when you finally arrived, he would hold you close, cherishing every moment of your fleeting embrace before the morning light came to steal you away once more.

Today was another one of those nights, and you arrived at the agreed time, wasting no time in starting to undress your male clothes, as you always did every night, while Brandon waited for you in bed, watching you undress, revealing your body to him. The routine had become familiar, almost comforting, in its predictability.

As you climbed into bed with him, Brandon couldn't help but notice the exhaustion etched into your features. He longed to hold you close, to lose himself in the warmth of your embrace, but he knew that tonight was different. Tonight, he needed to talk to you, to address the elephant in the room that had been looming over their marriage for far too long.

"Are you alright, [Your Name]?" Brandon asked softly, his voice filled with concern as he reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face. "You seem tired."

You sighed wearily, the weight of the day's events settling heavily on your shoulders. "I'm fine, Colonel," you replied, forcing a smile despite the fatigue evident in your voice. "Just a little tired, that's all."

Brandon studied you intently, his gaze searching your face for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. He wanted you, desperately, but he could see the weariness in your eyes, the toll that their arrangement was taking on you.

"Perhaps we could talk before... before we... make babies," Brandon suggested tentatively, his words carefully chosen as he broached the delicate subject. "I know it wasn't what we originally agreed upon, but I can't help but feel like we should talk to get to know each other better."

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the opportunity to postpone the inevitable for a little while longer. Pulling the covers over yourself to protect yourself from the cold of the night, you settled into the bed beside Brandon, your mind racing with thoughts of what you were going to talk about.

Brandon turned to look at you, his expression softening with affection as he regarded you. "How did you... how did you start to like astronomy?" he asked, his tone gentle as he broached the topic of conversation.

You smiled at the question, a fondness evident in your eyes as you recalled your childhood fascination with the stars. "For as long as I can remember, I've been fascinated by astronomy," you confessed, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "I found a telescope in my grandfather's things when I was a child, and ever since then, I've been hooked. There's just something about gazing up at the night sky that fills me with wonder and awe."

Brandon nodded, captivated by the passion in your voice as you spoke. He admired your thirst for knowledge, your willingness to pursue your interests despite the constraints placed upon you by society. In that moment, he felt a surge of affection for you, a newfound appreciation for the depth of your character.

"It sounds like you had quite the adventurous childhood," Brandon remarked, his tone laced with admiration. "Your parents must have been quite liberal in letting you learn whatever you wanted."

You nodded in agreement, a smile playing at the corners of your lips as you recalled the support and encouragement you had received from your parents throughout the years. "Yes, they were," you replied, a hint of pride evident in your voice. "They always encouraged me to follow my passions, no matter where they led me."

Brandon's heart swelled with affection as he listened to you speak, the warmth of your words washing over him like a soothing balm. He liked how you lit up, the sparkle in your eyes when you talked about astronomy. He found himself captivated by the passion and enthusiasm in your voice, admiring the way you spoke with such fervor about something that brought you joy. It was a side of you he hadn't seen before, a glimpse into the depths of your soul that left him feeling strangely drawn to you.

But as the conversation shifted, Brandon hesitated, his brow furrowing with concern as he broached a more sensitive topic. "When did your... episodes of madness start?" he asked tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched your eyes for answers.

The heat in your eyes disappeared as the tiredness returned, and you fell silent, your gaze drifting away from his as you struggled to find the words to explain. It was a painful subject, one that you had long tried to bury deep within yourself, but you knew that Brandon deserved to know the truth.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come as you recounted the events that had changed your life forever. "It all started when I was 15," you began softly, your voice tinged with sadness. "I was out riding with my father and brothers when my horse was startled by a snake. I fell off and... I hit my head on a rock."

You paused, the memories flooding back with painful clarity as you struggled to compose yourself. "I don't remember much after that," you continued, your voice trembling slightly. "But my brothers told me that I was in a coma for five days before I woke up."

Brandon listened intently, his heart aching with sympathy as he imagined the pain and confusion you must have felt during that traumatic time. "And then?" he prompted gently, his voice barely above a whisper as he waited for you to continue.

You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek as you recalled the horrors that followed. "Things were normal for a few days," you admitted reluctantly. "But then... the first episode of madness began."

Brandon's heart clenched with sorrow at your words, his mind racing with questions and concerns. "What... what kind of treatments did you undergo?" he asked softly, his voice filled with apprehension as he braced himself for your response.

But you shook your head, the pain evident in your eyes as you diverted the conversation. "I... I don't think you want to know," you replied quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not something I like to talk about."

Brandon's heart ached with frustration at your reluctance to share, but he knew that now was not the time to press you further. Instead, he reached out to you, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he leaned in to kiss you tenderly.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with reassurance. "But know that I'm here for you, [Your Name]. Whatever you need, whatever you're going through, I'm here."

You melted into his embrace, the warmth of his words washing over you like a soothing balm. In that moment, you felt a flicker of hope ignite within you, a glimmer of light in the darkness that surrounded you.

With a soft sigh of contentment, you pulled Brandon closer, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss as you whispered softly against his mouth. "Don't make me wait any longer, Colonel," you murmured, your voice filled with longing. "Let's just get this over with."

Brandon's heart skipped a beat at your words, his desire for you burning hotter than ever as he surrendered himself to the passion of your embrace. In that moment, there was only you and him, lost in the intensity of their shared desire as they sought solace in each other's arms.

Brandon pulled you closer, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he guided you onto his lap beneath the covers. You followed his lead, straddling him with your hands pressed against his chest, your lips meeting his in a hungry kiss that conveyed all the pent-up desire between you.

The kiss was intense, fueled by a longing that had been building between you for far too long. Your tongues danced together in a passionate tango, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through your bodies as you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

Finally breaking away from the kiss, you reached between your bodies, your hand wrapping around Brandon's hard length as you positioned yourself above him. With a breathy sigh, you guided him to your entrance, the anticipation of being filled by him sending shivers of excitement down your spine.

Brandon groaned softly as he felt you take him in hand, his desire for you reaching a fever pitch as he watched you sink down onto him. He was big and you weren't quite wet enough to receive him fully. But the sensation of being stretched by him was exhilarating, and you couldn't help but moan in pleasure as you sank down onto his cock.

As you sat down completely on him, a low, guttural moan escaped Brandon's lips, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he relished the feeling of being buried deep inside you. And when you moaned his name in a breathy whisper—Christopher—Brandon's heart skipped a beat, his desire for you reaching new heights at the sound of his name on your lips.

"God, [Your Name]," Brandon breathed, his voice thick with desire as he savored the sensation of you surrounding him. "You feel so good, so tight around me."

You whimpered in response, the pleasure of having him inside you overwhelming as you began to move your hips in a slow, steady rhythm. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, the pleasure building with each passing moment as you surrendered yourself to the intensity of your union.

Brandon matched your movements with his own, his hands guiding you as you rode him with increasing urgency. He could feel the tension building within you, the need for release growing more urgent by the second as you chased the elusive peak of pleasure together.

And as you continued bouncing on Brandon's dick, you experimented with new movements, gyrating your hips and watching the pleasure written all over his face. It was a sight that books and stories of your married sisters' experiences could never fully describe—the indescribable pleasure of seeing Brandon lost in ecstasy, his features contorted with pleasure as you rode him with abandon.

He was absolutely beautiful, his handsome face twisted in pleasure as he surrendered himself to the pleasure you were providing him. But despite his beauty and kindness, you pushed aside any thoughts of unworthiness, focusing only on the here and now with Brandon, on the pleasure you both felt.

Taking his hands that were on your waist, you guided them closer together, intertwining your fingers with his as you held his hands above his head. The feeling of his strong hands in yours only fueled your desire further, adding an element of intimacy to your passionate encounter.

And as you continued to ride him, lost in the sensation of being filled by him, you couldn't help but let out a torrent of praise and moans, your voice echoing through the room in a symphony of pleasure. And Brandon loved every moment of it, reveling in the sound of your moans and the sweet compliments you bestowed upon him.

"You feel so good, Christopher," you gasped, your voice filled with longing as you rocked your hips against his. "I never want this to end."

Brandon's heart swelled with pride at your words, his desire for you burning hotter than ever as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your union. "You're amazing, [Your Name]," he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he watched you move above him.

You smiled at his words, your heart overflowing with love for him as you continued to ride him with increasing urgency. You let go of Brandon's hands, your fingers curling into his chest as you rode him harder, your movements fueled by a desperate need for release. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, the tension building with each passing moment as you chased the elusive peak of ecstasy.

Brandon watched you with rapt attention, his eyes filled with desire as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of your union. He groaned softly as he felt you tighten around him, the sensation driving him closer to the edge with each passing moment.

At the sight of you throwing your head back in ecstasy, Brandon felt his own climax approaching rapidly. With a guttural moan of pleasure, he let go of all restraint, surrendering himself completely to the overwhelming sensation of release. As you reached climax, your body shuddering with the intensity of your pleasure, Brandon held you close, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he supported your weight. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he rode out the waves of his orgasm with you.

And as he came deep inside you, filling you with his seed, you felt a surge of contentment wash over you, knowing that you had given him everything he desired. You melted into his embrace, your bodies entwined in a tangle of limbs as you basked in the afterglow of your passionate encounter.

As you both calmed down, Brandon pulled you to lie down next to him, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he held you close. You snuggled into his embrace, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. But as Brandon fell asleep beside you, a wave of sadness washed over you, threatening to engulf you in its depths. You knew that your relationship with Brandon was built on a foundation of duty and obligation, not love. He had made it clear that you were here just to give him children, nothing more.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling empty and hollow inside. You didn't deserve him, you didn't deserve Brandon's love. He was kind and compassionate, everything you could ever want in a partner, but you knew that he would never love you the way you longed to be loved.

And as you stood up to get dressed, ignoring the sticky remnants of his cum running down your thighs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of despair wash over you. You cast one last look at Brandon's sleeping form, the ache in your heart growing more unbearable with each passing moment.

But as you turned away, tears streaming down your cheeks, you made a silent vow to yourself. You would bury your feelings deep within yourself, locking them away where no one could find them. You would continue to fulfill your duty as Brandon's wife, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness in the process.

With a heavy heart, you slipped into your clothes and made your way back to your cabin, back to your books, and your stars. It was the only solace you had left, the only thing that could distract you from the pain of knowing that you would never have the love you so desperately craved.

Brandon woke up the next morning with a satisfied sigh, his body still tingling with the lingering sensations of their passionate encounter from the night before. He reached out instinctively, his arm seeking the warmth of your body as he pulled you close, his heart swelling with affection at the thought of waking up beside you.

But to his dismay, Brandon's hand met only empty space, his fingers brushing against the cool fabric of the pillow beneath him. Confusion clouded his mind for a moment as he blinked away the remnants of sleep, his eyes scanning the room in search of you.

And then, with a sinking feeling in his chest, Brandon realized the truth—you were gone. Once again, you had left him alone in the marital bed, slipping away in the darkness of the night without so much as a goodbye.

Disappointment washed over Brandon like a tidal wave, his heart heavy with the weight of your absence. He had hoped that last night's passionate encounter would bring you closer together, that it would be a step towards building a deeper connection between you.

But as he lay there in the empty bed, Brandon couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that settled over him like a shroud. He longed for your presence, for the warmth of your body pressed against his, but he knew that you were gone, leaving him to face another day alone.

With a heavy sigh, Brandon turned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling with a sense of resignation. He was tired of this—tired of the constant cycle of intimacy followed by solitude, tired of feeling like he was always left wanting more.

Rubbing his face tiredly, Brandon knew that he couldn't continue like this. He had to talk to you, to address the underlying issues that were driving you apart. He couldn't keep ignoring the elephant in the room, pretending that everything was fine when it clearly wasn't.

And so, with a sense of determination, Brandon promised himself that he would broach the subject with you when you came over again that night. He couldn't let things continue like this, couldn't let the distance between you grow any further.

But for now, Brandon pushed aside his worries, forcing himself to focus on the tasks at hand. There were duties to attend to, responsibilities to fulfill, and he couldn't afford to let his personal struggles interfere with his professional life.

With a deep breath, Brandon pushed himself out of bed, steeling himself for the day ahead. He didn't know what the future held for him and you, but he knew that he couldn't keep living like this, trapped in a cycle of longing and disappointment.

Brandon longed for more than just stolen moments in the dead of night; he wanted to be with you, truly and completely, in every sense of the word. And so, he resolved to confront you, to lay bare his heart and soul in the hopes of finding solace in your arms once more.

And so, on that fateful night, as the hours stretched on without any sign of your arrival, Brandon found himself growing increasingly anxious. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, that you needed him now more than ever.

With a sense of urgency, Brandon made his way to the cabin, his heart pounding in his chest as he prepared himself for what he might find inside. And when he entered, he was met with the sight of you lost in another one of your episodes, drawing intricate constellations on the wooden floor as you mumbled to yourself.

"[Your Name], it's me, Christopher," he called out softly, his voice filled with concern as he approached you cautiously. "Can you hear me? It's going to be alright, I'm here."

You looked at him and smiled, beckoning him closer. Brandon realized that you weren't in one of your manic episodes, at least it didn't seem like it. He approached cautiously, a mix of relief and confusion flooding his senses. "What are you doing?" he asked gently, his concern evident in his voice.

You glanced up at him, your eyes sparkling with genuine enthusiasm. "I'm drawing my favorite constellations," you replied, a hint of excitement in your tone. "The sky is beautiful tonight, don't you think?"

Brandon felt a surge of frustration bubbling within him, his worry dissipating into annoyance. "That's it?" he exclaimed, unable to contain his frustration any longer. "You didn't come to me because you were drawing constellations?"

You looked at him, confusion clouding your features as you processed his words. "I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to dishonor our agreement, but I just... I lost track of time."

But your words only seemed to frustrate Brandon even more, his patience wearing thin as he struggled to comprehend your actions. "Is that all this is to you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Just a deal?"

You looked at him, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you struggled to find the right words. "How should I see it then?" you questioned, your voice barely above a whisper.

Brandon looked away, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. "Maybe... maybe I want something more," he admitted quietly, his voice filled with uncertainty. "I... I think I'm in love with you."

You interrupted him, shaking your head in disbelief as you backed away from him. "No," you whispered, your voice tinged with sadness. "You barely talk to me, Colonel. How could you possibly love me?"

But Brandon insisted, his gaze unwavering as he met your eyes with determination. "I see you, [Your Name]," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I see you helping the servants when you're not alone in the cabin. I see how you light up when you talk about astronomy, how passionate you are about the stars. And those nighttime conversations we have... they mean more to me than you'll ever know."

You remained skeptical, your gaze fixed on him with a mixture of disbelief and resignation. "You can't love me," you whispered, your voice barely audible as you turned away from him. "It would be better if you extinguished that love now, before it consumes you. Fall in love with another woman, but not with me."

Brandon's heart clenched at your words, the pain evident in your voice cutting him to the core. "No," he protested, reaching out to you desperately. "I don't want to be in love with anyone else. I want to be with you, [Your Name]. Please, let me show you how much you mean to me."

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you were about to say. "I heard rumors that Marianne Dashwood will no longer marry John Willoughby," you explained, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe you can ask for an annulment of our marriage, claiming that I am crazy, so you are free to go after Marianne."

Brandon's eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion, his mind racing with conflicting emotions. "How do you know about Marianne?" he questioned, his tone laced with disbelief. "And why would you suggest such a thing?"

You smiled sadly at him, the weight of your words heavy on your heart. "I heard Jenkins happily commenting on this with other employees," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "He seemed eager to see you away from me."

Brandon's expression darkened at the mention of Jenkins, his frustration mounting as he struggled to come to terms with the implications of your words. "Jenkins has no right to meddle in our affairs," he muttered, his voice tinged with anger. "And Marianne... Marianne is not the solution to our problems."

You looked at him, uncertainty flickering in your eyes as you processed his words. "But you love her, don't you?" you questioned softly, a hint of sadness in your tone.

Brandon's gaze softened as he met your eyes, his voice filled with sincerity. "I thought I did, once," he admitted quietly. "But that was before I met you."

You looked at him, disbelief written all over your face. "But how can that be?" you questioned, confusion evident in your voice. "I'm nothing like Marianne. I'm not beautiful, or charming, or witty."

Brandon reached out to you, gently cupping your face in his hands as he met your gaze with unwavering determination. "You may not be Marianne, but you are everything to me," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You are kind, compassionate, and brave. And who says you're not beautiful? You are simply stunning."

You push Brandon's hand away, your heart heavy with disbelief and self-doubt. "You don't know what you're talking about," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just a crazy woman, Colonel. You shouldn't waste your time on me."

But Brandon refuses to back down, his eyes filled with sincerity as he reaches out to you once more. "It doesn't matter if you're crazy or not," he insists, his voice unwavering. "You're my wife, don't you see? I want you, all of you."

You shake your head in disbelief, unable to comprehend his words. "But why?" you question, your voice trembling with uncertainty. "Why would you want someone like me?"

Brandon's expression softens as he looks at you, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. "Because you're you," he replies simply, his voice filled with conviction. "You're kind, and compassionate, and brave. And I... I think I'm falling in love with you."

You stare at him in shock, unable to believe what you're hearing. "But Marianne..." you begin, your voice trailing off as you struggle to find the right words.

Brandon interrupts you gently, his voice filled with understanding. "Marianne sent me letters, asking me to visit her," he admits quietly. "But I refused, because... because of you. I want to explore this love, this connection that I feel with you. Marianne is not the solution to our problems. You are. Give me an occupation, [Your Name], or I shall run mad.”

Tears fill your eyes as you look at him, the weight of his words sinking in. "I don't deserve you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you turn away from him.

But Brandon refuses to let you retreat into your self-doubt, reaching out to you and gently turning you back to face him. "It doesn't matter," he insists, his voice filled with determination. "It doesn't matter if you think you're not worthy of love. Because to me, you're everything."

You meet his gaze, your heart aching with longing and uncertainty. "But what if I have another episode?" you question hesitantly, your voice tinged with fear.

Brandon's expression softens, his hand reaching out to gently caress your cheek. "Then we'll face it together," he replies softly. "I'll be by your side, every step of the way. Because you're not alone, [Your Name]. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

You look away, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes. The weight of Brandon's words hangs heavy in the air, his vulnerability laid bare before you. You want to say something, to reassure him of your feelings, but the words catch in your throat, choked by the fear and uncertainty that have plagued you for so long.

Brandon waits patiently for you to speak, his gaze searching yours for any sign of understanding. But when you remain silent, a defeated look crosses his features, his shoulders slumping in resignation.

"Maybe... maybe it's you who doesn't love me," he murmurs softly, his voice filled with a hint of desperation.

You feel a pang of guilt at his words, a surge of emotion welling up inside you as you struggle to find the courage to speak. But then, before you can stop yourself, the words spill from your lips in a rush of emotion.

"No, Christopher, it's not that," you interject, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love you. How could I not, after all the kindness you've shown me? There aren't enough stars in the sky to quantify how deeply I've fallen for you."

You pause, taking a shaky breath as you gather your thoughts. Weeks ago, when you overheard Brandon referring to you as a necessary burden, it had shattered your heart. You had never wanted to be seen as a burden to him, but your madness seemed to make it unavoidable.

"But I know that I can't make you happy," you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. "But Marianne... she's young and beautiful. She'll have a much better chance of giving you children and making you happy. And the employees will like her. It will be better that way. I will no longer be a burden to you."

Tears fill your eyes as you speak, the weight of your words hanging heavy in the air. You know that this is your destiny, to fade into the background, with only the stars for company.

Brandon listens to you in silence, his expression unreadable as he processes your words. When you finish speaking, he reaches out to you, gently wiping away your tears with his thumb.

"You are not a burden, [Your Name]," he whispers softly, his voice filled with conviction. "And I don't want anyone else. I want you, just as you are. Marianne may have her charms, but she's not you. And I love you."

You look up at him, disbelief written all over your face. "But why?" you question, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

Brandon smiles tenderly at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Because you're you," he replies simply, his voice filled with sincerity. "And that's all I need."

#colonel brandon #alan rickman #marianne dashwood #sense and sensibility #colonel brandon x reader #alan rickman x reader #oc

[snowblossomreads]

Day 14: A Light in the Night

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Wife!Reader

Summary: We revisit the Colonel and his wife, along with their little dog Tulip as they ready to welcome a new life into the world.

Tag(s)/Warning(s): pregnancy, brief description of child birth, fluff, and wholesomess!

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: And we are back with these little lovelies from day 10! I have to admit I didn't think to make this a sequel yet my brain was like yes we can use this prompt! So here we are~ I hope you enjoy this little cute fluff 😍😍

Snow melted, flowers grew and wilted, and leaves of all colours scattered the ground before a blanket of snow returned to cover the lands around Delaford Estate with its beautiful brightness that made everything shine brightly.

Some things had stayed the same, like the staff at the estate, and her sweet Christopher, handsome and gentle as he always was. While other things had changed just like seasons did.

Namely [Y/n]'s belly, which was now large and round, filled with the babe that she, and her husband were expecting sometime soon, if the doctor's words were to be taken.

Honestly, while she did get excited at the sight of her belly, she had to admit she was ready to give birth as she felt a bit cumbersome with how large she felt. Dressing took longer in the morning, walking was a tedious task after a few months and don't even get her started about sleeping or the constant need to well...relive herself.

It wasn't all bad though as she had mentioned.

For one, her Christopher had become even softer and doting towards her which she hadn't thought possible considering his naturally sweet disposition. Yet he had.

'Come darling, here let me help you out of bed, I don't wish for you to strain yourself so much. It drives me mad, the thought of you and our babe being hurt.'

'Is there anything you wish for me, or the servants to bring you while I am in town, my love? You need only tell me and I shall retrieve it with haste."

He was so ridiculously sweet, sweeter than any person alive she bet, especially when they would lay in bed at night and he would gently stroke her stomach. Kissing her swollen belly, he would whisper to the child within about how much he was looking forward to meeting them, and how he hoped they were being kind to their mother while she kept them safe as they grew.

She could tell how excited he was as his eyes always lit up when he got to speak about how they were expecting, and his excitement increased as they got closer and closer to the winter season when the babe would be born.

So when the signs of labour began to show, and she felt a small pop below and a gush of wetness in her undergarments, she knew it would not be long before the babe they had waited so long for would be in the world.

"Martha!" [Y/n] cried out urgently as she struggled to her feet from her chair near the fireplace.

Tulip, her naughty but sweet dog that had grown in height, sprang up and began to bark loudly, only to be hushed by [Y/n] who waddled to the entrance of the parlour. She was met with Martha and Christopher who had come to see what the commotion was about.

Looking at both of them, her hand on her stomach, and a dark stain beginning to grow on her nightgown, which the other two seemed to spot simultaneously, she stuttered out a nervous,

"I-I think it's time."

As if her words set something off in him, Brandon’s posture immediately changed into one of a seasoned leader who was ready to command his household to help his wife during this important moment.

"Martha take [Y/n] to the bed now!” He barked, firm yet kind were his words, and Martha answered with an equally firm ‘yes sir!’ ready to take orders from the lord of the house. “I will send a rider to fetch the doctor! Wake everyone up once [Y/n] is in bed!"

"Darling that is unnecessary!” [Y/n] exclaimed, only to wince at the pain the excitement seemed to cause. “Do not wake the house I beg you we just need the doctor and Martha no one else."

"Absolutely not, everyone has been waiting for this day and I will not deprive them of it, and Martha may need some extra hands is that not right?" 

"Of course sir!" Martha answered with glee as her eyes twinkled with joy. “We’ve all been waiting for our lady to give birth! No one will mind being woken my dear! They would probably be quite angry if we didn’t wake them!”

"Good now please there is no time to waste!"

"Oooh, how delightful dear!" Martha gasped, going to [Y/n]'s side and gently guiding the woman while Tulip trotted behind them, tail wagging from the buzzing energy that was around her humans."Come there is no time to waste! You should have been in bed already, but oh you and your strong will my lady!

Both sets of people rushed off in different directions, and soon [Y/n] was in the birthing bed while a rider was running to mount their horse and fetch the local doctor.

Candle lights in each window of the estate lit up one by one, illuminating the dark home in the night as news spread that the lady of the house was soon to bring a child into the world. And it wasn't long before the sounds of birthing began.

Had she thought she knew what she was in for after talking to other mothers and to Martha, herself who was a trained midwife and a mother, she was sorely mistaken when the first pains of labour began.

Even Christopher, her poor dear sweet Christoper was going mad as she cried in pain each time she tried to push the babe out. He sat by her side, refusing to leave even when the doctor said that the process was far too messy for a gentleman of his status to watch.

"Sir I have been in trenches filled with mud and the bodies of good men who are no longer here. I have seen messy, and this doctor, this bringing of  new life, while messy, is wondrous and I shall not leave my wife's side until I know she and our child are safe." He was so stern when he said it, she had thought someone had taken her sweet and mild manner Christopher away with the aghast way the doctor stared at him.

But when he looked at her with such worry and concern, she knew he was still there only wanting her pain to end.

And in the wee hours of the morning, relief come for [Y/n] and all of those in the home who waited with bated breath. With one last push and a loud shout, a sharp wail filled the halls of Delaford estate.

"A healthy baby boy!"

Both the doctor and Martha announced after the babe had been cleaned, examined, and swaddled cosily to keep him warm.

"And my is his constitution healthy indeed! Larger than any one of the children I've delivered this year. Oh, he'll be just fine this winter Colonel, my lady!" The doctor stated as he handed the crying baby to [Y/n] who was eager to hold the little wiggling thing.

"Oh Christopher," [Y/n] whispered in wonder, as she stared in awe at the baby who had calmed immediately when he was placed on her chest. "He's so beautiful oh god-." Her voice wavered as emotion filled her throat and eyes.

"He is beautiful indeed," her husband murmured as he stared in wonder with her at the child who rested against her. "Just like his mother beautiful and marvelous."

She turned to him and was surprised yet not, as she saw his eyes glassy and filled with tears. Her strong and calm love. Steady and unwavering as the English oak trees that dotted the estate, was filled with emotions at the sight of his little family that had grown.

They stayed this way for a moment, silently marvelling at the child, as Martha and the doctor helped clean [Y/n] up. Once done, they bowed to the couple and left to give them a moment of privacy. The Brandons thanked them before they left, and only moments after the door had shut, did husband and wife hear the cheers of the house.

It brought a large smile to both of their faces knowing how much support and love the staff of Delaford already had for their babe.

"You make me such a happy man darling such a happy man," he stated as he kissed her temple and leaned down to kiss the babe's forehead.

The little thing stirred at his father's touch, yet made no noise of protest. This seemed to amuse them both as they let out a watery chuckle at his actions or lack thereof.

"And you my Christoper, you make me such an unbelievably happy woman. Oh goodness our babe, I pray that he is as strong, yet kind and gentle as his father," she whispered stroking the child's cheek. "You and him, you both are my everything darling."

"Woof!"

Their eyes widened, and they turned to look at Tulip, who had been calm and quiet the entire time during [Y/n]'s labour. Only now did she seem interested in reminding them she was still here.

"I do not believe Tulip agrees with her being left off the list as our son's sister," Brandon mused as the dog stared at them with a look of expectancy.

Letting out a delighted laugh at the dog's antics, [Y/n] smiled and giggled.

"And yes, you to my Tulip I could never forget you! You do have a little brother to take care of and protect now."

This seemed to appease the dog who let out a softer bark before she laid her head down and closed her eyes.

Laughter from both was music to each other's ears as they took in the new life they had been gifted with. A new life, in the wintertime to light up the darkness that the season was known for because of its early nights. It was most importantly a new life in the Brandons’ home, one that completed the little family they had both wanted.

A/N: Yaaaay oh goodness Brandon would be such a good father, he's so gentle and soft spoken. I think he doesn't have a mean bone in his body even if he were in the army. Stay warm friends it's getting chilly out here!

#colonel brandon x reader #rickmas2023 #rickmas #blossom writes

[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]

#rickmas2023 #rickmas #colonel brandon #colonel brandon x reader #alan rickman #rickmaniac #christmas fic #colonel brandon fic #sense and sensibility

[dragon-kazansky]

Everytime she entered a room he looked at her as if she had put the stars in the sky. She was beautiful and kind. Her smile made him feel so many things, especially when she was smiling at him.

His hand accidentally brushed against hers and he nearly flinched away, but her finger reached put and gently wrapped around his. She wanted him there. She wanted his hand there. That was more than enough for him to know he wasn't going to this woman go.

#colonel brandon #sense & sensibility #Colonel Brandon x reader

[rosebudfics]

Y/N's last night

Y/N is terribly ill and this is their last night, Brandon (or Severus) is deeply shaken but remains by their side that night

Colonel Brandon x ill female! reader

warnings: death, mention of death, coughing up blood, ANGST ANGST ANGST, the illness isnt contagious, the death isnt really realistic, kinda short sorry lol

A/N: OMG MY HEARTTT CANT TAKE THIS ITS SO SAD 😭 i decided to go with colonel brandon because i havnt written for him yet!! However if anyone wants me to, I can also write a severus version!

Colonel Brandon was waiting outside of your bedroom, his hair and clothes dishevelled as he heard the doctors talking. He was breathing heavily, shaking slightly. He couldn't lose you, not like this...

One of the doctors walked out of the bedroom, turning to Brandon with a sorrowful face. "Colonel, I'm sorry to be the bearer of such horrible news, but... miss y/n won't be with us for much longer. This sickness.. It's much worse than we ever anticipated,"

Brandon felt sick himself as he stared at the doctor. "Surely there's something you can do. T-There must be something--anything!" He had stepped closer to the doctor.

The doctor just looked at him sadly. "We've already done everything we can. Doing anything more will cause her more pain... she only has a few hours to live, maybe a day if we're lucky although it's not likely,"

Brandon took a deep breath, turning around as tears stung his eyes. He let out a sob, leaning onto the wall for support as his knees began to buckle.

"Colonel, you must sit down-" The doctor placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Does she know?" Brandon asked, not looking up at him.

"... yes, we already informed her."

The colonel squeezed his eyes shut as the pain in his chest increased. How could this be happening?

"Can I see her?" He asked, not realising how quiet his voice was.

"Of course.." The doctor took his hand off his shoulder. "Again colonel, I am... terribly sorry. I wish there was more we could do." And with that, the doctor left.

Brandon took a moment before straightening himself, and walking into your bedroom. He let out a soft sob when he saw you on the bed, how pale and skinny and clammy you were. When you heard him, you weakly lifted your head to him.

"C-christopher-" You tried saying his name before going in a fit of violent gasps for air. You grabbed the handkerchief beside you and coughed into it, pulling it back to look at the blood you hacked up.

Brandon rushes over to your side, getting on his knees beside the bed and starts to push any strands of hair out of your damp face. He tried keeping it together but he could not stop the silent tears that started to run down his face.

You looked over to him and frowned when you saw him crying. "Honey, please don't cry..." You reached your hand over shakily as you caressed his face, wiping away the tears that wouldn't stop. He took the hand on his face in his own as he stroked your knuckles.

"I don't want to lose you... p-please," he let out a sob, leaning into your palm. You smiled sadly as a tear of your own came rolling down your face.

"Christopher, I won't be leaving you okay? I'll be here, always here.." You run your hand down his cheek, down his neck to over his heart. His heart clenched, squeezing his eyes shut as more tears streamed down his face. "Come lay with me... I would rather pass in your arms than be cold," You let out a weak laugh, attempting to shuffle over so he had room, but he quickly stood up and helped you.

Brandon shuffled as close to you as he could, as he looked down at you and caressed your face. "Even in your last moments, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes upon."

You let out a soft but weak chuckle, coughing a bit. Once you were done coughing you looked back up at him. "And you are the most handsome man I have ever laid eyes upon.... Christopher?"

"Yes?" He asked, his voice slightly cracking and shaky.

"Can you... read to me?" You asked quietly, resting your head back on the pillow as you breathed heavily, already tired from moving.

"Of course, my love... " He shifted slightly, grabbing a book from the bedside table full of famous poems. Brandon settled back down beside you, before reading out,

"Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind For, from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast, and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith – embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this unconstancy is such As you too shall adore; For, I could not love thee, Dear, so much, Loved I not honour more."

You smiled softly, cuddling more close to him. You both stayed like that for a long while, him reading to you as you cuddled him. You were starting to feel more exhausted by the minute, but you were still comfortable. You knew your time was coming to an end.

"Christopher," You interrupted him, your voice raspy.

"Yes, love?"

"...I love you,"

His heart broke as he realised what was happening. Brandon took a deep, shaky breath before replying. "I love you more, darling.."

You leaned up, closing your eyes, then pressing a shaky kiss to his lips. He kissed back, a tear rolling down his face. With that, you fell limp in his arms as he held you. He was quiet for a moment as he looked down at your frail, lifeless body, before letting out a wail in despair.

You were gone.

You were really gone.

#colonel brandon x reader #colonel brandon angst #colonel brandon #sense and sensibility 1995 #sense and sensibility #Christopher brandon #colonel brandon x y/n #sense and sensibility angst

[starry-eyesanddaydreams]

December 24: Christmas Party

Colonel Brandon x Reader

Last entry for @deepperplexity 's Rickmas2023!!! The second part of "Snow Prints". Not my best but I wanted to get this finished before new years, lol. I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and that the New Year brings you wonderful things.

It was the night of the Christmas party Christopher was hosting. You watched Delaford house from the carriage window. The beautiful house was brightly lit and the warm glow from the windows cast across the surrounding snow, making it look like a chandelier in the night. You were wearing the finest dress you owned, wine red with gold embroidery. You had a very special reason to be excited for tonight and to want to look your best. A few days ago, Colonel Christopher Brandon had come to your house and asked permission to court you. Your aunt and uncle had happily granted their consent and you’d felt like you were walking on clouds ever since. Christopher met you as the carriage with you and your aunt and uncle arrived at door. By the look on his face when he helped you down from the carriage, the lengths you had gone to in your appearance were appreciated and you felt your cheeks heat in a blush under his gaze.

It was a wonderful party. The house was beautifully decorated with garlands and candles, music and chatter filled the air and everyone was in a jovial, festive mood, fuelled by fine food and Christmas punch. As the night went on, he spent as much time as he could by your side. As much as his duties as host would allow him. Young Margaret Dashwood had secured a dance with Christopher at one point and the sight of him dancing happily with the child endeared him to you even more. Since your first meeting where he had rescued you from your long walk through the snow, you had seen each other many times and written often. You knew you were easily and quickly falling in love with him. And while exchanged letters and time spent in the company of your family warmed your heart, you also longed to be close to him again. The feeling of being held close to him as you’d ridden double across the fields that day had stayed with you and you needed to feel that closeness again.

You had danced together several times tonight, happily becoming lost in the music. After a while, when you said you could use a rest from dancing and the crowded room, Christopher offered to show you some more of the house. You walked together and ended up in a picture gallery, lined with beautiful paintings. “Are you enjoying the party?” He asked. “Very much. It’s a wonderful evening. I’ve enjoyed dancing with you.” “I’m glad. You dance beautifully. But I’m afraid most of the popular dances are a bit fast for my meagre skill.” “I think you’re a very fine dancer. You have travelled a great deal, do you know of other dances.” “Well, these is one I like, called the waltz, but I fear it may cause a scandal when it reaches England.” You were intrigued now, “What would make this waltz so scandalous? Please, tell me.” Christopher took your right hand in his, the warmth of it soaking through your glove as his large hand wrapped around yours. “It’s danced between two people, and you must hold each other quite close.” “Show me.” You almost whispered. Christopher took a breath before answering, “You place your left hand on my shoulder”. You did as he said and almost gasped as his right hand settled on your waist and pulled you closer.

Your face was mere inches from his. Your softness under his hands was entrancing and Christopher wanted nothing more in that moment than to abandon all propriety, to wrap you up in his arms and kiss you. You felt yourself leaning closer towards him, drawn to him as if by an invisible spring. Softly, sweetly, your lips met his arms wrapped firmly around your waist as you clung to his shoulders. It was an intoxicating mix, the feeling of warmth and safety you felt in his embrace mixed with the dizzying thrill of his kiss.

A burst of chatter from the nearby doorway startled you both away from each other. Christopher’s expression was hard to read, “I’m…”he stumbled over his words, “I’m so sorry. Please…forgive my transgression.” “There’s nothing to forgive.” You said softly, “I was hoping you would kiss me. I’ve wanted to be held by you again since the day we met. Is that to forward of me?” Suddenly feeling vulnerable at your confession. Christopher took both your hands in his, “No. You are wonderous.” He wanted to kiss you again, but he couldn’t risk your reputation. Thinking clearly now, anyone could have walked passed and seen your passionate embrace. “We should so back before we’re missed.” He said. You nodded, still a bit breathless. And he linked his arm with yours and you headed back to the party, where you found some of the guests had started a game of Snapdragon. As you and Christoper watched the game, amused at the players antics, you thought to yourself how you didn’t need any game of Snapdragon to tell you that you would marry your true love soon. _____________________________________________________

Hope everyone who reads this enjoys it. (Snapdragon was an old party game where you'd light a bowl of brandy-soaked raisins on fire and try to grab them out of the bowl. The one who gets the most was said to marry their true love within a year) Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!!!!!

#alan rickman #rickmas2023 #rickmas 2023 #colonel christoper brandon #Colonel Brandon x reader #sense and sensibility

[tascha-schwarz]

Sometimes I open the folder with all my written shit and start randomly reading things I wrote like a year ago. Some are so well written, I can't even believe it was me who did it, and I fall for all those characters over again.

It seems to me, I won't be able to finish the tone of my wips or ever write something that good. For some reason, it got harder to find the right mood and energy, and it makes me sad.

#I'm going to publish a couple of things though #severus snape x reader #rufus scrimgeour x reader #ben wade x reader #rumplestiltskin x reader #hector barbossa x reader #colonel brandon x reader

[justafairytailofinnocence]

Colonel Brandon x young reader x Severus Snape⚔👧🦇

Dancing willows ✨

Synopsis: Colonel Brandon arrives at the Dashwood's when he stumbles upon a young woman who he falls in love with. At a party the young woman meets a mysterious man which peaks her fascination.

Au: this takes place around the regency era and Snape doesn’t go to Hogwarts but still has his past.

Warnings: none

A/n: Snape isn’t in this chapter but will be in the next one.

The sun shined through the woods past the house of the Dashwood’s, horses could be heard trotting and women were heard chattering. Through the midst of the thick trees and soil mud stood a man, his features were far older, his eyes laid coldly, and his expression was not one of warmth. He travelled along the dirt road to visit the Dashwood’s hopefully to give him some piece of mind after the tragic death of his old beloved Eliza. The man was referred to as Colonel Brandon, he had been in the war for some time. “Least it’s a nice day” he thought “If it were to rain, it would be certainly tragic”.

The colonel had finally arrived at the door of the Dashwood’s, he knocked only to be greeted by Mrs Dashwood. Mrs Dashwood had three daughters: Elinor Dashwood being the eldest, Marianne Dashwood being the second youngest and Margaret Dashwood the youngest sibling. The Colonel had been a friend of Sr John who welcomed the Dash woods when they first moved into this house.

The colonel could hear something emanating through the house, a tune coming from what sounded like a piano. He decided to follow the sound out of curiosity however something else caught his eye, out the window, a girl could be seen sitting in a tree with a book. He edged forward to the window to inspect the girl sitting up on the tree. The leaves blew lightly in the wind, her dress laid still on the branch of the tree and her hair followed with the movement of the wind. The Colonel had never seen anything like her, the girl was certainly younger than he and her features were quite stunning. The girl wore a white dress that reached her ankles and her eyes laid softly as she turned the page. She wore ribbons in her hair that never seemed neatly tied and her lips curved into a nicely oval shape.

The Colonel was stunned, he was entranced with this mysterious female that sat so perfectly in the branches. It was like seeing a ghost from his past, he placed his rugged hand onto the window. The girl on the tree closed her book, she placed her legs over the branch and hoped down. “Mr Brandon are you going to join us for tea” Mrs Dashwood implied “You must’ve had such a long Journey”. The colonel stammered as Mrs Dashwood broke his trance “Indeed, thank you for your kind hospitality”. He was quite fascinated by the girl in the tree to say the least, perhaps she was related to the Dashwood’s.

The Colonel followed through to join Mrs Dashwood and her daughters for some tea “It must’ve been such a long Journey, how was the travel” Elinor asked. “It was quite long; I did however see quite beautiful sceneries” the colonel reminisced of his travels.

Marianne was not interested in talking with the Colonel, she thought of him as being far too cold and old for her liking. Marianne had an interest in another man whom she admired; John Willoughby, he was far more charming and shared the same interests that Marianne had.

Elinor had talked with the Colonel for quite some time, the passing hour of the clock had struck noon. “My, the time had flown already it seems” Elinor spoke softly. The Colonel had smiled and thanked the Dashwood’s for the kind hospitality, his eyes loomed over towards the younger sibling. “Pardon me, I don’t believe we’ve met” the colonel smiled kindly at Marianne. The younger woman caught the colonels affection, he deemed her as beautiful and yet Marianne paid no mind to the man. “I believe I have other matters to attend to” Marianne stood up from the table and walked past the Colonel coldly.

Elinor was quite surprised her sister acted so coldly in this manner; she would normally greet guests warmly. “Don’t worry I believe it’s getting late for me, thank you for your kind hospitality, Mrs Dashwood” the colonel politely bowed. He exited the room, he wandered down the hall to come to a sudden holt. “The window” he thought “That young woman who was sitting upon the tree, I wonder who she is”. He pondered for a moment, perhaps if by chance he could walk by the tree, he could introduce himself to the young woman.

The colonel decided to wander by the tree to hopefully gain the chance to introduce himself to the young woman. He exited through the main front door and walked over to the big tree, it was quite old, the bark seemed to have rotted away from the rain. Beneath the big roots of the tree, he placed his hand along the branch to which his eyes had fallen upon a book. The colonel picked it up out of curiosity, the book was small and light. A single ribbon was placed within the pages as a book mark, he realized that this book was the exact one the girl was reading.

“What are you doing with my book” a females voice spoke out from behind the colonel. He turned around only to find a girl standing by the trees roots “Pardon, my apologies, I didn’t mean to steal your book”. The Colonel had the chance to take a closer look at the young woman “Stunning” he thought “absolutely stunning”. He was entranced with the girl’s appearance, her youth reminded him of a time he had spent with his old beloved.

The colonel has never revealed to anyone about his past, the torment that lingered of his Eliza never escaped his mind. He cherished every memory of her, the young woman he once fell in love with now dead, penniless, and loveless. Time had passed since then; healing wasn’t easy and of course it did take time but sometimes fragments of his memories would resurface every now and again.

“Who are you, did Elinor send for you to retrieve me” the mysterious girl questioned “no I’m afraid not, are you related to the Dashwood’s”. The colonel wondered why he had never heard of this girl; he knew of the three daughters but not of the fourth. “I’m their cousin, mother and father are away on a business trip, I’m only here for the time being” the girl explained, this would explain why the colonel had never seen her before.

“I’m not sure if Mrs Dashwood has formally introduced me, I am Colonel Brandon” he bowed politely toward the young woman. The young woman curtsied back and replied “I’m y/n l/n” unlike most young women, y/n was adventurous and admirable for her imagination. Colonel Brandon held out his arm “perhaps I shall show you around, come would you mind walking with me”.

Y/n smiled, of course she had never met anyone quite polite as the colonel, although he didn’t seem interesting compared to Marianne’s suitor Willoughby. “Your quite brave climbing a tree by yourself, not many women have the adventurous spirit” the colonel complimented. Y/n never saw herself to be one for danger, the idea of going into such a state would be quite harsh to say the least. “Perhaps we should formally know each other more” the colonel was about to speak further when “Y/n” Mrs Dashwood called out.

“Y/n, come inside” Mrs Dashwood was standing by the door, she was worried y/n had run off again. Y/n quickly scrambled “Apologies Colonel” the young woman was rushing toward the house. Mrs Dashwood smiled at y/n as she entered the house “Don’t worry Mrs Dashwood, y/n’s safe”. The colonel tried to reassure Mrs Dashwood from afar, before he followed along, he heard a footstep. He turned to see who it may be but to no avail was anyone in sight, the colonel turned to enter the house.

Y/n headed up toward her room to which she bumped into her cousin Marianne “Pardon me”. Y/n was curious to see if her cousin had met the colonel “Have you seen that man Marianne”. Marianne assumed y/n was talking about the colonel who just introduced himself while they were having tea. “Yes unfortunately, he isn’t as charming and he’s quite old for my liking” Marianne spoke softly “He’s quite odd isn’t he”. Y/n had to agree, yes, he was old but then she saw something charming about him.

She had no intention of trying to say he was a bad person but rather Marianne thought he wasn’t the most interesting man she had ever met. “Y/n are you coming to the party, many suitors may be there and who knows you may end up meeting someone of your favor” Marianne asked.

“Perhaps, I’m still quite young to think about that kind of stuff, I would rather read and see to more adventures” y/n laughed, she had never exactly dreamed of herself being tied down instead she dreamed of travelling around the world.

The colonel to y/n was quite old and yet honorable in his ways, perhaps y/n could get used to him.

Who knows perhaps a party might be a way to meet someone interesting, at least to y/n.

#Harry potter x reader #Severus Snape x reader #Colonel Brandon x reader #sense and sensibility 1995 #sense and sensibility #Harry potter crossover

[mrsseverussnape]

Can I please please please request reader x colonel Brandon as he's asking the readers parents for the readers hand? Like he'd expose his feelings for them and it'd be all cute and fluffy please?💓

I absolutely love your Writings- you so totally deserve this appreciation for your work. 😊

A/n: I finally wrote your request literally another 100 followers later…🥲 But you still love me, don’t you?😇😂 and thank you so much! 💕 I hope you will enjoy that fanfic☺️

Characters: Colonel Brandon x you

Theme: Fluff

A Summer Amour

There was a big rush in your manor for 2 days by now and you were kind of over it. Every year beginning of june your family holds a summer party in your big gardens to celebrate beginning of the summer, this was a family tradition for years. You actually loved that welcoming the summer party but hated the days prior to it since they were extremely chaotic since your mother wanted everything to be perfect, this included you as well. This year wasn’t any different; she made you and your father got dressed an hour before the party. Because last minute jobs were never perfect in her dictionary. You and your father weren’t fans of this behaviour of her but you two have learnt not to oppose her for your own good.

The party has started half an hour ago; you were welcoming the guests with your parents and having small talks with your friends here and there. But your eyes were fixed on the entrance of the gardens all the time. You were expecting to see someone special tonight and you were pretty sure that he would show up but there was no sign of him yet. And the fact that he was very punctual normally, made you worry that he’s not coming. But you decided not to think about it much, you were throwing a party and you wanted to enjoy every bit of it.

You were in a deep conversation with your cousins when you heard the most soothing voice that your ears ever welcomed. This voice was belonged to the man who you were expecting all day long. You excused yourself from the conversation and made your way towards him but not directly to him, you wanted him to notice you rather than you walked up to him. You decided to have chit chats with the guests around him so he could hear your voice, you hoped. Your plan didn’t take very long to work and soon he was in front of you saluting.

“Lady y/n y/l/n.” He bowed with a smile on his lips.

“Colonel Brandon.” You gave a nod.

“Please accept my sincere apologies. I was called to a sudden duty.” He gave you an apologetic smile.

“Your apologies are accepted, Colonel.” You smiled sweetly. How could someone say no to this kind gentleman.

You and Colonel Brandon were seeing each other for couple of months by now. This relationship has started very unexpectedly for both of you though. You and your family were invited to a picnic at Lady Blackbourne’s but it wasn’t a big event so just a few people were there and to your misfortune, none of your friends were invited. At the time you had no idea that your misfortune would turn into the greatest luck you have ever had in your life. Since everyone was older than you, their conversations didn’t interest you at all, so you took a glass of lemonade and made your way to the bench which was under the big, pink magnolia tree. You have guessed that the event might be boring based on your previous experiences, so this time you have brought the latest book you were reading. You were so lost in your book that you haven’t noticed the man who was watching you for a while until he cleared his throat to have your attention.

“Lady y/n y/l/n.”

“Colonel.” You smiled at him kindly.

“May i join you, if you don’t mind a company?”

“Of course. I will not reject a company since i am quite miserable here by myself.” You let out a soft chuckle.

He sat down on the other end of the bench while smiling. His eyes moved to the book you were holding. “What is the book you are reading, Lady y/n? You seemed very interested in it.”

“It is William Shakespeare’s plays. I just finished reading A Midsummer Night’s Dream.”

He smiled and quoted a line from the play. “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind-“

“And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.” You completed the line he has started. “Oh do you like Shakespeare too, Colonel?”

He hummed with a smile while taking a mini book out of his jacket and handed it to you gently. It was a copy of the same book you were reading.

“What a splendid coincidence!” You beamed excitedly. “I would never think a military man like you would be interested in such things. Forgive my misjudgement…”

“You are forgiven my lady.” I thought for a second and continued. “I heard that they play Romeo and Juliet at the theatre this week. Would you like to see it? With the Duke and the Duchess y/l/n of course.”

“Ah we shall do this! I am sure they will accept your invitation, sir.”

This was how your story has started with Colonel Brandon. The more time you spent together, the more you fell for him. He was nothing alike the other men you know; Colonel was such a gentle, kind and romantic man. He had everything a woman could ask for. And you knew that your feelings weren’t plantonic, his behaviours showed his feelings towards you very well.

The party has ended successfully and your parents were bidding farewell to the guests while you and Colonel Brandon were walking by the fountain. He has requested a private meeting with your father and he has asked him to stay after the party.

“Colonel, shall we go to my study room to talk?” Your father walked towards you while taking a sip from his wine.

“The Duchess and Lady y/n shall join us in my opinion, Your Grace.”

“Very well then, let us go to the living room. Ladies first.” He smiled at you and your mother while stepping aside so you could lead the way.

Now you all were seated at the big living room and waiting for Colonel Brandon to speak. But he seemed a bit stressed which was odd for him since he was a confident man. He fixed his uniform and took a deep breath before starting to talk.

“Your Grace, as you know i and Lady y/n see each other for a while with your permission. During thise time, i had the chance of getting to know your daughter better and i can safely say that she is the most beautiful lady both inside and out i have ever known.”

You blushed madly after his words and excitement ran through your body when you understood where this speech is going. You two have talked about it before but you had no idea thay he was planning to do it today.

“I want to assure you Your Grace, i will take good care of her till the day i die and i promise on my honour i will make her the happiest lady in the whole wide world. But of course i need your blessings before taking this important step. I want to ask for your daughter Lady y/n’s hand in marriage, Your Grace.” Colonel Brandon looked at both of your parents with a shy smile then his eyes met with yours for a second.

The Duke and the Duchess exchanged looks for a minute but it felt like ages for you and Colonel Brandon.

“Y/n, my beloved daughter. Do you wish to marry Colonel Brandon?” Your father asked in a serious tone.

You took a shaky breath and looked at Colonel Brandon for a second then turned to your father. “If you approve it papa, i wish to marry him.”

Your mother rubbed your arm assuringly while your father stayed silent for a moment. But then a smile appeared on his lips.

“Very well. We are going to have a wedding this summer then.”

Taglist:

@snapefiction @lizlil @elizabeth-baelish @misselsbells06 @mais-e @lunnybunny12 @stingingwolf @anfre109 @entirelymesmerising @wolvesofwinter13

If you wanna be on my taglist, let me know!

#colonel brandon x you #colonel brandon x reader #colonel brandon #sense and sensibility #fanfiction #fanfic #alan rickman x y/n #alan rickman x you #alan rickman x reader #mrsseverussnapefanfic #mrs.severussnape #fanfiction requests #jane austen #fluff #fluff fanfiction #rickmaniac

[authorsmortuary]

It Was Doomed From The Start

Chapter 1

Vivienne is invited to Barton Park by Mrs Jennings and meets the Dashwoods. She gets thrown into their affairs while trying to hide her own relationship with Colonel Christopher Brandon.

#colonel brandon #sense and sensibility #It Was Doomed From The Start - fanfiction #colonel brandon x reader #colonel brandon x oc #alan rickman #colonel christopher brandon

[from-delaford-with-love]

Chapter III

The first dinner in Barton Park was horrible. Sir John Middleton and Mrs. Jennings made seemingly everything in their power to present you to the guest in the most unfavorable way so that no one sane would consider you a person who could in any degree excite the interest of friendship, or give pleasure as a companion. With sincere and intense conviction you scarcely managed to impress Colonel Brandon, you could only hope he’s already forgotten that evening and with it – inglorious performance of yours.

Intrusive attention of people the circumstances forced you to live with made your days unbearable, therefore you preferred staying in your room at first before finding salvation in long walks in the neighborhood; fortunately, sparsely populated area offered a picturesque scenery, and its breathtaking immensity brought harmony back to your soul. Mrs. Jennings, however, displeased with your obstinate inclination for solitude, never missed an opportunity to express her highest dissatisfaction about your frequent absence. “Young people always choose freedom over a subtle conversation!” knowing nothing in fact about subtlety, she exclaimed dramatically seeing you off every morning with a trace of disappointment on her face.

A week has passed since your arrival. You were getting used to living without your mother and aunt and gratefully accepted all the difficulties you had to face believing this twist of fate would bring valuable experience which would strengthen your spirit and faith and eventually result in good. Having no one to pour out your soul you wrote letters home each day sharing your feelings with the parchment and actually sending just one – of a different kind – describing how much you liked it here and thoughtfully inquiring about your aunt’s health not to discompose your mother who’s been dealing with a lot of trouble afore.

Finished with another note destined to join a plenty of unsent papers safely stored in a drawer you looked out of the window. The weather tempted to get out of doors. In thought about today’s destination, you draw back the curtain to let the sun caress your face as suddenly you noticed a silhouette of a rider far in the distance. Before your eyes could recognize an unexpected visitor, frantic beating of your heart alarmed it was exactly that man who evoked the same strange feeling the day you first heard his footsteps in this house – Colonel Brandon. Unable to give a fair and sensible explanation to such a severe emotional discomfort, you leaned against the wall pondering how to curb confusing agitation within your soul.

Recalling on the previous joint dinner with the colonel and your family you had no desire to come to the man’s sight ever again. If it were not for Mrs. Jennings’ vigorous and determined attempts to cause you the loss of dignity, you would certainly abstain from avoiding the company of a decent respectable person Colonel Brandon undoubtedly was.

The only chance to eschew an unwanted encounter was sneaking through the back door and off in the open. But as ill luck would have it, the guest has already arrived – you ascertained his presence right when heading downstairs. Limbs going numb, you stopped in your tracks. Colonel Brandon smiled amiably and bowed to greet you. However, sharing a word with you seemed destined to never happen.

“What a nice surprise!” you heard Mrs. Jennings exclaim joyfully and a moment later she emerged in the hallway. “I’m afraid Sir John left for Exeter on business. But I assure you, he’ll be back by noon. Let me offer you a cup of tea!”

“Thank you, I was actually…”

“No, no, no! You’re not allowed to refuse!” she broke into exuberant laughter, which brought no spark on the colonel’s face. “Ah, come in! You’re not going to stand in the doorway, my dear, are you?”

Colonel Brandon has surely expected such an unfortunate outcome and was prepared to accept it with courage and generously sacrifice his morning – and with it, what’s more substantial, his mental resources – as a price he would have to pay for the sudden impulse that brought him here. If he were asked what an unfathomable force drove him, he would probably find it hard to answer, be that reluctance to tell the truth or admit it – one would never know since the colonel was of that kind of men who kept their sentiment to themselves.

A quick glance Colonel Brandon gave you before entrusting himself into Mrs. Jennings’ will didn’t go unnoticed.

“Oh, there you are!” she sang out, gesticulating with intense and eager enjoyment. “Come here, child! Welcome our guest!”

“Colonel,” memories from that terrible evening ruthlessly hurting your pride, you tilted your head as a sign of respect and he answered with a delicate smile which, to your relief, suggested no disapproval or contempt.

“The lady spends all days outside!” Mrs. Jennings complained.

It was getting annoying. Not only did she call you a child but certainly treated you as such.

“Would be a shame wasting them indoors, wouldn’t it?” the colonel smiled lively, addressing you. He considerately meant to encourage you, but it made you feel pathetic instead – Mrs. Jennings entirely ruined your image.

Realizing he’s just dampened your spirits, Colonel Brandon instantly regretted indulging himself to frivolity he would ordinarily consider inappropriate and discourteous towards a person he barely knew and subsequently showed a composed serious manner.

“Wouldn’t it be nice, my dear, if you kept her a company from time to time?” Mrs. Jennings asked after a short yet careful observation, delighted with the idea.

You couldn’t believe she was imposing you on the man’s responsibility. Being a gentleman he’d have no choice but to agree. And he did.

“It will be an honor,” he said reticently, in accordance with the rules of convention.

Tag: @diaryofafan17 @venusetdiatribes @taschaschwarz @booklover2929 @crystalchrysalis19 @yourbadnightmare

#colonel brandon #colonel brandon x reader

[obviously-best-potions-master]

Sitting on a branch of a birch tree by the lake and reading Jane Austen is a BIG MOOD.

I think I'll get back to writing next week.

#jane austen #colonel brandon #snape x reader #colonel brandon x reader #@another-snape-story #@from-delaford-with-love

[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

#colonel brandon x reader #brandon x reader #rickmas #rickmas2023 #blossom writes

[deepperplexity]

Prompt 5. Grave Of Snow [A2]

Pairing: Colonel Brandon x Fem!Reader

POV: Second, Reader & Third, Brandon

Setting: The Lands Around Delaford Estate & Delaford Estate

Continuation of: Prompt 1. Chimney Soot

A/N: This was harder to write than I'd thought it would be. My own greatest death fear is drowning, no other manner of dying scares me more than that but this fic as being buried alive and it's quite a horrendous thing too - and it's Christmas time, what a super jolly way to spend it 😂 Gosh, I hope you weren't expecting Rickmas2023 to be all sweet and fluffy 🙈👍❤

On another note, we're making an ice rink in our backyard (nearly done) and I just realised this year I have no prompt for ice skating 😱 Like, sure, you can connect almost any prompt with Ice Skating but there's no dedicated prompt for it this year - feels a little weird 😂

Tags/TW’s: Buried Alive, Fear Of Being Harmed, Mentions Past Physical Hurt (hand lashing and punishment), Fear Of Losing Someone, Mentions Past/Current Fears (being buried alive) ...and good doggies doing a good job too

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 3.2k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

⩤• You •⩥

You wiped at your face, the soot still clung to your skin, leaving you looking like a bandit raccoon as the handkerchief had protected your lower face. The dusty dress lay abandoned on the floor as you pulled on the rags you’d come to Delaford in. This can’t be happening, cannot, cannot be happening! The colonel! I-, I-, oh, I’m my own ruin!

You banged open the door, and slammed it shut by cheer force while running before you even released the handle. The winding, narrow steps were a death trap in your rush to get away. You were not going to stay for a lashing, for a rough yelling, for any punishment the upstanding man deemed fit for your actions — for your lack of knowledge about the very man himself rendering you unable to treat him correctly even. You didn’t even take the time to say goodbye to Mrs Garber, or inform Cook about you leaving. You just ran out into the snowy winter land outside as the winds whipped around, tossing about that very snow. While the clouds hid the warming rays of the sun, the sky was as grey as your trembling hands.

The night had gifted the world with another few inches of snow the stable boys were helping the other servants to shovel, but the servants’ side wasn’t cleared yet so your legs plummeted into the white cold to your mid-thighs. You shivered and hissed as your dress hiked up, the long underpants you wore upon your arrival were still up in your quarters. Your rush hadn’t allowed for more than your dress, shoes, and cloak to be put on.

You clumsily forced your way through the snow, not knowing where any paths were you only focused on reaching the tree line up ahead. It was far off, but you were determined to get away before anyone could get their hands on you. His gentle eyes still lingered in your head, the sweet warmth his voice spread through you, the slight scrutiny he’d viewed you with — as if he’d been trying to see beyond the soot and covering handkerchief. You’d never felt any tingle like the one he’d made your skin warm under. What was that even? A sudden lapse of judgement? A lust, like other men throw my way when they want to take advantage?No, that thought didn’t sit right with you. His gentleness was too clear, yet you knew nothing about him and you had met people like that before. Kind, caring, sweet — on the outside. Behind closed doors, that was a different matter entirely.

You feel forward, plummeting into the snow as your foot tripped on something. You were crawling forward a second later, determined to reach the trees, to hide among them and get away from the estate you had hoped would have been your salvation through the freezing winter. Now, well, you were even worse off than before. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I shouldn’t have tried so hard! I should have just told Mrs Thatch about the clog!

You reached the trees just as the sound of hounds filled the air. A foreboding dread filled you from within as you picked up the pace and nearly ploughed your way through the snow, your foggy breath heaving out of you while the hounds' yelps and howls seemed to turn louder. You grasped the first low-hanging branch of a pine and pulled yourself forward as the imposing trees sheltered you from the biting winds, the sounds of the hounds half drowned out as you dragged and pulled yourself forward until the snow lessened, burdening the branches above rather than the ground below.

A sigh of relief escaped you as you grabbed another branch and pulled yourself forward one final time before the snow only reached your knees. The relief was felt too soon while you sought to get deeper among the trees. You stumbled forward, snagging your foot on a hidden root below, only to grab a hold of another branch. It slipped through your numbing fingers, the pine needles like cutting blades — hardened by the cold — as they sliced at your palms while you ended up in the snow with a panted breath at the impact nearly burying your face in the white cold. Then you were pummelled.

The branch had been released with such force the tree swayed, its branches being freed of the heavy snow above before the sudden springing rippled through the nearest tree. Snow came crashing down in waves and you could do nothing but shield your face as the weight forced you to lay still — burying you completely without your cry of fear penetrating the deadly mass. Lord, no, you thought as you lay immobile with only a small bubble of air around your face thanks to your raised arms.

Why his chuckle echoed in your head, why the sturdiness of his body against yours filtered through the fear, why the gentle curiosity in his eyes shimmered before your mind's eyes you couldn’t tell. The echo of silver bells, the crackling of a fire, the swirl of dancing couples in wonderful dresses and beautiful frocks seemed like a hazy fog of a dream you’d wished for all your life and were now never to experience. Not even as an attentive maid blending into the scenery without anyone taking notice. In that foggy dream, keeping the horror of your grave of snow at a distance, he stood at the very centre and his eyes — gentle and sweet — were only on you. The tingling warmth in your numb fingers and toes felt as real as the crawling chill along your back while you struggled more and more to breathe and stay conscious.

⩤• Brandon •⩥

“Samson, search!” he bellowed, his voice travelling further than needed. Your dusty handkerchief held tightly in his harsh fist, the hound’s nose just having been buried in it before the other dogs took a whiff. The hound howled, setting the other dogs off with yelps and barks as they dove into the snow, the path your body had cut through it already starting to fill with the swirling snow the harsh winds threw about.

He had never been spellbound before. The way he had seen only your eyes surrounded by black ash ought to have discouraged any sensations within his chest but, alas, the wonder your eyes were and the manner you spoke with had taken him by such surprise his heart had no chance but to pound. He’d never thought sticking his head in a chimney while talking about Santa Claus would have lurched his entire body into a warm pounding. You had spoken so sweetly, your eyes those of someone who knew hardship yet prevailed. He was enthralled with the glimmer in them the second your eyes had connected in the dark of the chimney.

The hound howled again as he stepped out of the protective walls of stone, through the servants’ door, and felt himself sink to right above his knee in the snow. Remembering the disarray of your quarters, the discarded dress, the abandoned second undergarments that should have clad your body to protect against the snow — no matter the horridly tattered state of the thin fabrics — made his stomach twist.

He was not unfamiliar with the cold, the wetness, the dampness of melted snow, and how it would cling to one’s body. He had spent far too many seasons in service of the royals not to have experienced all sorts of weather and their respective challenges. And now you were out there, exposed and frightened given the horrendous look you had offered him before running away in a poof of swirling ash dust. There had been something wrong with that look, the dread of it — and the manner you had wrung your hands before you. what harm has befallen you before? Have hands been laid atop you for such a small thing as spreading ash?

He gave chase, following the loud dogs with servants following behind him with his heart in a harsh pounding. The snow wasted no time clinging to him, seeping through his clothes not suitable for the weather in the slightest. The only thing he’d done was drape a heavy cloak around himself while Mr Barkley had fetched the hunting dogs, his beloved hound at the helm of the pack. He was grateful for having taken that extra second to at least do that as the wind was bitingly cold, nearly clawing at his cheeks while the sky above seemed to darken by the second until the snow being thrown about was so thick the clouds above were no longer visible.

“Samson! Search!” he called, the hound howling back while your trembling shoulders filled his head. Something had been done to you, someone had hurt you for something akin to what had just happened and he could not fathom anyone harming anyone over cleaning, or stumbling, or not knowing the face of a man they had never before met.

Samson howled and came bolting back toward him, Christopher felt his heart stop as the dog kept sniffing the ground at his feet, searching for a fresher scent. The trail you’d left behind was gone, he could barely see an inch before him as the snow stuck to his lashes. He pulled out the handkerchief again, beckoning Samson to take a new whiff — the hound ignored him while sniffing the ground harder, burrowing his nose below the top layer before digging his way through the snow toward the trees Christopher knew lay not far away even if he could not see them.

“Sir Brandon!” Mr Barr called behind him. “Sir! The winds are too strong!” the man called over the howling of that very phenomenon of nature. “We shall find her! Or she will perish out here!” he called back, not stopping his trudge forward despite the snow gripping him nearly to his mid-thighs by that time. I shall not lose her to this storm , he thought while leaning forward to push through the snow faster, following the small dent after Samson and the rest of the dogs. “Sir! It’s too dangerous!” Mr Barr called, but he ignored it. He had faced danger, and the storm wrapping him up was nothing compared to the horrors of his past, or the pain contained within it.

They reached the trees and the thickness of the branches kept the worst of the winds at bay, the snow on the ground lessening for each step until it barely came to his knees and he could move faster. Samson’s howl up ahead caught his attention, he’d found something. Christopher barged forward, running despite the snow and whipping branches, until he found his dogs digging at what appeared to be a mound of snow created by yielding branches.

His heart leapt toward his throat, making it difficult to breathe. Are you in there? His mind had time to wonder before he lurched into action. If you lay buried under such heavy snow, had you any air to breathe? Had you broken anything? Were you crushed? To be buried alive had been one of his greatest fears back in the East Indies, and even before that. When he was a lesser man, fighting in trenches filled with muddy water that could have easily turned into a watery grave in the madness of battle.

He dug, and dug, and dug until his skin felt as if it would slide off his icy fingers and his nails crack with the cold. That was when your fingers appeared, icy cold and unmoving. His lungs stuttered on a sharp intake of air while Samson licked the fingers quickly. He dug with all his might just as the servants appeared behind him. “Dig, men! Dig! ” he demanded with such a dark rumble he barely recognized his frantic voice himself.

A frantic moment later you were dug out from the snowy grave he would not allow to become an eternal resting place. He dragged you too forcefully into his arms, wiping away snow from your cold face, smearing the ash further — hiding your face from him behind a blotchy mess of black and grey — but he could not have cared less as he saw foggy air part from between your lips. His shoulders sank with relief before he held you up and took off his cloak by interchanging his arms. You were tightly wrapped but unresponsive as he stood with Samson by his leg, his entire body wiggling with the motion of his tail as it wagged relentlessly from having found his target.

⩤• You •⩥

You shivered, a wet rag graced your forehead in a rubbing motion while the deep sigh of a woman echoed all around you. “Stupid child, why would you run in such a manner,” Mrs Garber nearly whispered, the familiarity of her voice softening the pounding of your heart. “And from the colonel no less, foolish girl.” You couldn’t tell if your mother’s long-lost friend was angry or worried, her voice didn’t let it slip through fully.

When your eyes blinked open she was leaning over you, and you were almost too warm. “Oh, Y/n,” she said while you blinked a few more times to clear your vision. “Foolish girl, you had me so worried!” she chided, but, perhaps affectionately so. “Mary?” you asked and she sighed but nodded. “Where-, where am I?” you asked as your eyes flicked about the glorious room as you tried to move your stiff limbs. A giant canopy of thick fabric was above you, the mattress beneath was the most comfortable one you’d ever laid upon, and the covers atop you felt lush — like silk, expensive silk.

“Oh, sweet child, you’re in—” “Mrs Thatch,” came that gravelly voice which sent goosebumps along every inch of your skin while your heart picked up the pace a notch as you turned your eyes toward the slightly ajar door. “Give me an occupation, or I shall run mad,” he continued so quietly it shouldn’t have been possible for you to hear the words. But his voice travelled far, even in such a low tone appearing to be far away given the echo to it. “Colonel, sir,” that shrill voice from the grand room before said. “There is little to do but wait. She is in good care with Mrs Garber, sir.”

Your eyebrows scrunched, he sounded anxious — it didn’t suit that voice at all to have such a tone. You found yourself wishing to hear that chuckle of his again. Perhaps you had a fever and were delirious? “You have had the master so worried, Y/n. How could you do such a thing to the good man?” Mrs Garber chided quietly but you couldn’t quite grasp the words. “Now, you lay here and I shall fetch the man before he drives himself to insanity. You apologise, you hear me? He is a gentle soul, I will not have you tormenting the respectable man with your nonsense behaviour. Your mother wasn't able to run away but that does not give you the right to bolt in such a manner.” Her eyes were harsh, nearly glaringly so, as she rose and tucked the cover all the way up to your chin before smoothing out your hair in what you believed to be an attempt at making you appear more decent.

Your heart pounded harder with each step she moved toward the door. When she pushed it open you sat up, the cover pooling around your waist while the nightshirt placed on you kept you covered from your collarbones and down. “She’s awake, sir,” Mrs Garber said and, not a second later, he was in the doorway. “Miss Y/l/n,” he said without taking so much as half a step into the room itself. His voice was that of relief, his gentle eyes warm in the glow of the hearth at the opposite end of the room from where you lay in a giant bed.

You felt your cheeks heat, your fingers gripping the cover atop your legs harshly while your eyes folded from his intent viewing of you. Your heart ran amok as he stood in figure-disclosing attire with his black frock coat nearly clinging to his waist while the shiny boots adorning his feet glimmered in just as black a colour.

“Miss Y/n/l? Are you fairing?” he asked while taking a step closer, making your head jerk up. “I-, I am,” you stuttered. “Sir, I’m-, I apologies, for my behaviour,” you continued while you endeavoured to remember what had happened after you lost your grip on the branch with slicing blades for pine needles. “Not a word about it,” he said as he began moving in, toward the foot of the bed. The light of the fire encased him in a glowing halo, making his hair shimmer and the glimmer in his eyes appeared brighter as his eyes held yours.

Why is my heart running rampant? I’m-, I’m all tingly all over when he views me. Your thoughts were uncertain but your body seemed to react in a wholly new way to the grand man before you. “Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice dipping lower. You could only manage to shake your head. “You were buried in the snow,” he said after a moment. His fingers curled around the footrest of the bed, his knuckles whitening at the force used. Your breath hitched at the sight, so alike hands around a riding crop used for lashings.

Your fingers began fidgeting, your hands wringing and rubbing atop the cover. The memory of the pain was far too fresh. “Miss?” he said, snatching your attention. “Are your hands hurting?” You stiffened for a second before you let go and grabbed the cover anew while shaking your head. “Did someone lay harm upon you?” You didn’t move, didn’t say a thing, only kept your eyes on his whitening knuckles. It was a common thing, after all. Masters laid hands upon their servants as they deemed fit, and you had time and time again ended up at the mercy of such wicked, cruel men and women were either fate or a coincidence.

Your breath hitched as he suddenly pushed off the bed frame, stepping around to stand at your side in less than three long strides. You shrunk into the mattress, his imposing figure hard to take so closely — yet, it wasn’t just fear of retribution that made you do so. No, no there was something else entirely imposing about him that you fought against so as not to be drawn in. If it were his handsomeness, the memory of his sweet chuckle, or those gentle eyes that now seemed to flare with something darker you couldn’t quite say. But he warmed you in places he ought not to have been able to reach at all.

“No matter,” he said quietly, a mere drawl of a whisper. “You are safe here, miss. No harm will befall you within my estate.” “S-sir?” you squeaked out, confused at his sweet words spoken in such a harsh tone. “Are you not to punish me?” you continued with a tremble to your voice that had far more to do with the warmth he spread within you than the question you’d just asked. His eyes flared before his entire face softened. “No, my sweet. No punishment shall ever befall you for breathing life into my heart with those eyes of yours.”

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Ugh, theses two... Gosh, I do love it when emotions are instant and soulmate-like 😩👏 And another cliffhanger it is - are we excited to see where this goes? 👀😘

I'm working as hard as I can to make sure I'm as early as possible posting and I'm going to start working on tomorrow's prompt right away, I have a little extra time today (aka I'm taking the time today 'cus I need it 😂) so perhaps I'll start working on Thursday's prompt too - tomorrow we're getting back to Turpin again anyway! 🥰👏

Q: If you had to choose between only listening to Christmas music and no other music or only watching Christmas movies and no other movies through all of December - what would you choose? 👀 A: I'd say I'd choose Christmas music - but, I love it and almost exclusively listen to Christmas music through November and December anyway 😂 Only watching Christmas movies would be harder 🙈

TAGLIST: @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight14 @caseydoodles98 @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87 @sunset90 @daddythanatos

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

[Dec:2023]

#colonel brandon x reader #rickmas2023 #colonel brandon #sense and sensibility fic #christmas fic #alan rickman #rickmaniac #rickmas

[magravenwrites]

Requests are CLOSED!

Rules:

Please send in your request as an ask!

If you don't specify a pronoun, I will write fem!reader.

I will write character pairings as well as 'x reader'. Just let me know which pairing you want written/made.

Prompts can include song prompts, or be general prompts, but I ask for you to be as specific as you can, so I can try and write something you will like!

I will write for platonic relationships as well as love interests!

I will be accepting requests for moodboards, imagines and fics/oneshots.

I will write pretty much anything - fluff, angst, au's, crossovers and smut... 😉

I will also write for potentially triggering topics, relevant warnings will be included. I don't aim to romanticise these topics in any way, they are serious topics and will be treated as such.

You can find a list of fandoms and characters I write for below the cut.

If you would like to request something for another fandom or character that isn't listed, just send me an ask and I will do my best to complete it for you!

Bridgerton:

Anthony Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

Simon Basset

Daphne Bridgerton

Eloise Bridgerton

Penelope Featherington

Marina Thompson

Downton Abbey:

Matthew Crawley

Tom Branson

William Mason

Bertie Pelham

Henry Talbot

Thomas Barrow

John Bates

Atticus Aldridge

Mary Crawley

Edith Crawley

Sybil Crawley

Rose MacClare

Anna Bates

Lucy Smith

Grishaverse:

(I have not read the books yet, so works will be mainly based off the show)

Kaz Brekker

Jesper Fahey

The Darkling/General Aleksander Kirigan

Matthias Helvar

Malyen 'Mal' Oretsev

Inej Ghaffa

Alina Starkov

Nina Zenik

Harry Potter:

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Bill Weasley

Charlie Weasley

Percy Weasley

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Cedric Diggory

Neville Longbottom

Draco Malfoy

Oliver Wood

Seamus Finnigan

Dean Thomas

Hermione Granger

Ginny Weasley

Luna Lovegood

Young Sirius Black

Young Remus Lupin

Young James Potter

Young Lily Evans/Potter

Young Tom Riddle

The Hunger Games:

Peeta Mellark

Gale Hawthorne

Finnick Odair

Katniss Everdeen

Johanna Mason

Annie Cresta

Marvel:

(I am not up-to-date on all Marvel films/series, so please bare with me)

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Sam Wilson/Falcon

Loki Laufeyson

Thor Odinson

Peter Parker/Spider-man

Bruce Banner/Hulk

Clint Barton/Hawkeye

T'Challa/Black Panther

Scott Lang/Ant-man

Peter Quill/Star-Lord

Drax

Dr Stephen Strange

Vision

Nick Fury

MJ

Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow

Wanda Maximoff/Scarlet Witch

Gamora

Maze Runner:

Thomas

Newt

Alby

Minho

Gally

Chuck

Frypan

Winston

Teresa

Narnia:

Peter Pevensie

Edmund Pevensie

Prince Caspian X

Mr Tumnus

Susan Pevensie

Lucy Pevensie

Poison Study/Glass series:

Valek

Ari

Janco

Leif

Yelena

Opal

Iris

Pride and Prejudice:

Mr Darcy

Mr Bingley

Elizabeth Bennet

Jane Bennet

Sense and Sensibility:

Colonel Brandon

Edward Ferrars

Elinor Dashwood

Marianne Dashwood

The Last Kingdom:

Uhtred

Finan

Sihrtic

Osferth

Aethelstan

Alfred

Aldhelm

Gisela

Stiorra

Thyra

Eadith

Aethelflead

Ealhswith

Throne of Glass:

(I have not read the last book yet so please bare with me)

Dorian Havilliard

Chaol Westfall

Rowan

Lorcan

Celaena Sardothien-

-Aelin Galathynius

Manon Blackbeak

Asteria Blackbeak

Elide Lochan

Lord of the Rings:

Aragorn

Legolas

Gimli

Frodo

Sam

Merry

Pippin

Boromir

Éomer

Elrond

Arwen

Galadriel

Éowyn

The Hobbit:

Thorin

Balin

Dwalin

Fili

Kili

Bofur

Thranduil

Bard

Tauriel

Poldark:

Ross Poldark

Francis Poldark

Drake Carne

Sam Carne

Jeffry Charles Poldark

Dwight Enys

George Warleggan

Demelsa

Caroline

Rosina

Elizabeth

Morwenna

Peaky Blinders:

Tommy Shelby

John Shelby

Arthur Shelby

Michael Gray

Ada Shelby

Polly Gray

[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: smut, fluff, angst, suggestive, female and sometimes gender neutral reader unless its spicy, and domestic stuff!!

I will NOT write: 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

Relieving Aggravations - (SMUT) Snape x Reader

An Amazing Birthday - (SMUT) Snape x Reader

You're Beautiful, Don't Forget That - (SMUT) Snape x Wife! Reader

Good Boy - (SMUT) Sub! Snape x SoftDom! 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!

#rose speaks #snape #severus x you #severus snape #severus x reader #severus art #severus x y/n #pro snape #professor snape #snape community #pro severus #severus snape x you #severus snape x y/n #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #pinned post #colonel brandon #sense and sensibility 1995 #sheriff nottingham #robin hood prince of thieves #judas kiss #david friedman #judas kiss david friedman #hans gruber #die hard