#charon x reader

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

any thoughts on charon and virgin reader??

As with most questions to which this should not be my response, I have many. This actually isn't the only ask for Charon x Virgin!Reader content, and I'm happy to give you a taste of what I think he'd be like while I finish up the one-shot I have for it.

Charon (Fallout 3) x Virgin!Reader NSFW Headcanons

Pretty terrified of the idea of fucking a virgin. Charon does not fetishize virginity or inexperience, but he won't be disappointed if he finds out you're a virgin...per se. He's disappointed for you that you're choosing him to be the one to take your virginity, even if the concept doesn't mean anything to you. You deserve better than him. Then again, you'd deserve better than him if you weren't a virgin, and you want him anyway, so it's not a deal-breaker by any means. Just don't be shocked if he seems nervous or distracted.

If he doesn't see you take Rad-X with his own eyes beforehand, he'll make you take some, even if you already have. If there's none around, well. Tough. You won't be doing more than fooling around. He's stubborn, and if you've never had sex before, then you've definitely never had sex with a ghoul before and have no way to know how your body will respond. If there's no Radaway for you to use afterwards, same story. No radiation countermeasures, no love.

Tries his best to be sweet, or the closest he can get. It doesn't come naturally to him, kind words and soft touches and such. It never did in his pre-ghoul years so long ago, and the life he's lived since then has only made him harder, colder. Still, he can kiss you softly, pet and caress you as gently as he can. Maybe think of something nice to say (though that is a hard "maybe"). He'll hold your hand when you get nervous and even cuddle with you a little when it's all over, another move that isn't typical of him.

He's worried about how big he is, but he's also just worried about his lack of finesse in general. He's a large, lumbering guy with big, clumsy hands...hands it isn't hard to forget the strength of in the heat of the moment. That looming fear of his own strength isn't an unfounded one; you'll likely come out a little bruised no matter how gentle he tries to be. Spends a lot of his energy during sex holding himself up off of you so he doesn't crush you with his weight if he's on top.

He'll guide you if you want (or need), but by and large, he'll prefer if you're the one in charge. What do you like? How naked do you want to be? What position do you want to be in? If you're so virginal that you're both unknowledgeable as well as inexperienced, and thus unable to provide much input that isn't right in the moment, he's gonna keep things as simple as possible.

Secretly spends the entire first time the two of you have penetrative sex assuming you'll regret it sooner or later. You'd think that would ruin it for him, and it certainly...colors it, but overall he's determined to make the best of what he's been offered and try to show you a decent time. Hopes that if he can at least make it good for you, you might regret it a little less.

Has difficulty finishing. He normally does anyway, as he has trouble relaxing enough to be in the moment a lot of the time. But the problem multiplies tenfold if he knows it's your first time; all the fixating he's doing on you, monitoring you for signs of distress or pain, distracts him from his own pleasure. He might be able to relax enough to cum if you finish him off with your hands or mouth, but he likely won't climax otherwise.

Won't touch you again for at least a few days afterwards. Wants you to have time to properly recuperate more than he wants to feel you wrapped around him again (which is a LOT). Even if you came out of that first time rather intact, he'll treat you like he absolutely savaged you.

The possessive animal part of his brain is suddenly a lot more attached to you afterwards, and he's even more protective than he was previously. It's probably just a coincidence.

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Most Familiar Color

Charon x Fem!Lone Wanderer

TW/CW: NSFW, Periods/Menstrual Cycle, Period talk, blood, period sex, cramps, blood, violence, mentions of slavery and brainwashing

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is entirely self-indulgent. I am suffering from unusually horrible cramps and boom! This came to me. You guys can't tell me Charon will shy away from this sort of thing. Enjoy this... Word vomit lmao.

(caps divider by @/saradika-graphics. Check out their work, I recommend it!)

You really missed your dad right about now.

With each stabbing pain, you remembered your time in Vault 101. You remember when Amata sat you down as preteens and helped you through your panic when you first found traces of blood in your underwear.

Amata herself had hit puberty a little young, and seeing as how you were best friends (and neither of you had your mothers) you confided in one another with everything either of you could fathom; best friends til the end. So, when the pains started and you bled more, Amata told you that you should probably go get your dad, seeing as how he was the resident doctor, and all.

The very thought had mortified you, embarrassed beyond all get-out at the thought of talking to your dad about something like this.

Amata had shrugged, "I had to talk to him about mine. He even gave me tips on how to lessen the cramping. Trust me, your dad is not going to think you're weird or gross."

You rolled in your sleeping bag, the faint memory of more pleasant times overshadowed by the pain you were feeling stabbing low in your abdomen.

You focused on the rest of your memory. As it played out behind closed eyelids.

"This is perfectly natural, sweetie." James had told you as you laid in the sterile-smelling clinic. His eyes, the same color as yours, smiled gently and with infinite patience as he explained what was exactly happening to you.

"It means you're going to be a woman now. And, when you're ready, you could have a baby, if you wanted to."

Your nose had crinkled, the worst of your cramps having died down thanks to the pain pills he'd given you. "I don't want to have a baby."

"I should hope not!" James had laughed. "Not yet, anyway. I'm not old enough to be a granddad yet."

You rolled your eyes and turned onto your side, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you peered at him while he continued to explain what would happen, what to expect, and how to take care of it.

He'd given you these weird things... pads, "sanitary napkins"... and these other cotton contraptions you didn't very much like--tampons. They looked uncomfortable, and when he explained how to use them, you did not like it. Apparently the Vault, when built, took into consideration the female residents and had mandatory cotton growing and harvesting alongside their usual crops for this very reason.

Since this was all new to you, your father suggested the pads and napkins first, and did a short demonstration on a piece of spare cloth how to apply it and wear it comfortably.

All this however, was drowned out when a horrible cramp bled past the barrier the painkillers had built up for you. James had frowned mid-way through his explanation and demonstration, his heart squeezing at seeing you--his only and beloved child--in so much pain. He reached out and gently squeezed your shoulder, "I'll get you some muscle-relaxers, sweetie. I'll have Jonah tell Mr Birch that your schoolwork will have to be done back in our suite until your cycle ends."

"Can you not say that part?" You moan, feeling shame bubble up in your chest. You weren't sure why, but you felt horrified that so many people might be aware of what was going on with you. "Just say I'm sick."

"Okay, if it makes you more comfortable." James said softly. "But I want you to know, that I've seen several of your other classmates about this very situation, honey. It's not gross, it's not strange; and it most certainly is nothing to feel ashamed of."

Your silence stretched in the room, the sound of the air system and rattling of air vents the only thing that filled the void of speech.

"You know... your mother had rather painful periods, herself." James finally spoke up.

Your eyes widened and you lifted your gaze, intrigued. Oftentimes, the only thing that he would mention about your mother was her favorite Bible verse, and her love for you, spoken in her last few moments of life.

"Yes, yes, she did." He continued, seeing your awe and curiosity. "Sometimes they would get so bad, the pains, that she would snap at anyone. She was also prone to mood swings." James chuckled fondly at a distant memory, one he did not voice aloud.

"So, I just want you to know, that I definitely understand how much this can hurt you, sweetheart. Especially when I would have to help massage her belly to ease the cramping."

"...I wish Mom was here." You mutter softly, barely audible. But James picked up on it, smiling bitterly and fixing you with a gaze of love.

"I do, too, sweetheart... God, I do, too."

Yeah, you definitely missed your dad right about now... You missed his gentle words, you missed when his hands would help ease the hot water bottle into your grasp; you missed his ever-patient and comforting presence.

"You're tossing and turning a lot." A gruff and grating voice rumbled from nearby, stoking the fire he had lit hours ago in the tiny, decrepit house the two of you had taken shelter in.

Charon. The ghoul who said few words, the man who had been a slave to the cruel man in Underworld: Ahzrukhal. Charon had been brainwashed ages ago, forced into servitude and to obey the orders of whomever held his contract.

Which, after a difficult bartering session... was now you. Mere moments after buying said contract, Charon had gunned down his malicious former-"employer" with two taps of his hefty shotgun. The second shot completely unnecessary, as the first pull of the trigger completely obliterated the man's head; brain matter and blood and bits of skull painting the dingy walls a deep red.

During your travels, you had even gone so far as to hand Charon his contract to him, telling him he was free, now. He could go where he wanted, when he wanted. You'd even tried to give him a few caps and tried ordering him to buy his own contract from you. But, he explained that, infuriatingly, it "didn't work like that".

And in the stressful months you'd traveled together, things changed. The dynamic between you two. Eventually... that changed, too. Became something personal--intimate.

Before, you would merely knock back some painkillers here and there to offset the pain, exercise to mask the cramps, and hastily wash any blood from your clothes to conceal what exactly was happening to you every four weeks; that shame your father insisted wasn't necessary, ever present in the back of your mind.

"Sorry." You mumble.

"It does not bother me." Charon mumbled, his hazy eyes slowly gliding from the glow of the fire and towards you as you rolled to your other side so your back was too him. You just couldn't take his intense gaze. Not right now.

"Were you hurt in the fight earlier?"

And yeah, the two of you got into a rather violent melee when you were ambushed by a few raiders hyped up on psycho. You'd taken a bat to your gut, which, you swore, is what made your cramps worse, today; aside from the bruise that was likely there, now.

The wind rattled the boarded up windows, whistling angrily through cracks unseen as the first heavy winter storm swept over the Capital Wasteland.

"Yeah. I'm just--just sore." You mumble, tucking deeper into your bedroll.

That's when Charon said the words you had really hoped he would utter: "Let me see. We still have the ointment from the coots back in Oasis. It'll help with the bruise."

"No--Charon, I'm fine." You blabber out nervously, fingers gripping the thin fabric wrapping around you as you wished you could sink deeper into the ruined cushions of the rather questionable old couch you laid on.

You should have known better. Aside from your budding and confusing relationship, Charon still had his driven mentality to ensure the safety of his employer. You. Even if you didn't like it at the moment.

"No. Let me see." Charon insisted.

The shuffled of dirt and trash on the old wooden floors, coupled with the soft squeak of his old leather jacket and patchwork armor soon followed.

"Charon, I'm--" Your voice is cut short when his large hands are placed on your diminutive body. Or, well. You were average. Charon was... large. He was nearly as tall as someone in a suit of power armor.

You couldn't fight him as he gently manhandled you, unzipping your warm trappings to free you from your cocoon of privacy. His hands stayed at your sides, resting softly on your hips as he looked at you expectantly, his poker face, as usual, was absolutely impossible to decipher.

But you knew. He was waiting for your consent, or for you to start.

You sighed and began unzipping your vault suit. A bit flashy in the wasteland, for sure... but in the winter it served very well to keep you warm. You felt a flush rise in your cheeks as the chilly air in the house covered your bare skin as you shimmied the top half of your suit off, revealing the threadbare tank top you wore beneath.

Charon gently guided you back down, so you were laying flat on your back as his calloused and scarred fingers gently hiked your shirt up to your ribs, to peer at the injury he suspected you had.

You had turned your head, chewing the inside of your cheek as his absurdly hot hands smoothed over your belly. Yeah, you definitely had a bruise.

"It doesn't look that bad. The ointment from Oasis might help with the soreness." He grunted, turning to rifle through his duffel bag. After a few moments, he pulled back a brown jar from the depths of his things. He unscrewed the tin lid and the acrid smell greets your nose; the pungent ointment smelled awful. But you couldn't deny that it worked great in terms of pain relief.

He scooped out a glob of the murky-white slop and gently began to smooth it down, rubbing and pressing in soothing circles to cover the blossoming purple that covered your midsection.

And, honestly... it helped. Not the bruise, but your cramps. The weight and pressure from his heavy hand massaging your abdomen eased the throb your reproductive organs wrought within you. You sighed in relief at the touch, welcoming his easing of the tightness in your belly.

But, almost as soon as the relief began to seep into your weary body, Charon slipped his hand away. Your smaller hand gripped his thick wrist, "Wait."

He tilted his head, a ruined brow quirking up ever so slightly as scraps of rusty red hair flopped over his scarred and pitted scalp.

"I... can you... keep doing that? It helps. A lot." You say vaguely, looking away from him and biting your lip.

Charon eyes you for a few more seconds, before his hand began to press and soothe once more. As you relaxed into the cushions, Charon's cloudy gaze studied you intently, the gears within his mind grinding and turning.

"You're bleeding, aren't you?" He finally said, bringing your bliss to a screeching halt.

You move to sit up, cringing, "No, no that's not it. I'm just sore, and..."

His hand slid a bit lower, pressing down over the spot that hurt the most, right between your bones poking delicately through your skin. He grunted softly, "You should have said something. Especially if it's hurting you this badly."

"I--It's nothing, Charon." You say, trying to shove his hand away; but his strength did not waver. He continued to press his fingertips down into your smooth skin, rubbing short, tight circles as if he could feel every contraction and throb through your skin.

You groan deeply in relief, unable to contain it as the pain begins to slowly bleed away. "We're out of painkillers."

Charon grumbled in acknowledgment, nodding as his eyes focus on the task his hand was undertaking, the give and slight stretch of your skin as he pulled and pushed; fighting the waves of pain that swept up your body, engaging in a sort of combat with your cramps.

"We will stay here for a few days." Charon continues as his hand smooths flat briefly, before massaging the last echoes of your aches away. "The storm will likely hang over us, and it isn't smart to go out in a blizzard, if this turns into one. We have plenty of provisions to last us until the storm passes."

You nod, your eyes slipping closed as, even though the cramps had lessened to almost nothing, Charon continued to massage your abdomen with his massive hand; the pain blooming into something... else. A fire, not unlike the one that burned in the rusted fireplace, glowed hot and low inside of you, making your body go slick with something other than the blood you knew soaked into the cotton strip in your underwear.

The heat thrummed in your chest and you swallowed, your hand squeezing his wrist once. "I... Y-You can stop, now."

Charon immediately halted, something his palm once again as he looked at you.

This sudden shyness was completely unlike you. You were loud, boisterous, giddy and able to talk down even the most hard-headed individuals; not this... shy little radrabbit.

You groaned again in frustration, gripping his wrist tight as you rode out a fresh cramp.

"There is something," Charon said slowly. "That might help."

"What is it?" You sigh, looking at him with pinched brows.

The moment your eyes fell on him, you swallowed a new lump in your throat as Charon leaned in over you, dwarfing and caging you beneath his massive body on the couch.

"There are ways to help the pains. Basic ones." He said softly, resting his forehead against yours.

You shivered, the heat rolling off of his body triggering a nervous sweat on you. Or maybe it was your body as your temp Rose ad fell--just as your father warned you would happen from time to time. Either way, the smell of him, the lingering ghosts of his touching, and now his innate closeness to you had that heat pool once more lowly in your belly.

"I... Charon, I don't think--" You began to awkwardly bumble out.

It wasn't that you were afraid of the prospect, not at all. You had had sex with each other once or twice already. But sharing your body in such an intimate matter, especially with the... mess going on with your lower half right now... let alone with someone who was, up until recently, your "employee" as he put it, had your stomach flipping with angry butterflies.

His hand that was used to massage your belly braced him up so he could stare down at you. That ever-steely gaze fixed against yours, your lip quivering a little in some sort of shame you cursed yourself for feeling.

"I can help you. It's my job." He says, his voice softer than usual; the deep grating almost missing from him altogether. This was... gentler, as if he was talking to a scared animal.

"Charon, you don't have to... this is..." You struggle out, a deep sigh heaving from you as you tried to come up with an excuse, your fingers toying blindly with his leather belts looped around his torso in an effort to calm down. "It's... gross. Messy."

Shockingly, the ever-rare smile slowly curves his lips, twisting his marred features in a humorous glow as he looked down at you further, a dry chuckle tumbling from him as though you just said the funniest joke on the planet to him.

"Doll..." He whispered to you, leaning in to press his lips on your jaw, just beneath your ear. God, that pet name sent shivers down your spine...

"I have been marred with death and grime for dozens of years. A long fucking time. I'm not afraid of a little blood."

"I..." You hitch, feeling his free hand slide down your front, his thumb sweeping over your pebbled nipple, feeling it through the thin fabric of your tank top. The ache you felt there, too, eased somewhat as he gently rolled and groped at the fat, wrenching something between a grunt and a moan from you.

"Let me help you. And it will help." He growled deeply, sucking a bruise into your throat in such a way that had your back arching and your walls fluttering at his promise.

"...Okay." You finally consent.

The moment you gave your permission, Charon reached down to grab at the edges of your suit, tugging it down your thighs enough to give him space to work while his hand worked its way past the worn elastic of your underwear.

The moment his fingers touched your aching clit, you made a shuddered sound, your hands gripping his leather jacket tight, gritting your teeth as his mouth worked at your throat; the callouses and pitted texture of his hand providing the perfect friction to your throbbing little nub.

Charon groaned against your soft skin, his crooked teeth scraping at your pulse as he spread your lips, his fingers moving to trace your leaking hole.

"You're forgetting that I've had many employers. Women included. I've done this before for them; an orgasm will help." He murmurs, sliding a thick finger inside of you, his thumb circling your clit mercilessly as you walls squeezed down around him.

His tongue traced a bead of sweat that rolled over the knot in your throat, "...you're the only one I'll enjoy doing it for."

The throb in your cunt matched the one in your chest; feeling humbled and happy that he trusted you so entirely--accepted you so fully that anything he did, that could bring you joy or relief, was his own; as though you two were the same person in separate and anything that helped soothe you did the same for him.

"Charon." You moaned weakly, your hips rolling in time with his fingers as he pushed another one inside of you, pressing and curling in the delicious pattern he already knew made you weak in the knees. He was a fast learner, figuring out all your bells and whistles after that first fleeting and awkward sexual encounter the two of you had back in your house in Megaton.

You panted and wheezed, his hand moving wonderfully slow in the best way, massaging your contracting walls as you pressed your legs wider for him; brushing against the rather intimidating bulge in his jeans that he neglected in favor of you.

Almost as soon as his fingers pressed on that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars... A throb of pain overwrote it and you whimpered, your thighs squeezing tight around his wrist as your belly flexed once more.

Charon pulled his mouth free of your neck, looking down at you, his brows furrowed hard as he studied your pained expression. "Another one? How bad?"

"Hurts..." Was all you could sniffle out. "I'm sorry."

"Don't." He growled, leaning down to kiss you deeply, his tongue gently brushing your lips before pulling away again, pushing up on the couch until he stood on his knees and looked down at you.

"Don't ever. Say sorry. To me."

You looked up at him, feeling guilty as you dared spare a glance down at his hand as it withdrew from your heat, smeared with your blood. Your cheeks burned and you tried to hide your face behind your arm.

Charon wiped his hand on his pants and sighed down at you. It didn't surprise him, not really, that you felt shame regarding your monthly cycle. A lot of women had grown up being shamed; especially if any blood was visible on their clothes. Shit, even before the War, women and young girls faced a stigma if they spoke openly about their menstrual cycles.

He despised the fact that somehow, that shit survived into the apocalypse. He hated the fact you apologized for feeling that pain your body was inflicting upon you naturally; that you felt bad for being "messy".

But what irked him most in the moment, was the fact that his touches weren't enough for you right now. Charon grunted, pressing the heel of his palm into the bulge in his pants, hissing out a sigh between his teeth.

He leaned down, gently pushing your hand to the side so he could look into your watery eyes. Mood swings were common, too. That he knew obviously. His chapped and rough lips grazed yours softly in a gentle and well-rehearsed dance.

"Relax for me. Getting upset won't help you right now, doll." He whispered sweetly to you, his eyes softening as your gazes locked.

"I--I don't know why, I..."

"Hush." He says, hastily undoing his armor and jacket, lazily draping them over the back of the couch; reaching behind him to pull off his thin gray shirt over his head, revealing the twisted, marred, and damaged tissue of his body to you.

Many people were disgusted by ghouls, finding their skin (or lack thereof, in some cases) gross and unappealing. While yes, there were the scant few who found them attractive; both sexually and in general... The vast majority were uncomfortable with the prospect of having sex with one.

Your eyelashes flutter as you blink, swallowing hard; your tongue felt like all moisture in your mouth was absorbed, the muscle swollen so much that you couldn't find anymore saliva to moisten it. He had an amazingly built body. Not an inch of fat on him (but then again, very few even had fat anymore, given how scarce food could be from time to time) Charon was a solid wall of muscle and scars from past battles; both physically and mentally.

And he knew you loved every bit of him. Maybe you were naive, maybe you had just been lonely at first... but he was well aware of how intensely your attraction and affection burned for him.

His fingers slipped his belt loose, the buckle tinkling as the worn leather slipped free; before unbuttoning his jeans.

Charon looked into your eyes, his cock throbbing at the way you bit your lip, your soft eyes staring with heated want at the bulge that was so prominent in his confining clothes. But, as before, the look of doubt flickered in that little flame within you; shame.

He couldn't help but feel a small sense of smug pride, smirking down at you. "I know you might not want to do this... But--" Charon sighed as he freed his cock, holding the fat length of it in a tight grip.

As scarred as the rest of him, the sheer size and texture promised a head-spinningly good time.

"Let me help you." His other hand pinched your chin between thick fingers, making you look up at him and match his eyes. "Please."

Your heart squeezed in your chest. He was asking you, making sure above all else that this was what you wanted.

And... you did. Nodding as another new cramp slipped through your abdomen, you cringed a little. "Please..." You repeat back to him.

Charon nodded, pulling the rest of your suit off and tossing it to the floor, his thumbs hooking your bloody underwear down your legs, the coppery scent hitting his lack-of nose as he carefully set them aside. He kicked off his boots and pants before caging you against the couch once again, looking briefly at the slick of crimson that shone on your smooth thighs, the short hairs on your sex sticky with it.

He gave you another kiss, this one more heated than the last, your tongues twining and dancing as he aggressively fought to seek dominance over yours. He won, of course, you were helpless against him.

"Take deep breaths." He muttered against your lips, reaching down between you to notch his gnarled tip at your entrance.

You let out a shaky puff of air, before sucking in a tight lungfull as he pushed in, the stretch of his cock absolutely filling and oh, so pleasant. Your heels dig in to the muscles of his glutes, your nails biting into his pitted skin as he slid inch by torturous inch into your tight, clenching walls.

Charon tossed his head back with a groan, "Fuck. You need to relax as much as you can, doll... You're fucking tight."

You nod frantically, whimpering as you try to force your muscles to ease up their vice-grip on his shaft, mouth hanging open in hungry pants of air as he slowly withdraws, his cock painted a macabre red before thrusting back in.

It hurt, not just from the cramps you were feeling, but from the fact that Charon was going so slow, so gentle with you. You understood his concerns, yes, but... fuck. Your body screamed, your ovaries practically beat against your womb to just have him fuck you relentless, to pump you full of seed that would never take root.

You wheezed as his hips arch and press down against yours, rubbing your walls in a painfully erotic way, "Harder."

He stilled, then, bracing himself on his elbows to look at you, his scruffy scraps of hair hanging down like tattered curtains as your eyes locked once again. "You're sure?"

"Yes." You sob softly. "Fuck--yes. I--I need you to... to just..."

He growled, his mouth twisting into a snarl as he pushed up on the couch, leaning back as his hands reached around you, hoisting you up by your ass so his cock could angle blissfully within your cunt, wordlessly following your plea before settling into a bruising pace, rutting into you like a man possessed.

Your soft breasts bounced as he grunted, his cock stretching and fucking you so utterly it almost knocked all rational thoughts free from your brain; almost knocking your brain loose as you sob, tears prickling your vision as your eyes crossed, a wanton moan wrenched free from within you in concert with the howling winds that swept the wasteland outside.

The fire crackled and popped, dying down to lame embers, darkening the room as Charon pounded your sore and twitching cunt, the lewd sound of skin slapping on skin a constant sound going off like a gunshot in your ears.

Hell, each punch of his hips felt like a gunshot to your cervix; the pain mixing in a wondrous cocktail of euphoria as you felt your orgasm flutter from deep within you.

Your walls crushed down on his cock, your blood and slick letting him slide in and out of you with no effort as you whimpered and cried with every arch and fuck of his hips.

"Ch-Charon," You hiccup, your blood rushing so loudly in your ears it nearly drowned out the lewd sounds your bodies made as Charon gripped your hips in such a way that you were sure to have bruises in your ass cheeks tomorrow. "Charon, 'm gonna--"

"Do it." He groaned, his head hanging back and his mouth open in wet, hot pants; eyes screwed shut. "Cum for me, doll."

You arch your back, your nails digging into the frail fabric of the couch cushions, tearing the seams almost audibly as your climax rippled through your, your womb clenching finally in a way that blacked out your mind with not pain, but pleasure.

Blinding, searing, burning pleasure as your body turned to jelly in Charon's hands, letting him manhandle you through your final ebbs of nirvana as your pussy clenched around him.

He slowed his thrusts languidly, slowly easing you down onto the couch once again. Your blood would surely stain your bedding... But right now you couldn't care less; finally, blissful oblivion was granted to your cramps. Pain completely dissolved, you sighed in content as you heavy lids drew open to look up at him.

Charon let out a heavy sigh, his hand gripping your thigh softly, squeezing the fat there affectionately. "Feel better?"

"Yeah..." You sigh again, happily, your hands sliding up his shoulders to rest on the back of his neck.

But... some part of you roared to life, awareness spreading through your sex almost instincively.

"I... You didn't--"

Charon smirks at you, once again, the promise on his lips making your pussy flutter around him.

"This can last up to a week." He jerked his head towards the door he barricaded shut against the storm raging outside.

He snapped his hips into yours, grinding his cock head against your deepest reaches.

"So can this. I have plenty of time to get off. Right now... we're focusing on you."

You whimper as his teeth nip at your ear; "...And I think I feel you cramping again."

[miss-dollette]

Maybe I’m in heat, but the idea of being carried over Charon’s shoulder is just making me… ugh. Like, he’s probably built like a brick house, and has some long legs - slender yet muscled so nicely.

Speaking of legs, while over his shoulder, imagine those long fingers of his, more used to danger than pleasure, just squeezing into the fat of your upper thigh, just below your ass. He’d probably do it by accident, not even noticing when his fingers would accidentally slide up a bit and touch that crease between your thigh and privates, unintentionally stimulating you.

You’d be holding on for dear life (and trying not to moan as you spasm) as he fights his way through whatever the hell attacked you, with one arm blasting away, and the other leaving bruises.

Once he’d set you down, you’d stumble a bit, half in shock at what you both survived, and the other half, trying to steady your shaking legs and your shaking breath.

“Are you alright, Mistress? Were you harmed?”

“No, Charon - I’m fine…”

[acapelladitty]

Errand Boy (Charon x Reader)

Summary - After working together for a while, you finally take the plunge and take a rough ride on your 7ft ghoulish bodyguard.

(tw: size difference, size kink, swearing, rough handling, piv sex, rough sex, creampie, bruising, riding, orgasm)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Knees pressing into the cheap mattress as they clamp around his thick hips, you shiver in place as you grind your cunt into his groin, the hairless area covered in delightfully textured skin which feels wonderful against your throbbing cunt. He's like a mattress itself as he lays beneath you, his massive height allowing him to fill the space without effort and you feel deliciously small as you rub yourself against him like a bitch in heat.

"And you promise me you want this?" You gasp out, hands splaying across his broad chest and marvelling at just how tiny your digits look against the wide expanse of his pitted skin. He's hotter than hell and the curves of his exposed muscles, marred by erratic scarring, feel strange agains your palms. "Not because of the contract, but because you want this."

"I'm nobody's errand boy and I'm nobody's whore." Charon growls and you can tell he's irritated by the scowl which darkens his sunken gaze. "You think you could make me fuck you if I didn't want to?"

"No, but-"

"Then shut up and let me fuck you."

Pleased by the reassurance, you surrender yourself to him and shudder as he gathers your arms behind you and holds them in place with one hand as he loops his fingers around both of your wrists. His free hand comes to rest on your hips and you can feel how much of your skin his palm covers, the sheer scale of him making your mouth dry as hell.

Your ass on his lower stomach, he uses his grip of your arms to lean you forward, exposing your cunt to his cock as he let's go of your hips long enough to grip himself in hand and start to brush his cock along your aching sex. He's huge and the feel of his thick cockhead pressing along your slit makes an absurd bubble of nervous laughter shake your chest a little.

"Fuck, Charon. I don't know if that's going to fit."

"It'll fit." Is the only response he gives and his gloating confidence makes your cunt clench around nothing as you feel his cock swipe itself along your slit - the darkened head of his cock almost flared compared to the shaft as you feel every millimeter of it igniting the nerves in your cunt. "You can take it all. Every bit."

Still a little anxious, you wonder if maybe you should have had him open you up with his fingers first but quickly put the idea to rest as he releases your hands to place his other hand on your hip. Now pinned in place by his impressive strength, his blue eyes seem to burn up at you from his reclined position.

"Line me up so I can fuck you."

Fingers scrambling towards his cock in an instant, you squeal as he lifts you from his body. Now suspended, your hands drop to his cock and you stroke along the top of his shaft with a velvety palm before pumping two fingers within your own cunt to gather as much of your arousal as you can. Swirling it across his flared cockhead, you lube him up as best you can before pulling his cock straight as you line it up with your cunt.

Even without any pressure, you can feel how thick he is and the lustful fear of just how terribly full you're going to feel has your toes curling against the sheets in anticipation. His attention is split between your face and your chest as his strong hands continue to shake you ever so slightly - a move which makes your tits bounce and his lips pull back into something almost like a smile.

Without preamble, he pulls you down onto his cock and the sudden onslaught of pained pleasure makes your vision white-out for a moment as your cunt is forced to stretch around him to point where you feel you're going to split if he so much as blinks. Your scream is impressive, rattling off the walls and echoing as it tails off into a shuddering cry as the two inches of cock which impales you refuses you any peace.

"Fuck, fuck. FUCK!" You whistle out from between your teeth. "It hurts, Charon. It's too much." But even as you complain, the stretch of your walls brings with it a hot pleasure which trickles along your spine as you squeeze around him. No way you'll be walking straight after this. Not in a million fucking years.

His snort causes your brow to furrow as you pin him to the bed with your watery gaze. His reddened hair is as sharp as ever as it sits parallel to his skull but one of the strands has fallen loose across his forehead and you concentrate on that as you choose to ignore the smugness which he is making no effort to hide.

He doesn't say anything but he sets a slow pace, giving you a moment to acclimatise to his sheer size. His hands are hot against your hips, the wide fingers covering most of your skin there and he holds you in place like you were a doll; weightless and so easily manipulated. With a deadpan expression, he slowly fucks himself into you, each thrust pushing another inch into your spasming cunt.

Shuddering and whimpering something pathetic, your hands claw themselves into his chest - feeling the leathery skin refuse to give way under your blunted nails as you focus on keeping your breathing steady. The burn of your walls is incredible, the stretch giving way to a cruel mix of pleasure and pain with every shallow thrust. To even the scale a little more, you drop one hand to your clit, rubbing at the swollen bud with a gentle finger to send a rolling pleasure through your nerves.

It also makes you clench around him and the added sensation draws a thick rumble from his chest as he pulls you down harder on his cock. Now fully sheathed within you, his cock is flush against your cervix and every thrust sparks a dull discomfort as he glances off it and you shiver as you glance down to see that at least an inch of his cock remains outwith your cunt.

"Fuck, you're so big." Biting your lower lip, you slip your hand free of your clit and bring it to his jaw, cupping his face as you lean down to take some of the pressure off your cervix. "I don't know if I'll be able to fuck anyone else after this. I'll be ruined."

That pulls a smirk from him as his teeth peek out from beneath his curled lips. Taking the encouragement, his hands tighten around your hips and he picks up pace.

If you thought he was fucking you before then you were dead wrong as the sudden onslaught of pure sensation as he bounces you on his cock like a puppet is almost too much to handle. Pinned by his hands, he uses his strength to move you, fucking you on his cock more than anything and the feeling of being so wonderfully used is quick to offset the raging fire of the forced stretch which is only beginning to wear off slightly.

Dropping your hands atop his own, you allow him to move you as he likes - your mouth thrown open by a torrid mixture of gasps and moans as every thrust builds a steady heat in your cunt, his thick cock brushing every inch of those wonderful spots which send you absolutely wild.

It can't last forever, despite your desperate wishes otherwise, and you can tell he's approaching his release as his thrusts grow more sloppy and his chest rumbles with muted growls. Determined to see him come undone, you squeeze your cunt around him and rake your nails down his chest, drawing your middle nails harshly across his toughened nipples.

His hands tighten again, so tight that it takes your breath away and you know that little purple bruises will soon blossom on the abused skin, and you scream in delight as he slams his cock as deeply as possible. His release floods you, the heat of it burning you from the inside out as it fills you in an instant. The added sensation proves too much for your sensitive cunt and you are quick to follow him over the edge, your own orgasm making you clench around him and milk him for every drop as you whine and moan.

Toes curling to the point of pain, you ride your orgasm out on his cock - his hands continuing to use you like a doll as he impales you on his length to chase all the pleasure he can from your much smaller frame. Both unwilling to give up on the sensations quite yet, you keep rolling your cunt into his thrusts until overstimulation starts to set in and exhaustion pulls at your limbs.

He pulls free first. Lifting you free of his cock, you immediately feel how hollowed out you are as the cool air of the room blows across your heated cunt. His release trickles down your thigh, tickling the skin there as he holds you in place for a moment before dropping you flush to his chest. His breathing is erratic but his expression is pleased and he takes a moment to stroke a hand along his cock - feeling your arousal coating him like a second skin.

"Is good?" Charon asks after a silent beat, his arms pushing you off his chest to his side as he allows you to wrap yourself around him with shaking limbs.

"Is great." You reply, panting out the retort with a grin as you struggle to tilt your head up enough to meet him. "Don't think I'll be walking right any time soon."

He says nothing but you hear a pleased huff escape the chest which your ear is pressed to and his large arm is quick to wrap around your waist, pulling you flush to his side as you again admire just how fucking tall he is while wrapping your leg around his thigh.

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Can we get a Charon nsfw alphabet? 🥺 please for the holidays?

Charon NSFW Alphabet

➼ Word Count » 1.0k ➼ Warnings » Size Kink, Marking, MDNI ➼ Genre » NSFW, Romantic

A - Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Charon isn't the greatest at aftercare, but he certainly tries. He'll carry you off the bed, place you in the nearest bath (or general water source), and wash you. He doesn't speak, just silently does his best to take care of you as you lean back in his arms.

B - Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes the way your eyes stare up at him when he's on top of you. There's something about the sheer amount of trust they hold that turns him on.

C - Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes to cum inside of you (he's sterile after all), although he does sometimes worry about the amount of radiation you'd contract when he does so.

D - Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He gets off on the idea of you squirming underneath him and loves the thought of keeping you trapped.

E - Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He's only ever slept with a few others before you, but he's got enough experience to feel confident in what he's doing.

F - Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Charon likes being on top of you. He loves seeing how much smaller you are compared to him and how easily it would be for him to crush you under his weight.

G - Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

No, he's always serious. Humor is dumb, especially in the bedroom.

H - Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

There are a few bits of red hair down there, but most of it's gone due to the radiation.

I - Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He's quiet, maybe whispering a few terms of endearment into your ear, but that's it. He likes to keep these moments as intimate as possible, meaning he'd rather not let anyone else hear your whimpers.

J - Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

He masturbates every once in a while if you're busy, but otherwise, he'll grab you by the back of your shirt and yank you a bit to let you know.

K - Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He has a size kink but that's the farthest it goes. He's fairly vanilla, however, if you ever wanted to suggest anything he'd gladly oblige.

L - Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere that he can lock the door. He refuses to let anyone walk in on you, and if they did, he'd contemplate shooting them.

M - Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Seeing you be all sweet and polite. It makes him want to take your face in between his fingers and stare down into those lovely eyes of yours. You're so much more different than the others who've held his contract before and he finds the change so... thrilling.

N - No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

There's nothing he wouldn't do. You give him the word and he'll go through with it.

O - Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Charon prefers to go down on you, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't adore the way your eyes looked up at him when you sucked him off.

P - Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He likes to go rougher. If you're not covered in tears and sweat, then he didn't do it right.

Q - Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn't really like them. He feels as if they're too much of a bother to actually go through with and would much rather just wait till you both have time.

R - Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

As long as it's something you want. He'd never experiment with anything that would cause you permanent harm like radiation or any type of scarring.

S - Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

4-5. Charon's a pretty bulky guy and has a ton of endurance. He'll go for as long as you need him too.

T - Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn't own any and would prefer not to use any at all. He can give you everything a toy can and would like to keep it that way.

U - Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Sometimes, but he normally prefers to just get straight to the point. He's a service dom and loves pleasing you the fastest way he can.

V - Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Besides the occasional grunt, he's not very loud.

W - Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Although he prefers to keep sex disclosed, he loves leaving a trail of hickeys along your neck for good measure. It helps to ward off other men and gives him a slight feeling of pride in what he's done.

X - X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5 inches long and really thick.

Y - Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It's fairly average, he gets horny about 2-3 times a week, but that's all.

Z -Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Charon doesn't like falling asleep after, opting to clean you off and watch over you while you rest. He likes it better that way.

[dazed-and-confused23]

For Better or for Worse

It's come to my attention that there aren't nearly enough people giving our boy Charon love. So here is my submission.

Summary: After a close call with Talon Company, you and Charon patch each other up back in Megaton. Charon comes to terms with his feeling for you and does something about it.

Warnings: none? Kissing and Charon being a sweetheart.

Masterlist

"I told you to let me take point," Charon grumbled. He sat beside you, a scowl on his ghoulish face as he wound stained bandages around your shoulder. His mistress had run into trouble, not thirty minutes into their outing today, and had to turn right back around to run back to Megaton like a dog with its tail between its legs. He'd just spent the better part of an hour digging lead out of you.

Your lips screw up in a pout, "Why? So you could have been shot instead?"

Charon gives you a deadpan look, his milky blue eyes annoyed, "Yes."

"No!" You hiss right back and glare at the Ghoul, "Just cause you're supposed to protect me, doesn't mean you need to take a bullet for me, Charon."

He ignores you in favor of focusing on tucking the end of the bandage in and then sits back. The two of you have been together going on three years now, and Charon still couldn't wrap his head around how kind you were to him, how much you cared for him. He would turn the world upside down for you if you gave the order.

But you never ordered him. You told him that you refused to own a slave, but you would like a friend. And while the contract you held made things difficult, you always tried your best to do right by Charon.

"I don't like seeing you get hurt," Charon admits after a moment and looks at you out of the corner of his eye. He isn't well versed in feelings and emotions, had always preferred to shove those down until he was numb, but he wanted to try. For you.

"You're important to me, more than just an employer. More than a friend."

Charon didn't know, or maybe he didn't remember what love felt like, but he thinks what he feels for you might be it. You worry and infuriate him at every turn, but seeing that mega watt grin when you find a preserved magazine in some ruins made it all worth it. His heart would pick up speed whenever you hung off his arm, cheeks feeling hot when you pressed yourself against his side.

"It's not right, and it's inappropriate of me, but I love you, _."

Charon doesn't know what he's expecting, backlash, or disgust, most likely, but not for you to throw yourself at him, headless of your injury. He catches you easily, dull blue eyes going wide when you wrap your arms around his neck and hold him tightly. He clutches your waist, unsure what to do.

"I've loved you for a long time, Charon. I was just too scared to say anything," you admit, and your words are like basking in the sweet glow of radiation. He pulls you away, needing to see your face, but you're just smiling, eyes full of elation and adoration for the ghoul.

Charon licks his lips, "Can I kiss you?"

"Please."

The feel of your smooth lips against his ruined one could put him in the grave. The sweet exchange is everything and more than what Charon imagined it to be, and you aren't shy in showing him exactly the way you like it. When you pull away to smile down at him, his only regret is not telling you sooner.

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 20: Cockwarming with Charon

Pairing: Charon X Fem!Reader Word count: 1338 Warnings: Cockwarming, Soft Charon, P in V but not sex, Very light clit stimulation, This one is more about intimacy through comfort than spice, Reader is kinda autistic coded in this one (imo), Lots of internal monologue, Reader is explicitly the Lone Wanderer, Kinda Dom/Sub undertones.

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

Charon had seen it coming from the moment you woke up that morning.

You were antsy, like you had an itch under your skin that you just couldn’t scratch, and not in the normal horny way either.

It was like your whole body needed something but couldn’t find it.

He’d heard of that feeling before in other people. The inability for your nervous system to self-regulate fully. You were one of those people.

He’d seen it happen to you plenty, especially after all you’d gone through with your father, Project Purity, and The Brotherhood and Enclave on top of just the day-to-day survival of the Wastes.

So, when you both got home, you turned to him with hesitant eyes and asked with a small voice. “Char?” He knew exactly where this was going.

“Hm?” Had been his gentle response, letting you get your request out at your own pace while knowing he was listening.

He’d quickly learned that you needed a verbal response most of the time, just looking at you made you feel like you were bothering him, so he at least hummed so you knew he was present in the conversation.

“Can we do the thing?” Your gaze had drifted down to your fidgeting fingers as they twisted around each other, your shoulder scrunched up to your ears with trapped tension.

You hated saying the word, it made you feel like you were asking him to fuck you when that wasn’t the goal, so you resorted to calling it ‘the thing’ and he let you leave it at that, no reason to push something that didn’t need changing.

Especially when you used all the descriptive terms for everything else without issue.

He’d been the one to introduce the concept of cock warming to you, but you were the one that made it into the comforting act that it’s become in your relationship.

Charon was more than happy with that. Any reason to be as close to you as possible was more than great to him. Sexual gratification be damned.

“Yeah, we can do the thing.” He answered before wrapping his arms around you, pressing his scarred lips to your hairline.

You were already melting into him.

“Go change into one of my shirts, then come to the couch.” He ordered before giving your head another kiss and releasing you from his hold.

You nodded and went up the metal stairs that led to your shared bedroom.

Before the two of you had become intimate, he’d aided you this way by just cuddling, the press of his body against yours was enough to help your body regulate and release tension.

After, however, you came to prefer this. “It just makes me feel better…” Had been your explanation, face flushed in embarrassment.

He loved that you needed him, wanted him, so much. It was unlike anyone else who had ever been in his life this long, those who only ever wanted him for violence.

But not you.

You took comfort in him and allowed him to do the same in you.

When your form had disappeared from his view he moved over to the couch and took off everything but his undershirt. If you wanted more skin-to-skin it could be taken off later, for now this was good enough.

Up in your bedroom you stood before the filing cabinet that served as a dresser, eyeing the small pile of black shirts that Charon alternated between.

They all were too clean, having been freshly washed the previous week, and none of them had enough of his comforting musk.

Then your eyes landed on the pile of worn ones that sat in the basket by the door, your makeshift laundry hamper.

Taking up the one at the top of the pile, long sleeved and massive compared to you. It was the one he’d worn the day before, when you’d been lounging around the house. Perfect.

Changing was a sloppy affair, so utterly uninterested in any real decorum when your skin felt like pins and needles and your brain was buzzing in the worst way.

You left your vault suit on the floor in a heap, your boots trapped under it all, and your bra and panties kicked away like they’d offended you, before slipping into the shirt.

It hung on your frame like a short nightgown, barely covering your bits and pieces from prying eyes.

When you descended the stairs, you found Charon waiting on the couch, he was already half hard and his hand was slowly working himself, getting ready for you.

A wave of arousal bloomed in your belly at the sight, a small flipping feeling that made your pussy clench slightly, but that was it.

He turned his head when he heard you and reached out his hand. “C’mere, Sweetheart.” He coaxed softly.

Taking his hand was automatic, he hadn’t finished speaking before you made contact and rounded the couch.

He helped you settle on his lap facing him, straddling him with slightly shaky legs. His chest ached at how wound up you had gotten before you could do anything about it.

It made him wish he could just keep you in the house where he could protect you from these feelings, but he knew you were too adventurous and independent for that, and he wouldn’t dare dim that shine.

“I have to get you wet, or it’ll hurt. Okay?” He said softly, knowing the last thing on your mind was sex, but he was just too damn big to go in dry.

You knew this would be the case, it always was, and you didn’t mind the momentary discomfort if it meant that everything would be okay soon.

“Okay.” You said with a nod, voice quiet and a little heavy.

His hands had settled on your hips under the shirt, feeling your soft skin against his, and at your words one shifted down so his thumb could start to make little circles on your clit.

Your eyelids fluttered at the touch, another little wave of arousal forming, but this time maintaining at a low simmer as he works your body.

Charon watches as the flush forms on your skin, your breaths coming just a little faster.

This only goes for as long as it takes for you to get wet and pliant, which isn’t long as you’ve always been sensitive.

Once he deemed it safe, he removed his thumb and brought his hand up to cradle your cheek. “Ready?” He asked and received a nod in response.

He’d been half hard when you returned to the living room, but in the process of touching you, he’d grown to full mast pressed between your warm bodies.

Your legs were a little shakier as he helped you rise and line up before sinking down with a quiet sigh of relief, tension releasing immediately.

“That’s it…Nice and slow…” He cooed as you sank down on him, his own breathing growing heavy at the stimulation.

Once you were fully seated on him, he pulled you to his chest, resting his chin on your head and relaxing into the couch cushions, one hand resting on your lower back while the other wrapped around you, fingers running lightly through your hair as you let out a deep breath, going boneless.

The twitching energy in your body, that unpleasant buzzing, ebbed slowly as you rested against Charon’s firm body, warm and solid again you. His steady heartbeat in your ear where it laid against his chest.

Your hands dipped under his arms to wrap around his waist, slipping under his shirt to rest against his skin.

“Do you want it off?” He whispered to you.

“Mm-mm…” You declined with the slightest of shakes of your head. “This is perfect…” The words came out as a slurred mumble, already starting to drift in a sea of comfort.

Neither of you knows how long you’ll be like this, but Charon is content to stay there for however long you need.

“…Love you…”

“I love you too.”

[randoimago]

Can you do Charon x reader who is a jewelry maker and loves to make him some. In my headcanon is that Charon has a great fondness for jewelry this is because his in game appearance.

Fandom: Hades

Character(s): Charon

Note(s): I like to imagine that Charon tries to seem less intimidating to certain souls (children, for example), they'd give Charon jewelry that they had with them as a "thanks for keeping me safe" and Charon would wear it. That could just be me loving the trope of scary monster being the gentlest when it comes to interacting with kids.

Charon

Charon does his best to keep a basket on his ferry for any gems or beads he's found while rowing. He knows you like making jewelry so it's the least he can do to support you.

He's rather busy with his job so he can't always stay put to watch you make various pieces. Charon does perk up a bit when you do offer him something now and then.

If you're okay with it, he contemplates selling some of your jewelry for when Zagreus visits his shop. He doesn't really imbue them with anything special, but maybe if Zagreus finds a daedalus hammer then he can work something out. Plus it's money for your work.

[thepigeonhasapen]

hey can i request for charon from hades x male nymph reader who is a chef in the house of hades headcanons

Of course! This is my first time writing for Charon tho so forgive me if it's not great. Also I try to keep all reader inserts as gender-neutral as possible so I hope you don't mind, sorry! Hope you like it :D

🛶Charon/Chef!Reader Headcanons🛶

I imagine you meet through Zagreus as Charon doesn't visit the House very often. It's not that he's banned from it or anything, he just much prefers to be on his own. So Zagreus is really his only source of gossip. Luckily, Zagreus is chatty as hell and mentions you to Charon almost immediately. Hades rarely hires new staff so of course Charon's interest is piqued. He's even more interested when Zagreus brings him some food you've made. Now, Charon doesn't usually care for food one way or the other. He appreciates the Nectar Zagreus brings him, but honestly he'd be equally as appreciative of like a cool rock or something. Still, something about your food is intriguing to Charon. Maybe it’s your nymph heritage impacting the way you cook? After all, nymphs are rare in the Underworld.

Charon kinda lowkey pesters Zagreus to bring him more of your cooking. Zagreus happily does, but he also meddles because he's Zagreus and I'm pretty sure that man physically does not know how to not meddle. He'll start by mentioning to you that you've got a fan in the Underworld.

"You know... Charon's been going nuts for your cooking. Well, I mean, as much as he's capable of going nuts for anything really."

He'll also encourage Charon to go see you in person himself. It occurs to Charon that yeah. That is a thing he could do actually. He doesn't really care for the House but you intrigue him so he'll manage. For a few visits at least anyway.

I choose to believe that Charon is fully capable of making himself understood by anyone if he actually wants to talk to them. He simply doesn't bother most of the time because he just genuinely wants everyone to go away and leave him to his own business. However this isn't common knowledge so you're surprised when you find you can understand Charon. You certainly weren't able to understand him when he first picked you up from Erebus.

Charon gravitates most to the open, bold, chatty type, but he can appreciate it if you're quiet and somber instead. Be a decent person, treat him with respect and kindness, and Charon will keep coming back.

Nyx likes that you've encouraged her eldest son to visit more often and will draw you aside and tell you so. Which is probably quite alarming because she hardly ever talks to you. (Canonically she does tell Dusa off for talking with Zag, but it's different in this case. Charon is perfectly alright cutting ties if people push his boundaries too much, unlike Zag who will try to work it out.) Hypnos also stops by to thank you, because now he gets to see his brother more often! Also congratulations. By befriending Charon you have now earned the respect of both Thanatos and Hypnos! Thanatos is more subtle about it, but Hypnos is now so fully intrigued by your ability to draw his brother's attention that he will routinely ditch work to come hang out with you. I hope you don't expect him to help with cooking though. Hypnos is more of a sit on the counter and gossip kind of colleague.

Charon starts to make a point to visit you as often as he can. Like his brother, he'll sit with you, but unlike Hypnos he'll actually use a chair like a proper adult. He finds it fascinating to just sit quietly and watch you work, and will occasionally rumble out a question about what you're doing. May potentially be enticed to chop vegetables or stir something, but really he'd just prefer to watch. He can't help that he finds you so enthralling!

Kind of a nuisance to be perfectly honest. Won't outright steal food but he will stare at you with puppy-dog eyes until you let him taste. And once you two grow close, Charon becomes a lot touchier. Will stand directly behind you with his arms around your waist and rest his chin on your shoulder.

Scary dog privileges activated. Because Charon likes you, you have amazing job security. If you're ever fired, Charon will be over the moon because now he gets you all to himself immediately find you another place to continue your cooking. They aren't as prestigious as the House, but there are still bars and restaurants in Elysium he can find work for you, if that's what you want to do. If you're really broken up about it though, Charon will just straight up go on strike. Look, he's besties with Zagreus and he'll still charge him like fifty bucks for a sandwich even if he's on the brink of death. My man is a petty bitch.

[strawberrykidneystone]

more than what’s in the contract

fem! lone wanderer x charon

summary: lone is just so... good. too good for him. he's only serving them because of his contract. at least that's what he tells himself. if he was being honest, he would follow her to the ends of the earth, contract or not. he couldn't possibly fathom that she would feel the same, but a little part of him couldn't help but hope.

a/n: i loved fallout 3 but i hated the underground tunnel system so much😭😭😭

tws: fluff, cuddling, yearning, first kiss, set earlyish in game

ao3 version

charon and lone stopped in an old red rocket gas station for the night, they were too far away from any settlement before night would be upon them, so this was the next best thing. charon was doing his usual routine of repairing both his and lone's weapons from their daily usage, taking extra care with her long-range weapons since those are her most used. he knows that she is perfectly capable of doing this herself, but the routine calms him and it makes him feel good to do something for her that he knows will keep her safe. besides stepping in front of her at any sign of danger.

she had to have noticed. in the beginning of their partnership, sure, he would walk side by side with her and keep her safe as their contract stated. but now, he loomed behind her and was hypervigilant to every little noise around them, looking for even the smallest indication of a threat.

she never made him do anything, even with the contract. she was always careful with her wording, asking him to do things, “if you don’t mind”, instead of flat-out commanding him like his previous masters. lone tried to give him his contact back immediately after purchasing it and kept trying to sneak it into his pack, but he insisted that she keep it. even if it’s for his own comfort that he’s doing this for his contract, not just for her.

he always listened to her in their travels, whether it be about threedog’s commentary on their travels or the life that she knew in the vault. he would grunt every so often so she knew that he heard her, but he never spoke more than he needed to. from what he heard about her life in the vault, he would shoot butch on sight if he ever saw him. he knew she wouldn’t like that, but anyone who bullied lone was an enemy of his.

lone tried talking to him about his life and wanted to know more about him in general, but all she ever got was him deepening his usual scowl and muttering something incoherent. she quickly realized he was more of a “take action” type of person rather than a “speaking person. she noticed the way that he would wordlessly take the heavier gear out of her pack and put it into his, always let her have the last bite of their shared meals, and make repairs to her gear without her asking. she appreciated everything he did and thanked him every time she noticed, but he never seemed to acknowledge her thanks. she figured he was more of a “strong silent type” like she had read in her books growing up and honestly, it made her heart flutter. even though they didn’t talk much, his presence was calming to her and she hoped that he found solace in her presence as well.

charon finished repairing lone’s weapons and grunted as he stood up to return them to her pack. lone was lying on her makeshift bed and her pack was conveniently right next to her side. charon strode over and crouched down, gently slipping the weapons back into her pack. as he closed the top, lone placed her hand on top of his before he could pull it away and looked up at him. he froze from the sudden contact and slowly looked down at her, making intense eye contact as she managed to whisper a quick ‘thank you’ before pulling her hand back, letting the moment pass.

the two had many moments like this and to be honest, it was driving both of them insane. the brush against shoulders as they walked down abandoned hallways, pinkies touching when they walked side by side, hands touching when they passed ammo back and forth to each other. it was all getting too much. charon grunted and nodded, shyly looking away before hastily making his way back to his corner.

lone fiddled with the radio knob on her pip-boy, settling in threedog’s radio at a low volume to create some background noise while they slept. suddenly, she flicked the radio off and sat up. she couldn’t keep these feelings in anymore and she decided to do something about it.

she quietly walked over the charon’s section of the floor that he insisted on sleeping on and kneeled down in front of him. charon glanced up at her and furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. they usually stayed in their respective areas once they settled down for the night, why was she over here?

he sat up and faced her, their faces only a few inches away from each other. lone looked into his eyes in search of any sign of discomfort or disdain. when she found none, she slowly reached up and cupped his cheeks in her hands. charon watched her every movement like a hawk circling its prey but made no move to stop her. her hands were warm as they surrounded his textured skin, suddenly making him self-conscious about the muscle windows that were visible on his face.

but she didn’t seem to care.

lone tilted her head and leaned in until their lips were only a hair away from each other, she could feel his breath hitch at their closeness. he had to stop himself from trembling, he never thought that they would be this close.

“tell me to stop and i will,” lone whispered and looked to him for any sign of discomfort.

he swallowed thickly and gave a curt nod, avoiding her eyes, “do whatever you want.”

lone sighed and pulled back a little, “i’m not going to do this if you don’t-“

charon smashed his lips into hers, holding his hands over to keep her soft touch on his cheeks. she was surprised at the sudden kiss, their teeth clacking together at first, but they quickly fell into a rhythm with her lips connecting to his like two puzzle pieces fitting together. he leaned into her desperately, pouring all of his unsaid feelings into the kiss and unconsciously leaning forward. their chests pressed together and she grabbed his hands, guiding them to her waist. his touch was hesitant at first, feeling as if he was tarnishing a pure piece of art. her arms wrapped around his neck with one of her hands tangling into the patchy hair on the back of his head. her touch relaxed him, giving him the confidence to lay his hands flat on her sides, giving an affectionate squeeze to her sides.

lone begrudgingly drew back from the kiss, panting for air with her face flushed. charon chased after her lips and gave her one more quick peck as she was catching her breath. he studied every inch of her face, god she’s never looked so beautiful before. she leaned her forehead against his and closed her eyes, letting a comfortable silence fill the room as both of their minds raced at something they’ve been wanting to do for so long.

charon pulled her down with him as he laid on his back, keeping her on top of his chest. she adjusted to their new position and slipped her around his torso, comfortably laying her head on his chest.

the pair didn’t speak, they didn’t have to. after being on the road with one another for a while, they learned to know what the other was thinking.

and right now, they knew that something had shifted. they crossed over the line of being just traveling companions, or as lone would say, friends, and into the lover's territory, where both of them were strangers.

good thing they didn’t have to do it alone.

that was a problem for the morning anyways. right now, they were in each other's arms and that’s all that mattered.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Girl now I need a one-shot of free-use with Charon. Like imagine just getting bent over one of those random abandoned picnic tables or waking up with him in your tent/room. Hnsnxcbbfsbxb I need to go lay down-

When Lightening Strikes

Pairing: Charon x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,724

Warnings: smut (18+), dubcon, free use kink, size difference, no real foreplay/poor preparation, rough sex, creampie, very brief aftercare, established relationship.

Notes: Charon fans, please enjoy this little appetizer that will hopefully tide you over until the already-9,000 word virgin reader fic I have for him is completed some time next month. Thank you for the ask, Anon, and thanks for your patience! Something short and sweet from me, for once; this one's straight up PWP, folks.

For an absolutely hulking mountain of a man, your bodyguard and companion moved in surprising silence when he chose to. True, neither of you would have called stealth a particularly strong skill of his if asked, but in moments of need, he could be serviceably quiet for a man of his hulking stature. Despite this, it still unsettled you a bit how he was able to teleport right into your bubble sometimes.

Or maybe it only seemed that way because you'd been all but completely asleep when he quietly made his way into your tent.

The two of you had stopped to make camp earlier in the evening than you usually did, attributable to the sickly green radstorm that could be seen rolling up along the horizon from some distance. Personally, you felt just fine walking through the less-intense storms, provided you were adequately covered up and had a few Rad-X capsules to pop, but your bodyguard refused to allow it, insisting that you take cover the moment the first rumble of thunder rolled through the air.

Choosing the most intact crumbled building around, what seemed like it had been some sort of storefront in another era, you set to erecting the little pup tent you carried around with you, tucked away in the corner under the intact portion of the floor above, granting you a sort of double roof. You were pleased, as Charon was prone to griping and moving your whole setup if your tent got wet. Besides, it would be unpleasant to be awoken by the leaking, irradiated rain falling on you.

You took the Rad-X anyway, just to be safe.

While you worked, the massive man began his typical routine of inspecting the area, searching high and low for any potential traps or threats. When he was satisfied that the two of you were safe and alone, he built a small fire, picking a very large rock out of the rubble scattered around and dragging it to just outside your tent. You shook your head gently. Every night was the same; he'd sit and keep watch, cleaning and maintaining that riot shotgun he loved so much, or maybe one of his other weapons, while smoking like a chimney. Many times you'd offered to share your tent or take watch yourself so he could get some rest, offers that went unaccepted time and time again. He didn't rest, as a rule of thumb; that was quite clear.

He had, however, recently taken to visiting you at night sometimes, when the conditions were just right.

You never knew how to predict when it would happen, despite studying him and his habits almost too closely over the last several weeks. All you knew was that when he wanted sex with you, he took it, and something about that gave you a thrill that you were actively chasing, even now. If you couldn't initiate, never really knowing when he was in the proper mood, maybe you could inspire the mood and hope for the best.

Once your tent was fully erected, you toed off your boots and set them in the corner beside your laid out bedroll before poking out, your nipples already pebbling from the slight chill in the air.

"I'm turning in now if you don't need anything." you said, knowing full well he would never ask for anything from you. "I'll see you in the morning. Maybe we can hit the road a little early to make up for having to stop early today."

With that, you allowed yourself the familiar gesture of saddling up beside him, pressing the length of your body against his side as you leaned in and gave him a little peck on the cheek. He didn't respond much, save for a glance towards you as he briefly paused whatever he was doing with the disassembled rifle in his hands. That little pause and sideways glance was more of a reaction than you were typically able to get out of him, however.

It was because of this that you were unsurprised, though still a bit confused with the fog of unconsciousness, when he appeared in the small space, a large part of his body undoubtedly exposed as he loomed at the entrance of the ratty tent. He didn't say anything as you slowly regained your bearings, simply sitting there studying you where you laid on your thin bedroll, the only sound the tip-tapping of the light rain on the building's bones.

"Mmh? What's wrong?" you called into the dark, heart already racing in your ears, only able to make out the vague shape of him there, relaxing incrementally as he crawled towards you in the small space until he sat at your feet.

"Want you." he said simply, massive hands gripping your thighs and yanking your entire body forward, closing the small remaining gap between you. Your legs rested along his as he kneeled over you. He didn't say anything more, pulling away the jacket you'd been using in lieu of a blanket, his touch roaming over your clothed torso and crotch. He was funny like that, rather flowery and loquacious from time to time, spitting out memorized lines, but shifting into truncated, simple speech when he had to respond in earnest, like it made him uncomfortable to do so.

"Is it safe?" you breathed, body squirming unconsciously as he moved to unbuckle your pants and undo your fly with surprising deftness. You were unsure what it was about this particular camping spot that made him feel more reassured than any of the others, but you trusted his judgment; he always protected you very capably, though whether it was because he truly wanted to or because you "held" his contract (in the most literal sense), you were sometimes unsure.

No answer came for your question, of course, only him jamming his hand between your now bare-to-the-knee legs, playing with your swelling cunt roughly as the other one busied itself undoing his belts, the weathered metal of the buckles clinking and tapping along one another as he did.

"Ahh!" you exclaimed at the feeling of his calloused fingers on the most delicate parts of you, wriggling in his grasp unconsciously as he stroked and prodded your clit, slipping his fingers up your shirt to pinch and tug at your nipples.

"Shh." he responded calmly, pulling himself over top of you completely and placing his lips to your throat, butting your head out of the way with his own and inhaling your smell deeply. The vibrations in your ear buzzed down your spine and made you clench and whimper, only fueling him further.

Seemingly satisfied with how wet you were, he grabbed your rather dirty bottoms by the ankles and jerked them the rest of the way off your legs, discarding the grimy article off somewhere to the side. Your still-socked feet slid up his broad, rough chest as he yanked you even closer, your ass riding up high on his muscled thighs as you felt him wrestling with his fly. You'd yet to actually see his cock, or touch it with your hands; the only times you felt it were moments like this, where he brushed you softly as he moved into position. You weren't sure if you believed it was possible that he was as big as he felt.

Your whole body tensed as he slid inside, most of his length parting you quick and hard, knocking the air out of you so thoroughly you couldn't even cry out. Nonetheless, he covered your mouth with his hand as he pulled back, giving one or two shallow thrusts before fully burying himself to the hilt. The hot shock of the sudden stretch was enough to force you to find your voice, your whines filtering through your nose as he began to fuck you.

He was always so quiet at times like this, even moreso than usual even if that genuinely didn't seem possible. You found it nearly impossible to stay completely quiet once he began touching you, even your breathing becoming louder and more dramatic. He, however, didn't seem to hardly breathe at all, like he was still listening for any unexpected sounds outside of the tent, a piece of his mind always firmly focused on monitoring for danger.

It ended rather quickly, but you weren't surprised; nothing about the way he was moving, the harsh way he plucked at your clit and pounded away at you with a great deal of his body weight, communicated that he was trying to prolong things. He let out an incredibly short little grunt as his strokes lost their rhythm, slamming himself as deep as possible as he came, pulsing strongly against your cervix and coating the back of your throat with the taste of electricity.

Your lover didn't pull away from you instantly as he usually did, though, letting himself linger in the crook of your neck, this time actually laying a few soft, simple kisses there as his fingers began to move in smoother, softer circles around your clit once more. His ministrations sent you squirming and mewling, still caged beneath him; he cupped your sweaty face and slipped the tip of his thumb into your mouth to silence you. It didn't take long for him to finish you off, sending you shuddering and clenching around his cock as you lost yourself, curling up against his chest as he rumbled, pleased-sounding.

After you finished, however, he did pull away rather unceremoniously, leaving you panting and completely dazed as he retrieved your jacket out of the dark and tucked it over your uncovered lower half. Lying there disoriented, you drew the worn jacket back up in an attempt to combat the tremble that shook your entire being.

"Go back to sleep." he murmured, his tone neutral, but not indifferent as he slipped back out the tent's flap door. As the rain outside continued to patter over the crumbled city block, you could just barely make out the sound of a lighter striking. The last things you noted clearly before exhausted sleep took you once more, willing or no, was the gentle roll of thunder still electrifying the air, the warm leak of Charon's cum running down your inner thigh.

Next pit stop, he was going to owe you big time.

[rzyraffek]

little things that annoy me about fallout fandom :0 >:(

Arcade Gannon

YOU ALL NEED TO CALM DOWN YEAH HE IS GAY WE KNOW. look he is a great character and even better represenation! even for this day and its been 13years! please im tried of people making him little uwu boi. HE IS AN ANARCHIST SARCASTIC GUY who i love ofcourse :D but pls yall need to sit down and stop making him a femboy

Hancock

as much as i love this guy... his whole personality isnt being stoned pls make something more intresting up.

Paladin Danse

he wasnt a horrible person before BB, he never been! yall act like his morals complety changed, but only thing that changed is being a synth. litteraly he is still the same guy, with the same mindset, he just hates robots less

Deacon and Boone

their whole personality isnt "man i miss my wife" yeah as much as Boone still mensions her sometimes and he still feels horrible(vaild) Deacon whole arc isnt "omg my wife is dead yall, but im emo now" pls

Ulysses

okay decon isnt emo but you know who is? he is, the edge. theres no complain here im just reminding you all how awesome he is

Vulpes

hes a furry. also he is voiced by the same guy that voices Silco from Arcane

Butch

THIS GUY HAS ZERO REDEMPTION ARC PLEASE STOP MAKING HIM MAGICALLY A BETTER PERSON CUZ BCS LONE WAS NICE TO HIM ONCE

Charon

he is not a babygrill, he would choke anyone if he could, yes even Sole

I am open for discussion

[miss-dollette]

Me consuming the small amount of good Charon x Female Lone Wanderer content

[acapelladitty]

I was one of the Charon anons and I can’t speak for them but I really don’t have an opinion on any of his characterizations considering how little he gets in the game. I just imagine him being a little gross or creepy at times. You’re an excellent writer so I think if you did decide to write something for him it would come out great!

Have a sneak peek and let me know! 💖💀 And I like that I have more than one Charon anon!! Gee, Willie, how come your mom let's you have TWO ghoulfucker anons 😂😂

Knees pressing into the cheap mattress as they clamp widely around his thick hips, you shiver in place as you grind yourself into his groin, the hairless area covered in delightfully textured skin which feels wonderful against your throbbing cunt. He's like a mattress in his own right as he lays beneath you, his massive height allowing him to fill the space without effort and you feel deliciously small as you rub yourself against him like a wanton bitch in heat.

"And you promise me you want this?" You gasp out, hands splaying across his broad chest and marvelling at just how tiny your digits look against the wide expanse of his pitted skin. He's hotter than hell itself and the curves of his exposed muscles, marred by erratic scores of battle scarring, feel strange agains your palms. "Not because of the contract, but because you want this."

"I'm nobody's errand boy and I'm nobody's whore." Charon growls and you can tell he's irritated by the scowl which darkens his sunken gaze and the slight snap to his hoarse tones. "You think you could make me fuck you if I didn't want to?"

"No, but-"

"Then shut up and let me fuck you."

[angel-of-the-moons]

Charon Masterlist

Fallout Masterlist

❤️‍🔥 -- Means NSFW

💘 -- Means Eventual NSFW

🍰 -- Means Fluff

🥀 -- Means Angst

❤️‍🔥 -- A Most Familiar Color (Charon x Fem!Lone Wanderer)

[moonmaiden1996]

Can you please write Charon(Kaos) x reader?

I was not sure where to go with this but hopefully this is what your looking for!

The underworld had changed. The echoes of torment that once reverberated through its labyrinthine halls had given way to an unnatural stillness, as though the land itself held its breath. Zeus had fallen, and with him, the oppressive chains of the Olympians had shattered. Charon was free—unbound from servitude, liberated from the promise made to Prometheus.

No longer the ferryman, his purpose had shifted. The ashen gray of his lifeless skin had given way to a warm caramel bronze, faintly aglow as though an inner flame had been rekindled. The drab, threadbare overalls of his servitude had transformed into flowing robes of sapphire, their color vivid against his luminous flesh. He no longer looked like the spectral servant he once was, chained to the eternal drudgery of the Styx. Now, he stood reborn—a god radiant, commanding, and whole.

The river Styx still flowed, but it no longer demanded his presence. Souls crossed its waters freely now, their forms renewed, unburdened by the suffering they had carried in life. Among them, you emerged, your figure luminous against the shadows of the underworld. Vitality radiated from you—a strange, quiet power that even the glow of renewal could not explain.

Charon noticed you immediately. His gaze, dark as the void yet alive with distant flickers of light, settled on you from the shadows. While others wandered the terrain of this strange afterlife, aimless but content, you stood apart—not in appearance, but in essence. Something about you sang to him in a language older than time, stirring something deep within.

Desire. A gift left behind by Prometheus—a reminder that freedom was not only an end, but a beginning.

You felt his presence before you saw him. It wasn’t the chill of death that brushed against you, but a warm, electric sensation that sent shivers down your spine and made the air around you feel heavy, charged. Turning, you saw him for the first time—tall, commanding, otherworldly. His very form radiated a power that pressed against the edges of your soul, vast and incomprehensible. Yet his eyes, those endless voids, burned with a startling warmth that made your breath hitch.

"You linger," he said, his deep, resonant voice rumbling through the stillness like the distant roll of thunder. The sound seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, settling deep in your chest.

"I—" you faltered, your voice small beneath the weight of his presence. "I don’t know where to go...I feel like I want to stay."

He tilted his head slightly, the motion unnervingly smooth but strangely captivating. He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, as though the world itself shifted to accommodate him. "Do you feel it, little soul? The pull between us?"

Your pulse—or whatever it was that now thrummed within you—quickened. "I don’t understand."

"You will." He extended a hand toward you, long fingers encased in gauntlets of obsidian that shimmered faintly as though starlight was trapped within them. "Come with me."

Though a knot of trepidation tightened in your chest, your body moved without thought, drawn forward by a force you could not explain. When your hand met his, heat flooded through you—not the gentle warmth of a summer sun, but a consuming fire that wrapped around you and held you fast. It wasn’t cruel, but it wasn’t gentle either. It claimed.

He led you to a building that seemed wholly out of place—an apartment complex, its blocky silhouette strange against the vastness of the underworld’s expanse. The mundane familiarity of its structure unnerved you, though not as much as the sterile interior of the room he brought you to. The space was clinical, empty save for the barest of furnishings. Yet none of it mattered. Not when his eyes remained fixed on you, sharp and unyielding, as though he could strip away your very essence with a glance.

"Prometheus bound me to servitude for eons," he said, his voice quieter now but no less commanding. "He made me their ferryman, chaining me to the Styx, to help me set in motion Zeus's destruction. Now, I am free, and with freedom comes clarity..." His tone dipped, rich with intent. "I must have a companion."

The weight of his words pressed against you, heavy and inescapable. "A... companion?" you repeated, the word trembling on your lips.

"A partner," he corrected, his voice brooking no hesitation, no doubt. "The renewed dead are no longer frail. You are eternal, unshackled, powerful. You will be beside me forever."

The boldness of his proclamation left you breathless. But even as the audacity of it rang in your ears, you felt the pull—a deep, resonant thrum that called to you as much as it called to him. His presence was overwhelming, magnetic. Irresistible.

"What if I refuse?" you asked, surprising even yourself with the defiance in your voice.

Charon chuckled, a sound low and resonant, like the collision of distant stars. "You will not. You feel the bond as I do. Deny it if you wish, but it will consume you, as it consumes me."

He reached for you again, his hand cupping your chin with a gentleness that belied the strength of his presence. The void in his eyes softened, galaxies dimming to reveal something startlingly intimate—desire, longing, and an unspoken promise.

"I am no longer the ferryman," he said, his voice low but firm. "I am once again, Charon, a man, unburdened from duty. And you, little soul, are mine."

The words settled heavily between you, an undeniable truth. You felt the bond thrumming in every corner of your being, a thread woven into the very fabric of your existence. To deny him would be to deny yourself.

"I don’t know what this means," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

"It means," he said, pulling you closer until you were enveloped in his warmth, "that you will never be alone. We can finally feel complete"

When his lips brushed your forehead, the gesture was startlingly tender for one so fearsome. Yet within that touch, you felt the bond solidify—an unbreakable tether that bound your fates. The cosmos within him surged, and for the first time, you felt as though you truly belonged.

So what do you think?

As always LIKE. COMMENT. REQUEST. If you request please give me anything specific you might want to read.