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angelaiswriting · 7 years

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Back Again | Charles Vane x Reader (part 2 of 2)

[GIF not mine] - READ PART ONE HERE

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” + smut as ‘requested’ by @selldraug

A/N: I just want to thank you, Anon(s), because I really enjoyed developing your request! Also, this is my first attempt at smut since ages, and anyway nobody’s ever read my smuts. Your opinions about how it turned out would be sooooo appreciated!

Fandom: Black Sails. Pairing: Charles Vane x Reader

Warnings: what if in which Vane is still alive. SMUT

Requests are OPEN

Word-count: 2964

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It took Charles Vane days to convince Y/N to help him with the conquest of the port of Nassau, but he eventually succeeded. He hoped Y/N would keep her promise because once back into civilization he’d really need her help.

He had spent a lot of time training her with the two swords she somehow had in a trunk under her bed. And damn, she was now very good at it! She had whined all the time because she wasn’t sure she really wanted to do this, but he hadn’t listened to her and he was so proud of the result.

And then something happened.

They had been fighting all day and he had taught her some moves. It had been an exhausting day and they had somehow ended up kissing each other. It hadn’t been a sweet kiss or a passionate one: it had been hungry, almost as though their lips and tongues had been continuing that day’s training.

Then, as swift as it had come, the kiss broke.

They hadn’t talked about what had happened ever since.

Even now Charles was sure he had felt the sea on her lips and that wish came up again: to be with her because he loved the sea and she was the sea. And how could he let that slip from his fingers?

He could lose Nassau, he could lose the gold, he could even lose his crew. But the sea, that never-ending and yet finite expanse of water and thrill… Even with nothing left he would never let go of it. That same salt water flowed in his veins and determined who he was.

A pirate.

A Captain.

And even though he could have a safe and peaceful life with Y/N, he didn’t want all those men to let go their real identity. It was love, what they felt, and it was life. And what was a man without love and life? What was a pirate without the sea and all it had to offer?

In front of him, there was Nassau teeming with life and not even night was able to put the town to sleep.

Hidden behind a group of palm trees, Charles Vane and Y/N observed its life, the coming and going of pirates and harlots. Two Englishmen stood at the entrance of the building where – according to Vane – Eleanor lived.

Woodes Rogers probably lives there too, he had whispered in her ear while pointing at the building with his sword.

Y/N had been quiet ever since they had left her cottage that afternoon.

She was scared, Charles Vane could almost feel it on his skin like when the sea gets ready for a storm. He could see the flames of the bonfires in the distance reflected into her eyes while she looked at them.

“I didn’t remember this place to be so beautiful,” she whispered, crawling a few feet back to hide behind the remaining of old launches.

He followed her and laid against the wood. “Why did you leave?”

“I thought we had an agreement.”

“Jack Rackham hasn’t come out yet. We have some time to talk.” He wanted to know. He needed to know something about her. She knew almost everything about him and to him she still was a mystery.

“It’s stupid,” she said, hoping that those words would cut the conversation to an end. But he urged her to speak and she didn’t know how to say ’no’ to him anymore. “I was kind of a slave, something like seven years ago. You know, a fanatic captain found me in the Caribbean and thought I was Calypso. He was so convinced of it that he kidnapped me.”

“Calypso?” Charles chuckled. “As in the goddess of the sea?”

Y/N nodded. “He wasn’t a very lucky pirate and his crew grew angrier by the second. He thought that maybe with me by his side he’d tame the sea, he’d turn it to his side. Which was the most stupid thing I’ve heard ever since I can remember – I am no goddess and sure as hell I can’t tame the sea,” and she laughed a little. “You just can’t tame it. However, I ended up here and when he understood that I couldn’t be of help… well, he did things to me – bad things. No one helped. They all stood by and stared, all those people, but never reached out to help me. In the end, I left.” She turned to looked at him and found him staring intently at her. “I hope this is your only question because – as I’ve already said – the past stays in the past.”

He tilted his head and eventually nodded. He wanted to know that captain’s name but knew well enough that she wouldn’t answer that question.

Charles could understand why that guy thought she was Calypso. She looked beautiful, free yet caged, but there was something inside her, something deep and as old as the sea, that couldn’t be tamed. There was a spark in her eyes, something that death and torture couldn’t switch off.

And yet she had brought him back. He had died and yet still breathed. What human being could do something like that? And what was the price of such a miracle? He knew nature wasn’t keen on giving without receiving something in return.

What had been the price of his resurrection?

He was about to ask her, to force her to answer him, when a well-known voice caught his attention. When he turned, Jack Rackham, his former quartermaster, was taking a piss.

Charles grabbed Y/N’s arm and pointed at Jack. “Go take him. I don’t care what you do, but bring him here.”

She snorted but stood up anyway.

“Hi there,” she smiled when she reached him.

Jack started in surprise and hurried to put his prick where it belonged. He turned around and furrowed his eyebrows. “Who are you?”

“A friend,” she simply answered before she sweet-talked him into following her.

Keeping Jack’s surprise quiet had been quite a challenge, but Y/N had eventually shut his mouth by putting her handkerchief into it.

Convincing him to help the two of them… well, that was something Y/N would never willingly do ever again.

But in the end, Jack Rackham had gathered them an army – or, better, a bunch of drunk nostalgic pirates. Y/N had looked at Charles and stopped herself just in time from saying: “You must be kidding me.”

Even when that Jack guy told them that the Brits had sent back home their ships and only kept two in the bay, the girl remained pissed.

“This is going to be a suicide,” she muttered to Charles a few nights later, after one of their gatherings with the men.

“Probably,” he answered, looking up at her before downing his rum. Fuck, he hadn’t drunk that shit in ages and he had missed it. “But I’m not giving up on what’s mine.”

“And what exactly is yours?” Y/N bit back. “You died. Nothing’s yours anymore.”

“The sea still is. And it’s theirs too. Some of them know nothing else – and others want nothing else. That guy thought you were Calypso and held you captive because of that. Knowing what that feels like, would you want other women or girls to go through that?”

She shook her head no.

He stood up and grabbed her by her waist, surprising the both of them. “I won’t let those men lose what’s theirs.”

It took them time to be ready to attack and to find enough men to win. Charles would’ve been happy to have Flint’s help and that of his crew, but he wasn’t that lucky that time.

Vane and Y/N had split up. He and his men were aiming at Eleanor and the Englishmen on the island, while Jack, Y/N, and their men were swimming silently towards the two British ships left in the harbor.

Y/N still believed this was a suicidal idea. They were all gonna end up dead, whether they’d be shot, hung or pierced by a sword.

“Such a bad idea,” she muttered under her breath while climbing the ladder to get into the ship.

And those fuckers had sent her up first.

Jesus Christ, she’d never understand pirates.

Luckily no one was in sight and she was soon joined by Jack.

She looked at him and shook her head. “You sure we can trust the others with that other ship?”

He simply nodded. “They’ll free the port, and Vane will free the land. We all get what we want and he can rule as he has always wanted.”

She let the men go first. The idea of killing… well, she didn’t like it that much. She’d rather help Charles without murdering anyone, but…

“Hey, you!” someone angrily yelled.

She turned in the direction of the voice. One of Rogers’ men was walking towards her.

“I thought we said no whores on board,” he yelled again. When he reached her, he grabbed her wrist, hurting her.

“Excuse you?” Y/N was fuming. Her? A fucking whore? She stood there, her wrist in his grasp, dripping on the deck of that stupid ship. And she was being called a ’whore’. Before she knew it she had taken her gun and had shot him in the forehead. “Your mother might be a whore, you jackass,” she hissed. She kicked his corpse and took his gun.

She was so done being nice with everyone. She had been called a whore enough when he still believed her to be Calypso. She wasn’t going to stand someone else calling her like that anymore.

“What’s all that blood?” Charles asked when Y/N got back to the shore with Jack and his men.

“You know, the Brits bleed too,” Jack huffed, grabbing the rum bottle from which Anne Bonny was drinking. “Eleanor?” he asked.

“Inside your whorehouse,” was Vane’s answer. “Tied up, with Rogers.”

“How did you even come back to life?” someone asked, his voice standing above all the other voices.

He shrugged the question off his shoulders, grabbed Y/N’s hand covered in blood and headed to what had once been Eleanor Guthrie’s chambers.

The bedroom in which he led her was cool, a blessing compared to the mugginess outside. The shutters were closed and three oil lamps light the room up.

“You okay?” he asked her, turning her face left and right to check for wounds.

She moved his hands off her face. “I’m fine,” she answered, pissed off. “Are you?”

He laughed. “You need more than this to hurt Charles Vane.”

“Should I remember you that the last time Charles Vane got killed?”

She shook her head and turned towards the window.

Dawn was crawling its way through the splits in the shutters.

“What’s wrong?” he walked up behind her, the smell of sea and blood hitting his nostrils.

If she wasn’t Calypso, he didn’t know who else could be.

“I’m so pissed,” she sighed, massaging her temples.

He kissed the exposed skin of her right shoulder. And there it was, the taste of the sea, the taste of life. He shouldn’t be drawn to her, he knew it, but fuck.

“Why are you pissed?” he whispered against her skin. He started to wipe the blood off her cleavage.

“This was a fucking suicide,” she hissed. Her hands were trembling furiously. “I killed four people.”

“Hey.” He turned her around and moved locks of hair behind her ears. “It’s okay. You’re okay. We’re all okay.”

“Not them,” she whispered back, wiping some blood off her forehead. “Does this make me a bad person?”

Charles moved to grab a shirt from a chair, dipped it into the washbowl on the desk and used it to clean her face. “You brought me back, without even knowing me, without wanting anything in return. You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.” He didn’t even know he could be this sweet, he noticed. He just couldn’t help himself around her.

They stared at each other for a while. From outside came the sound of men cheering and singing. Some of the girls from Jack’s brothel were laughing and probably someone was dancing.

Then, suddenly, Y/N reached up, grabbed his cheeks in her bloodied hands and kissed him hard.

It was like a continuation of their first kiss: rough, needy, greedy.

He kissed her back and grabbed her butt, lifting her off the ground. When she circled his waist with her legs, he grunted.

She tugged at his hair, her body pressed up against his, her wet clothes soaking his.

When he broke the kiss she was about to whine, but he attached his lips to her previously bloodied neck and she let out a moan. That kiss had her hips grinding involuntarily against his waist.

Holding her tight, he walked her to Eleanor’s bed and laid her down, laughing a little when she didn’t make a move to remove her legs from his waist. She laughed too and she looked flustered, with her hair dripping on the pillow and her crumpled blood stained clothes.

“You’re so beautiful,” he grinned, taking his shirt off.

She freed herself from her shirt too and got up to kiss his lips again. He tasted like home, like safety, and for a minute of two, she bathed in the hope that she’d somehow be safe with him by her side.

Without breaking the kiss she fumbled with his belt, trying to unbuckle it.

A few minutes later they had somehow managed to undress each other and Charles was now kissing her neck, her hands tugging his hair almost painfully.

His lips burned her skin like fire in their descent down her cleavage and on her breast. Y/N was panting desperately, grinding against his erection.

Charles groaned again and lightly bit the side of her left breast.

“Charles,” Y/N panted.

He looked up at her, smirking, rubbing his thumbs against her already hardened nipples. Some of the blood he had had on his face was now smeared on her skin and this mere fact turned him on even more. “What?”

“I’m begging you.” She was almost whining, wiggling under his gaze.

Her hair was a mess on the pillow and she’d most likely end up knotting it, but she looked like she didn’t care.

Vane went back to kiss her breast and then down to her stomach, lightly touching her bellybutton with his nose. His right hand slipped down to grab her thigh while he positioned himself at her entrance.

He raised his gaze again. She was staring at him, heavily breathing, her chest furiously rising and falling. That was a sight that even the sea couldn’t beat.

He pushed inside her slowly and watched as Y/N’s eyes rolled back in her head, her back arching. He pushed deeper until his hips touched hers and he bent down to kiss her breasts. He let her hands crawl up his arms until her fingers tangled in his hair.

He teased her a little more, kissing her neck and staying still. Then, suddenly, he pushed out and then back in fast. She gasped against his neck and urged him to keep moving, her breath ragged against his skin, her breast brushing against his chest, driving him crazy.

He pushed in again and kissed her behind her ear, inhaling the smell of salt water in her hair and setting up a pace.

Soon enough Y/N was panting even harder under him, kissing and biting the skin of his neck. She was moaning his name again and again and he thought he had never liked it like that before.

“Oh gosh,” she sighed suddenly, scratching his back with her nails, sending shivers down his spine.

He pushed out. “On all four,” he groaned and grabbed her waist when she did as he ordered her.

He opened her legs a bit more and positioned himself between them, bending forward to grab the headboard as he penetrated her again. He straightened his back and started pounding into her fast, hard, mercilessly, grabbing her hips so hard with his hands that bruises were going to form.

She was pushing against him, trying to meet his thrusts.

“Jesus, Charles,” she moaned so loud that he thought everybody on the beach would now know what they were doing.

She stood up, standing on her knees, and rested her head on his left shoulder, grabbing his neck with her right arm. One of his hands snaked up to grab her left breast while he kept thrusting hard into her, moaning her name, biting the skin of her neck, sucking all the salt off it.

A second later he felt her body clench around him and she was a panting mess in his arms, eyes rolled back in her head, body covered in sweat.

He came a few thrusts later, biting her neck and leaving a mark.

When he pushed out of her again, she laid down and dragged him down with her.

“I’m finally king of this fucking place,” he panted, letting her snuggle against his chest.

She laughed. “I’ve never been in the presence of a king.”

He chuckled too. “You helped me with this and with coming back from the dead. I think you can be in my presence whenever you want,” he said. “Wherever you want,” he added and she chuckled.

With Calypso in his arms he’d stand the idea of not going to sea whenever he wanted, he thought. And shit was it worth it!

Tag: @georgiagrl1990

#charles vane #charles vane imagine #captain charles vane #black sails #black sails imagine #black sails imagines #imagine #imagines #charles vane x reader #reader insert #writeblr #writing requests

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