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somedaylazysomeday · 2 months

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Captured - Part Three

For the first time, you're in the infamous Guthrie's Tavern. It goes about as well as expected.

Captain Charles Vane (Black Sails) x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit. Minors DNI

Word Count: 5,800

Warnings: Concealed gender, drinking, mentions of prostitution, brief reference to public sex, reader is disappointingly heterosexual, mention of anal sex, unprotected sex, brief anal play

Previous | Masterlist

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The liquid in your pewter tankard was foul.

You had tried to set it back on the scarred wooden surface of the table several times, but it barely rested on the surface before someone was offering to fill it once more. By this point, it was near-overflowing and you could hardly manage more than an occasional sip.

It was loud, the large room filled with men boisterous from their work. Fights broke out every few minutes and you were uncomfortable with the women milling about half-dressed. Even worse were the ones sitting on laps around the room, caressed by the patrons - or taking part in less tame activities.

It was hardly somewhere you wanted to be, but the men had wanted to go to the tavern on Nassau. You were flattered that they had wanted to bring you along.

You did your best to relax and enjoy the coolness of the shaded room on the hot island and the excitement buzzing in the air. The stories and jokes being shouted by your crewmates around the table made you smile, and you braved another sip from your tankard.

Vane rumbled a laugh, which lightened your mood still further. He had managed to seat you two beside each other around the table, accomplished due to his own need to have his back at a wall and the fact that you had been leading the group through the chaotic room.

He had been quiet since the beach. More accurately, he had been brooding. One of the men had told you they were going to ‘the tavern’. You, unaware of any issue, had asked if it had a proper name or if it were known as ‘the tavern’ because it was the only one on the island. The answer had been that there were a few, but everyone knew Guthrie’s was the best one.

The uncomfortable silence and venomous stares from the other crewmembers had been your first hint that something was amiss. Vane pushed past them all, swaggering in the direction they had been moving. You only picked up on the clues when one of the pirates elbowed the one who had spoken, telling him not to say that name in front of the captain. Not if he wanted to keep from pulling night watch for a fortnight.

You had trailed behind the group, trying to put together all of the pieces of information you had gathered during your time on the Ranger. But Vane seemed to be in better spirits now. Perhaps it was the company. Perhaps it was the temporary release from the stress of captaining a pirate crew. Perhaps it was the two tankards he had managed to drain, or the third he was currently nursing.

In any case, you were happy to listen to your fellow crewmates regale each other with stories, remembering the men who had crewed the Ranger before or tossing around names of potential new recruits.

That casual atmosphere was shattered when a pretty blonde woman marched through the room.

The men at the table went silent, and something told you this was more than appreciation for a beautiful woman after months at sea. Perhaps this was the famous Eleanor Guthrie.

She was halfway past your table when her blue eyes landed on Vane and slowed, her eyes dragging over him like they were reluctant to move elsewhere. But they did, and unfortunately, they moved to you.

It took only a moment of studying your face for her lip to curl and she came to a stop directly in front of your table.

“Charles,” she greeted, her tone flat and unwelcoming. The men tried to pretend their focus was elsewhere, but your attention was glued to the scene.

“Eleanor,” Vane ground out. You had never heard him sound so hostile, especially in only a single word.

“Your hubris is almost to be admired,” Eleanor told him icily. She jutted her chin toward you. “Most men refuse to sail with a single woman on their crew, and yet you have managed to find a second. Was Bonny alone not enough to tempt fate?”

A stunned silence fell, and you watched the muscles in Vane’s jaw flex. A slap to your shoulder nearly knocked you from your chair.

“What, d’ya mean Simon?” Elias asked. “He’s a man if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Yeah,” Murphy agreed with a guffaw. “A young ‘un, but he’ll have his whiskers soon as his balls drop.”

That was crass, but you appreciated the fond way Murphy reached across the table to tug your hat down over your eyes. You offered a weak smile when you had fixed it well enough to see again.

“Simon,” Eleanor repeated skeptically. “Simon what?”

You gave your best attempt at lowering your voice into a male register. “Simon Grove, ma’am.”

“Simon Grove.” Eleanor folded her arms over her front, giving you a disapproving look. “How startlingly delicate you are for serving aboard a sailing vessel for… How long is it now? Several months?”

Your mouth opened noiselessly as you processed the shock of knowing that Eleanor Guthrie had been keeping tabs on your time aboard the Ranger.

Benny rested his elbow on your shoulder. “Aye, he’s a skinny little lad, but it’s only ‘cause he was an apprentice back in London. Worked for some man, didn’t you, boy? Doin’ sums?”

“I was an apprentice to a bookkeeper,” you agreed. “No time for physical labor.”

“Physical labor,” James mocked. “Hear him, lads? Still speaks like a highborn lady, don’t he?”

“Indeed,” Eleanor bit out. The men startled as if they had forgotten that she was standing there. “Quite feminine.”

“Leave it, Eleanor,” Vane commanded, his voice so deep that you could barely understand him.

Eleanor eyed him for a moment, one brow raised challengingly. At last, she gave the barest hint of a nod. “My mistake, Simon. Enjoy your time in my tavern.”

Everyone watched Eleanor Guthrie sweep away, but you finally recognized their attention for what it was: wariness. You distrusted her, and it seemed that you were far from the only one. It was only after she had disappeared into an office off the main room of the tavern that your crewmates relaxed.

You struggled to regain your previous state of relaxation, though, and Vane returned to scowling. You had to wonder whether he was angry because of the sudden appearance of a past lover or that she had recognized that he had found another with whom to replace her. Eleanor struck you as the breed of woman to despise competition.

Those suspicions were confirmed when you spotted a beautiful woman crossing the room with another trailing behind. Both of their gazes were fixed on the table, and you braced yourself for an incoming shock.

“I am looking for… Simon?” the shorter of the two women asked. She had been in the lead, and there was something in her voice and posture that subtly announced her status as an authority figure of some kind. Her dress was of a higher quality than many of the others and bared less of her skin, but she was utterly sensual with the soft waves of her hair and the lilt of her French accent.

“Bastard,” Elias cursed, even as he grinned at you. “He’s over there.”

You lifted a hand, making the motion as quick and small as you could manage.

She caught it anyway, smiling at you. “I am Max, the madame. This is Jeanette.”

Max’s accent rolled Jeanette’s name the way it was meant to be, giving it the melodic weight it deserved. There was a pause, full of a meaning you did not quite grasp. You nodded, offering a smile to the women. “Nice to meet you, Jeanette.”

“Pleasure,” Jeanette said, her seductive smile melting toward something more natural.

“A man with manners,” Max remarked, also smiling. “Jeanette here is a gift from Eleanor Guthrie. She apologizes for her misstep. Your first hour with Jeanette has been paid for. Any further time will be your own responsibility. Enjoy.”

Max slipped away, disappearing into the crowd as Jeanette held a graceful hand out in your direction.

You balked.

The crewmembers of the Ranger joked and complained that you were lucky, several of them offering to take your place. If only it were that simple. It was a master stroke. No red-blooded sailor would refuse time with a pretty woman in a tavern, especially if his time with her were to be free. Eleanor was trying to maneuver you into revealing your own secret.

“Captain?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound nearly as desperate as you felt as you glanced at Vane.

Murphy jeered. “He’s not your captain on shore, boy!” Vane shot him such a venomous glare that Murphy stared down at the table without offering another word.

“Go,” Vane ordered roughly. In a much lower voice, he added, “I’ll fix it.”

And he was gone too, disappearing into the crowd. You stared after him, feeling rather like a child lost in an unfamiliar and frightening place.

“Don’t mind him, lad,” Benny said kindly. “He’s probably after a piece of his own.”

Elias stood from the table, stretching his back as he did so. “Think I’ll go do the same. Shore leave ain’t complete without some tail to make you feel relaxed.”

“Hop to it, boy,” Murphy told you, grinning broadly. “Unless you need some help makin’ sure you leave her properly fucked.”

You knew a lot about properly-fucked women, but being on this side had you at a loss.

However, you were left with no alternative, so you stood and took Jeanette’s hand. She wove her fingers through yours, using your shared grip to lead you through the room.

Jeanette moved confidently through the crowd, dancing through the masses as you followed clumsily behind her. Fear made your steps slow and graceless, your mind far too preoccupied to worry about your body.

What would the pirates do when they discovered your ruse? Surely, they would react poorly. Like Eleanor had so kindly mentioned, most sailors believed that having a woman aboard a ship brought terribly bad luck. Would they remove you from the Ranger permanently? Would they kill you outright? Or would they simply abandon you to the shores of Nassau, leaving you to find your own way there without another moment of rough kindness or brotherly teasing?

The mere thought made your stomach twist. Or perhaps that was your sudden proximity to the staircase.

Jeanette’s pace slowed considerably when you reached the stairs. At first, you thought it was because of her shoes, but a downward glance proved her to be bare-foot. The only reasoning you could infer was that she was giving the other women time to ply their own wares for when you had finished with Jeanette.

Scantily-clad women lined the staircase, lounging and chatting in a show of faux relaxation. They called their hourly rates to you, pairing them with lewd suggestions that made your face heat. The worst were the ones who reached out with graceful arms, offering to wrap them around you and stroking whatever they could reach. You managed to avoid most of them. With any luck, the few who encountered the long linen rectangle wrapped around your breasts would believe you were wearing a thick shirt.

Vaguely, you recognized that a woman had pulled Jeanette close. They seemed to whisper for a moment before they shared a long, worshipful kiss. The sight of their searching lips and wandering hands made your body begin to react, though you were thinking of Vane rather than either of the women standing before you.

At last, Jeanette broke away from the other woman, giving you a coy smile. “Pardon, lovey. Follow me.”

As if you had not been doing that very thing? You bit back impatience as you continued up the narrow staircase, brushing shoulders with a dazed-looking pirate on his way back down. Your temper was high, but it was a thin facade. You had not decided how to defuse the situation and time was growing short.

When you reached the top of the staircase, Jeanette opened a door and ushered you through. You stepped inside, observing the space with no small amount of curiosity. It was hardly what you had expected from the stories you had overheard in London. You had expected a dark, cavernous space, cramped and heavily perfumed.

Instead, the room was high-ceilinged and airy. The doors that led onto the small balcony were closed, but enough wind filtered through the shuttered windows that the room smelled of salt air and sunshine. The furnishings were opulent, far more ornate than you would have expected… until you noticed that they were shabby around the edges. Everything that surrounded the pirates of Nassau was a little shabby, and that familiar quality helped put you slightly more at ease. That feeling dissipated slightly as Jeanette closed the door, shutting you in the room together.

You half turned your head in an effort to watch Jeanette without being obvious. She gave you a small smile as she crossed the room, moving determinedly toward a folding screen set along one wall. That likely meant she would disrobe, and then you would have to do something. You were still uncertain of what exactly you would do. Fear and discomfort made it difficult for you to think.

Jeanette moved the panels of the screen aside, revealing a set of double doors set into the wall. She drew them open, stepping back to watch you, her amusement plain.

There was a moment of loaded silence, you and Jeanette watching each other, but a voice soon broke the tension: “Simon. Enter.”

You obeyed, stepping through the doorway before you had time to process that you had recognized the speaker. “Max.”

The door from Jeanette’s room had led into this one, the rooms connected only to each other. This room was as light-filled and airy as Jeanette’s, but almost twice the size. There was a large desk on one side of the room, facing the door you had not come through. Max was sitting behind it, clearly having paused in the middle of writing a letter to glance up at you.

The young madame smiled, a dimple appearing in her cheek like magic. “Please, sit. We will have company soon.”

You looked nervous when you sat down across from Max. You could feel the trepidation written across your own features, no matter how hard you tried to mask it. In an effort to hide what little you could, you chose not to speak.

As it happened, you were not given a choice. Max fixed you with a curious stare. “Tell me: was it you who found the discrepancy in the prices Eleanor Guthrie paid for the goods brought back on the Ranger?”

Lying seemed to be the wisest course of action, but it would do little good. Any of the crew would tell Max the same, so there was no need to be less than honest. “Yes, it was I.”

Max dipped her chin in a slow nod. “Miss Guthrie had to part with a significant amount of her profits or risk a riot. Nassau’s crews did not take kindly to hear of their own being cheated.”

“I told none other than the captain of my crew,” you replied, gaze even.

“Of course.” Max smiled then, bright and mischievous. “I found myself well entertained while she dealt with the trouble. For that inconvenience, I am willing to look the other way for the odd situation. Especially when doing so protects a marvelous secret.”

Clearly, she had ferreted out your secret. You were beginning to wonder if your disguise fooled anyone at all.

“I know no secrets,” you told her, lowering your chin to give her a look with more intensity. Men did not lift their chins when they argued, but lowered them for a deeper stare, a deeper voice, and greater protection. “And I have asked you no favors.”

There was a knock on the door and you tensed.

“You have not,” Max agreed, turning her attention to the door. “You may enter.”

With concentrated effort, you did not turn toward the door opening behind your chair. However, a well-placed mirror allowed you to watch as a familiar figure entered the room.

"Max," Jack Rackham greeted, offering a nod as he walked through the doorway.

Anne Bonny was just behind him, silent and graceful as a shadow as she slipped through the door. She scanned the room and, having found no threats, nodded to you and Max as well.

At last, Vane came in, closing the door behind himself. His focus was fixed on you, only you. He crossed to where you were sitting, looking more powerful than ever with tension coiled in his muscles.

"What the fuck is happening?" he demanded without preamble.

Max seemed unconcerned with Vane's lack of social graces. "Eleanor has discovered your little secret. Naturally, she will take her petty revenge where she can."

Vane growled. "Not me she going after."

"Did you expect another reaction?" Max asked, curious. A tilt of her head sent a chestnut spiral of hair brushing along her shoulder until it came to rest on the swell of her breast. Abruptly, you understood how she had become a madame so young. "You have taken a new lover. She could never allow such a thing."

"Hold on," Jack interjected. "The two of them aren't necessarily fucking just because we have a woman in disguise on the ship."

Anne snorted indelicately while Max gave Jack an arch look. "Not necessarily, but it is obvious for any who care to look."

"What are we going to do?" you asked. The pirates and prostitutes in the room were observing, not judging, but you would prefer not to have your private affairs discussed in such a public place.

There was a stilted pause as everyone in the room eyed each other.

"It is simple," Max told you. Oddly, you found her directness soothing. "You and Jeanette will return to her room. She will loudly and repeatedly compliment 'Simon' on his skill and size. When what remains of your hour has ended, you may leave. If anyone - including Eleanor - asks about the encounter, both Jeanette and myself will swear Simon is a man. Is this acceptable?"

Everyone looked to Vane. He looked at you. When you gave a nod, he returned it, the gesture taut with temper.

"And what do you intend to charge for these generous services?" Jack asked Max, crossing his arms in a clear attempt to look more threatening. Meanwhile, Vane was standing beside you - loose-limbed with his hand resting just touching your arm - and looked like the most dangerous person in the world.

Max smiled, an enigmatic expression. She tilted her head toward you. “We have already discussed payment. It has been settled.”

Vane frowned at you, but Max rose, beckoning you back toward Jeanette’s room. “Time is short. You must begin. Everyone else will wait in the tavern.”

“Like hell.” Vane’s growl was short, sharp, and unwavering. He had stood when you did, shadowing every step you took toward Jeanette and her bedroom.

“Charles…” Jack urged.

“Surely you can see that your presence would add nothing to the situation?” Max asked him. “This office must be visibly empty while the performance is going, and none other than ‘Simon’ may leave Jeanette’s room at the end of their shared hour. You in particular, Captain Vane, must be seen in the tavern the entire time they are gone. Eleanor will be watching for your reaction to this development just as she watched Simon’s reaction to her gift. Both of your lives will be far easier if Eleanor concludes that she was mistaken.”

Vane glowered at her, but stepped back, letting you continue forward alone. Jeanette gave you a kind smile and closed the door behind you both. Vane’s eyes burned into yours until the wooden panels of the door cut through your shared gaze.

The following half-hour was one of the most mortifying of your life - perhaps second in comparison to the first time Vane had stripped you, discovered your true identity, and pulled unimaginable pleasure from your confused body.

Jeanette was a masterful actress, moaning wantonly in a way that made your face burn. At her urging, you managed a few sharp groans and a particularly loud curse at a strategic moment. Jeanette’s compliments were as loud as they were lewd, and you could not decide whether it would be better or worse for them to have been overheard. At last, she prompted you to give a shout, one almost drowned out by her rapturous cry.

A part of your mind had withdrawn into itself in a bid for protection, and it wondered if you should be more vocal in your endeavors with Vane. Thankfully, you could not ponder it for long, because Jeanette was toying with your clothing.

Jeanette adjusted your belt, leaving it slightly looser than it had been, then misbuttoned one of your shirt buttons and tilted your hat to sit crooked atop your head. She pressed her fingers against your lips to swell them and - with your hesitant permission - gave a delicate bite against the side of your neck, leaving the mark clearly visible above your mussed collar.

You were sure to thank her as you left. You had no illusions about what any Nassau resident would do with such valuable information, but you would not jeopardize yourself by failing to be kind.

When you let yourself out of the door, Jeanette wound herself around your back, pressing a kiss to the mark she had left on your neck. You could feel that she was partially undressed, one bare breast visible to the tavern below. As you hurried down the stairs, you tugged your hat down, hoping to hide how flustered you felt.

Vane was the only one sitting at the table you had shared previously. All the other crewmembers of the Ranger must have found other ways to spend their time. You preferred not to think too deeply about how they were currently occupied.

You sat on a chair across from Vane, landing heavier than expected. Your knees were trembling a bit at the performance of it all, especially knowing that Eleanor Guthrie was likely watching you. Perhaps it had been a mistake to sit down with Vane at all. Perhaps the wiser choice would have been to go to the bar or find another group to sit with.

“Want to get out of here?” Vane asked. Started from your thoughts, you took a moment to nod. “We can’t leave together. I’ll go wait by the beach. You have a drink and meet me in ten minutes.”

You made a face at the tankard he slid your direction. “Do I have to drink it?”

Vane watched you for a moment, uncomprehending, before mirth slid through his expression. “Do as you like.” For the second time that day, you watched him walk away.

The next ten minutes passed agonizingly slowly. Eleanor made another appearance in the tavern, making her way slowly from table to table. Fortunately, there seemed to be a problem with the seal at the bottom of your tankard, and you only had to fight through a few mouthfuls of rancid ale before the pewter was empty. You pretended to drain the tankard, slamming it onto the table and standing before Eleanor could reach you.

The unsteadiness of your gait probably came off like you were an inexperienced young man who had just had his first sexual encounter. You hoped so. However, the true cause was that your nerves seemed to grow taut under the attentive blue gaze of Eleanor Guthrie.

When you rounded the corner away from Guthrie’s, a weight seemed to lift from your shoulders. You had survived an encounter with Vane’s ex-lover, the woman whose presence loomed larger than any other in his past. What you had done was finished, and there was nothing left but to see if she believed the ruse.

Vane was waiting exactly where you hoped he would, and you fell into step as he led you onto one of the island’s most remote beaches. There, tucked between a collection of rocks and a small copse of palm trees, was a tent.

The canvas along the sides of the tent was tattered, leaving his belongings coated with a thick layer of sand, but the canvas above you was unmarred. It would keep out the worst of the rain, and Vane cleaned the hammock efficiently by turning it upside down and giving a hard shake. There was a crate of alcohol to be dusted off and a collection of stubby candles that begged to be freed from the sand, but nothing that needed immediate attention.

“Did she speak to you?”

Vane never gave a name, but you were not confused. He was speaking of Eleanor. There was no one else he could have meant. “No.”

“She should never have involved you,” Vane spat out, approaching closer behind you. “She and I were-”

“I know,” you interrupted. In the stunned silence, you turned to eye him in skeptical amusement. “Your crew talks, as do the islanders. I know what you were to each other, and I know how relations have changed between you. There is nothing you must explain.”

Vane was taken aback, watching you with confusion on his handsome face. Then it shifted to something darker, yet far more welcome. When he took your mouth in a hard, demanding kiss, you were ready. You gave and demanded in turn, meeting him with fervor. His hands wandered your body, noting your mussed collar, misbuttoned shirt, and too-loose belt. The belt worked in his favor, as a single firm tug dropped your trousers to the sand.

“We- We need to be careful,” you panted, scarcely managing to speak. “Anyone could run across us here.”

“Stop?” he managed, even if it was muffled against your neck.

The idea nearly drew a whine from you. “Not if we can be sure no one will see us.”

Vane stilled, holding his position for long enough that you could feel your bodies pulsing against each other. “Trust me.”

You did, completely, and allowed him to maneuver you into a different position. In the end, you found yourself on hands and knees on a blanket spread over the sand. It was a compromising position - though you still wore your shirt, the entirety of your rear end was exposed to Vane’s gaze. And other things.

The position was unfamiliar. You and Vane tended toward eye contact when you were together. It did not escape your notice that you had seen dogs and livestock coupling this way. Your face burned with humiliation at the reminder that you were nothing more than an animal. Even as you thought crossed your mind, you shifted your weight eagerly. The heat in your face was matched with heat elsewhere as your body bloomed for him.

A soft thump from behind you was your sole warning before Vane pressed himself against your exposed sex. You gasped, glancing back to find that he had unfastened his breeches only far enough to pull his cock free.

“And if- if someone sees us?” you asked.

“If they do, they’ll think I’m fucking your ass.”

The idea made your body tighten, though not entirely unpleasantly. “That is an improvement?”

“The world thinks you are a man,” Vane reminded you. “A captain fucking a crewmate… Not good, but not uncommon.”

You digested that silently, jaw dropping when Vane pressed his length along your seam. He felt much larger at that angle. “Or do you want to stop?”

You shook your head, but Vane remained still. He wanted a verbal answer. “I don’t want to stop. Please…”

Vane replied to you. He did, but it was so low and so incredibly deep that you could not begin to understand. However, the way he shifted made the head of him slip against you in a way that detailed his intentions as clearly as any words.

Some combination of the position, the kissing, and the general events of the day had left you wet and ready for him. That was lucky, since Vane sheathed himself in you, using only two long strokes to spear to your very core.

He stilled when he was fully inside of you, both of you panting. You found yourself surprised that he had stopped - you could feel the way your body was gripping him, and the strength of it was likely just this side of torture. It was the same for you. Being on your knees with him behind you allowed him far deeper than you were accustomed to, and you could hardly breathe with the intensity of it.

“Fuck,” Vane spat, and you might have been offended if he had not been throbbing so hard inside of you. It helped when he leaned forward to brush a kiss over your shoulder blade, the shifting of him inside of you took both of your breath away. “How does it feel for you?”

“I-” Your voice was so breathless that it startled you. “I need…”

You pawed uselessly at your breasts, still confined beneath your shirt and the cloth you used to contain them. The intrusion of Vane’s length was teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, your body struggling to surface in the ocean of sensations assaulting your system.

“I know,” Vane said simply, instantly soothing you as he reached between your legs. The angle was trickier than you had expected, but he found and parted your folds with ease. Gentle upward strokes brought the liquid drenching him up to the top of your slit, and let him rub that small, sensitive pearl without irritation.

It should have felt shameful for him to hold such mastery over your body, but all you felt was relief. Vane had you writhing into the palm of his hand in only moments. The iron press of him had turned from a source of strain to a promise of pleasure, and you canted your hips backward to press him more firmly inside of yourself.

Vane choked out another curse, hips kicking helplessly toward you. His fingers convulsed against you, pressing your clit nearly to the point of pain. That sweet bite matched the pleasure-pain of him stretching you, and you moaned.

“Please,” you forced out. “Please fuck me.”

Strong fingers sank into your hips, holding you steady as Vane began to move against you. Each thrust was brutal, devastating. His length seemed to stretch impossibly far, and an eternity passed in every cycle of pulling from your body only to push back in. The collisions between your bodies shook you both, making you sway your weight on your hands. Vane’s iron grip kept you in place at first, but his goal soon shifted toward urging you into a counter-thrusting pattern.

Each of those collisions seemed to strike at the very heart of you. The head of Vane’s length delivered a glancing blow to that sweet place inside of you every few strokes, and the pleasure was so intense that you found it impossible to keep supporting your weight on your shaking arms. You scarcely managed to lower yourself onto the sand-covered blanket rather than collapse weakly onto the lean padding.

It was a pose even less dignified than your last, and yet it offered still more benefits. Your trembling arms were relieved of your weight, your lower position allowed you more leverage to spear yourself onto Vane, and - most importantly - the new angle meant that he ground against your most sensitive place with every stroke.

You found yourself hanging over the edge in only moments. You were so close to utter joy, but you needed something more. “Vane, please. Touch me.”

“I am,” he ground out.

It was a fair point. His large hands cupped against the curve of your hips, occasionally traveling upward to your waist or downward to your ass. Your breasts were doubly held away from him, by virtue of your binding cloth and the way they were pressed firmly into the sand. And the frantic closeness of your coupling denied him access to your clit.

And yet, despite all of the logical thoughts you could summon, you could only repeat, “Vane, please. I’m so close. Touch me. Please please, please.”

“You don’t know-”

“Vane!”

He slammed into you and you pushed forward, bunching the blanket in the sand. That was your first realization that he had pulled a hand from his bracing grip on your hips. There was no warning at all before the broad pad of his thumb had planted itself firmly between your cheeks, pressing down on your rear entrance.

If you had thought your position undignified, this was far more so. That was forbidden, taboo, and dishonorable. Perhaps that was why you found it so thrilling. The feeling was new and unfamiliar, but certainly compelling.

Vane dug in harder. You realized that he was holding his thumb with the tip well away from that virgin loop of muscle. He was providing pressure without the risk of truly breaching you.

Just as you were beginning to think that you would not object if he were to breach you, the combination of such overwhelming sensation combined into one glorious, blinding rush. You cried out, hoping fervently that you were alone on the remote beach. There was no other interpretation of that noise than a woman overwhelmed by pleasure.

When you locked down around him, Vane’s hands flew back to your hips. He held you as still as he could manage with your spasms, thrusting frantically into you as he bit back a litany of noises from between clenched teeth. Just as your pleasure was beginning to ebb, he pulled free and emptied himself onto the sand.

Your opinion of this new position was high, and lifted still farther when Vane did not pull himself free before collapsing onto the sand. Your rear end was pressed into the hollow between his hips and thighs, his softening length buried inside of you.

Your thoughts were drifting slowly through the empty expanse of your mind. You felt blissfully detached from your body until Vane gently brushed away a bead of sweat from your brow. You smiled, knowing he would see the expression from the curve of your cheek, and kissed his palm. You tugged his hand down then, cupping it to your still-bound breast. Vane did not seem to object to the layers of cloth between you, and settled into place with a drowsy sigh.

He dropped into sleep almost immediately, and you followed closely behind. Your last conscious thought was that you could see the waves washing onto the sunset shore of Nassau through the torn canvas of Vane’s tent. He had truly found a small patch of paradise there, and you were honored to share it with him.

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Author's Note - In case this is your first introduction to this particular pair, just be warned that this story was written as an homage to classic "bodice ripper"-style romance novels. Accordingly, Part Two is a little violent and Part One is very dubcon. Warnings are listed on individual chapters, but I don't want anyone blindsided.

Thanks for reading!

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the-house-of-auditore-frye · 1 year

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So I want to apologise in advance for the thirst posts of Charles Vane from AC4 that are going to appear in your dashboard. Please don't be startled if a bunch of posts thirsting over a pirate appear😅

#charles vane #Charles Vane AC4 #charles vane x reader #ac4 #ac4 black flag #assassin's creed #assassin's creed black flag #assassin's creed iv: black flag #assassin's creed 4 #charles vane ac4

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meerawrites · 11 months

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Introduction to writeblr

Hello I am Meera S (they/them), I am a speculative fiction writer, writer of historical fiction and more, all of it is queer centric and with person of global majority (colour) angle. Please interact with this post and I shall add you back to the best of my ability!

about my writing

I’ve been writing and fan fictioning since I was 10. I started my first novel a little over a year ago, I am editing it in a month. I gravitate towards the gothic and historical but I am not gonna limit myself to that. I also write short stories, fic and poetry.

1. Vampires, witches, werewolves, ghosts, and more, oh my!: I love me some monsters and allegories that are multilayered, just not zombies.

2. Fantasy and gothic, I write about the human through the inhuman, Anne Rice once said vampire was the most poignant allegory for outcast and other-ness.

3. The historical. You have to know the past to understand the present and future. Ancient History through 1920s and all of South Asian history and mythology.

4. Diversity: I am a queer south asian person but I do earnestly try for informed diverse world views that are nuanced and sympathetic even if not “moral” because vampire, etc.

about me

read here.

fandoms: read here. go here for fandom stuff. Here for history. Here for fic. Role-play masterlist.

Influences: Anne Rice, Oscar Wilde, Octavia Butler, Indu Sundaresan, @writingvampires, @elisaintime, Silvia Moreno Garcia and @saintmachina.

what i'm looking for

1. Friends and cool people.

2. eventual beta readers/editors.

3. Other writers.

4. people who know people etc.

genres i read

I gravitate towards the gothic and historical, but anything well written and I think worthwhile.

Just finished: Good Omens, Lasher by Anne Rice, catching up with Dracula daily . also following @re-dracula.

Immediately going to read: Taltos by Anne Rice, The Vampire Lestat by Anne Rice, Common Sense by Thomas Paine, and the memoir of Benjamin Tallmadge (the memoir is only 75 pages long so..)

WIPS

Presently unamed, editing in a month: What if Sibyl Vane was too haunt Dorian Gray? Heavily inspired by Wilde’s poetry, Emilie Autumn, steampunk, the allegory of ghosts as the inescapable past popularized by Charles Dickens in A Christmas Carol. As well as the folklore of banshees, avenging angels & La Llorona. More here. Playlist.

Pending: novella: les liaisons dangereuses x vampires. Playlist.

Pleasure to make your acquaintance!

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deadguydeathmatch · 1 year

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Welcome to the Dead Guy Death Match Elimination Round!

Due to the broad nature of death as a concept, most of the submitted characters only received a few votes each causing a massive tie. I figured the fairest way to sort out this issue would be to hold an elimination round to let you guys vote on who you want to make it into the bracket.

There will be two elimination rounds the first of which will start on Monday the 3rd of April at 3pm BST and the second will start on Saturday the 8th of April at 3pm BST.

Elimination Round 1 will feature polls of 5 or 6 unrelated characters (all of the matchups were generated randomly) for you to vote on. The lowest voted character will be eliminated and all of the remaining options will progress to the bracket.

Elimination Round 2 will feature polls of differing numbers of characters from the same or similar media and only the highest ranked character among them will progress to the bracket, all of the others will be eliminated.

Both sets of polls will last 24 hours.

I've tried my best to only include official images for all of the characters on the polls but I'm not familiar with every series listed so, when the polls go up, if you notice I've used a fanart or cosplay image without permission or credit please let me know and I'll add credit and correct it for any future appearances of that character.

The matchups are listed under the read more and hyperlinked to the polls

I apologise if I’ve accidentally spelled something wrong or used a wrong name for something, I’m not familiar with every series listed.

There will be spoilers for many series ahead.

Round 1-

Poll 1-

Leif- Bug Fables

Claire Foley- Professor Layton

Magne- My Hero Academia

Koki Kariya- The World Ends With You

Matsuri Kanroji- Demon Slayer

Tiso- Hollow Knight

Poll 2-

Polly Geist- Monster Prom

Beetlejuice- Beetlejuice

Kim Namwoon- Omnicient Reader’s Viewpoint

King Arthur- King Arthur

Chidi Anagonye- The Good Place

Duncan- Dragon Age

Poll 3-

Breakdown- Transformers

Varl- Horizon

Captain Orimar Vale- Skyjacks Podcast

Deep Throat- The X-Files

Connor Murphy- Dear Evan Hansen

Poll 4-

Catherine Earnshaw- Wurthering Heights

Johannes Cabal- Horst Cabal

Mr Boddy- Clue

Galivar Kholin- Stormlight Archive

Seth Gordon- All For The Game

Poll 5-

Jay Gatsby- The Great Gatsby

Billy Loomis- Scream

Esmeralda- The Hunchback of Norte Dame Novel

Kili- The Hobbit

Charles Vane- Black Sails

Poll 6-

Ned Stark- Game of Thrones

Hua Cheng- Heaven’s Official Blessing

Skelly- Hades

Nate- Levarage

Owen Carvour- Spies Are Forever

Poll 7-

Andre Grandier- Rose Of Versailles

Ash Lynx- Banana Fish

Jade Irinka- Chuubo’s Marvelous Wish Granting Engine

Hugo Oak- Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts

Evelyn Hooper- Less is Morgue

Poll 8-

Pandora Hearts- Xerxes Break

Bow- Inanimate Insanity

Sam Cortland- Throne of Glass

Matoro- Bionicle

Tigerstar- Warrior Cats

Poll 9-

Deadman- DC Comics

Bunny Corcoran- The Secret History

Adam Faulkner-Stanheight- Saw

Tobias Tattersall Hawthorne- The Inheritance Games

La Signora- Genshin Impact

Poll 10-

Erik- The Phantom of the Opera

Diggory Graves- Hello from the Hallowoods

Max- Sam and Max

Nicholas D Wolfwood- Trigun

Pip Pirrip- South Park

Poll 11-

Pedro Madrigal- Encanto

Midori- Your Turn To Die

Charles Foster Kane- Citizen Kane

Rufus Emeterio- They Both Die at the End

Tuuri- Stand Still Stay Silent

Poll 12-

Manny Calavera- Grim Fandango

Howard Hamlin- Better Call Saul

Tanya McQuoid- White Lotus

Diallos Hoslow- Elden Ring

Sayaka Miki- Puella Magi Madoka Magica

Poll 13-

Meiji “Menma” Honma- Anoha: The Flower We Saw That Day

Chiyoko Fujiwara- Millenium Actress

Mari- Omori

Simon Karin- Pathologic

Lee Everett- The Walking Dead

Poll 14-

Rachel Amber- Life is Strange

Jason Grace- Riordanverse

Violet Harmon- American Horror Story

Vylad Ro’Meave- Minecraft Diaries

Chara- Undertale

Poll 15-

River Song- Doctor Who

Queen Serenity- Sailor Moon

Sliver of Straw- Rain World

Manny- Swiss Army Man

Mr Nobody- Transistor

Poll 16-

Shizu- Slime Tensei

Michael Afton- Five Nights at Freddy’s

Neil Perry- Dead Poet’s Society

Silhouette- Watchmen comics

Garret Jacob Hobbs- Hannibal

Poll 17-

Junpei Yoshino- Jujitsu Kaisen

Okudera- Yakuza 5

Shinichiro Sano- Tokyo Revengers

Yuri Nakamura- Angel Beats

Emily- Corpse Bride

Round 2-

The Owl House-

Flapjack

Caleb Wittebane

Star Wars-

Kanan Jarrus

Obi Wan Kenobi

Fives

Torchwood-

Owen Harper

Ianto Jones

Ace Attorney-

Mia Fey

Deid Mann

Critical Role-

Laudna

Mollymauk Tealeaf

Star Trek-

Jennifer Sisko

Spock

Tasha Yar

Hamlet-

Hamlet

Ophelia

Dracula-

Quincey Morris

Dracula

Marvel-

Loki

Tony Stark

Natasha Romanoff

Final Fantasy-

Haurchefant

Aerith Gainsborough

Ysale Dangulain

The Last Of Us-

Joel Miller

Sarah Miller

Riley Abel

The Vampire Diaries-

Nora Hildegard

Stefan Salvatore

Klaus Mikaelson

Avatar: The Last Airbender-

Avatar Kyoshi

Avatar Roku

Jet

Hatoful Boyfriend-

Nageki Fujishiro

Ryuuji Kawara

Black Butler-

Grelle Sutcliffe

Angelina Dalles

How To Train Your Dragon-

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock 2

Stoick The Vast

Les Miserables-

Gavroche Thenardier

Eponine Thenardier

Supernatural-

John Winchester

Castiel

Buffy The Vampire Slayer-

Jenny Calender

Tara Maclay

Arcane-

Silco

Vander

Infinity Train-

Tuba

Simon Laurant

Sally Face-

Sal Fisher

Larry Johnson

Ghosts-

Pat Butcher

Pete Martino

#Elimination Round #Elimination Round 1 #Elimination Round 2 #Tournament Updates #Tournament Dates #For the sake of my sanity I'm not going to tag every spoiler and series on this post but i will on the polls #dead characters #spoilers

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bullet-prooflove · 2 years

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Married to Edward Teach (Edward Teach x Reader)

- You are his last wife. By now Edward has come to realise that he cannot bear an heir and with Charles Vane back under his wing, the matter is now resolved. You are different from his other wives; you are fierce and passionate and just as ferocious as he is. You’ve done what needs to be done to survive and you do not shy away from it.

- The first man who tried to touch you aboard the ship got his fingers cut off, the second man his cock.

- His crew are somewhat attached to you, since encountering them on the ship you have helped them to write letters to their sweethearts, to family members.

- You read to them when they are injured and console them through their loses. You have even taught a few of them their letters.

- You help negotiate with whores for the crew. One tries to sneak into the tent of your husband, and you are quick to warn her off with a knife. You understand her instructions to try to seduce and gain information, so you give her a snippet, the wrong snippet and send her on her way. She spreads the word for you. Afterwards Edward gives you that knowing smile and asks if you are spreading misinformation again, you remind him that’s what you do best.

- When you are captured, Jack asks Edward if you will betray them, Edward responds that he’s more concerned about you dying to protect their secrets. You both cast a glance at Anne and that is one thing they acknowledge they have in common. Their women are made of tempered steel, they are forged by the fires of the hardships that have they have endured.

- You were loyal to a fault and the scars on your back prove it.

- You were whipped within an inch of your life, tortured for information but you still did not betray Edward or his men.

- When Edward came for you, you were a mess. He was appalled by the horrors of what had been done to you, but he could still see that strength burning deep down inside of you. You are still strong, still his.

- He lets his men see what had been done for you, that you have bled for both him and them.

- It is you that maims the man that tortured you.

- You shoot him in the kneecaps and make sure that he is shackled. It is you that douses him in rum, you take the torch and set him alight.

- It is you that stands there with no expression, eyes on his face and listening to his screams and watching him burn.

- Sometimes at night Edward runs his fingers over the scars on your back. He remembers that you have killed for him and that you would have died for him. The memories made his drive to protect you even more ferocious.

- With you Edward remembers the man he is. He’s not a legend or a monster, he’s simply Edward.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#edward teach #edward teach x reader #blackbeard x reader #black sails

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emmaelix · 2 years

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Rules of Engagement for requests + My Fandoms

I am in the following Fandoms and will write x readers for most of the characters:

My Hero Academia

Marvel

The Medoran Chronicles

The Original Teen Titans

The Dragon Prince

Cradle

Avatar: The Last Airbender

Percy Jackson

Time Princess

I will write for these ships:

IzuOcha

Todomomo

KiriBaku

KiriMina

OjiToru (Ojiro and Hagakure, I couldn't remember their ship name)

Erasermic

Hot Wings

AsuiYami (Also known as The Animals, at least to me)

KamiJirou

Stucky

WinterWidow

Clintasha

Stironnigan

Kailex

Jordix

Bleera

Bbrae

Robstar

Rayllum

Ruthari

Yerindon

Kataang

Tokka

Sukka

Suko (Suki and Zuko as an explanation for Tokka)

Maiko

Percabeth

Solangelo

Frazel

Jiper

Asha x Yazdan

Huo Shao x Gu Yunting

Charles Vane x Cordelia Delamare

Marie Antoinette x Louis XVI (And only Louis)

Honda Itsuki x Alina Alessandrova

DUTP craziness, to be honest

Keats x Cordelia Delamare in the event of Vane's untimely death

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whenimaunicorn · 3 years

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Stealing Kisses - A Charles Vane Imagine

Prompts: I combined @m0nsterbrains‘s request for “lap-sitting smooches” with a very old suggestion I was given for the Reader as “ that one barmaid that won’t sleep with anyone until she’s ready to make an exception for our handsome captain” Words: 1269

You're laughing and singing with the group of sailors that are hoping to get you to dance with them, but behind your smile you are already planning your retreat. There is an art to tending bar in a town like this; you want to provide good company without ever seeming to be promising more. The laughing men are drawing you through the room, but you’re going to veer off to the left as soon as you get past this row of tables, leaving them to continue carousing while you get back to work.

Your plans are interrupted by strong arms that wrap around your waist from the right, pulling you down. You squeal in protest, but the sound dies when you see who’s got you in his clutches—Charles Vane, one of the most notorious pirating captains in the islands.

It’s not fear, exactly, that silences your protest, although it’s certainly fear that causes your exuberant companions to back off and leave you alone; all Vane has to do is peer at them from under his heavy brows, and his reputation does all the rest.

“Didn’t expect to see you tonight, Captain Vane,” you say, shifting your hips in his lap when he doesn’t immediately let you up.

“The winds were favorable,” he says with characteristic terseness. The Ranger crew are fairly frequent visitors to your establishment, and you’ve developed a certain familiarity with their square-jawed captain. Perhaps even affection. Especially when he smiles up at you like this—for such a stoic, fearsome character, he has a remarkably boyish smile. And you feel like you might be one of the only people in the world that gets to see it, seeing as you’re the woman who delivers him the drink that puts him such cheerful moods.

“Shall I fetch you a cup?” you offer, but Vane’s arm, wrapped snugly around your waist now, only tightens.

“In a moment.”

Your heart beats a little faster. Captain Vane is one of the only men that you allow to flirt with you even this much, and you can’t exactly say why you do. There isn’t really a strategic value in letting him hold you snug in his lap like this; you’re sure his coin would spend the same either way. Perhaps it does cut down on how hard the other sailors try to woo you, when a man with such a violent reputation is clearly the only one you ever allow to put hands on you in even such a small way as this.

But that’s not the whole reason. This fluttering in your chest, the way being in his arms makes your limbs feel languid and your belly warm . . . he does something to you that no other man here ever has.

“What . . .” you ask, finding yourself somewhat hypnotized by his eyes, “what did you want first?”

“We brought in a good prize,” he says. “The men are all out celebrating.” Indeed, you see part of his crew seated down the long table, boisterous and demanding top-shelf bottles from some of the other serving girls. “But as we came in to port, there was only one thing I found myself looking forward to.”

His fingers tighten against your ribs, a possibly involuntary little flexing. Your hands are on his shoulders; they haven’t moved since they landed there in your initial effort to ward off whoever had dared to pull you down into their lap. They’re not pushing him away, now. “What was that?” you ask, although you already know, don’t you, and if he was any other man you’d be heading this conversation off before he can even say it.

“You.”

You’re taken aback by the simplicity of it; you’re used to honeyed words, men trying entirely too hard to make their case, sway your mind, slip themselves in between the cracks in your defenses. But Captain Vane’s not one for all that. He just stares into your eyes and lets the word simmer.

His hand finds one of yours, lifting it from his shoulder and curling his fingers around yours. When you don’t resist, he brings your knuckles to his lips. You didn’t think the brute even knew how to be that polite. There’s still blood crusted on the thumb that’s stroking across the tingling place where his lips just warmed your skin.

When you meet his eyes again, they are almost twinkling at you from beneath his brow. “My men have grand plans for the night,” his gravelly voice rumbles, low and intimate, “but all I’m dreaming of is a kiss.”

You square your shoulders, even though you want to melt. “I don’t know if you know this, but I never let the men around here kiss me.”

“I do know that.” The corner of his lip twitches into a playful smile. “Who are you waiting for?”

You shrug, although there’s a bold answer begging to be spilled from your lips. You swallow that word down. “It’s bad business. Makes life more complicated.”

Vane smiles with his eyes while shaking his head. “I’m not talking about business.”

“Let a man into your bed, you’re asking for trouble. Especially a sailor. Especially a pirate.”

He leans in, and you don’t pull back. “I didn’t say anything about a bed.” There’s a boldness in his eyes, and you can’t tell if he’s saying he wasn’t suggesting more, or that he doesn’t consider a bedroom a requirement for the things he wants to do. When you don’t reply immediately, he continues. “I’ll settle for a kiss on the cheek, if that’s the only way I get to feel your lips on my skin.”

Heat stabs so suddenly between your legs that it’s hard not to squirm in his lap. You sneak a peek around, checking to see if anyone is watching you. You ignore the smirk that tugs at Vane’s lip.

The coast appears to be clear. You lean in impulsively, then pause with your mouth hovering above his cheek. You take a breath, inhaling his salt and tobacco scent, with a hint of something richer underneath that makes your toes curl.

As you brush your pursed lips across the coarse hair on his cheek, his hand slides up your back, fingers wide around the edges of your spine. The caress makes you shiver and lean in closer, your breast swelling with the force of your inhale. By God, this man is tempting.

You pull back from your gifted kiss, looking into his eyes, unable to will yourself to get up and off his lap. You did what he asked, you’re free to go, but your eyes travel to his mouth while his hand slides up the back of your neck. “Perhaps, one more exception?” he murmurs, eyelashes fluttering as he reads your face and leans in to capture your lips with his own.

His kiss is as bold as his reputation, but he waits for you to yield before pressing much advantage. You can’t remember why you hesitated now; this feels too damned good. You part your lips and let his grip on the back of your head guide you into a deeper, searching kiss.

Your face feels hot and fuzzy when you finally separate, although Vane’s eager arms don’t let you pull back very far. Your body tingles with an excitement that may be as unwise as it is undeniable.

“Let me get you that ale, now,” you coo.

“Only if you promise to come right back to my lap when all the cups are full.”

Send me more kisses!

My Black Sails masterlist

Taglist: @pleasemelafook-outta-ere @ladyhubris @summertimesadness101 @acebreathesfire @kind-wolf @23orso @itmeansofthesea @nerdybird @bitchyikes

#charles vane x reader #vane/reader #black sails fanfic #captain vane #kiss prompt

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banditthewriter · 3 years

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Oh my goodness Bandit! Can I get number fluffy 67 with Charles Vane?? Cause I think that will be delightful

Thank you dear! 67. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass.” and all the fluff for Charles Vane because he deserves it!

*gif not mine*

***

“We need to wait for more information. If we go in guns blazing without being sure what we’re getting into, we’ll just be sitting ducks.”

Charles looked over at you and then back at the map that Jack had sketched.

“If I don’t go in now, I might lose my window of opportunity.”

“But if we do in now, we’ll lose men and possibly our lives.”

He heaved a sigh and shifted his stance. It took you a moment to realize that he was preparing for a fight before he looked up at you.

“There’s no we. I’m going alone.”

“The hell you are,” you said calmly, as if the two of you were discussing the price of apples. “We do this together or not at all. That was the agreement.”

“I’ve changed the terms of our agreement. I do this alone, you stay safe in Nassau.”

You turned to Charles and crossed your arms over your chest. While he was still standing tense and prepared for a fight, you were completely at ease.

“We’re doing this together Charles. Do you want to know why?” At his curious look, you smiled even wider. “I love you. You enormously stubborn pain in the ass. I love you and because of that, I’m going to be with you when this happens. Nothing you say will change my mind.”

You could have knocked the dangerous pirate captain over with a feather. He looked stunned. After a moment it seemed your words fully caught up with him. His shoulders sagged a bit. Then he turned to look back down at the map.

“You and Anne can be in the second boat. Bring a pistol as well as your blade. And if I say to turn back–”

“I will turn back, as long as you are at my side.”

Charles huffed out a sigh, but you knew that it wasn’t out of anger or frustration. You were proved right as he reached out to brush his fingers against your cheek. It was such a soft touch full of all the things he wasn’t able to say.

“At your side,” he promised instead.

#charles vane #charles vane x reader #charles vane imagine #charles vane drabble #my writing #drabble #5k event

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phenomenal1500 · 9 months

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Now I’m finally almost done editing The Azblida | the 100 fic, I will start giving The Blood In My Veins | Black Sails a new story and writing style! I’m so excited to finally update it to my new writing abilities.

#black sails #charles vane x reader #charles vane x oc #oc #charles vane #captain charles vane #pirates #captain flint #James flint #the blood in my veins #Naida Jones

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somedaylazysomeday · 1 year

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Masterlist

While I'm still struggling to get individual works to show up in the tags, I think my shadowban may have been lifted. So here's the link to my updated masterlist:

SomedayLazySomeday's Masterlist

My fics are explicit and the vast majority contain sexual content. Use caution and mind the tags!

Speaking of tags! I'm tagging some of the characters and pairings I've written for below. Feel free to ask questions!

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the-house-of-auditore-frye · 1 year

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ATTENTION MUTUALS/FOLLOWERS: I will be spamming your dashboard with Charles Vane from AC4 pretty soon so in adavnce, I'm sorry about that... But not sorry enough to not spam you 😘

#charles vane #Charles Vane AC4 #charles vane x reader #ac4 #ac4 black flag #assassin's creed #assassin's creed black flag #assassin's creed iv black flag #assassin's creed 4 #Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag

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sweetashoneyhoney · 3 years

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Every book I have ever read has been dissolved and added to my personality in some way. I will forget ever reading the book but I will remember the feelings and it will have already left its mark.

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that-was-not-supposed-to-happen · 3 years

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🎄Hair Pulling🎄

warnings: 18+, smut, hair pulling @whenimaunicorn

“Get on the bed.” Charles growls, slamming the door to his cabin shut behind him. He makes a dissatisfied grunt, watching you get stretched out on the bed comfortably, “No. On your knees.”

You make a pouting face but he’s not impressed at your attempt to sway his mood. Maybe you had overstrained his patience for today. He walks closer with deliberate steps, not taking his eyes away from you for a second.

“Didn’t you hear me?” He crosses his arms before his chest as he reaches the front of his bed and stares down at you, “Or do you want me to teach you a lesson?”

You slowly comply, rolling to your side to get up into a kneeling position with your back turned to Charles. You feel the bed sink down under his weight as he crawls closer to you. His hand gently caresses your side, mouth pressed against your neck. You feel his breath tickling your skin, his tongue licking the side of your neck.

His other hand tangles in your hair, twirling locks around his fingers. He bunches them all up together and grabs them, pulling your head back forcefully. The sudden pain makes you yelp. His fingers dance up further the side of your waist, along your chest until he reaches your throat and squeezes until you moan out in pleasure.

He grins, whispering against your ear, “You’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment that much, little girl.”

“Don’t make it that enjoyable then.” You reach behind you, letting your hand glide along the length of his thighs.

“Oh?” He yanks your hair harder, neck bending backwards. You look up at him and bite your lip. A smile forms on your lips as you watch him. Riling up Charles always ended in the most delicious way.

He loosens the grip on your throat and brings his fingers up to your mouth. You open up, letting your tongue glide out while he pushes them inside. He pumps them in and out a few times before pulling away with a loud popping sound. His hand wanders down further. You feel his knee pushing your legs apart from behind. Charles pushes his hand between your legs, his fingers rubbing against your clit in quick little circles.

You moan at his touch and lean back further against his chest. He chuckles at your relaxed state, eyes closed and body rocking into his touch, “You’re getting too comfortable again.”

With a sudden movement his hand is gone, pushing you down into the bed with only your ass up in the air. One hand still pulls your hair back in a deliciously painful way.

He loosens his breeches quickly, pulling them down only enough for his cock to spring out. He lets it slide between your lips to spread the wetness before pushing inside all at once. You cry out at the sudden intrusion in a mix of discomfort and pleasure. You start moaning again when he moves, stretching you out with every hard thrust.

His movements become erratic quickly. He leans down further over you, covering your body with his. You hear him growling against your ear, a deep animalistic sound as you tighten around him and stutter his name.

He bites your neck, pushing his hard cock inside you a few more times. Every thrust makes the bed shake with force. You can feel the pulsing as he stills, out of breath with his heart beating rapidly.

He rolls onto his back and stretches his arm out for you. You don’t hesitate and roll up against his side. A warm island against the cold winter air that’s blowing around the ship. His fingers gently glide over your skin as you fall asleep beside him.

#charles vane x reader #charles vane imagine #black sails imagine #charles vane #black sails #christmas special #christmas 2020

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madyhatter381953 · 3 years

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Charles x Pregnant!Reader

Info: Eleanor find out Y/N is pregnant with Charles's child.

A/N: This is my fuck you Eleanor story so if you like her as a character this is probably not the one-shot for you.

Warnings: Language

○♡♡♡○

Y/N's P.O.V.

I had found out about the baby not long after Charles had set off on a voyage so I had spent the coming months keeping my pregnancy under the radar. I wanted the first person to know to be Charles. However it seemed within a day of his return EVERYONE knew! He was not quite as secretive as I was.

Eleanor's P.O.V.

Rumours were the best way to keep tabs on what was going on in Nassau. And recently there had been murmurs of Y/N baring Charles's child.

I have had Charles around my finger for years! How had this happened? I didn't even know he had been interested in her!

I paced around my room. As much as I hated it Charles was essential to keeping Nassau running under my name. He was feared and fear was an important tool.

Charles's P.O.V.

"Charles!" My attention dragged away from the map that lay sprawled across my desk.

"Jack.' I regarded the dishevelled man who had barged in.

"Ms. Guthrie wants to see you. And she does not look pleased." His face visibly scrunched and I knew news of the baby must have reached her.

"When is she ever?" I sighed and got to my feet tossing the pen in my hand off to the side. It took a while to get from the ship to the main street but secretly I wished it had taken longer. I knew there was no way she had taken the news well so as I climbed the steps to her office I hoped she wouldn't be in. I swung the doors open not bothering to knock and to my disappointment Eleanor was seated at the big wood desk with a startled expression plastered on her face from my abrupt entrance.

"Charles." Her breath came out airy and I couldn't help the internal sigh.

"Eleanor." I regarded her wearily as she made her way around the desk.

"I heard a rumour the other day. It was brought to my attention that Y/N seems to be baring you child." Here we go. She invaded my personal space pressing her hands against my chest.

"That would be correct." I tried to suppress the grin as I stepped away.

"WhAt??? I mean..." Her facade slipped for a moment but she recovered quickly.

"But wasn't she sleeping with Mr. Silver while you were away?" The statement caught me off guard and Eleanor took the chance to step back into my personal space.

"You hadn't heard? I mean sh-" She was cut off as the door to her office swung open.

Y/N's P.O.V.

"But wasn't she sleeping with Mr. Silver while you were away?" Oh that slimy, manipulative bitch! I felt the anger boiling inside. I had been coming to get Charles for lunch when Jack had told me he had gone to a meeting with Eleanor.

"You hadn't heard? I mean sh-" NOPE! I flung the door open and stormed in. I saw Eleanor visibly cringe as I sent her the nastiest look I could muster.

"I DID NOT SO MUCH AS LOOK AT MR. SILVER!" I screamed slapping the blond across the face as Charles backed away with a Cheshire Cat grin looking between Eleanor and I.

"Look Y/N-" I cut her off as she stuttered to come up with something to say.

"DON'T YOU 'LOOK Y/N' ME! KEEP YOUR STICKY PAWS OFF MY MAN!" I saw red as I spun on my heel grabbing Charles by the shirt collar and hauling him out of a shocked looking blonds office. As we turned the corner I felt him push me up against the wall and bury his face into my neck.

"I've never been more attracted to you than I am right now." His voice was low and animistic as he bit down on the soft skin of my neck.

"I should hope so and I don't plan to make a habit of shouting at your exes." I smiled as I cursed the hormones and how fast I could go from fuming to practically melting into the man before me.

"Mmmm tell your boss you wont be going back to work today. You're coming with me." He swung an arm over my shoulder steering me out of the tavern and down the road to the small house I called home. I knew exactly what he had in mind... so I quickened our pace.

End

#pregnant #pregnancy #charles vane x reader #charles vane #black sails #fanfiction #fanfic #movies #writers on tumblr #television #series #reader input #reader insert

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angst-fairygodmother · 3 years

Text

On His Knees (Charles Vane x fem!Reader)

Your new captaincy comes with self-doubt, and Charles Vane proves to you just how well you can take command.

A/N: Oops, I tripped and this got waaaay kinky. Like, definitely rivals and probably beats my Kinktober stuff. But let’s be real, Charles Vane deserves the good shit.

Word Count: 2617

Rating: E(xplicit), very

Content Warnings: dirty talk, praise kink, begging, oral (fem receiving), hair pulling, biting/marking, beard burn, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, reference to bondage

Cross-posted to AO3

Taglist: @vice-versa-vane

The door closed heavily, and though you didn’t move to face him yet, you knew it was Charles entering your cabin. No one else would be so boldly presumptuous. The bolt clicked home, ensuring it would remain just the two of you.

“It’s Captain now, then?” he asked, though he already knew the answer. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think his gravelly tone was impressed.

Turning slowly, you leaned against the edge of your desk and folded your arms over your chest. The motion drew his eyes down before they flicked back to your face.

“Temporarily at least,” you acknowledged.

He scowled. “Mutiny’s rumbling?”

Your laugh was sharp, short, and bitter. “No. But I’m a woman in a man’s role. More than half of them think it, not to mention certain powers in Nassau. It’s only a matter of time before one of them decides to put me in my place, that I don’t have the…” you waved a hand vaguely, at a loss for the word you wanted.

“The balls?” A faint smirk of amusement followed the offering.

You rolled your eyes. “Physically or metaphorically. But I wasn’t going to put it that bluntly. Being in charge requires a...dominating personality. Doesn’t it?”

He had a way of putting you at ease, of making you want to drop the wall of spikes you constantly surrounded yourself with and admit your doubts, want to be vulnerable. Perhaps it came from the fact that he was one of the few in Nassau to treat you with respect as an equal, despite your gender, accepted your ability to hold your own. Or the way those ice chip eyes seemed to see right through you, leaving you bare and without secrets.

He stepped closer, invading your space and towering over you. There was a question in his look and your body answered it without prompting, leaning into him like a magnetic pull. One of his large, calloused hands cupped the side of your head gently.

“A spirit you have,” he rumbled, still smirking, breath tickling your face, “if I recall.”

You flushed hotly, remembering the last time you and he had the opportunity to be this close, the way he had writhed and pleaded beneath your fingers, bound to your will and your headboard.

“That’s not the same,” you snapped, averting your gaze, “at all.”

He laughed, and you felt warmth pooling in your stomach, knowing that you were one of the only people to ever hear him do that.

“You are one of the fiercest fucking pirates to sail these waters,” he said firmly, drawing your eyes back to meet his. “And any man stupid enough to cross you deserves whatever shallow grave he gets.”

“Charles...don’t do that. Don’t pick fights for me, or suggest fights for me.”

“I wasn’t. I don’t need to.”

His lips finally found yours, before you could say anything else, pressing harder and deeper with every second that passed. Your arms unfolded, clutching at his shoulders as he leaned you back, the sharp edge of the wood digging into your backside.

“Charles,” you whined softly as he broke from the kiss to roam across your skin, stubble scratching as he mouthed at your jaw and the sensitive pulsepoint of your neck. “Please.”

You hated how needy you sounded, hated that any man, even him, could make you beg. But you wanted him, badly, and knew that it was only a matter of time before something would demand the attention of one or both of you on deck once more.

He hummed, all too pleased with himself, and hushed you, hot breath sending shivers down your spine before he sucked the spot between his teeth. Your knees buckled as the action brought blood rushing to the surface, just beneath the thin layer of skin, and pleasure shot through you. He was quick to catch you, hands dropping to your hips to hold you up as he journeyed lower across your body. Teeth skimmed deliciously across your collarbone where it peaked from beneath your shirt.

Then suddenly the contact was gone and the cotton material was being yanked over your head.

“Fuck, you are beautiful,” he growled, palming one of your now-exposed breasts and fixing his lips harshly to your other nipple.

You arched against him, every touch making you crave more.

“Yes,” you moaned breathlessly as he rolled his tongue around the erect peak, laving and sucking at it. “Oh, yes, please…”

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured against your chest. “I’m yours to command, Captain.”

Something in the way he said your new title, the promise of whatever you wanted that he could give, sent another wave of pleasure through you, dampening your undergarments and making you shudder. You could feel his smirk, and you hated it. He was giving you control for the moment, but he knew that really you belonged to him.

“Anything. Everything. You,” you panted hazily, unsure what you were even asking for. “You make me feel so good, Charles, please.”

Your words drew a groan from his throat and now it was your turn to smirk. Slowly he continued his journey down your body, every inch of your skin mapped by tongue and teeth, alternating kisses and bites which made you hiss and stoked the flames of your desire. Your fingers tangled into his long locks, tugging at them as he drew nearer and nearer the waist of your trousers. The noises he made which mingled with your moans and whines were nothing short of sinful.

He stilled as he reached your hips, rocking back on his heels and looking up at you with hooded eyes.

“Well that’s a sight I never thought I’d see,” you purred. “Charles Vane on his knees. But what a pretty picture it paints.”

His Adam's apple bobbed noticeably as he swallowed, your words tightening the tent of his trousers.

“Oh you like that? When I tell you how good you look, how good you make me feel?” you grinned teasingly at him, tongue poking out between your teeth. “Shall I say it again? My pretty pirate.”

The possessive made him whine your name, the unexpected sound needy and desperate, sending a spark of shock and delight through you.

“Tell me what you want from me,” he begged, head still tilted back by your hand in his hair.

You withdrew your hand, far from gentle, enjoying the way his breath hitched with the tug.

“Strip for me, Charles,” it was a question, more than order, but still he jumped to do as he was told.

You watched him hungrily as his shirt was tossed aside, revealing the hard, solid planes and rippling muscles that made him one of the most fearsome sights on the ocean. And yet here he was, scrambling to undo the button of his pants, leaping to follow your every instruction. It was a special kind of power and made your head spin drunkenly. Not wanting to waste any time, you shimmied off the rest of your own clothes and boosted yourself up, sitting on your desk, legs spread invitingly.

“I want your mouth, Charles,” you purred.

It seemed no more than a blink before he was knelt between your knees. But Charles was still Charles, and for all he was under your sway, he still maintained some combative nature. He kissed and nipped at the inside of your thighs, beard rubbing deliciously against the tender flesh and sure to leave reddened marks, mouth everywhere but where you needed it most.

“Stop teasing me,” you demanded, yanking harder on his hair, guiding his face to where it belonged.

“Yes, Captain.” He smirked at the way you shuddered, hot breath a rush of sensation against your damp core and the title another heady rush of power.

His hands circled your thighs, reverent in their touch as he pushed them further apart so he could dive in. At first it was a gentle, teasing brush of his tongue through your folds, circling your clit delicately, just enough pressure to make you need more. His grip slid higher, holding your hips and restricting your ability to buck up into his mouth like you wanted to do. You could feel the coil of pleasure gathering in your stomach, just waiting for the final push over the edge.

Without warning, his lips wrapped around your sensitive nub, sucking it and pressing with his tongue. The opposing push and pull sent shockwaves through you and you couldn’t help the scream that escaped your parted lips as your orgasm erupted through you. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you as Vane licked and sucked you through it, never truly letting you come down from the high before working you back toward the edge.

Your fingers dug in, nails scraping his scalp as you clung to him, your only anchor as you gasped for air and your muscles clenched and released in spasms.

“Fuck, Charles, yes. You make me feel so good,” you panted, keening as he continued to tease at you. “Just like that...fuck...yes…”

Hiking one of your legs over his shoulder to adjust your angle, he dove his tongue into you. His tongue thrust and curled within you, the sensation threatening to drive you mad as your every nerve ending hummed with pleasure and need.

“Oh fuck!” you cried out, grinding down against his mouth.

He hummed with his own pleasure at the way you writhed beneath him, the vibrations only adding to your desperation.

“Charles, if you keep doing that, I’m not going to last much longer,” you gasped and begged. “I need more, I need you. Fuck me, make me feel good like only you can. Please, Charles.”

His mouth withdrew and he let your leg fall as he got to his feet. His pupils were blown wide and his face was shiny with your slick and you were almost certain you had never seen a more perfect, pretty sight, and told him so, watching with devilish glee as his cock, already weeping pre-cum, twitched with the words.

He gave you only seconds to catch your breath before he kissed you harshly, tongue exploring your mouth greedily. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips.

“That was incredible, Charles,” you breathed, “You’re incredible. Fucking perfect really.”

“Don’t,” he growled. “Keep running that pretty mouth of yours and I won’t last long enough to stuff your cunt like I know you want me to.”

You whimpered, walls fluttering at the promise.

“Keep talking to me like that and I’ll be finished before you can,” you countered, trying to get the challenge back into your voice.

“We both know you’re tougher than that,” he smirked. “Now, Captain. Turn around and bend over the goddamn desk.”

You bit your lip, resisting just for show.

“Now!” his barked command fanned flames even higher.

Slowly, making sure that he was watching your every move, you rolled your hips, spinning so that your back was to him and lowered yourself to your elbows, top half stretched across the cool, solid wood. You couldn’t resist giving your ass a teasing shimmy as you cast a glance over your shoulder at him. He was staring, face slack with aw and eyes burning with desire.

“Well, Charles,” you drawled. “Are you going to keep a lady waiting, or are you going to give me what I want?”

This seemed to snap him out of his trance as he stepped closer. You felt his thighs against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your ass. One of his hands tangled in your hair, pulling you into an arch that bordered just the right side of pain. The other gripped the base of his penis and lined it up with your entrance. Slowly, both of you groaning in ecstasy, he sank into your waiting hole, bottoming out, filling and stretching you deliciously.

“Fuck, Charles, you feel so good,” you whined, rocking your hips back against his pelvis as if there was any deeper he could go.

Taking that as sign you were adjusted, he pulled nearly all of the way out before driving back into you with a sharp snap. Your body responded instantly, and the two of you set a punishing pace, his cock pistoning in and out of you with enough force to bounce you across the wood, every rock of his hips striking true on the spot within you that made you see stars. Your hands reached past your head, clawing at the opposite edge of the desk for purchase.

You could hardly breathe for the pleasure coursing through you, your moans and pleading a garble of unintelligible noises in harmony with his baritone grunts and groans. Releasing your hair, he took hold of your chin instead, his grip tight, just barely escaping bruising. He leaned closer over you, pinning you beneath his weight and kissing you hungrily. Your tongues battled for dominance, you at the distinct disadvantage, as you fucked, each desperately racing to bring the other to pleasure first.

“Fuck Charles...so good...I’m so close…” you whimpered against his lips. “Make me cum, please Charles. Please...feels so good.”

Your words seemed to stir him further and his thrusts became sloppy, faltering and stuttering in their rhythm.

Your name fell from his lips in a groan as he thrust once, twice more and his orgasm exploded, hot spurts of cum painting your insides. The sensation stole one last orgasm from you as he rode out his own high with shallow movements and you screamed for him.

The two of you laid there in silence, stretched across your desk, your body pressed beneath him and his softening cock inside you, for several minutes, head spinning and lungs burning for air as you recovered.

“Fuck, Charles,” you muttered. “Nobody can make me feel half as good as you do.”

“Good,” he growled. “I don’t want them even trying.”

“Didn’t take you for the jealous type,” you teased, shoving lightly to roll him off you and moving about the cabin to find something to clean yourselves off with.

“Why else would I have left that pretty mark on your neck, too high to hide,” he countered with a smirk. “I want everyone to know you’re mine.”

“I don’t know, Charles. You were such a good boy and did as you were told. I’d wager it’s you that belongs to me.”

“Looks like we’ll have to battle it out and see who comes out on top.”

You raised your eyebrows at his obvious innuendo. “And when do you propose to do that?”

“How about now,” he offered. “Jack and Mr. Maines can handle any disasters on deck while we have it out.”

“I’d much rather have it in,” you reclined on the narrow mattress in one corner, body open in an invite. Your limbs felt like jelly and you wanted nothing more really than to sleep, but he had made you feel so incredible, so blissed out, and you wanted more.

Sauntering over, his eyes travelled your prone form on the bed. Then he nudged you with one hand, effortlessly shifting your body against the wall.

“A nap first,” he said as he flopped down beside you.

You tried to think of something clever to say, squeaking in surprise as he reached out to draw you against him once he’d settled. Instead of maintaining the banter, you relented to his suggestion, relaxing and snuggling down, laying your head on his chest.

“Congratulations on the captaincy, if I haven’t said it already,” he stifled a yawn to speak. “I look forward to watching you give them hell.”

#new character. new fandom. same bullshit #pwp #throw dignity decency and caution to the wind #historically/practically inaccurate clothing layering because I'm goddamn lazy #Charles Vane x reader #Black Sails fic #posted. time to hide #also while looking for good pictures to fact check his eye color there was a Real Good gif of him in the dark with a cigar #and my brain immediately went 'welp there's the next project' so if this one goes over well...👀

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