#richard jackdaw fanfiction

[cuffmeinblack]

A Man Of Ill Repute

Richard Jackdaw x f!reader

Summary: Richard has a reputation as quite the flirt; a scoundrel, even. But you can't deny your attraction to him, or the ways in which he surprises you.

Tags: explicit | alive!Richard | sex | cunnilingus | semi-public sex | music as foreplay | 1790s Hogwarts

4k words

A/n: What in the Bridgerton is this? Not intentional, but I love the thought of Richard being a complete flirt but actually never earning his scandalous reputation.

Period accurate underwear (?), definitely not period accurate sex.

Breakfast time was a somewhat boisterous affair; the gaggle of girls who crowded you now made for rather spirited company. The hour before lessons began was often filled by exchanging gossip, and today was no exception, though the appearance of the subject of much gossip himself had just entered the hall, only adding to the whispers. 

Richard Jackdaw—charmer, layabout, devishly handsome despite his arrogance—was not just passing, but approaching your table. He walked with his hands behind his back, chest proud, strutting like a peacock, like he owned the place. No small wonder, when girls of all houses would swoon over his perfectly coiffed brunet locks and those lips to die for. Those lips had been on a fair few of your fellow students, no doubt, if the stories were to be believed.

Despite all this, you watched him in all his swaggering grace, wishing that you could drag your eyes away. Underneath that bluster you thought there might be something deeper worth exploring—or at least that’s what you had been thinking before he opened his mouth.

“Good morning, ladies. You look utterly divine this morning.” He let his dark eyes drift across the swathe of girls, eventually landing on you. As much as you wished you were immune to his charms, your gut twisted and warmth spread through your body to the very tips of your ears.

A few of your classmates giggled and batted their eyelashes whilst the other half rolled their eyes with distaste and returned to their breakfast. Richard blew an air kiss in your general direction and was off, probably to terrorise some other unsuspecting group of girls. Your cheeks were burning, and you suspected it had nothing to do with your cup of tea.

“What a rake, that Jackdaw!” your friend erupted as soon as he was out of ear shot.

“He is ever so handsome, though.”

“And ever so dim witted,” another added.

“He has a good mind for solving puzzles,” you interjected, idly spooning porridge into your bowl. The words had quite appeared from nowhere and earned you a few curious glances. Since when did you defend Richard Jackdaw?

“Yes, well, you still beat him at chess, did you not?” A fair eyebrow raised in your direction.

That you did, though it was a tough match and the Gryffindor provided ample distraction with his flirtatious gazes. Richard tended to float through life with not a care in the world, save for the riddles that perplexed most others. If it weren’t for his utter disinterest in typical scholarly pursuits, one might think him more suited to Ravenclaw house. He had an inquisitive mind when presented with the right interest.

“I don’t think he was very happy about it,” you said with a satisfied smile whilst stirring honey into your bowl, the amber liquid reminiscent of a certain rake’s eyes when they caught the light just so…

You shook that thought away. 

Your presumption turned out to be accurate, however, when only a day later Richard approached you after your shared Charms lesson. Slightly ruffled from practicing weather charms (the gale he’d conjured had almost swept your professor clean off his feet), he caught up to you as you left the classroom bearing his signature charming smile.

“Jackdaw. What do you want?” you asked suspiciously.

“I'm offended you think I must want something in order to talk to you, darling.”

You halted just outside the doorway and rounded on him. “Am I wrong?”

“Well as it is…I wondered if you fancied a rematch? I've been turning our chess game over in my head, and I think I know how you bested me.”

“I bested you because I'm the better player, Jackdaw.”

His eyes glittered, amber and gold, captivated. His intense stare was unnerving in the best way. Was he trying to figure you out? Or was this simply another attempt at seduction?

“I'm afraid I have time booked in the music room to practice on the pianoforte,” you said, clutching your books tighter against your chest. 

“Oh, you play? I knew there must be a reason why I find myself so drawn to you,” he purred. 

“Yes, so I'm afraid our rematch will have to wait—”

“May I join you?”

The question caught you by surprise. There was no particular reason to say no; in fact the thought of spending more time with him wasn't entirely unpleasant.

“You want to listen to me play?” you asked, suddenly nervous.

“I thought I might accompany you. I play the violin. There are surely some sonatas that are suitable?”

Another surprising revelation.

“I…suppose so, yes.” 

Barely ten minutes later you were settled in front of the pianoforte in the middle of the music room, with Richard quietly tuning his violin. The music you’d retrieved felt suddenly intimidating as you shuffled through the sheets. It was imperative you found the right piece, for this was another competition of sorts.

Something challenging, then.

“Any joy?” he asked, sauntering to your side to look over your shoulder, his hips swaying in your periphery. You licked your lips. From his vantage point he could no doubt see down your dress. 

Rake.

“Sonata number eighteen in G major,” you replied primly. “You know it?”

“Who doesn’t know Mozart, my dear?”

You knew this piece well enough for your fingers to fly across the keys with little thought, muscle memory taking over. The notes on the manuscript before you held little interest compared to the man beside you. He played effortlessly, superbly. His fluid strokes were hypnotic, deft fingers stretching wide, flying across strings to create the most enchanting accompaniment to your own melody. His eyes were shut, lost to the music, giving you ample opportunity to watch him unashamedly.

There was something undeniably erotic about his performance; so enraptured he was with the sonata that every lilt came with a peak of his eyebrows, his lips parted as he moved and swayed along with the rhythm. He threw his all into his performance, and you could practically hear his heart thumping along with your own. 

Fingers teased the strings, stroking with precision. The crescendo of the piece coincided with a lurch in your stomach, and his eyes flew open as his final vibrato rang out. A final chord, a slice of his bow and then the music ended; deathly silence filled the room. Your chest heaved as he held your gaze, breathless. You knew then that he felt the same agonising tension, the same magnetic pull.

He was the first to smile and break the silence. “We do make such beautiful music together, don't we?”

You blinked, but did not—could not—deny it. You wanted to believe that whatever this was had been special for him, as it had been for you, but you knew better, did you not? The thought made you quite ill.

“Is that what you say to all the girls, Jackdaw? Before you slip your tongue into their mouths?” you gasped, struggling to compose yourself.

“Wh-what?” He staggered back, looking wounded as his violin dropped to his side.

“Come now, everyone knows you've kissed half the girls in school!”

You stood up suddenly, stool scraping across the floor. Gathering your sheet music, you intended to leave then, to chastise yourself in private for having fallen for Richard's charms so wholly. How foolish to think that you had been special. Richard opened his mouth, then shut it, then opened it again, like a damned fish. Why was he so surprised that you'd figured out his game?

“Good Gods, no! Who said that?”

Richard made his way to your side, forcing you to look at him. If he had been anyone else you might have recognised hurt in his eyes, or confusion, even. 

“Everyone, Richard!” you said shakily, still vibrating with whatever had passed between you only moments ago. He'd knocked you off-kilter, filled you with a warmth you recognised but ought to be ashamed of.

He reached out, faltering only inches from your hand. His voice dipped to a mere whisper. “All because I enjoy complimenting the fairer sex? That hardly seems fair.”

You shook your head in disbelief. “So you didn't accompany me here just to try to get your hands up my skirts?”

“Well, I certainly wouldn't say no to that prospect,” he laughed, but his smile faltered into sincerity. “I've had my eye on you, surely you've noticed? Just you.”

Your breath caught, hands stilling on the stack of music that had changed everything. Had you been mistaken? You thought back to every recent interaction with Richard. He had sought you out to play chess, held your eye when he offered his compliments, followed you here and played beautiful music with you. 

“Have you?” you managed to ask.

“I can't quite forget how you so effortlessly bested me at chess.”

“Me neither.”

“And that…playing with you…”

You subconsciously parted your lips as he moved closer, drawn towards your quivering body that yearned for his touch. You must have sighed his name as he offered up a gentle ‘yes?’ before capturing your mouth in his. 

Lips as soft as pillows pressed gently to yours, tentatively exploring how you fit together. Perfectly, as it was. He drew in your lower lip between his teeth as his hands finally found your waist, warmth unfurling in your abdomen at the slightest brush. You were as tightly wound as the strings that now strained under the hammer on the pianoforte, as you found yourself pushed backwards onto the keys. The almighty racket that ensued thankfully drowned out most of your whimpers, but not all.

To be caught now would cause enough scandal to last a lifetime. You would be shamed, ridiculed, cast out from polite society.

Then why couldn't you stop? 

All reason had fled you. Only a primal desire to be ravaged by this man remained.

Richard seemed to be struggling similarly, his hands flexing against your ribcage in a poor attempt at control. His tongue glided across your lips seeking entry, and your gasp invited him in. Languorous swipes had you falling apart in his arms, your hands struggling for purchase against the instrument behind you as you felt your legs weaken. A clatter of chords and mismatched harmonies created a deafening cacophony, the only rhythm to be heard belonging to your straining heart. 

That pulse settled firmly between your thighs, urging you to let Richard have his way with you—for that was where this was headed, you had no doubt. You felt his same desire pressed against your hip, stiff and unyielding. He held you against him in that same restrained way, fingertips bruising your hips through layers of cotton.

When you broke away for breath, Richard startled and almost fell against you, an arm bracing on the pianoforte, caging you in. His eyes were wild, his hair a mass of chocolate curls that fell over his eyes. Had you caused that? You'd been so preoccupied with his lips that you'd barely noticed your fingers curled in his mane. Your fingers wound tighter around the silken strands, trying to find the words to assuage your guilt.

“Promise me I'm not just another notch on your bedpost, Jackdaw.”

He grinned then, all dimples and flushed cheeks. “Darling you are the only notch, if you'll have me.”

“Oh. Yes.”

His lips crashed back into yours, Richard’s low groan speaking of his relief. The pianoforte behind you gave another almighty belch of clashing notes. Your hands grappled behind you to close the lid and it slammed shut. His lips curled in a smile as he maneuvered you backwards, hands shamelessly sliding underneath your behind to hoist you onto the wood. 

Lips found your jaw, your neck.

His tongue laved the skin below your ear, hot and wet and insistent. 

Every nerve ending was ablaze, the throbbing between your thighs growing almost painful. Richard had the enthusiasm you’d expected but the fumbling of your skirts and a clash of teeth told you that perhaps he did indeed have no more experience than yourself. It didn’t matter—the passion was enough.

Those nevertheless skillful hands soon wrapped around your calves, sliding higher and higher, far too slowly. You wobbled on your precarious perch, cracking open your eyelids to peer down at him. Richard had his lips still firmly glued to your neck, licking and sucking until you felt the sting of a blooming bruise. Your dress glided higher, over your knees now; an agonising ascent. Finally his palms skimmed your inner thigh and hesitated at the border of cotton and skin.

You were loathe to beg, but every passing second was torture without the contact you so craved.

“Please, Richard…”

He moaned against your neck as he slid his fingers to your centre, the slit in your undergarments providing easy access. That first press against your clit provided an explosion of pleasure, and the gliding strokes that followed had your back arching clean off the instrument behind you. 

So distracted were you that you barely registered when Richard’s weight had disappeared from your body, the chill air of the music room suddenly shocking you back into focus. His head had dipped below your skirts, knelt before you as if in worship. 

You blushed, furiously, gnawing at your lips. You hadn't expected this much attention. He surprised you at every turn, from his hidden talents (present situation included) to his willingness to attend to your needs first. He kissed your thighs, murmuring and moaning against your skin whilst his thumb—slick from your own arousal—rubbed exquisite circles between your folds. Any sort of worry about where you found yourself, who might walk in and how Richard saw you from his present vantage point simply melted away in a haze of pleasure.

He played you as expertly as his violin, teasing moans from your lips just as he coaxed forth beautiful melodies. Your fingers curled into his hair, gentle tugs that grew in urgency the closer you approached your peak—and it came on with such haste that you feared you might never be satisfied by your own hand again. 

“May I taste you?”

The question came from nowhere, his thumb still gliding, teeth returned to the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Wh-what?”

“My tongue, can I use it—” he pressed more firmly against your clit, eliciting from you a whimper “—here?”

Without waiting for an answer—which you weren't sure you could manage to articulate anyway—Richard gripped your thigh and pressed it wider, higher, resting your leg on his shoulder. Your skin was burning now, being so exposed, laid so bare. You tried to tug your skirt down but he brushed your hand away, instead gripping it in his and locking your fingers together. 

“Oh…”

Richard smiled up at you, before delving back between your legs. The first swipe of his tongue against your sensitive bundle had you squirming in surprise whilst your unrestrained moans filled the room. Richard squeezed your hand tighter as his tongue dipped inside you, gently at first, then more insistent. Deeper he delved, teasing you open until you began to relax around his muscle.

He was preparing you for what was to come.

You shuddered at the thought, a quiver of unbridled lust.

By the way he groaned, he seemed to enjoy using his tongue to pleasure you. You chanced a peek over your bodice to watch him, his hair in disarray and cheeks as flushed as your breasts. Then his eyes flew open as if sensing you watching, locking his soft chestnut gaze on you whilst he worked. You couldn't look away; his dishevelment was utterly captivating.

“You're…ever so good at that,” you gasped, your breath quivering.

Richard smiled in return and wriggled his eyebrows. He was flirting with you still whilst doing that! The most frustrating thing seemed to be that it was working. Your stomach gave an almighty lurch, butterflies caught in a whirlwind, all trapped behind your ribcage. 

His tongue returned to your clit for the finale, sensing your climax by the shake of your legs and the increasing pitch of your moans. The bell in the tower above chimed as you came undone, masking your cries and muddling what should have been pure ecstasy. Panic mingled with pleasure.

Only once did it ring, then the gargantuan bell fell silent but for the waning hum as the pianoforte vibrated beneath you.

“No…oh Gods!” Still caught in the wave of your orgasm, you struggled to speak.

“What's wrong?” Richard asked.

“Ch-choir!”

His eyes flew wide as he understood your meaning, and suddenly he was over you instead of under you, your leg no longer supported. He caught you in his arms before you could fall, strong hands gripping your waist as your skirts fell back to the floor. 

You felt the steady stream of saliva and your own juices run down your leg as you righted yourself, and what little shame you had left flared, muted by the terror of being caught. As you both ran up creaking wooden stairs, away from the approaching voices outside the music room door, you grinned. 

What scandal—what a thrill.

Richard had hold of your hand, pulling you through the door to the bell tower stairs just in time as the Hogwarts choir bustled into the music room for their weekly practice. You practically fell into his arms in relief, huddled in the dank, dark store room, gasping for breath. You felt his heart pounding beneath your palm, the heat from his skin, and—to your disbelief—he was still achingly erect. These close quarters did nothing to quell your excitement, still buzzing with lustful want despite, or because of, the fear of your capture.

“What should we do now?” he asked, barely a whisper.

This store room was not ideal for a romantic rendezvous, nor even an illicit one. Dim light trickled down the stairwell to illuminate a square on the floor—a greyish patch of dust and cobwebs—and the little ambient glow was barely enough to see Richard's face by. But, it was enough. His plump lips, the shine of his chin, sparkling eyes and the curls that dusted his brow—you saw it all in soft contrast, and answered him with a kiss.

He returned it with fervour even whilst the students below crashed about and chatted loudly. Neither of you seemed to care; the reward far outweighed the risk.

Richard pressed himself against you, his cock impossibly hard against your hip, whilst his hands slid to your behind and held you firmly in place. His breath was hot and heavy, coming in pants between slippery swipes of tongue. All technique had flown out the window, and you threw your arms around him to press yourself flush against his chest. You wanted every inch of your body in contact with his, to feel the warmth beneath his clothes against your touch-deprived skin.

Stripping yourself of clothes might be a step too far, however. You would settle for what you could—and that involved him once again bundling the heavy fabric of your skirts around your waist whilst guiding you backwards until your thighs hit something solid. A box or chest, a crate maybe. Whatever it is would serve your needs—another perch for you to be defiled on.

You wrapped a hand around his cravat, pulling him between your legs as you shuffled backwards. You heard the pop of buttons as his breeches came undone, saw the pink of his head strain against the fabric until his erection fell into his waiting hand. Reaching out to stroke him, you felt the weight, the girth as your fingers curled around his shaft. Richard was blessed, that much was clear. Saliva pooled in your mouth at the thought of taking him, your core fluttering with need.

The din from below had dulled to a quiet murmur as the choir took their places and readied themselves for their first song. 

Richard nibbled at your lower lip as he lined himself up with your entrance. 

His cock twitched when you bit back. 

The music began, and you knew nothing but bliss as Richard filled you completely. You wrapped your legs around his waist and leaned back, gaping in awe at where you joined. Even in the semi-darkness you saw what a mess you were, the fabric of your bloomers sticky and tattered. 

The voices grew louder, beautiful and mesmerising to behold.

Richard withdrew with a low groan, and he pressed his palm down firmly on your abdomen before thrusting slowly back into you, even deeper than before. You tried to stifle your moans with your own fist, but what did it matter? You could be as loud as you wanted to be whilst the choir’s harmonies filled the bell tower.

He leaned into your ear. “Good girl. How do you feel?”

“Good…amazing…”

A twinge of pain made you wince as he bottomed out, and he held still, searching your eyes. 

“Don't stop, Richard.”

“Godric’s heart,” he whispered barely audibly before pulling out and slamming back inside you.

You saw stars, perhaps even heaven itself as he fucked you into oblivion. Fingers bruised your hips, a messy clash of teeth and tongues, desperate moans into each other's mouths. It was everything you'd dreamed of yet nothing like the fantasies of a perfect night under the stars or a gentle romp in your bedchamber. This was raw and feverish and utterly glorious. 

“I never want to stop,” he said. Or at least you thought that's what he'd said—it was hard to tell through the swell of voices from below. The choir approached their impressive finale, perfectly masking your sobs as Richard made you come again. You fell limp into his arms and gripped his back tightly, nose nestled into the crook of his neck as he pounded into you through the waves of your orgasm.

He smelled of ink, wood and musk. Heady, beautiful.

Your mouth spilled forth utter filth; expletives you'd dare not use around anyone. To your shame, you begged him to fill you, a testament to just how addled you were. 

“I will. I'm going to fill you until you can't take another drop.”

Oh, Gods, this scoundrel of a man.

Richard didn't falter, hips snapping faster and harder. He moaned so loud you thought you'd be discovered after all, looking deep into your eyes as he came. His cock pulsed, a final hard thrust so deep you almost screamed, and his seed spilled inside you. His release came thick and fast, and you kissed him through it all, muttering his name as he did your own.  

The warbling from below died, the song finished; and so too were you.

Clarity is a wonderful thing, when one is able to come by it. It had all but fled the moment his lips met yours, and was flooding back now.

Atop a dusty box in a store room, Richard Jackdaw had deflowered you. 

Richard Jackdaw—notorious philanderer.

“I hope we can do that again—” he kissed you, so softly his lips were a mere whisper “—and again.”

You searched his eyes for any hint of a lie, but found none.

“The duet or the…other thing?”

“Both, preferably.” Richard peppered your cheeks with kisses, smiling in a dazed sort of way. He looked quite endearing like this. Vulnerable, even.

“That depends entirely on you, Jack—Richard,” you said, rather sternly, though the effect was rather ruined by his steadily softening cock still being buried inside you.

“On me? Then you are willing?”

“I want you to woo me, to court me, and to stop flirting with every girl in the school.”

“Tch, such demands!” he said, grinning. You swatted his arm, but he chuckled and kissed you again, harder this time. “Of course. How could I possibly want anyone else?”

Your breath hitched then, rendering you speechless.

Did you believe him? This man of such ill repute? 

He kissed your hand as if you had all the time in the world to ponder the question. That smile, those lips—they were intoxicating. This could be a trap, and you an unwitting victim of his charms, but then again you could be wholly wrong about him.

Only time would tell if this rake was worthy of your heart.

[holdmymallowsweet]

A Wisp of Affection

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC

Word count: 1,635

A chance meeting in the depth of a summer night leads to some playful banter, and an intriguing question.

Also on AO3, properly tagged

a/n: I’ve been feeling a certain way about this ghost boy lately, and then I came across Sasha Alex Sloan’s “Dancing with your Ghost” by chance and it put me in a wonderfully melancholic mood. And now that you know what to blame for this, enjoy.

There was something enticing about the Forbidden Forest at night. Laced with a prickling sense of danger, it promised adventure and glory- or perhaps notoriety, for those bold enough to venture into it. He might not have met an untimely death, if it hadn’t been for his odd fascination with the place.

Soft footsteps and rustling in the grass told him someone was approaching, and he felt her presence before he even saw her.

She found him again.

He turned his head to look at her, which always startled her a bit-

But then, where was the fun in getting his head cut off, if he couldn’t use it for comedic effect? And it always made her laugh in the end.

This time was no different, eyebrows raised in a slightly disturbed frown, corners of her lips twitching upwards, she gave him a quick huff of laughter before closing the distance between them. 

“Hello, Jackdaw.”

She strode over to him, disturbing a swarm of fireflies as she went, before she sat down.

“Hello, you. Out for a midnight stroll?”

“Always, you know me.” She flashed him another one of her playful smiles.

He returned it fondly. They both liked to pretend that she came across him by accident when they met like this, usually in the depth of night, when everything was quiet, save for the ambient sounds of the forest. He always found it romantic, although not many agreed, at least not the girls he tried to court when he was alive.

She took a deep breath of air. The fireflies illuminating her skin when they flew close and the serene look on her face made her feel like something out of a dream. More of an apparition than himself. The sight would have made his heart flutter, if he’d had one. She brushed a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear, only getting it at the second try, and he wished he could have done it for her.

He’d known they were kindred spirits when he sent her off into the cave where he met his demise. When he noticed she still had her head, the next time he saw her, he was both relieved and disappointed. He wasn’t entirely sure how tangible relationships between ghosts could be, but Merlin, he’d have liked to discover it with her, if it had come to that.

Curious, fearless, playful and teasing in a way that felt warm and endearing rather than malicious. Traits that Anne had once shared with her, before Azkaban cruelly burnt them away. Perhaps that’s why he’d briefly entertained the notion of picking up where he left off with this one.

It was quite pointless to think about, really. He wasn’t of her world, and she wasn’t from his time, not even born yet when he was alive. It was no matter, he’d never mature- mentally or physically- beyond his 17 year old self. Whatever it was that they shared on these summer nights, it was a fleeting sensation. Soon enough, she’d outgrow him, worry about employment and other adult responsibilities, perhaps remember him as a schoolgirl crush as she aged while he would be no different than he was now. Waiting around for the next lass or lad who’d indulge him, but she’d likely always be one of his favourites.

He looked up at her- which reminded him that he was still holding his head, which he promptly replaced on his neck- waiting for her to speak. In the beginning, he’d tried to woo her with tales of his adventures, but she wasn’t easily impressed. Understandable, as she had plenty of adventures of her own under her belt. Over time, he realised that it was more rewarding to enjoy the silence with her, until she’d suddenly have a thought, or a question that led to something- a jaunt through the forest or sometimes just a bit of teasing back and forth between them, but he loved it all the same. 

“How’s Anne?”

All right, not what he’d hoped for. 

“Much the same, really, but I don’t want to talk about Anne right now.” He only ever visited her in St. Mungos out of a sense of moral obligation, she only vaguely remembered him and they no longer had anything to talk about anyway. Being ultimately responsible for her fate, the guilt would forever stay with him, but he didn’t want to let it spoil the moment.

She said nothing, only measured him with those piercing eyes of hers that seemed to see right through him, in more ways than the obvious one. She’d always been the perceptive sort, had a knack for figuring out what went on in the heads of others. It could be quite unnerving, but thrilling at the same time.

“How come I never see you around the castle?” she asked, evidently content to drop her previous question.

“Why, did you miss me?”  

He’d avoided her on purpose. She had her own life in the light of day, and he didn’t want to constantly fight the temptation to invade her privacy. This was at most a dalliance, not the romance of the century, and it was better that way, considering their circumstances.

“Do you remember the deathday ballroom? I thought I’d see you there sometimes, but I never do.” 

He made a face. “Not really my preferred choice of location. Or company.”

She chuckled. “Not one for dancing, are you?”

“Did you happen to take a look at the other ghosts? Hardly anyone there who’s not old enough to be my mother. Or my grandmother.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain at least some of them died after you.”

“That’s not really how this works.”

She laughed. If only he could dance with her- 

Actually, perhaps he could. One of those stiff, boring dances that didn’t involve touching. He watched her as she pushed back that strand of hair again. It was hard to imagine her curtsying in a pretty dress anyway, she looked much better running and scrambling through the forest, with the hems of her robes frayed beyond the capabilities of even the most potent repairing charms.

“You know, speaking of dance partners…” 

“Yes?” He was perfectly willing to change his mind though, if that’s where she was going with this.

“Have you ever kissed someone?” she asked, giving him a curious look.

“I’ve done more than kissing, little fledgeling. I was quite popular with the girls in my time.”

She raised an eyebrow and gave him a derisive snort. “Oh? How’d that work out for you?”

He grimaced. Poorly almost seemed to be an understatement, but then neither of them had ever been as good a match for him as her. More willing and able to follow his clues and solve his riddles than Anne, more intrigued by the treasures in his thief’s den than Apollonia- she was a bit of a magpie herself, much like him. They would have been so good together.

“Why, looking to take advantage of my expertise, are you?” She had no shortage of male acquaintances she might possibly want to kiss. Personally, his galleons were on the freckled brunet- that one reminded him a bit of himself. He wasn’t sure what she would have wanted with the sarcastic, blind one, but then there was no accounting for taste, and she always was a bit unpredictable. He wouldn’t blame her either way, there could never be anything real between the two of them, and she had needs like any other person.

“Do you miss it?”

“Obviously.”

She didn’t respond immediately, staring at her outstretched legs, tapping the tips of her boots together.

“If someone kissed you… uhm, had their lips close enough to yours that you would be kissing, I suppose, do you think you could feel it?”

He took a moment to stare at her. “Of course not.” 

She turned to meet his eyes. Was he imagining the slight blush on her cheeks? It was hard to tell in the darkness. Was this going where he thought it was?

“I mean emotionally. You can clearly feel joy, and sadness-”

“Only one way to find out.” He swiftly grabbed his head again, holding it so that he was at eye level with her- if she wanted to, she could laugh, play it off as a joke.

Merlin, that startled expression was even more adorable up close, and her theory was already proven right. He couldn’t remember ever being so excited and nervous about a kiss, not even when he was alive. But there was no way he’d tell her, not while there was still a chance that she’d close the distance, and he could perhaps feel the tiniest sliver of her warmth, or get an idea of what she tasted like.

He almost couldn’t believe his luck when she leaned forward, close enough that he could count her eyelashes, only to stop a finger’s width away from his lips. 

Then she smirked. “Did you think I was going to give you my first kiss? Just like that?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have to count-” he pouted.

She laughed. “If you want my kiss, you’ll have to earn it.”

“How?”

She stood up, brushing dirt off her robes. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” she said, flashing him a last, teasing smile before she turned around and started walking back the way she’d come.

“You’re leaving?” 

“For today.”

His mind feverishly tried to come up with something, anything, to get her to stay.

“Wait.”

She turned around, looking at him expectantly.

“How about a riddle? Just for you. In exchange for the kiss.”

Her eyes sparkled.

There was no version of forever that they could share, but on these summer nights, for a brief, fleeting moment in time, she was his.

a/n 2 : So there you go, I wrote this over the course of two glorious moody summer nights and it was so much fun. They always say ‘write what you want to read’, and this really is just something I really, really wanted at that moment, but if you liked it as well (let me know if you did) I’m happy. ❤️ This little encounter takes place after the whole Ranrok issue is resolved and Mc is just another (adventurous) student, Anne has been released from Azkaban and is living at St. Mungo’s permanent care ward, while Jackdaw is trying to settle in as one of Hogwarts’ ghosts. Also, I always imagined Jackdaw as a Slytherin (but I’m coming around to Ravenclaw!Jackdaw) and both MC and Anne as muggleborn Hufflepuffs (I just like the idea of those two being awfully similar, but with the crucial difference that Mc really is as adventurous and clever as Jackdaw expected Anne to be), but in the end none of their houses came up 😅 And finally, english isn’t my first language, so if you liked the story but you had a “she keeps using that word, I don’t think it means what she thinks it means” moment, feel free to let me know (just be nice about it) Cheers!

[polarisgreenley]

A Bouquet of New Beginnings: Chapter 27 "Poinsettia"

Summary: Little things before winter break

Floriography: Merriment

Full Chapter: [AO3]//5.2k words

Excerpt below:

“Ready, Richard?”

“I’m always ready but, why by broom?”

Artemis mounted her Moon Trimmer. “Can ghosts go through floo flames?”

Richard lifted a finger with his mouth open as if to retort, then shrugged.

“Fair point. Alright, lead the way.”

“Libro.”

Sensory Balancing Charm in place, she kicked off the top of the Astronomy Tower with Richard in tow. The clouds had cleared to reveal a beautiful, starry winter sky, and her breath puffed white smoke as the wind bit her skin. The borrowed gloves clung to the broom handle as the thick, borrowed cloak billowed. There now lay a thick layer of fresh, white snow over the usual ground canopied in the dark green pine.

“Not that I’m ungrateful but, why are we going to do my funeral at two in the morning?”

Richard seemed to have no issue keeping up – that’s one less worry at least.

“Well. You said you preferred to do it at night when everyone was asleep ‘just like the good old days’, and I’d like to do this before winter holidays. Plus, I thought you could also help me with gathering some first snow.”

“Um. I feel honoured that you think me so alive but slight problem?” Richard passed his hand through her broom. “Not solid. Bit of a problem trying to pick things up.”

Artemis shook her head with a smile. Her borrowed scarf kept the sharpest edges of the winter wind at bay.

“I just wanted your company, Richard.”

“Oh!” Richard beamed. “Well why didn’t you just say so! Allons-y!”

At least it seemed like he picked up some French.  

[animasola86]

Compact Masterlist

of my Sebastian Sallow Fiction

For more details on my writings (including summaries and tags), check out my original Fanfiction Masterlist!

Red links go to AO3, normal to tumblr.

All one-shots are available on tumblr and can be read independent from each other, but some belong to a series and if you like to read all of them combined, check the AO3 link!

(mc=she/her, reader=you, f=female, m=male, gn=gender neutral)

🌶️ = NSFW 🌸= SFW

On-going series:

A Blessing and a Curse (f!Ravenclaw mc) 🌸

The Darkness Within (f!Gryffindor mc + Tom Riddle) 🌶️

Throw me into the Tempest (f!Hufflepuff reader) 🌸

In Your Care (f!mc/modern AU) 🌶️

Completed One-Shots/Series:

The Ghost under the Table (f!reader) 🌶️

The Friendly Ghost

The Sweet Revenge

Ghosts on the Table (Part 1)

Ghosts on the Table (Part 2)

A Night in the Undercroft (f!mc) 🌶️

The Night (Part 1)

The Night (Part 2)

The Nightmare

The Day After 🌸

A Filthy Fantasy (f!reader) 🌶️

A Filthy Fantasy (Part 1)

A Filthy Fantasy (Part 2)

Aftercare 🌸

A Scholar and a Pervert (f!reader) 🌶️

A Scholar and a Pervert

The Magic Toy (Part 1)

The Magic Toy (Part 2)

The Horny Ghost (f!mc + Richard Jackdaw) 🌶️

You were made for me and only me (f!mc) 🌶️

It belongs to me

Mine!

Yours to take

Darling, put your seed in me! (f!reader) 🌶️

It is that time again, darling!

Come back to bed, baby!

A Special Kind of Bond (f!reader) 🌶️

A Special Bond

A Special Guest

A Special Roommate

A Special Need

A Special Night

A Special Kind of Liquid

Pleasant Dreams... and Tentacles (f!mc) 🌶️

Pleasant dreams... and tentacles

Nightmares... and helpful snakes

Lessons in Love-Making (f!reader) 🌶️

Pain Relief (f!reader) 🌶️

A Bloody Mess (f!reader) 🌶️

Avid Reader (f!mc) 🌶️

Take your Anger (m!reader) 🌶️ (and stick it where the sun don't shine)

Hands (f!reader) 🌶️

News travels fast in Hogwarts (f!reader + Aesop Sharp) 🌸

Just Breathe (gn!reader) 🌸

Just another adventure, right? (gn!reader/1st person POV) 🌸

[sols-actual-main-blog]

10 Question Tag

I was tagged by @itstheenglishkid on my main, @sol-martell , but I’d rather answer it on here. Thanks for tagging, tho. :)

1. If your WIP was made into a (good) film or TV show, which actors would you want to be in it? Oh my god, do you know how long I waited for this question? My ideal cast would be the following:

Josephine - Ellie Kendrick Violet - Faye Marsay/Kristen Stewart Gary - Iwan Rheon Jackdaw - Harry Lloyd Alistair - Aidan Gillen Diana - Diane Neal Arthur - Nikolaj Coster-Waldau Frank - Benedict Cumberbatch Lisa - Renee Olstedt Benley - Pierce Brosnan Aunt Abby - Meryl Streep Mr. Chamberlaine - Richard Gere Henry - Grayson Russell Reilly - Olivia Wilde Fox - Martin Freeman Craig - Gerald Butler Ava - Michelle Fairley Hank - Robert Sean Leonard Charlotte Dale - Kerry O'Malley Mrs. Barrett - Kate Dickie Mr. Barrett - Hugh Laurie

Erm. *pretends to not have this prepared for ages* 2. Have you ever written something in a genre you don’t read (at all?) Hm. Don’t know. I never really read a steampunk novel, because I simply never found one worth reading, but I’m totally determined to write one. 3. What is your current favourite TV show? Also hm. I used to love Game of Thrones, but it became so horribly bad over the last three seasons, I no longer watch it at all, so I’ll go with The Simpsons and the heute-show (literally today-show; a German political satire show, kinda similar to Last Week Tonight with John Oliver). 4. Is it currently raining where you live? It’s pouring since I returned from Italy here. Hello autumn, I guess. 5. Why did you choose your URL name? Well, because my internet pseudonym for almost everything is Sol Martell in different variations, but I used that for my main already, so I simply called this blog sols-writer-blog, because that’s literally what it is. Not very original, but yeah. 6. Do you play video games? Nope. 7. Would you ever want people to write fanfictions to your book? Yes, I’d feel honored, because people loved my work so much they want to write more of it. Most probably I’d ask them to stay away from smut, because I think blatant smut in general a little offensive to the author, but in the end, I don’t have to read it, so it’s kinda unimportant. 8. What is your favourite kind of ice cream? I like coffee ice cream, also vanilla and yoghurt. 9. Who is your least favourite OC? What is their favourite ice cream? Not sure, but it’s probably Art. He just doesn’t feel right to me, a bit too shallow maybe or too cliché, I don’t know. Anyway, his favourite ice cream is After Eight, of course. 10. Do you think a hotdog is a sandwich? Why, no? (To be fair, a sandwich in German is probably something else than elsewhere, so maybe I misunderstood the question a bit).

Here, have my questions:

1. Do you have a writing idol? Who is it and why? 2. Do you write real people into you stories? 3. If you had to stick to one genre only, which would you choose? 4. If there was a TV show or film of your WIP, who should star in it? (Yes, stealing this question. It’s just too damn good!) 5. Are there any songs you associate to certain characters from your works? 6. A romance as the main plot, yay or nay? 7. What would you want to study, if you could choose any subject? 8. Character-driven or plot-driven story? 9. Real world setting or inventing a new world? 10. Where do you position yourself politically? As I already did this once and probably already tagged you the first time, feel free to ignore me: @seriophi @blackgirlmagicwrites @quiet-tiime @isnappedmypencil @edoqawa

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 1: Fools and Hopeless Liars

Series tags: explicit | smut | pining | voyeurism | masturbation | sex | angst | death

Summary: An unexpected love affair with a man long since passed leads to a desperate quest to pull him back through the veil to the land of the living. Such things come with a hefty price.

The blush that spread across her cheeks was delicious as he smiled down at her. He may not be able to touch her, but words can have quite the effect all on their own; swinging moods and eliciting emotions with only a few uttered sounds. Richard had thought of all manner of things he'd like to say to her, to whisper in her ear; some of which might have shocked a lady of his time. Lila didn't seem the kind to shy away from such things—she had a fiery spirit. If he'd been living, he might have contemplated repeating the words one day. Asking for her company. Throwing his hat into the ring, as it were. But he wasn't. He had nothing to offer such a woman. He was a fool.

[cuffmeinblack]

Richard Jackdaw masterlist

Ao3: cuffmeinblack

Buy me a cuppa 🖤

Full masterlist for all characters is here

Reader inserts female unless specified otherwise.

Richard and Jackdaws (headcanons)

Favourite moments & headcanons

Richard Jackdaw x f!OC

Veil

angst, romance, 85.1k words 🔞

Read on ao3 | moodboard

An unexpected love affair with a man long since passed leads Lila on a desperate quest to pull him back through the veil to the land of the living. She soon finds that such things come with a hefty price.

Richard Jackdaw x reader

A Man Of Ill Repute (ao3 link) - smut, alive!Richard, 4k words 🔞

Richard has a reputation as quite the flirt; a scoundrel, even. But you can't deny your attraction to him, or the ways in which he surprises you.

Other

Alive!Richard screenshots

Alive!Richard compared to Garreth

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 10: Intra Muros

Series tags: explicit | pining | romance | sex | angst | death | canon-divergent

Summary: Lila and Richard make preparations to use the stone as Sebastian discovers something Lila has been keeping secret.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to you at the weekend, then? What in blazes is going on, Lila?” Lila dropped her voice to a whisper as she began scrubbing the outside of the cauldron. “It’s hard to explain everything, but…well, suffice to say I met Ominis’ family that night and it didn’t go terribly well.” “His family? Why in Merlin’s name would you do that?” “Like I said, it’s a long story.” Garreth sighed and shook his head, his hair flopping into his face as he scrubbed the cauldron ever harder. Lila’s familiar and unwelcome companion of guilt reared its ugly head then, gnawing at her chest with sharp fangs that threatened to tear her composure apart. Why was she keeping one of her best friends in the dark? Garreth would know soon enough, when Richard returned whole and mortal once more. The answer only dredged up the fears she’d fought so hard to bury. He might ask her questions that she hated to dwell on. 

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 4: Temptation

Series tags: explicit | smut | pining | voyeurism | masturbation | sex | angst | death

Summary: Richard and Lila begin their courtship as Lila keeps their involvement a secret from her friends.

"What's got you looking like you've been sucking on a sherbet lemon, Seb?" Lila asked innocently, though she knew the answer. “You spend all of your time with him , or Weasley. Huddled together, whispering…,” Sebastian muttered, failing to keep the bitterness from his voice. “Ignore Sebastian, Lila,” Ominis sighed. Lila nibbled her toast, irritation bubbling up and threatening to spill in the form of a harsh retort, but he had a point . She'd been neglecting her friends of late. “No, he’s right. Sort of ,” Lila added as she spotted Sebastian’s smug smirk. “I’ve been a bit absent lately, I’m sorry.” “You’re quite at liberty to spend your time with anyone you wish,” Ominis said.

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 11: Reborn

Series tags: explicit | pining | romance | sex | angst | death | canon-divergent

Summary: Richard enjoys his first day as a mortal man once more.

The door shimmered into view, brass details snaking their way through the stone wall and Lila stopped her pacing, now staring at the intricate woodwork and towering arch—anywhere but at Richard. Stepping forward, he placed a hand on her waist, fingers gripping her tightly. “Are you nervous?” he asked. “A little. It’s silly, isn’t it?” “No, it’s not. I am, too. We’ve been waiting so long…” She cut him off with a kiss, her eyes full of fire as she pulled away. With a beckoning hand, she led him into the room, and Richard hummed his approval as he stepped inside. It closely resembled her dormitory with its rich furnishings, four-poster bed and arched windows showing a conjured starry sky. Candles scattered around the room casting a warm glow on the bed linen, and on Lila’s ivory skin that held just a touch of blush. A familiar setting for comfort, but completely private—it was perfect.

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 13: A Debt Owed

Series tags: explicit | pining | romance | sex | angst | death | canon-divergent

Summary: Richard settles into his new home and Lila has a fraught encounter with a newfound enemy.

The great stone gargoyle stood in front of her in no time, finding none other than Scrope waiting attentively on the first step. The elf's missing ear was now a cleanly-healed stump, yet Lila couldn't help but notice the fresh new bandages wrapped around his knuckles. She frowned. “Miss Kirke? Headmaster Black is waiting for you, if you'll follow me.” Of course Lila shouldn't have known the password to his office, and she wondered if he'd bothered changing it since her fifth year. Not likely—Phileas Nigellus was far too proud and arrogant to have it changed from the Black family motto. Her heart beat rapidly as she ascended, faltering altogether once she stepped inside the office and noticed that her headmaster wasn't its only occupant. She recognised the other man immediately by the way he held himself; stiff, with an air of superiority even noticeable whilst turned away from Lila. That, and the tailored robes that were far more ostentatious than even Professor Black's tailcoat and ruffled cravat. Her headmaster looked distinctly nervous as he twirled his moustache; quite unexpected. He only met Lila's eyes when Scrope announced her presence, yet Tiberius Gaunt didn't deign to acknowledge her entrance.

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 3: Heart and Soul

Series tags: explicit | smut | pining | voyeurism | masturbation | sex | angst | death

Summary: Richard attempts to keep his distance from Lila as his guilt over his affection grows.

"Have you thought over your dilemma?" she asked, eyes fixed on something in the distance. "I have," Richard nodded. Helena waited, not bothering to fill the silence, letting it linger and grow awkward. Perhaps social etiquette had evolved since however many hundreds of years ago she had died. "Well, I thought it best to avoid her for the foreseeable," Richard said. Helena simply nodded, looking solemn once again. "Perhaps it is for the best to keep your feelings a secret. I would so hate to see your love spurned," she replied with a shudder made for dramatic effect. "You don't believe she feels as I do? I'm sure I…" "Richard, we are merely pale imitations of the people we once were. No living girl could truly love you."

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 7: Family Ties

Series tags: explicit | pining | romance | sex | angst | death | canon-divergent

Summary: Lila finally has a breakthrough in her search for information, at the cost of her friendships.

Lila glanced around the room, gesturing for him to follow her to a quiet corner near a window, which he did with a curious frown. “I was wondering if you were familiar with a magical artifact called the erm…resurrection stone,” she said, wringing her hands nervously. “The… resurrection stone?” he asked, his eyes lighting up. 

She immediately regretted her decision to ask a ghost of all people about a stone with the ability to bring people back to life, and she chastised her hastiness. As it turned out, he had no idea what she was referring to, and Lila told him it was merely a story she was interested in reading about. She left him looking disappointed, striding out of the tower to her next destination, rearranging her mental list as she walked. She spent her entire double free period talking to various portraits around the school—almost every single one had never heard of such a thing, and the others who had tried their best to convince her that it was nothing but a rumour, a folk tale. Not until she approached the charming bard in central hall did she finally get an answer. Truthfully, she hadn’t expected him to know a thing, but he surprised her by giving her a name, something he’d heard years ago uttered quietly by passing professors.

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 8: Revelations

Series tags: explicit | pining | romance | sex | angst | death | canon-divergent

Summary: Lila asks Ominis for his assistance and a meeting for the Headless Hunt proves most illuminating for Richard.

Lila had been dreading the day when she would have to put forth all the information herself and Sebastian had gathered to Ominis—he'd likely be furious that the pair had been keeping secrets from him once again. That day had unfortunately finally arrived. Ominis' help was integral to her plan and, as such, the conversation could not be avoided. With a great deal of reluctance, she'd decided to use one of their free periods to discuss the matter, luring Ominis away from a midday nap to the comfort of the common area with the promise of tea. "There had better be biscuits," he grumbled, stifling a yawn. Lila led them both to a pair of cosy armchairs near the window, all of her energy being directed into stilling her arm that desperately wanted to shake under Ominis' grip. The importance of this conversation couldn't be understated—she was terrified. As the pair sat down and Lila set about conjuring their refreshments, Ominis wasted no time in proving just how astute he was. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?" he asked, crossing his legs and wisting patiently for his tea.

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Series tags: explicit | smut | pining | voyeurism | masturbation | sex | angst | death

Summary: Richard confesses his happening upon Lila's private moment and Sebastian admits his feelings for her.

As her eyes returned to the blond sitting next to her, Lila noticed the heads turned in her direction. Sometimes, they’d be tracking Sebastian, or occasionally Ominis—both of them were worthy of glances and gossip, but this time the eyes were most definitely trained on her . She'd not had this much attention since fifth year. Not again. She'd noticed people watching her more lately, especially with Richard—it was hard to ignore some of the outright stares—but this was the first time she'd heard the whispers. She'd only told three people of her relationship with Richard, yet she felt as if everyone in the clocktower knew. Lila listened to a group of girls sitting behind them whilst Ominis and Sebastian chatted, their voices lower and barely distinguishable. "That's her. Ghost girl," someone whispered, followed by a round of sniggers. Oh, how original.

[cuffmeinblack]

Veil

Richard Jackdaw x f!MC (Lila Kirke)

Chapter 2: The Others

Series tags: explicit | smut | pining | voyeurism | masturbation | sex | angst | death

Summary: Richard and Lila grow closer still as Christmas approaches. Lila arranges a surprise for Richard as the guilt over his affection grows.

Lila nodded, turning to leave but hesitating before even taking a step. "Richard?" she asked quietly, facing him once more. "Yes, my dear?" "Can I visit you later? When I return?" "I'd like nothing more." He watched her face light up before she left, her delicate figure disappearing out of the entranceway and into the grounds. Shaking his head, he flew through the hefty stone wall towards the lone tower— his tower. The idea that Lila would return his affections was laughable, yet there had been an undeniable spark that had threatened to ignite between them. The rippling tension certainly hadn't seemed one-sided, and as much as he disliked her Slytherin friend, she certainly did not look at Sebastian as she had Richard. Nor anyone else, for that matter. The thought should have filled his cold, dead heart with joy, instead he was left with a deep remorse.