Request: @selldraug I miss Vane (I know that’s not a secret). So if you want and have time, could you write VanexReader where she’s Max’s sister (or best friend, whichever you like the most) and she breaks things off with him after what The Ranger is doing, but he then does all in his power for her to forgive him because he truly, truly loves her? ILY ♥
For you beautiful!! Hope it’s alright. xx
Go ahead and add yourself to my taglist over here….TAGLIST
“I don’t think he understands the meaning of breaking up”
Max was laughing as she reclined on your bed with very little clothing on and a
massive smile on her face. She was dangling the newest necklace that had been
delivered to your room between two fingers, examining the somewhat luminous
quality of the gems in the setting.
“This is not funny anymore” crossing your arms over your
chest you smacked at her legs forcing her to make room for you to sit on the
end of the bed. “I broke up with him for a reason and that reason hasn’t
changed or gone away”
“But look how pretty this is”
“Max” you snatched the necklace out of her grasp so she had
no choice but to look at you. “You’re meant to be my sister; will you please
stop eyeballing the necklace and come up with something useful”
She pushed herself up onto her elbows. “I don’t know what
you want me to say ma petite, he won’t change you know that. If you can’t
accept who he is now then you must be more forceful. Tell him that and insist
he keeps to it”
She was right, you knew that. Going over to your dresser you
opened the small jewellery box putting the last of the piling up trinkets that
Vane had been giving you into the box. You never wore them, didn’t dare to.
That didn’t stop you occasionally opening the box and staring at them though,
admiring the many shiny stones.
“I know Max” when you finally managed to drag your eyes away
from the sparkly baubles once more Max had moved to the edge of the bed,
rearranging the draping of her limited clothing to cover as much as she could. “I’ll
“Whatever you want ma petite” she agreed with a smile coming
over to wrap her arms around your neck hugging you tight. “you know that
whatever you decide I’m going to be there for you”
“I feel like there’s a but to that sentence”
“There is” taking your face in her hands she stared at you
seriously. “I know you don’t agree with what he does, that you taking a stand
against it is of course morally correct, but that man loves you Y/N and you
shouldn’t just throw love like that away”
“He loves me?”
“In the only way he knows how”
From downstairs someone shouted Max’s name loudly she was
wanted back at the Avery. She gave you a quick kiss on each cheek before
leaving. You watched her go your mind just going in circles.
You had ended your relationship with Vane some months before
because you couldn’t agree with what he was doing on the Ranger. Obviously you’d
known he was a pirate before your became involved with him but it seemed
recently that the Ranger had done nothing but amped up the violence and severity
of their attacks.
Of course this was Charles Vane you were talking about and
he couldn’t just accept your decision to end your relationship. Instead he’d
taken to leaving gifts for you in random places. Different pieces of Jewellery,
little hand held mirrors and even a fancy silk dress that you didn’t want to
even think about where he’d gotten it from. You had to put an end to it though,
had to stop this.
You’d gotten down to the beach in record time, maybe because
you’d wanted it to take longer. You didn’t bother asking anyone if Vane was in
his tent, they all knew who you were which also meant they knew better than to
try and stop you. There were some perks to still being known as Vane’s woman.
“Charles?” you pushed open the tent finding him sat cross
legged on the floor with a cigar in his mouth sorting through a pile of papers.
“Y/N? To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“I’m bringing these back to you” from your purse you opened
the draw string top and poured out the pile of things that Vane had given to
you. “You have to stop bringing me these Vane”
Raising one eyebrow he took a long drag from the cigar “why
“Because we don’t have a relationship anymore” you
euniciated each word carefully so he had no choice but to hear them. “we are
nothing to each other anymore, and you can’t give me these things anymore”
“They’re mine to give to whomever I please”
“I highly doubt they’re yours” you mocked as Vane picked up
the small pieces of jewellery from where you’d tipped them onto the bed.
“Actually they are” he held up the small tarnished broach
from the pile. “this is the only thing I’ve gotten from my mother. One of the
other slaves hid it and passed it onto me when I’d grown up enough to hide it”
Your stomach cramped at that. He’d given you the only token
of his mother that he had and you’d just thrown it back in his face. Maybe Max
was right, maybe he really did love you.
“Vane? Why didn’t you tell me that?”
“Didn’t seem important” he got up to his feet making the
tent feel tiny as he loomed over you. He took your chin in his fingers turning
your face up to meet his own eyes. “and this relationship isn’t over”
“Really darling” he leant down and kissed you roughly
dragging your body into his own. “I’ve let you think it was for long enough”
“Why did you give me that broach?” when he didn’t answer you
you bit your lip “Please Charles, I need to hear you say it”
“One time only” he agreed voice rough.
“I gave you the broach because… because I love you”
Your heart soared at those words. Even if he never said them
again it would be enough. Enough to know that he did that was it turned out all
you’d ever wanted.
“I love you too” still wrapped in his arms you glanced down
at the pile of jewellery still on the bed “so what about the other pieces?”
A quick smirk took up residence on his face. “I’m a pirate love”
Requested by Anon: “First off I want to say how amazing your blog is!!!! I’ve been looking for stuff like this since the end of Black Sails! I was wondering if you could write an imagine where the reader brings Vane back from the dead (Kinda like Calypso & Barbosa In POTC) and Vane ends up falling for the reader. Thanks !!” + “Vane is Made Pirate King of Nassau and makes reader his Queen”
A/N: I thought I’d mix these two requests since I received them seven minutes apart and I had the feeling you were the same person who maybe forgot to add that second part + I apologize for any mistakes too. Also @selldraug would like to say “And Claudia said: bitch stop, you’re gonna write a book” and I might. I MIGHT, because I’m just so in love with this request haha (part 2 might contain some smut because when Claudia requests I obey)
Fandom: Black Sails. Pairing: Charles Vane x Reader
Warnings: what if in which Vane is still alive. Nothing else I think ?
Charles felt uncomfortable. Something hard was behind his back – or beneath it: he wasn’t quite sure which of the two options was correct.
He clearly remembered dying, or at least standing on the gibbet. The Englishmen had hung him in front of the people that had once been his comrades or his enemies in the search for power and treasures that had led his – and still led theirs – life. He remembered saying something to them, something along the lines of ‘just kick their fat asses after I’m gone’, but he couldn’t quite grasp the exact words he had used.
His skin prickled. His neck hurt as if that damn rope were still around it, blocking the air from reaching his lungs.
Then it hit him. A strange smell of smoke. It wasn’t quite the smoke of cigars, or of bonfires, to which he had once been used to – it was sweeter, almost heavier, but smoke nevertheless. It felt like it was cuddling him, lulling him to sleep.
He had never believed in religion, in the distinction between Heaven and Hell, in the fight between God and the Devil, Good and Evil. He had never been quite a good person either – he had killed, kidnapped, robbed, hurt. He had been petty and violent. He had been enslaved, but he had eventually redeemed himself.
God had never been there for him – all his life he had believed only in himself, in his fellows and in his enemies, even. He’d send Him to hell if only he could.
That’s why he didn’t think he had ended up in Heaven.
Heaven would be too good for someone like him. He’d feel too much at peace there – Heaven was not a place for someone like Captain Charles Vane, restless, needing people, rum, gold, miles under his belt and under his Ranger.
He had probably fallen asleep, even though he had yet to open his eyes.
It was just too peaceful, laying or standing there like that – wherever he was. He didn’t even care if he was in a coffin six feet under or at the bottom of the sea. He felt like he had earned some sleep, some rest. Because let’s admit it: being a pirate and a captain is not an easy thing. You always had to watch your back, to grant the crew what they needed (which almost always was gold to buy rum or to bang a whore). You had to plan the assaults, to keep away from His Highness’s ships and bounty hunters, for you almost always had a bag of silver hanging above your head and a whole bunch of bigots who wanted you dead.
And he had died, to their utter joy.
They got rid of Charles Vane and they were now free from that terror.
Or at least that’s what they might have been thinking, Charles told himself.
Days had passed. Maybe centuries. Charles didn’t even know – time felt like it was flowing terribly slowly, it felt dilated, heavy. He didn’t know and he didn’t even care. He felt like it didn’t matter. And if this was eternity… well, he’d have to put up with it.
Then, suddenly, almost unexpectedly, his eyes fluttered open on their own accord.
For a moment the bright light blinded him and he squinted his eyes.
Now that he was wide awake he could feel something under his back, something soft, not hard as he had perceived it before. Peeking from under his lashes he saw the hem of a brown blanket covering him, rising and falling with each breath he took.
Did he just come back from the dead?
It was a silly thought, but a hope nevertheless. He wasn’t done with life. Heck, he’d never be done with the sea – it was still out there, somewhere, waiting for him, calling him like a siren, needing him to sail it again.
And maybe God – that God in which he had never believed before, that God who had always been against him – was the only one to actually know how much he still needed it – the sea, the sand, the rum, a ship under his feet. He still needed the world and whatever it had to offer. And he’d always be there to catch its gifts.
A low hum distracted him and he immediately closed his eyes shut, slowing his breath down, pretending to be asleep.
He felt someone entering the room, shuffling things around, humming an old tune he had already heard somewhere in his past – or maybe it was just an impression since he couldn’t remember the moment or the person who had once hummed it.
“My God, Charles Vane,” a woman’s voice huffed. “If only had I known you’d take so long to wake up from the dead, I would’ve never brought you back.”
Then he felt the mattress underneath his body lowering, something warm – probably her body – sitting just millimeters from his left leg.
“I had heard you were a good company,” she went on and Charles heard the noise of moving water. “But I must be honest with you: you’re actually not.” She moved a little in her spot: what Charles thought was her thigh got closer to his own and he thought she had turned to look at him.
Him? Not a good company? Who the heck was this girl?
“I mean, I know that coming back from death is no walk in the park, but come on!” She got closer and pushed his thigh a little. He felt the blanket being lifted from him and the hot air in the room hit his chest like a slap. “I know I shouldn’t because let me tell you – you have a great body,” she spoke again and something wet started to clean his chest. “Scarred and all, but a great body indeed,” the woman added. “But, you know, I’m tired of cleaning you up. I can’t even get it – you’re always sweating.”
Charles tried not to frown – who the hell was she? What did she want? The urge to shut her up was so strong he literally had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from opening that damn mouth he had.
He let her wash his chest and when he felt her movements go lower, he opened his eyes.
He only had a couple of seconds to take in her Y/H/C hair before he grabbed her left wrist in a swift movement.
She jumped in surprise and the cloth she was using to wash him fell on his abdomen. She struggled to get free and ended up knocking his groin with her elbow. The grasp on her wrist disappeared all at once as Charles closed his legs and eyes, cursing under his breath.
Y/N jumped on her feet. Before he knew it Charles Vane had a gun pointing at his head.
“Don’t move or I’ll send you back where I took you from,” she growled, but he could see the fear in her eyes, hear it in her voice.
Charles got up on an elbow, one hand still on his groin. Damn, he didn’t come back from the dead to be kicked where the sun doesn’t shine, he thought. Or at least he hoped. “Who the hell are you?”
“Well, no ’thank you’?” she pouted, gun still aiming at him.
“Thank you,” he mocked her, sitting up. His eyes hurt like hell and they were so sensitive that they were watering.
“I’m Y/N,” she answered. “And close your eyes, they’ve not recovered completely yet,” she added, throwing him a dark bandage and lowering the gun.
She stared at him for a minute or so before reaching the bed again. Charles recoiled a little, scared he might get hit again, and dragged the blankets with him. Y/N simply bent down to grab the washbowl full of water but didn’t dare to retrieve the cloth she used with him.
The young woman reached the doorway and moved the curtain she used as a door. She had already taken a step forward when she stilled for a second. She turned to face Charles Vane and smiled. “Sleep now, you need to rest.”
A week had passed by quickly.
Charles had already started to go outside, even though Y/N always tried to stop him. He had just come back from the afterlife – the whole ritual had exhausted her and she couldn’t even start to guess how weak he had to feel – but he needed to go back to the world.
She almost liked him better unconscious. Those first three weeks had passed slowly, but at least he had been silent. Now he had turned out to be a huge pain in the ass. He whined about everything, had her to sleep on the uncomfortable couch she had in what could’ve been called a living room, and did absolutely nothing to help her out.
Charles sat by the sea, not knowing where he was. She told him they were still on New Providence Island, but in which fucking part? He was fuming: he had to go back. Go back and check on the Englishmen. Help out those who wanted them dead. Kill Eleanor himself.
“Make yourself useful,” Y/N’s voice grunted and a second later two big fish brushed against his head while falling.
He turned around and grabbed her by her ankle, stopping her from stomping away. “Who do you think I am?”
“I brought you back, Charles,” she growled, freeing her foot. “Show more gratitude or I’ll send you back. People like you cast me out. I helped you because I thought you could change the things on this stupid island,” and she knelt down in front of him, eyes burning, rage furiously flowing with her blood in her veins. “You’d better show me you deserved being saved because I’m no lady and I can be your worst nightmare.”
And with those words, she left.
“I’ve been a dick,” Charles said out of nowhere that evening, while the two were having dinner.
The fish he had cleaned was delicious and Y/N would’ve loved to have more of it, but that frigging pirate was starving and she had to cede part of her food. And she understood it, really – being dead and coming back, remaining unconscious for weeks and drinking somehow only fish soup didn’t sound like easy things, but…
She sighed. “Yes.”
“I’d like to apologize,” he continued, pouring more water into his wooden glass.
“You better,” she mumbled before standing up. She took his dish and hers and reached the sink in the adjoined little kitchen.
“Sleep in your bed tonight.”
She turned towards him and frowned. Was he kidding? Or did he really mean it? “You don’t fit on the couch,” she pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Was he going to sleep on the floor? She’d laugh: Captain Charles Vane sleeping on the ground just so that she could have her bed back. She shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t worry about me. Just think about your health: the sooner you recover, the sooner I kick you out of my house.”
They slept together that night. It wasn’t romantic, it wasn’t for sex – they just laid in Y/N’s bed, side by side, and they both fought to fall asleep.
They talked for a while – she told him how she had found his corpse a few feet from her door, that she had no idea who could have brought him there. She didn’t exactly tell him how she brought him back – and sure as hell all she wanted was to forget the things she had done to reach her target – but she explained how she had taken care of him before he woke up.
He let her talk and kept his gaze fixed on her face only because he knew she had her eyes closed. He like the sound of her voice, it always calmed him somehow. And when her voice did its magic he always realized how he had needed it without even knowing.
Her skin was pale, even though the sun burnt New Providence and everyone and everything on the island. She had the skin of a lady, one of those you could find in a big city, with a nice house, a rich husband and kids she didn’t have to look after.
He brushed his hand against her arm, but she gave no sign of feeling his touch.
“Why did you take me back? Why did you think I was worthy of it?” he suddenly asked, voice tired.
She managed to shrug her shoulders even if she was laying. “You were strong, determined. No one even dared to stop you, everyone feared you. But you cared for your people and followed your heart, doing what you thought was the right thing to do,” she answered and turned her head in his direction, eyes wide open. “I thought… maybe you were the right person to free Nassau, to bring order.” She snickered while adding: “To get rid of those Guthries.”
They both laid in silence for a while, him staring at the ceiling and her staring at his profile.
“And because you were a slave and freed yourself,” she whispered. “I wish I had your same strength back in the days.”
He frowned and tried to ask her what she meant, but she yawned and snuggled into the cushions.
Before he knew it, she was sound asleep. In the dim light of the candle still burning on her bedside table, he saw a pale long scar on her right cheek.
A month had passed since his resurrection, but Charles couldn’t accept the idea of leaving Y/N and the peace of the place where she lived.
It was quiet, no one ever came. Isolated God knows where her cottage was small but comfortable. A vegetable garden was the first thing that would welcome you when you reached her house. Tomatoes tanned under the sun, herbs scented the air, flowers shone like stars.
Charles had never thought of having a house, or a wife. For a long, long time his house had been the Ranger, his wife – the sea. His crew had been like an extended family – they were the only people he’d ever need, the only people he had trusted, the only people he had wanted by his side.
But now… with each day he felt himself falling harder for the young woman who had resurrected him. He almost felt the need to stay with her, to even just stare at her while she did whatever she did every day. He smelled the sea on her skin and that salty water – which he had loved all his life – smelled differently, it changed her scent and she changed its.
He had never been the romantic guy some women wanted. He was rough, he was vulgar at times, he was more like the raging sea than a man. But with her by his side, with peace filling his days, with nothing to worry about… a thought flashed in his mind, almost like a wish, like a hope: he could stay here forever. He could go to sea and come back to her, and in those days in which he’d remain home he could smell the scent of the unknown on her skin, see distant places in her eyes, hear in her voice the sound the wind makes when it caresses the sails.
“What are you staring at?” she asked, smiling, and sat next to him on the shore.
She was bare feet and wore blue cotton trousers and one of the shirts she had given him.
“You,” he blurted out before he could stop his tongue.
Her cheeks turned red, but he wasn’t quite sure whether it was because of the hot sun or because of his words.
He caught himself thinking how cute she was, with red cheeks and light freckles dotting the skin of her face.
She averted her gaze and turned towards the sea.
Waves were washing the shore and the sun looked like fire on the water. Seagulls were flying and screaming above their heads.
“Was it hard?” he asked, hoping to get her to talk.
“Bringing me back.”
She looked at him and smiled, then shrugged her shoulders. “No,” she answered, but Charles knew she was lying.
“What’s that scar on your face?”
“The past,” Y/N sighed. “And the past stays in the past,” she added. “You’ve quite recovered.”
She looked sad while she stared at him. The wind was blowing from the sea against her face and her hair flew behind her in a Y/H/C mess.
He nodded and this once he was the one to stare at the sea. “Do you want me gone?”
Y/N sighed. “No, I’m not sure. I’ve been alone for years and it’s good to finally have someone to talk to, even if that someone’s just got back from the dead.”
“I like it here,” he confessed, wrists resting on his knees. “With you.”
She smiled and threw some sand in his direction.
“But I have to go back to Nassau,” he added, turning to face her.
She sat still for a moment and he saw her swallowing hard. Then she nodded.
“And I want you to come with me. I’ll need your help to take the port.”
→ Request:@ly–canthrope said:
Ah.Profile says that they are closed,that’s all x Sorry but another vane x reader. Being a literate female and like how Flint gathers books for Ms Barlow, Vane does the same. Though he may not be as sweet about it like Flint it, you can still see that he cares deeply about you. And Jack questions what his motives are so as a response, when everyone is gathered in a central place like the Tavern, you both walk in but you have his coat over your shoulders or something to signify you are his woman?
→ A/N: What do you mean Charles Vane ain’t a soft man.
Warnings: Violence, threats of Violence, Swearing… PG13 Smut.
Maybe a Charles Vane x Pirate!Reader where they are together and the reader gets captured and beaten and Vane saves her and it’s just fluffy and just filled with pissed and protective Vane? Thanks a bunch, Wolfling 🐺❄️
AN: @native-snowflake I changed up this request a little but i think the main idea is pretty much the same. I hope you enjoy.
Please add yourself to my Taglist if you’d like to here….. TAGLIST
You hated the nights when you were forced to actually work
behind the bar of the Avery. Drunken Pirates were not your favourite thing to
deal with. Serving them was even less fun, yet here you were sliding and
pushing through sweaty bodies as you deposited tankard after tankard of ale
down on the tables.
Most of the men were used to you and simply smiled at you
making jokes and as more rum was consumed giving you a friendly smack to the
rear. All of which you could have dealt with, what was making you uneasy was
the table in the back corner where a group of men sat quietly. Quiet in this
environment was not a good sign, men who were quiet were planning something and
with pirates planning never ended well for someone. You did not want that
person to be you.
Grabbing a new tray and piling it with rum bottles and a few
empty tankards, you unwillingly made your way over with their orders. Trying to
be as unobtrusive as possible you placed the rum on the table and the tankards
next to them. You thought you’d been successful until the darkest skinned one
grabbed your wrist holding you in place so you couldn’t pass.
“You’re a quiet lass” he turned dark eyes on you “by chance
one with good hearing?”
It took you a moment to realise that he thought you’d been
trying to spy on him. You had been so busy trying to avoid them you hadn’t
thought about what your silence would portray.
“I’m a bar maid, not a spy” you answered carefully, not
tugging your wrist but remaining very still. A cornered piece of prey not
willing to anger the predator that had its jaws around your neck.
“And a woman can never be two things at once?” he sneered
fingers tightening as he pulled you a step forwards.
You were used to slapping away drunk hands and overly
friendly advances. This was different though. This man wasn’t drunk but did
actually want to hurt you.
“I’m sure they can. I however am not. I serve rum and make
enough coin to buy a bed at night. That’s it”
He smiled revealing two gold teeth “A bed hey lass? May be
that we can finish this conversation there be a trifle more pleasurable for us
Your stomach flipped, that was not in the slightest thing
what you’d wanted to hear and you had no idea how to get out of this. You
finally resorted to pulling at his hold on you, which had little to no impact
on him whatsoever, in fact only seemed to excite the pirate even more than he
already had been.
“Y/N?” the gravelly voice behind you had never been so
“Vane!” Even though the hand didn’t move from your wrist and
another person’s came down onto your shoulder you suddenly felt safer, a whole
lot safer. “I didn’t realised you were back”
“Good job I am” he said yanking backwards so the grip on your
wrist was finally broken. He pushed you behind him leaning down to your
tormentor’s eye level. “Touch the girl again and lose your cock, understand
“And what is it to you Vane?” the man sneered although you
could see the tick in his eye. He was putting on a brave face in front of the others
at his table. Everyone knew who Charles Vane was and the sudden smile on his
face would have made the bravest of men piss themselves. This Rielly wasn’t
that brave and was backing away from Vane.
“Let me put it another way.” He took in every man at the
table this time in his dead mans stare “the next man who even looks at her will
be getting incredibly well acquainted with my sword” he stood back up patting
the sword on his hip “and we enjoy meeting new people”
Suddenly no one would meet his eyes and were looking very
busy again. Charles turned around steering you back to the bar with a tight
grip on your shoulders.
“You can let go of me Vane” you hissed wriggling, however
his grip remained as he shoved you up the stairs and pushed you roughly into your
You stumbled into the room rubbing at your wrist as you
turned to glare at the man in the doorway.
“Really Vane” you snapped turning to anger to cover your
uncomfortableness. “You don’t have to be so rough”
The pirate just stared at you “rough?” he questionnned
slamming the door behind him. “You think I’m being fucking rough with you?”
“I don’t see anyone else pushing me around”
Vane nodded almost like he was agreeing with you before
storming forward backing you into the desk and slamming his hands down on
either side of you.
“Maybe we should go back out there and remind you of that
“I would have handled it” you insisted even though you’d got
no idea how you could have delat with it “I’d have thought of something. I
Charles was muttering to himself in disbelief as he shook
his head at you. “Reilly’s dangerous Y/N”
“He didn’t act it towards you”
“Well they don’t do they? I have a reputation. Well earnt”
That you knew was true what you weren’t so clear on still
was why exactly he was helping you. That he was fond of you you didn’t doubt,
after all you provided rum and discounted rum at that. You hadn’t realised he’d
go as far as actively protecting you from others though. It made you curious
what he wanted. After all, nothing in this place was given freely.
“So what you’re just going to stand there and lecture me
now? You think I don’t realise how dangerous they all are down there” you were
staring straight back at him “how dangerous you are?”
“Sometimes I don’t think you do realise” he growled out, not
backing away from you. In fact his hands left the desk to clamp onto your hips
lifting as he sat you in the desk pushing his way between your thighs.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing Vane?” you pushed
at his chest but it was about as effective as pushing at a stone statue. He wasn’t
“Teaching you a lesson”
With that his lips slammed down on your own taking your
breath away as his hand came up to tangle in your hair yanking your head back
to give him a better angle at your mouth.
Sure you’d thought about what it would be like to be with
Vane, he was too gorgeous for your bored mind not to have wandered there at
some points. You’d never actually thought that it would get any further than
You wriggled closer to him pressing your chest against his
own as his arm wrapped around your back holding you still.
“Y/N?” the door to your office burst open once more and
Eleanor stood there swearing in horror when she saw Vane.
“Fuck off Eleanor” he growled turning his head only slightly
to glare at her but not letting go of you. “She’s busy”
“I can see that” Eleanor was looking at you concerned. “Rielly
he was bothering you?”
“It was handled” you didn’t elaborate on how, Eleanor would
have heard what Charles did from the other pirates downstairs.
“He’ll be barred for his behaviour” she was still studiously
avoiding looking at Vane. “I won’t have my employees being harassed”
“Thank you” she nodded once and then with a poisonous glance
at Vane disappeared once more. Leaving you still sat there with Vane between
your legs. “I’m not fucking you on this desk Vane, not when she’ll still be
stood out there listening”
“Figured as much” he grouched. He didn’t move but also didn’t
try anything again hand instead splaying out to rest on your back. “Don’t just
want a fuck off you anyhow”
He sighed hand coming up to brush your hair out of your
face, the gesture was surprisingly tender for such a rough man. “Coming in here
tonight, seeing that fucker with his hands on you. Never been that angry before
“Made me realise something” he continued eyes meeting your
own. “Don’t want any other man touching you but me”
Your eyes widened in shock at that, you hadn’t thought Vane
had it in him to be possessive of a woman. Sure you knew he’d had a fling with
Eleanor the whole town did but you didn’t think he’d ever been serious about
it. Not to a point where he wanted exclusivity.
“You going to come back down to the beach with me?”
You knew the question was loaded, knew that he was asking
for more than one night. If you took the hand he was offering to you right now
then you were accepting everything that came with the idea of being Vane’s
“On one condition”
“And what would that be love?”
“Don’t want any other woman touching you but me” you
mirrored his words from earlier.
“Deal” he said softly making him smirk and you suddenly felt
like you’d just made a deal with the devil.
It was too late to back out now though because his lips came
back to your own kissing you roughly as he pulled you off the desk and
practically carried you from the Avery and back to the beach.
✎ Requested by @thesavagesones: A request where Charles and y/n are a pirate power couple with 2 kids and one day he saw her fighting with a captain that others used to fear and he becomes even more enchanted by his wife? I always imagined that he would be such a badass dad, like the kids would take no shit from no one and would be like mini versions of him even if he has a girl 😍😍 I forgot to had that the pirate is that psycho who threaten Eleanor and vane killed him, that storyline would be so awesome and the pirate would threat vane with his kids and his wife would take no shit from him, man I am so excited for your writing!
✎ A/N: I’m so, so, so sorry it took me so long to write this, somehow I kept getting stuck, and I’m also sorry that this is so frigging short. I was so excited to write this, but somehow it looks off and it turned out the most difficult thing I’ve ever written (yes, more difficult than the crazy shit from Horns, which is crazy, right? hahaha) Daddy Vane was such a good idea and I hope I haven’t ruined it… I promise I’ll make it up, Ana, and maybe one day I’ll write a part 2 or I’ll completely re-write this! Sorry x
✎ Fandom: Black Sails. Pairing: Charles Vane x Reader
✎ Warnings: Dad!Vane? Liiiight mentions of sexual things. Maybe one bad word.
“Shouldn’t we check on the kids?” Y/N asked, turning around in the bed and not caring to cover her naked body with the bedsheets.
Charles brushed his fingers on her hand, climbing up her arm until he rested his hand on her neck. He nuzzled closer, smiling like a kid and still smelling like the cigar he had just finished smoking. “They’re on the Ranger with Jack. They’re okay, I’m pretty sure of this. And Anne Bonny is checking on Jack, so they’re even safer,” he answered back, gently pulling her closer to him. “Stop worrying, Y/N – nothing bad’s gonna happen to them,” he reassured her before leaning in for a kiss.
She tried to kiss him back, but her mind continued to work furiously. She didn’t like it when their kids weren’t with her or him or both of them. She knew Charles’s reputation and the enemies he had, as well as she knew her own reputation and the enemies she had. Even the little things could be used to threaten them – and the two boys and the little girl they had were not that little. They were a major source of concern when it came to someone threatening to threaten them. And she couldn’t stand the idea of staying there, making love to her husband, when those children were out there, in a grown-ups’ world full of threats. It didn’t matter that Rackham was with them, or that Anne was with them, or even that both their crews were present: her mind hurt and her heart clenched at the thought of something bad happening to their children.
She pushed away, her hands leaning against his firm and toned chest.
“I’m sorry,” she sighed. “I’m just worried, I have a bad feeling.”
“The only bad feeling you’re gonna have will be dealing with the idea that I could be making love to you but I’m not.”
“It’s our kids we’re talking about, Charles,” she whined, rubbing her eyes.
His arms grabbed her waist as he rolled on his back, pulling her with himself until she was on top of him. “I know,” he hummed, brushing her messy hair. “That’s why I left Jack with them. The whole crew is there! They’re in the safest place they could ever be, love. Stop worrying about them and start tending to me.”
She burst out laughing. “Tending to you? You’re neither sick nor injured.”
Charles groaned. “I know, but my dick hurts.”
Y/N stared at him for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. “Your dick hurts,” she repeated, nodding, pushing herself up to sit on his lap. “And what makes you think I want to fix your problem?”
He looked at her for a while, confused, his lips parted and his mind fogging. “Because you’re my wife? Or because you want other kids?”
“Gosh, Charles, no!” she exclaimed, slapping his chest jokingly. “Three of them are already enough. More than enough when a set of twins wasn’t exactly called for.”
He laughed a little, his hands crawling up her sides and brushing lightly at the sides of her breasts. “I’d have a thousand kids.”
“I’m not,” he shrugged his shoulders, pushing himself up into a sitting position, his erection painfully pressing against her abdomen. “Because that means fucking you every minute of every day.”
“You’re a nymphomaniac,” she laughed.
Charles didn’t answer. He simply kissed her neck, making her moan, his thumbs rubbing her nipples, her breath fanning his cheek and ear. “You’re not a saint either, pet” he reminded her.
Y/N got out of the brothel sore, her skin still tingling where his rough hands had touched and bruised her. He hadn’t been sweet and she was now the one needing to be tended to, but she was so happy that she didn’t mind.
When she reached the beach and the kids saw her, they sprinted off in her direction while Jack yelled for them to go back for he hadn’t finished telling his story. Before the girl jumped at her neck and the boys started to bombard her with questions and tales of what they had been doing, she saw Anne Bonny laughing at Jack’s red face and smiled.
“Honey!” she exclaimed, taking the little girl in her arms and hugging her back. “Did you guys have fun?”
Richard snickered, hiding his laughs behind his hands. Patrick spoke up, pushing his twin’s shoulder. “Ana punched one of daddy’s guys,” he confessed, glaring at his little sister.
Y/N giggled, freeing the girl’s face from her dark hair. “Is it true, Ana?”
The girl nodded, face hidden in the crook of her neck, but didn’t utter a word.
“Where’s dad?” Rick asked, rocking back on his heels and poking at his brother’s arm.
“Taking care of his business.” Y/N put Ana back on the ground and grabbed her hand. “Why don’t we go back to Jack?”
The boys sprinted off towards the man still waiting for them while Ana huffed. “He’s boring when he tells his stuff.”
Her mother laughed but reached her sons anyway.
Jack had just left to get some rum because the kids had been giving him a headache when Captain Edward Low put the man’s absence to use. He neared Y/N and stood right in front of her.
She glared at him and scolded. “You’re in my light,” she pointed out.
“Oh, Lord, this sure as hell is a big problem, isn’t it?” he mocked her, glaring at her kids. “And what are these beautiful children doing?” he wondered, lowering down but not kneeling on the ground.
The boys moved in front of their sister, knowing who that guy was and what their father had told them about him.
“Wouldn’t it be a pity if someone hurt them?” Low went on.
“Just when I thought you couldn’t go lower…” Y/N shook her head, her hand grabbing a hold of the gun hanging from her belt. “What the fuck do you want?”
“What’s mine,” he answered, reaching out to touch Patrick’s hair.
“And what exactly is yours, Low?” she growled.
The man didn’t get a chance at answering: Ana had leaned forward in a swift movement and had bit his hand. Low’s blood was trickling down onto the golden sand and the pirate hissed in pain.
“Well, isn’t she her father’s daughter?” he muttered, backing a little when Y/N stood up threateningly. “Both are venomous snakes.”
“You’d better leave, Low, before I let her bite a lot lower,” Y/N growled, stepping in front of her children. With the corner of her left eye, she saw Jack coming towards them, an angry expression marking his face.
“This is not over, Vane,” Low warned, his left hand holding tightly his right one. “You’d better tell your husband.”
That very night Edward Low wasn’t a problem anymore. As everybody in Nassau stared in shock at Low’s head pierced on a pike, a sign reading ‘I angered Charles Vane’ right below it, Charles couldn’t help but feel proud of himself.
Heck, he was even proud of that biting machine that went under the name of Ana Vane! It was a challenge to make her stay calm, but eventually, her talent had come to good use.
No one touched his wife or his kids. And if anything, he had taught his little girl that family was sacred and that you have to bite to keep the people you love safe. Of course, he had never meant it literally, but he wasn’t going to complain.
When the kids arrived running, his wife hurried to push them back, calling for one of her men to help her. Charles watched her talk with the man for a few minutes, then the pirate called for other men and together they brought the kids to his wife’s ship.
He approached her as soon as she was left alone, far from the crowd gathered around the head he had decapitated.
“Why did you do it?” she asked, still staring at the sea and at the launches approaching her Revenge.
Charles hugged her from behind, pulling her closer to shield both of them from the breeze. “No one threatens what’s mine,” he simply answered.
“It was uncalled for,” she bit back, turning around to look at him, and she hugged his waist. “And Ana had already bit his hand to the bone,” she laughed. “I thought we should put a muzzle on her, but now I actually enjoy the idea of her going around biting people’s balls off.”
Charles burst out laughing.
“But we should punish her anyway. That’s not the way a lady acts.”
“I’m never gonna punish her for biting that dick,” he answered. “And how, your grace, would a lady act?”
“With poison,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “A little poison in his rum and no one sees nothing.”
Charles frowned. “I’d better never anger you, then.”
“Or our daughter,” his wife giggled. “The same one that has you wrapped around her finger,” she added, running away towards the sea and laughing.
She was so not gonna go away with it that night, he thought, chasing her to bring her on the Ranger.
Taking requests for Vane? Sign me up! ❤❤ this is partially inspired by yours (and a scene from a Narnia movie…) reader is a Virgin that was captured and is being sold at an auction. Vane for whatever reason bids and wins (or watches then kills the winner…) either way…
You’d lost track of the days since it had happened. You hadn’t
even realised that slavers still existed in the islands. They obviously did
though because you had a large metal circlet locked around your neck and
equally heavy manacles on your wrists and legs. The manacles were starting to
rub the skin raw underneath them and your back was still smarting from the
lashing you’d received a few days past.
The only other girl from your village to have survived this
long had been starving, she wouldn’t last much longer and you’d tried to give
her the only mouldy crust of bread they’d given you. Of course sharing wasn’t
allowed. Especially not when it was in their eyes wasted on a slave who was
You’d been dragged from the cramped brig and tied to the
mast post above, they’d given you 10 lashes for the crime of trying to help
another human being, and your act of kindness. Well it had achieved nothing but
pain and an empty stomach for you and the girl had died anyhow only the next
The ship had stopped at first light this morning and you’d
heard the sailors shouting and laughing as they’d thrown the anchor down. They had
been back and forth all morning, although it was hard to count the passage of
hours down at the bottom of the ship it was still possible through a crack in
the hull. A crack that let you see outside at the expensive of regularly being
soaked through with sea water.
“Get the trash up and out of my ship”
The voice of the captain made you shudder as the sailors
came tumbling down the stairs to the brig, they already reeked of rum and most
were half way to being drunk.
You and the others in the hold were hauled to your feet and
out into the sun. You hadn’t seen daylight for such a long time that the light
was hurting your eyes.
The other men from your village who had been in the brig
with you were surrounding you trying to keep you from most of the sailors
leering gazes and harsh words. Not that it was helping all that much, the men
were as weak as you were and all of you could barely stand upright on your own.
The group of you were herded to a boat and rode across to
land, you managed to blank out most of the rest of the trip to used to the
manhandling of the sailors.
You found yourself stood in the centre of a large town,
stood on a platform with the men and women of the town below staring up at you.
There was nothing you could do to detract from there stares as they raked eyes
up and down your basically naked body.
The captain of the ship appeared and grabbed the chain to
the manacle around your neck dragging you forwards to the front of the stage.
It took you a moment to keep up with their long words and
quick accents and figure out what was actually happening.
They were trying to sell you. A man stood away from the
group of slaves was reading off a checklist of your statistics, height, weight,
hair and eyes colour. You honestly didn’t know what to do, stuck in place
listening to them talk about you like you weren’t even there.
People were shouting again raising their hands and screaming
out numbers. They were bidding on you. Your stomach was churning as you watched
until finally no one was shouting anymore, no more bids.
A giant of a man was coming towards you. He was smiling
evilly eyes roaming over your body in a way that promised you weren’t going to
like what he was going to do to you.
“Me and you girly we’re going to have a lot of fun together”
There were tears starting to form in the corners of your
eyes as the captain of the ship handed over you chain to this man, he yanked
pulling you forwards down the steps of the stage and through the crowds out
into the town.
You’d barely got away from the crowd when he switched his
grip on the chain to your body pulling you close to him as he pressed his lower
body into your own.
“Lots and lots of fun”
Fully crying now you reacted on instinct pushing desperately
and punching with your hands as much as you could. You must have landed one
punch though because he swore loudly.
“You fucking bitch”
He punched you sending you down to the floor. He was moving
towards you one more when suddenly he stopped eyes going wide in shock as he
looked down at his chest. Sticking out of there was a sword. He gasped and fell
forwards, dead on the floor.
The man he had revealed behind him didn’t make you feel any
safer as he stared down at you a glint in his eyes that you had never seen
He took a step towards you and you couldn’t help but flinch.
The man stopped instantly.
“It’s alright darling, I ain’t going to hurt you” he held
his hands up as he crouched down in front of you. “You ain’t got nothing to
fear from me. What’s your name sweetheart?”
You watched him carefully, he was making you feel safe. You
didn’t know why because he certainly didn’t look safe but there was something
in the way he spoke.
“Y/N, my name is Y/N”
“Y/N” he reached out and carefully turned your face up to
the light so he could look at the split lip the man from before had just given
you. His eyes then going to the chains around your wrists, ankles and neck. “Come
with me Y/N. Let’s get them off”
He held his hand out getting back to his feet and almost
like it was a compulsion you placed your hand in his allowing him to help you
back up to your feet.
He led you through the streets to a large building near the
edge of town. Inside it was warm and a man was sat at a table smoking and
swearing as a woman opposite him said something quietly.
“Fuck off you two” your rescuer growled at them.
They turned instantly eyes raking up and down you, they
weren’t judging though you could see no pity and disgust in either of their
“Captain” the man said nodding and dragging the woman out of
“Captain?” you whispered.
He grunted “Vane, Charles Vane. Sit there love” he pointed
at the chair the woman had recently vacated. You did as he said not wanting to
upset him while Vane grabbed some things from a cupboard over at the side of
He came back over to you gently rotating the manacle around
your neck, he was being careful but your skin was so damaged underneath that
even the smallest movement was making you cringe.
“Fuck” he swore harshly “alright pet, stay still I’m gonna
get this off”
He took a tool out of the pile of things he’d brought with
him and you quickly closed your eyes not wanting to watch what he was going to
do. You felt pressure on the manacle a sharp bite of pain and then suddenly you
were free. The weight had gone and your skin was finally unshackled from the
Vane did the same thing to the manacles around your wrists
and ankles then sat back on his haunches staring at your face.
“They sure did a fucking number on you”
You were staring at the marks on your wrists. “Why are you
helping me?” you asked softly, almost scared of the answer he was going to give
you. “I don’t have any money to pay your, or anything of any value”
“I don’t want anything pet” he insisted. “I know what it’s
like to be a captive not of your own making, to have your free will taken away”
“You were a slave?” it seemed unthinkable that anyone would
be able to capture the strong man in front of you but he was nodding at your
“I was, a life time ago now”
“What happens now?” you asked him as you finally looked back
up into his bright blue eyes. “My home is gone, my family are dead and
everything I knew has been destroyed”
“One day at a time sweetheart” he said. “One step at a time.
There’s a bath upstairs we’ll fill it and you can get clean. Then we’ll talk
about what happens after that”
He got back to his feet obviously ready to go and get the
water for the bath he’d just promised you. Unthinking you reached out and
grabbed his hand. He stopped frozen looking down at you.
“Thank you” you whispered. “Just… thank you”
He grunted obviously uncomfortable with your thanks. He
simply went outside to get water.
You couldn’t believe what had just happened to you. You hadn’t
believed you had still gotten any luck left due to you, but apparently you had
because Captain Charles Vane had obviously been sent to save you and that was a
piece of luck you’d never have thought yourself worthy of.
(Send me requests with 1/1+ prompt/s. I write about a lot of fandoms and also a lot of different things : one shots/scenarios/imagines/headcanons/chats/conversations/aesthetics/alomst anything)
It is possible to customize the prompts for the requests.
161. I didn’t do it, but if I did, I was drunk.
162. We all have a favourite eyebrow!
163. Can I politely murder you?
164. I’ve met some pricks in my time, but you are the fucking cactus.
165. Don’t joke about murder, I was murdered once and it offends me.
166. I want world pace, but there’re people I want to kill first.
167.A (boy):I love you
B (girl): That’s your business
168. If we hate the same person we are already friends.
169. I don’t want to get involved in the drama, I just want to know 103% of the information on what happened.
170.A: I’m really into people with good hearts and kind intentions
B: You’re one little flower, aren’t you. Preapre to die.
171. Take a chill pill, your honor.
172. Has anyone’s crush ever worked out for them or is that a myth?
173. My life is way too much panic and not enough disco.
174. An apple a day keeps anyone away if you throw it hard enough.
175. Thank you for noticing the bags under my eyes, yes they are Gucci, no you may not touch them, I’ve insured them for 10,000$ each and will not have you ruining them with things like “concealer” and “sleep”.
176. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to mourn the passing of the last fuck I gave.
177. Wow! Okay! I know I said “Fuck me”, but that wasn’t an invitation, it was me being exasperated at the state of my life and existence.
178. Excuse me who invited you to this conversation? I’m sure as shit it wasn’t me!
179. You know, it’d be super cool of you to not be a total wad when I’m doing something nice for you.
180. Do I like him, or is he just tall?
181. I would follow you to the ends of the world with only mild complaining.
182. Do you ever look at boy’s hands and just nod to yourself in satisfaction? Like boy, yas.
183. Why is James spelled with “s”? Why is it plural? More than one Jame. How many James?
184.A: Drunk me is the me I want to be - confident, hilarious and most importantly - drunk.
B: That’s because you don’t have to clean the puke.
185. Are you gonna kiss me, or do I have to lie to my dairy?
186. I man be trash , but I’m high quality trash. Premium trash, Grade A trash. The kind of trash your mom would look at and say “should this be recycling?”. Yea, I’m that kind of trash.
187. I’m alive, but only ironically.
188. A (opens the door): What are you doing on the floor?
B : Sometimes you just need to lay on the floor.
189. A: Hey, who wants to start a gang?
B: I’ll ask my mom.
190. He’s like a Lana del Rey song that took human form.
191. A: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon?
B: I’m a knife.
192. I’m strong enough to carry your corpse to the woods. So watch out.
193. Merry Fucking Christmas, where is the hard liquor?
194. There are approximately 1,013,913 words in the English language, but I could never string any of them together to explain how much I want to hit you with a chair.
195. Excuse me, who let you adult?
196. I’m like four days past my bedtime.
197. A: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.
B: What if I cut off your left leg? Would that make you stronger? Would. It.
198. Do you ever look at someone and you’re like “how”?
199. I have three moods: Fuck you, Fuck off and Fuck me.
200. I either dress like I’m going to a red carpet event or like a homeless drug addict, there’s no in between.
201. My heart says “yes”, but my mom says “no”.
202.A: You need anger management classes.
B: And you need Shut the fuck up classes.
203. A: What are you? Twelve?
B: Yeah, on the scale of one to ten!
204. A: Life’s tough guys.
B to C: S/He’s drinking chocolate milk shots?!
205. You ever listen to your dad talk abd be like “Why are you like this?”
206. I swear to God dude, if you don’t stop I’ll fucking hold your hand and tell you I love you.
207. Let’s see what moves they taught your wrinkled ass in the war of Who knows when, bitch. Talk shit, get hit.
208. A: Finally worked up the courage to tellthe Starbucks girl she was beautiful, and I only puked twice.
B: Did you puke on her?
A: That’s not imporatnt. What’s important is that she knows how I feel now.
209. Hello there my significant annoyance!
210. You’re about as irrelevant as Mean Girls 2.
211. My seduction style is genuinely caring about your life and wanting you to improve and be happy.
212. A: Being attractive is so inconvenient, like how am I supposed to do anything if I’m constantly surrounded by fangirls?
B: Open your mouth, your personality will drive them away.
213. A: Fuck that honesty.
B: Fuck me honestly.
214. Who gave your voice a permission to sound that attractive?
215. (A & B are not together; but are crushing)
C: So How did you get in an accident exactly? A: Well we were driving and I saw there was a deer on the road, so I yelled “B, deer!” C: And?? B: …. A: Come on tell C your answer B *sighs* : “Yes, dear?”
216. Do you know how hard I worked for us to have accidental eye contact?
217. Cute as heck, but will break your neck.
218. Maybe I should send you a bill for all my time you’ve wasted.
219. Be careful with my emotional baggage. It’s designer.
220. A *lying*: Honestly,
221. Okay, I admit it, I am an asshole. But I have a nice booty and soft hair, so I feel like I deserve the best, like? Yes?
222. They say the best things in life are free, but that’s only true if you steel them.
223. Your inability to learn complicated handshakes is tearing this gang apart.
224. Each time I tell you those three words I mean them more and more - Leave. Me. Alone.
225. Stop being rude and start being nude.
226. Don’t ask me for advice, I’ll accidentally ruin your life.
227. Tips on talking to me when I’m pissed off. Number one - Don’t.
228. I touch myself whenever I think about you. More specifically, I rub my temples because I get a headache, because you’re awful.
229. We can only be friends if you are kind of an asshole. Not full blown asshole, because that’s no fun. And if you’re not an asshole at all that won’t work out wither. A half way asshole. Those are my kind of people.
230. I love being dramatic and half naked.
231. Hey, I heard you like bad boys and I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I’m really really bad. At everything.
232. I’m not smiling at you, I’m smiling at your dog. Don’t look at me.
233. I wanna be hot enough to make people question their sexual orientation.
234. A: Wait you like me? For my personality?
B: I know, I was surprised too.
235. Why do you look like you choked on your toothpaste?
236. This is an awful sex position. Why did I let you talk me into this? Where are my arms?!
237. Look at me, I’m the perfect gentleman, so why don’t you stop bitching around and accept these that flowers I stole for you?
238. There’s not enough therapy and liquor in the world to undo that.
239. I love sunglasses, am I looking at that tree? Am I staring at your dick? Who knows?
240. A: Shouldn’t you be sleeping? B: In your bed, with you? Yes.
241. I get anxious for people who fall asleep on public transit. Like where is your home? How many stops have you missed? This was not a time for a nap.
242. My friendship comes at three levels: sass, insults and inappropriate sexual humor. So pick one.
243. A to A: Not now boner.
244. A: You are really quiet. B: No one plans murder out loud.
245. No, you see, if I ever call you “little shit”, it means I love you.
246. We have hung out five times and only had sex three of those. I call that friendship.
247. A: Guy unbuckling his belt is the hottest thing in the world. B: Unless it’s his seatbelt. In this case it’s a big no no.
248. I don’t understand why people need to do drugs or party in order to have fun, like have you tried mac n cheese?
249. I wonder if anyone notices I only wear three pairs of pants.
250. A: Why do we fight over stupid shit? B: Because you say stupid shit.
251. A: You know, you were right. B: About what, specifically? Because I’m right about a lot of things.
AN: I apologise for the probably terrible editing of this piece i’m still full of flu and feeling pretty crappy. I reached 300 followers today though and wanted to celebrate with a bit of fluffy Vane for my beautiful followers.
You sat on the double bed with your legs crossed as you
watched Vane pace up and down the small bedroom floor of your room. There was
almost smoke coming out of his ears he was so angry. When he was in this kind
of mood, when he was this angry there was little anyone could do to lam him
down. Even you wouldn’t be able to say much to bring him down from the ledge he’d
climbed himself up onto.
Instead you could sit and wait for him to calm himself, until
he was ready to talk about whatever it was that had started the anger in the
“Fucking Bastards” he suddenly shouted making a fist and
smashing it into the wall “fucking cheap bastards”
The plaster had cracked and flaked as he hit the wall and
you weren’t convince that he wouldn’t bring the whole thing down if he hit it
“Vane?” you said softly trying to get his attention. He spun
to face you eyes blazing with anger. You may feel many things towards Vane so
of which you didn’t want or need to investigate yet, fear however, wasn’t one
of them. Vane had an evil reputation and you were aware of the vicious rumours
about him, it was impossible not to be however he had never hurt you and you
somehow just knew that he never would.
“Let me see” you urged taking the hand he had just smashed
into the wall. The skin on his knuckles was torn, blood coming from the
numerous small cuts there. “That was stupid”
“You think I’m stupid?” he growled out, anger still clouding
“I think hitting a wall is stupid yes” You ripped a piece of
material off of your skirt blotting the cuts clean and tying the makeshift
bandage around his knuckles to stem the bleeding. “Are you going to tell me?”
He was staring at the knot on his knuckles. “We got shafted
in a deal” he eventually admitted changing his gaze to look at your face. “Half
the loot is gone because fucking Jack Ratham thought once again he was cleverer
than everyone else”
Of course it was Jack Ratham. It was always Jack.
“Vane, Jack is always going to think he is cleverer than
everyone else. That will never change”
“You didn’t let me finish” you admonished getting yet
another growl from a clearly frustrated Vane. “What can change is the way you
respond to him”
He wouldn’t admit it and no one else would dare try it but
surprisingly often Vane would listen to logic and reason.
“Well I would guess that you mostly just yelled and
threatened to cut his cock from his body once more”
“And if I did?” he muttered defensively, meaning he had.
“Well that method is obviously not working”
Vane really did look curious now as he sat down beside you
on the bed grabbing your thighs and pulling you over to straddle his lap. You
wrapped your arms around his neck letting your forehead rest on his own.
“It might be time for a different method of dealing with
Jack and Anne”
“What do you suggest?”
“What is the one thing that Jack likes more than women and
power? The thing he can’t live without?”
“Money” his eyes widened “the one thing on this island that
every man here wants more of”
“So if we take money away from him” you suggested “he bends
more to… your way of thinking”
“Beauty and brains” Vane smiled brushing your hair back from
your face placing his hands on your cheeks to tilt you head back enough so he
could stare straight into your eyes. “How do you do that?” he was watching you
carefully “how do you always know what to say?”
You laughed putting your hands up to cover his own. “Vane I never
know what to say” she admitted softly. “It’s my own biggest secret, everyone
says or somehow seems to think I have all the right words the answers to all
the problems they keep bringing to me. I don’t know how I became this person,
and I don’t know how to keep going most of the time. I’m not Eleanor Guthrie
and don’t want to be yet somehow I’ve been thrust into that role”
“Y/N” the gravel was in his voice again this time not
because of anger though.
There was that emotion there that neither wanted to
acknowledge. It had been floating around between them for a while now. Unvoiced
but there all the same. You were more scared of that emotion than you were of
anything else in the world. So instead of answering it, instead of talking
about and giving it voice you avoided the look in his eyes and reached out to
pull his lips to your own. Kissing him with all your might, trying to let that
explain without words that you knew what he was feeling and you felt it too.
Vane responded instantly gripping you roughly, lifting you
even higher up his thighs by your hips holding hard enough that you were bound
to get bruises from his fingers.
“Going to use your anger for something more productive
“Whatever the lady wants love”
In a quick movement that proved his muscles weren’t just for
show but strength he’d lifted you up and rolled them over so he was on top of
you laying between your legs.
Your hands made quick work of the meagre clothes you’d both
“Vane hurry please” you begged as you parted your legs even
further welcoming him into you.
With a need that matched your own Vane groaned pushing
himself deeper into your body, one of his hands gripped the headboard of the
bed giving him a balance to set a rough, quick pace carried onwards by the
remains of his anger.
You needed him more than you’d ever needed him before,
clinging to his shoulders urging him on with soft moans of his name. You
dragged your nails down his back digging into skin desperate to feel anything
he was willing to give you.
Vane could feel your urgency, could feel your desperation
and it rose something primal in him, something wild and urgent that wanted
nothing more than to make you scream his name to the heavens.
“Fuck Vane! Harder” you gasped out “please”
He grunted slamming himself deep into you, he could hear
your moans becoming more erratic, muscles clamping down on his until finally
you tipped over the edge with a cry wrenched from the depths of your throat.
Vane buried his head in your shoulder pumping a few more
times before emptying himself inside you.
You both lay stuck together bodies laced with sweat as you
continued to hold him tightly with your legs tangled in his own. Y/N had been
one of the only women he’d slept with that he’d allowed to hold him after sex.
The only one who he had wanted to hold him and hold in return.
“I fucked up your back”
Charles raised his head slightly at you words to look over
one shoulder as your fingers traced the grooves and gouges that your nails had
“Don’t care” was his eventual response.
He rolled off of you dislodging the hold you had on him and
freeing their limbs from each other. Vane put his hands up behind his head
staring up at the ceiling.
“You certainly know how to calm me down darling”
You poked him with your foot. “I don’t think that method is
one I want to be using on anyone else”
He moved faster than you’d imagined possible for a man
seemingly so at rest, hovering above you a hand at your throat.
“Don’t even think it Y/N”
“Why is that? Are you going to stop me if I wanted to Vane?”
He didn’t answer just tightened the fingers around your throat. “Just what is it you think you’d do?”
“I’d kill them” he whispered softly “I’d kill whoever I found
you with slowly, painfully and then I’d deal with you”
“You going to kill me Charles? If I upset you? Defy you?
He paused the tension going out of his body in one long
breath as he let go of your throat and rolled over to his back once more.
“No” he sighed rubbing as his face and stubbled jaw “no pet I
wouldn’t kill you”
Y/N didn’t like the sound of resignation in his voice, it
wasn’t in his nature to sound so defeated. Rolling over yourself so you could
lean your arms on his chest.
“I won’t Vane, you know I wouldn’t”
He looked carefully at you “You won’t?”
You shook your head “I won’t and I wouldn’t”
Vane impulsively wrapped an arm around your waist holding
you down to his chest kissing the top of your head.
“I know pet. I know you wouldn’t” he snorted “after all it
took long enough for me to get you in my bed”
You elbowed him in the stomach, or as well as you could
considering your current position. “You are nothing but a walking ego Captain
Charles Vane. That an a roving cock”
“Ain’t that the truth sweetheart” he was dragging a hand up
and down your back in comforting strokes.
“CAPTAIN” the shout from below the window made you groan “CAPTAIN
I KNOW YOU’RE UP THERE” he sounded drunk “CAPTAIN!?”
“Fucking Jack Ratham” he growled sitting up and flinging
himself out of bed to wrench open the window.
You laid there listening to them fight back and forth. “For
fuck sake Vane just go down. Stop screaming out of my window”
Vane cursed harshly grabbing his trousers and yanking them
on. “Jack is going to owe me for more than half some gold at this rate”
You watched as he stormed out the room with enough force
that you almost felt sorry for Jack. Almost.
→ Warnings: If you hadn’t guessed by the title then idk fam, don’t read this is dirty af.
→ Request:angelaiswriting said: Hello, my love! I’m here to request that crack preist!Vane x Reader story! You can use the stuff we said on WhatsApp or come up with something new, it’s totally up to you. It can be an AU, or Vane disguising himself ‘cause he needs to do something, or he killed the priest and was caught so he had to come up with something. Whatever you like. If you make it smut, okay. If you make it fluff, okay. But for the love of God make me laugh until the day I die 'cause I know you can! Thank you ♥
→ A/N: Maybe I need help, maybe I don’t … I probably do.
Since Don Quixote de la Mancha is a crazy fool and a madman, and since Sancho Panza, his squire, knows it, yet, for all that, serves and follows him, and hangs on these empty promises of his, there can be no doubt that he is more of a madman and a fool than his master.
Miguel de Cervantes, Don Quixote.
“The number of times I have followed you blindly, backed you with the men blindly, put men in the fucking ground good men, friends because you said, “I know the way. Don’t ask me how. Just do as I say.” I may not have understood it, I may not have supported it, but I did it.”
Captain Vane sat on
an upturned crate, the only thing available to sit on in the small room he’d
rented upon arrival back in Nassau.
The only piece of furniture in the room was a
small double bed on which currently Y/N was stretched out on, completely naked,
covered over your upper legs and stomach only by a tangled thin sheet that he
guessed had once been white. He was naked himself but that wasn’t such a rare occurrence.
Sunlight streamed through the open windows dappling your skin in light and noise
from below was starting to be heard as Nassau woke once more to a beautiful
Y/N was relaxed in sleep looking no more than a young 25 years and
Vane looking at you was having a very serious mental crisis. He’d thought or
hoped that screwing Y/N would fix his need for you and by fix it he meant
get over it.
In fact though all it had done was make it worse. His fingers
itched to continue touching you and his skin crawled with the need to be touched in
return. He couldn’t remember ever feeling like this before, even when he’d
thought himself so in love with Eleanor he hadn’t felt this constant and
overwhelming need to be with her, to look at her and touch her. To just be in
her company. He alternately wanted to protect Y/N from the world and anyone
in it who would dare try and hurt you and also fuck you so hard that you’d forget every other man but him even existed. Not that he thought Y/N slept
around. It was well known among the pirates of Nassau that trying to get at
what was under your skirts was a useless endeavour.
Unable to stop
himself any longer Vane placed a hand on your uncovered ankle trailing his
fingers up your calf to encircle your knee, pushing the sheet up as his fingers
travelled, revealing more and more skin that felt like silk under his touch.
violating a sleeping woman?” an amused and half asleep voice asked him.
Vane looked up
meeting your hooded eyes “Violating is what I do pet” he drawled.
huskily bending your leg up at the knee allowing the sheet to fall the final few
inches away so you were completely bare to his eyes once more. You were completely uninhibited about your body which he found undeniably sexy, along
with the scars on your body proclaiming how hard you had fought to live freely
He’d kept his hand
on your skin and you reached down grabbing it from your knee and lacing your fingers together with his own using the contact to pull him off the crate and
back towards the bed. He came willingly enough laying himself over you holding
his weight up on his elbows so his face hovered over your own.
“You’re a witch”
he guessed “And you’ve spelled me it’s the only reason as to why I can’t leave
Y/N was laughing
again softly “you found out my evil plan” you joked wrapping your legs around
his lean waist pulling him down and into your body. Your laugh turned to a husky gasp
as he slid deep inside of you his own groan mingling with yours. Your hands
gripped tightly into the muscles of his shoulders.
“God Vane” you moaned as he
moved inside you ramming himself back into you over and over again. Your heels
dug into the small of his back and small moans urged him onwards, to take you harder. With his head pressed into your neck you screamed out his name both of
you reaching climax together.
He lay panting on
top of you trying to regain his breath as you played absently with the braids
in his hair breathing hard yourself.
“Do you do these yourself?”
“What?” he muttered
into your skin.
“The braids, you do
them yourself?” he grunted his yes as you smiled “Kind of weird image thinking
of the great Captain Charles Vane evil scourge of the oceans sat playing with
Vane pushed himself
up so he could look down into your face “do you always talk so much after sex?”
Y/N slapped at
his shoulder pushing him up slightly so you could wriggle out from underneath
his body sitting upon the side of the bed.
“still an ignorant ass” you admonished. You leant over the edge of the bed to grab your shirt and pull it on
before getting up to find your other clothes.
“Where’d the fuck
you think you’re going?”
“Work” Y/N finished lacing up your bodice “the Avery doesn’t open itself Vane and I have
deals to figure out” you turned back to look at him as you swept your hair up off your neck and pinned it efficiently to the top of your head away from your face. Vane
sat up as well resting his elbows on his knees.
“Yes Deals, trade
for the Avery. Nothing to do with the Ranger”
“You realise you
work for me, not those other scum who dock here don’t you darling” his voice had
changed to a growl “and I don’t like my crew negotiating with others”
Y/N was frowning
now, putting your hands on your hips you glared down at Vane
“You have no claim
on my time Vane when I’m off the Ranger. The Avery is my responsibility and I
will take care of it”
Vane was glaring at
you as well apparently just as annoyed at you as you were with him.
“No Charles” you shook your head “Think with your brain for a moment will you. If no one controls
the Avery and other Pirates then life here disintegrates. I can’t be a Merchant
for you if there is no trade to deal with”
He could grumble
but he knew you had a point even if he didn’t like the idea of you trading with
“Fine fuck off then will you”
Y/N who was too
used to his moods to notice or care that he was swearing at you simply bent
over the bed to place your hands on his shoulders balancing yourself there and
kissed him deeply.
“Always such a sweet talker Captain Vane” you pecked him
once more on the nose before pushing up off of him and walking out of the room.
Vane sat watching you, Y/N was an enigma. Sometimes a fire cracker who wouldn’t
take his shit for anything and other times smiling and kissing him even when he
was growling and being an ass. He didn’t understand women one bit, all fucking
bat shit crazy and you were worse than all the others.
That didn’t stop him
realising though that he was in deep shit with you. His body craving you with every fibre of its being, you’d left only minutes ago and already he
wanted you back.
Cursing himself for a fucking idiot he grabbed his own clothes
from the floor. He had work to do.