#charon x reader

[everydayyoulovemeless]

Day 1: Welcome Home ↠ Charon

➼ Word Count » 1.5k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Slice of Life, Platonic/Romantic

"Hey, Charon?" You called from the top floor in the Megaton house the two of you had somehow managed to snag. "Can you remind me to pay Moira for decorating the next time we visit her?"

His tired and monotone eyes trailed their way over to where you had begun to come down the stairs, "Sure." He croaked, moving to pocket a handful of caps.

Inevitably, when you went to see the shop owner, you'd forget to actually bring the caps you owed. You always did. Something about how growing up in a vault never required you to keep any kind of currency on you at all times, and it was a force of habit for you to forget. But it wouldn't matter because he would already have them on his person. An easy enough task for him to complete and a part of him found counting the aluminum fun in its own right.

You zigzagged around the house, grabbing at anything you might need before you left. You rummaged through drawers and snatched things off shelves until you finally felt ready enough to complete some of your errands around the town.

"Do you wanna come? It shouldn't take too long. I just need to visit a few people." You smoothed your hands down your shirt, peering up at the rugged man before you as you spoke.

You smiled when you saw him give you a small nod. You quickly holstered your gun to the side of your belt, and then the two of you were off, Dogmeat panting at your heels.

There were many times in the vault when you'd wonder about how the outside world looked compared to the steel of 101, but as you walked out into the blindly bright sun, you found yourself wishing to go back to those simpler days of artificial light.

You brought your hand up over your eyes, desperate to fend off the blaring rays that shot straight into your retinas. You felt yourself adjusting to the sudden change as you squinted your eyes at the environment around you.

"Hey, kid!" Jericho's painfully familiar voice rang out as he noticed you step out, "Keep your problems out of Megaton. We've already had a few Enclave members come askin' about you, and I don't like lying for you."

You let out an amused breath, "You? Not wanting to lie? Be serious, J."

You intended the words playfully, but you doubted he picked up on that. He never did. Everything had to be a fight with him.

"I am being serious." He sneered, clearly annoyed by your joking attitude, "Next time, I'm telling them to torch your house."

You saw Charon's lip twitch ever so slightly at the sound of his threat, but he never got the chance to say what he wanted to say as Jericho adjusted his gun to be in his hands, and left down toward the entrance of the city.

The only bad thing about your home that still rings true is your one neighbor. Not only is he one of the most overtly friendly people you've ever met, but his house is a dump.

Every time you pass it, there's garbage littering the outskirts of the building. You'd complain if you weren't so afraid of him shooting you for it. Honestly, he couldn't make it look any worse if he tried.

Charon didn't seem to like him either. The one time you asked him about it you were met with a dry chuckle and a subtle roll of his eyes.

"He's... probably not being serious." You chuckled nervously, trying to lighten the ghoul's mood. He didn't answer you, though, keeping his gaze locked onto the former raider.

----------

You had envisioned how your life would look a few times back in the vault, but never had you imagined that you'd be living with a ghoul in a dirty old house, directly outside 101. It almost felt taboo, especially knowing that everyone you grew up around only lived a few feet away.

An odd feeling, but an even odder way of life. You supposed it was for the best. Even though you were 100x more at risk of dying, you found yourself much happier than you would've ever imagined yourself being had you stayed.

And happy you were as you lounged on your couch with the ghoul. Your feet in his lap, not because you put them there, but because he moved them on top of him when he sat down.

You peeked over the top of your magazine at him in curiosity. He'd been getting more and more comfortable ever since he agreed to move in with you. Sure, a part of it was his job, but there had to be something else, right? Maybe he was finally allowing himself to be more relaxed?

"What?" He grunted, looking up from where he was tinkering with his gun to stare at you.

"Nothing, nothing." You waved dismissively, going back to reading Grognak on the couch.

----------

"Have you ever gone sightseeing downtown?" You asked from where you stood in the kitchen.

"No." He answered, "There's nothing to see."

You hummed in thought for a moment, before speaking, "We should go some time. I bet we could find something worth looking at."

He only grunted, coming over from the couch to sit at the dinky dinner table that sat cramped in the corner of your impossibly small kitchen.

One of the biggest things you missed from the vault was that the kitchens actually worked. You didn't even want to think about how long it took you just to catch a flame on the stove.

"It's dangerous downtown," Charon muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair.

"Since when has that ever been an issue for you?" You teased, stirring the mutfruit you had sprinkled in your pan around. "Maybe when we start heading back to the Citadel we can explore a few extra places."

You didn't know what it was, but you found the city to be one of the prettiest places in all of the Capital Wasteland. If nothing else, then how populated it must've been before the war.

So many people in one place must've been exciting to see and you only wished you could've been around to see it before it went away.

Your head turned at the flurry of quick knocks on the door. You turned the dial down to a lower setting and wiped your hands, as you followed Charon toward the front to answer it.

"Oh, uh, hey there." Gob rasped when he found himself face to face with the bodyguard.

"Gob!" You greeted, pushing past the massive ghoul to hug the other, "How are you? It's been so long since you've last visited!"

"Heh, yeah," He chuckled awkwardly, "Well, I'll probably have a lot more time on my hands now."

"Really?" You asked, "Why's that?"

"You didn't hear? Moriarity was found dead last night. Security's searching for the culprit right now, but I don't think they're trying too hard."

You feigned shock at the news, turning to stare into Charon's blank expression with slight mischief.

"I wonder who could've done that." You wondered out loud, knowing full well what you and you're roommate had been planning for a week prior. "So, you own the saloon now?"

"That's what I've been told." He replied, scratching the back of his head, "Well, I'll leave you alone now. Just wanted to try out this new freedom thing."

You hummed thoughtfully, grinning widely at the bartender who stood before you.

"Why don't you come inside for a little bit? We can celebrate!" You cheered, already pulling him inside your home before he could answer. You poured three drinks for all of you as you spoke, "I've almost finished making mutfruit omelets if you want one."

"Ah, no thanks, this drink is more than enough," Gob answered, sitting hunched over on the couch.

----------

"Ah, hello!" Moira greeted excitedly, pulling you quickly into a tight embrace before pushing you back, hands still firmly planted on your shoulders as she spoke, "Did your gun break again? I've been thinking about it a lot and may have found a more reliable and permanent solution to the problem! All that's left is to test it!"

"Aw, thanks! But no, I'm here to finally pay you what I owe." You said, patting yourself down for caps, although, you paled when you didn't feel any. You felt yourself freeze in place as you tried to think up an excuse as to how you forgot to bring the amount needed. Charon's rough hand on your shoulder broke you out of that, however, as he dropped them into her open hand.

"Thank you!" She beamed, "I was about to start charging interest! So, you're lucky you brought it now!"

"Y-yeah, well, you know how I t-try to stay uh... reliable." You stuttered. You weren't even sure what you were saying. All you knew was that you were so incredibly relieved that you didn't have to make a fool of yourself.

You shot a grateful glance back at the ghoul, his emotionless gaze feeling more and more reassuring every time you met them, and you felt that they'd only continue to comfort you the longer you were around him.

[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]

Annoyingly Sweet, innocent, and kind-hearted Lone Wanderer and her cheerful Vault Dweller attitude putting her through hell as she gets the worst bargains from merchants and traders because her naivety doesn’t allow her to realize she’s getting ripped off. Or she simply wouldn’t allow herself to acknowledge someone would do that to another person.

Oh, she’s so courteous to them. Why would they rip her off? Isn’t it everyone’s duty to treat others as you want to be treated? At least, that’s what was taught in the Vaults.

It was until she picked up Charon‘s contract that things suddenly got a whole lot cheaper. They’d see Sweet LW practically dance into their shop and think “hah, this sucker again. Let’s scam her for all she’s got,” and then they see all of 6’8” Charon with a scowl that could make a flower wilt, duck under the door and scope out the scenery before landing on their terrified ass.

Poor LW would probably think her kindness finally rubbed off on the greedy fucks, and just skip away from the shaking merchant, her caps jingling in her pockets.

“See that, Charon - I knew they’d finally come around! A positive attitude can always get you through a rough day! :D”

“*tired and annoyed Grumble...”

“That’s the spirit!! :D”

[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.

[acapelladitty]

I imagine Charon takes a substantial amount of pleasure just watching his girl try to take all of him. He’d like to watch her moan and cry.

Much like the man himself, Charon's cock was huge and his delight in watching you struggle to accept him was clear. His ragged pants and subtle smirks made the ache worth it as he stretched you out, but it wasn't just his sheer size that stole your breath away.

Pitted and ridged, the textured skin of his cock was a heavenly hell of its own making - the tight stretch of your skin forcing you to feel every roughened patch as it ground a delicious friction against your walls.

It was a constant, dull pressure that sparked tears in your eyes and made your thighs tremble as your body was held in place, almost like a doll, by Charon's impossibly strong grip as he fucked himself into you; slowly enough to ensure no real damage could tear at you but with a steely force that told you that you would take every inch until your body couldn't possibly accept any more.

"Is good?" Charon's accented voice asked quietly, his tuft of reddish hair looking damp from the effort of restraining himself for impaling you completely.

Not daring to speak due to the low whines which escaped your throat, you widen your thighs even further and nod - not missing the proud look which Charon flashes down at your gritted teeth as he pushes himself forward another inch and allows his cock to sit flush against your cervix.

Send me a prompt and I'll write a 5 sentence nsfw fic for it.

[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 to be 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 arms 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.

[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.

[demigoddessqueens]

Can I request for a hades charon x reader who loves to cook and bake for him as a sign of love.

That is so sweet 🥹💞

♡ [ unwind ] to chill out with them at the end of the day, in one another’s company

Prompts HERE

VALENTINES LIST

It’s very rare Charon is relieved from his ferry duties but he’s excited to see when you when he can

Baking is so therapeutic to him, a nice and cozy slice of life to the gloominess of death in the Underworld

He thinks you’re a better chef than him but it’s the thought and efforts that counts 💕

On the days he can’t pull away to visit you, it’s a welcomed surprise when you show up with treats in hand

Freshly baked honeyed sweets and making conversation on your visits do enough to warm his chilled ghostly heart

[ihavemanyhusbands]

A Quick Fix

“Trust me, if you find some lucky guy to try this with, you’ll be on him like a crazed Yao Guai.” 

-

Also on AO3

Pairing: Charon x Fem!Lone Wanderer (reader)

WC: 3.1k words

Summary: You -- the lone wanderer -- are persuaded by a Rivet City vendor to buy some Ant Queen Pheromones to try out with Charon... what's the worst that could happen?

Warnings: use of aphrodisiac (queen ant pheromones), so like sex pollen trope basically, pre-established (though secret) relationship, smut, very enthusiastic consent, unprotected p in v, irradiated creampie, oral (m receiving), ghoul sex, swearing, biting, sillyyyy ending, and uhhhhh i think thats it but lmk if anything else!

————

You weren’t sure why you’d let Cindy Cantelli talk you into buying it. You were just trying to get regular medical supplies, declining her offer of high-quality chems as usual. But then her eyes slyly drifted to Charon, your constant shadow, and she leaned in conspiratorially.

“I’ve got something pretty rare that you might be interested in trying,” she whispered, raising an eyebrow slightly. “You might even thank me later.”

You raised your eyebrows as well, bemused. “What is it?”

“Ant queen pheromones,” she said. “Strongest aphrodisiac there is. Nearly impossible to find, but I got lucky enough to get my hands on some.”

Your face felt like it was on fire as you gaped at her, but damn it if you weren’t hooked on the idea already. It took all your willpower not to look back at Charon and basically confirm her suspicions. The sort of, ah, relationship you had with him was usually frowned upon, so it was better to keep it lowkey. Not that you gave a shit what others thought, but your business was your own, and you wanted to avoid any more disrespect directed at him.

“Trust me, if you find some lucky guy to try this with, you’ll be on him like a crazed Yao Guai.” She winked.

You considered her words and narrowed your eyes at her suspiciously, unsure why she was being so insistent. “Why offer it to me?”

She raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Hey, a girl’s gotta have her fun from time to time. You sure look like you need it.”

After that, you’d grumbled something about blatant invasion of privacy, but you didn’t really have an argument to contradict her. And so, a whopping ninety-five caps later, you secured a small vial of the amber-and-green nectar.

Charon was none the wiser, but he had been curious as to why you were so quiet when you’d gone to get dinner at Gary’s Galley, avoiding his eye. Even a casual hand on your leg under the table had felt like too much, a strange anticipation setting you on edge.

Still, you continued not to say anything and decided to experiment with it first. You had to make sure you hadn’t been scammed, and if you had, you’d rather take that loss without being silently judged for your rash – and not to mention horny – decisions.

Later, back in your room at the Weatherly hotel, you’d locked yourself in the bathroom and stared at the vial on the counter for an ungodly amount of time. Fuck it. What exactly did you have to lose? Your dignity? That was long gone already. Might as well try to have some fun, as Cindy had so delicately suggested.

The ant nectar almost tasted like honey sliding down your throat, but it was also strangely earthy, like dewy grass. You stuck your tongue out with mild displeasure and shuddered, hating the slightly slimy consistency. Then, you stared at your reflection almost accusingly, expecting to feel the effects right away. 

But no, it was much more gradual than that. 

You took off your vault suit for the night, remaining in a tank top and underwear, which was usually what you slept in. You came out of the bathroom already feeling half defeated, sheepishly smiling at him as you crossed over to sit on the mattress. Charon was already familiar with the sight of you like that, so he didn’t look up twice from his task of cleaning his shotgun. 

You quietly watched him work for some time — the flex and roll of his arm muscles with every swipe of the rag, his slight frown of concentration, and the casual way he sat with his legs spread. Almost like an invitation to sit on his lap… 

You hummed softly in thought. It wasn’t hard for you to be affected by him on a regular basis, but you couldn’t yet discern if the pheromones were doing anything extra. You stretched out on your side on the mattress, propping your head on one hand and drawing idle circles on your hip with the other. 

Heat began to slowly creep upwards from the tips of your toes. Your vision sharpened to the point where you could discern even the smallest details of things around you. Your skin prickled with hyperawareness, your body feeling more and more sensitive as the minutes ticked by. Soon enough, you were absently rubbing your thighs together like a languorous cricket, your eyes straying lower and lower on Charon’s body.

The slight movements and your soft, ill-concealed sighs caught his attention, and he looked over at you with one brow muscle raised. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing,” you said all too quickly, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

He narrowed his eyes, noticing your flushed features, shallow breaths, and hardened nipples poking through your thin tank top. He shifted in his seat, hips lazily bucking upwards, your eyes immediately following the movement. Your breathing hitched. 

“Are you sure about that?” 

“Are you teasing me right now?” You countered, flustered, and crossed your arms over your chest. 

You sucked in a breath at the small contact with your breasts, which were so sensitive it was almost painful. One corner of his lips tugged up in a small, intrigued smirk, and you swallowed hard. Your mouth seemed full of saliva all of a sudden, a thin string of it connecting your lips even as they parted. A heavy, incandescent ache had settled between your thighs, throbbing with every beat of your heart.

Well, fuck. So it is working, after all.

“Charon,” you breathed, already so much like a plea, though it was laced with slight panic. 

“If you want me, all you have to do is ask,” he said evenly, catching a strong whiff of your arousal. “No need to beat around the bush.”

Oh, he wanted to play it that way, did he?  Well, you would make it crystal clear for him, then.

You stood up and approached him, slotting yourself between his strong thighs. Your pupils were blown wide with desire, like two chasms swallowing your irises. You placed your hands on his shoulders, humming pleasurably at the unnatural warmth he radiated.

“I need you,” you said, voice thick.

Despite the interested twitch of his cock in his pants, he was slightly worried at your sudden wantonness. Not that you hadn’t very happily jumped his bones before, but he sensed there was something more he couldn’t quite put his finger on. After all, you were literally looking at him as though you might die if he didn’t plow you like a fertile field right then and there.

“You’re shaking,” he noted, large hands resting on your hips in an attempt to stabilize you.

“You’ve never complained about that before,” you joked half-heartedly, licking your lips. 

“Because I’ve never seen you like this before,” he countered, one hand roaming up to experimentally pinch one of your nipples over the dirty cotton, making you cry out. He hummed in thought, assessing your body almost like he did a target.

“Please, don’t be mean today,” you whined, feeling like your blood was boiling, thighs rubbing together in a futile attempt to ease some of the ache. “Don’t tease me.”

His milky blue eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark humor swimming within them. “You have never complained about that before.” 

Your grip on his shoulders tightened. “Charon.”

He huffed with amusement, but relented. “How exactly do you need me?”

“Break me, bend me, rip me apart with your teeth, I don’t fucking care,” you urged, surprising him once again. “However you want to do it, just take me.”

There was a low growl in his throat as his own fire was stoked by your blunt words. But before he gave into the siren’s call of your soft flesh, he needed to know just what the hell had gotten into you first. The hand that was still on your chest crept up to your throat, not squeezing but merely holding you in place as he gave you a stern look.

“What did you do?” He asked.

You huffed indignantly and looked away. “Why are you assuming I did anything?”

He narrowed his eyes, his fingers tightening on your windpipe slightly in warning. You grasped his wrist as your mind went a little hazy, your eyes heavy-lidded. 

“Mmm, yeah, do that harder,” you purred, thoughts drifting down a darker, headier path.

“Stop it.” He bared his teeth in a snarl. “Just tell me the truth, or I won’t lay another finger on you.”

You let out an irritated growl, baring yours in return. You were suddenly all too aware of your teeth and your nails and a yawning hunger to tear and be torn. Perhaps Cindy’s description of a crazed Yao Guai wasn’t too far off. At least, you certainly wanted him to maul you like one. 

But he wouldn’t until you admitted the embarrassing part first, though somehow, even the mild humiliation of putting yourself in that situation was arousing. Perhaps you wouldn’t even mind if he degraded you a little bit for it, if the shudder that threatened to run down your spine at the thought was any indication.

“Fine,” you snapped. “I may or may not have been relentlessly persuaded into buying some ant queen pheromones… and I may have also highly underestimated how strong they actually are…”

“Huh,” he said simply, eyes roving over you once more. “And now you want me to fix it for you.”

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m planning on putting in the work, too,” you said, tone inevitably dipping into sly territory once more. “As fun as you using me like a ragdoll to your heart’s content sounds…”

“I could,” he mused, almost sounding bored as he moved to grasp the hem of your shirt with both hands. “You already gave me permission to.”

With that, he tugged sharply and ripped your tank top in half, making you gasp. He tossed what remained of it to the side unceremoniously, hungrily eyeing your breasts. There would be more time later to chastise him for ruining the few items of clothing you had, but in the meantime, an excited thrill ran through you, tinged with a hint of fear at having given him free rein. 

You knew he wouldn’t actually hurt you… at least not in ways you didn’t want to be hurt. But still, your mind ran wild with possibilities, each more vulgar than the next.

You thought he’d put his hands on you again, but he made no move to do so. Instead, he pushed his chair back and widened the space between his legs, gaze flicking down to the floor in silent command. Make it worth my time, his eyes said.

Oh. Oh, yes. He wasn’t wrong when he said you liked him getting mean. 

You sank to your knees immediately, salivating like a dog begging for a treat. Already, there was a prominent bulge straining against his leather pants, but his face betrayed nothing of his arousal. He kept his hands at his sides and adjusted his hips forward, but he didn’t attempt to help you more than that. You did say you’d be putting in the work, after all.

Moaning deliriously, you bent your head to rub your cheek against it, tongue catching some of the leather as well. You heard his low, throaty rumbling and felt yourself clenching around nothing. Ever since he got slightly more comfortable about vocalizing his pleasure, you couldn’t get enough of it. 

With shaking hands, you undid his belt and fumbled with both his fly and button. He lifted his hips slightly so you could tug down his pants enough to free his hardening cock, the leaking head of it hitting his lower abdomen. For a moment, you could hear an angelic choir hitting a high note in your mind, and all you could do was stare.

But then his hand fisted in your hair with a certain insistence, and you bent your head again almost reverently. You dragged your tongue slowly from his sac up to the head of his cock, savoring his rough, textured skin.

A few messy kisses on his shaft had him grunting, but his hips flexed as you swirled your tongue over the sensitive tip. Then you took him into your mouth, swallowing him down, down, down until tears gathered at your lashes from trying not to choke. His fist tightened on your hair, tugging close to your scalp and making you moan weakly around him. You had never taken him so far down your throat before, nor had you made such a mess.

You felt some arousal leaking out the side of your already-soaked panties, running down your inner thigh and dripping onto the floor. You came up for air, obscene ropes of saliva and precum connecting your lips to his cock. Seeing how he was beginning to ruin you so beautifully, his snarl was positively feral. He let you tongue him a little more, but then he pulled you back by the hair when he felt his abdominal muscles start to tense.

“Get up,” he rasped, letting go of you so he could also stand. 

Your legs were wobbly as you somehow managed to stand, but you almost lost your footing as he spun you around, bending you over the table he’d been cleaning his gun at. You tried to reach back to touch him, wriggling against him as he leaned his weight on you to keep you in place. He pinned your hands behind your back with one of his and roughly pulled down your panties with the other, making you giggle almost hysterically.

“Please,” you mewled again, shifting your hips in an attempt to grind your ass against him. 

“Be quiet,” he grunted, kicking your legs apart and slotting his cock against your puffy, dripping pussy, coating himself with your arousal. 

The impatient, almost animalistic sounds you made would have probably worried him in any other situation, but presently he was enjoying drawing out the torture a little bit. His hips pulled back so he could probe at your slit with rough fingers. He did so without much dexterity or rhythm, but the sudden contact with your stiffened bundle of nerves had your muscles seizing up.

And then, as the tip of his thumb dipped slightly into your cunt, merely teasing you, you nosedived over the edge so quickly you nearly got vertigo. The fiery tingles in your belly made your toes curl and your eyes screwed shut. He drew out your first release by messily circling your clit with his middle finger, feeling your wrists slightly straining against his grip.

But even as you rode it out, it was not enough. You were left a whimpering, pathetic mess, mindlessly begging him to fill you up. It was like music to his ears and finally – mercifully – he sank fully inside you in a single thrust. He let go of your hands to spread your ass so he could better see his cock slowly going in and out of you. Your hands scrabbled for purchase at the edge of the table, the delicious stretch of him inside you making your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

He leaned forward, his weight flattening you on the table, each deep, hard thrust punching a strangled sound from your lungs. And to top it all off? His hand came to rest on your head, effectively immobilizing you and leaving you completely at his mercy. Well… your brain was due for a good reset, anyway.

“Is this what you wanted?” He growled, pleasantly surprising you by being much more vocal than he usually was during the act.

“Fuuuck… y-yes,” you sobbed, cheek dragging against the metal of the table as you nodded. “Harder. Fuck me harder.”

His hips snapped into yours loudly, the wet squelch of his cock spearing your cunt both erotic and absolutely filthy. As he felt you start to spasm around his cock, pleasure clouded his senses and he held onto his self-control by a thread. Something about having you like this, once again corrupting your perfect smooth body with his much larger, ruined one, made something primal and fierce rise within him. 

He bent his head until his lips touched your shoulder, planting a kiss so light you thought you imagined it, perhaps as an apology. Then you felt the graze of his teeth for a millisecond before they sank into your shoulder just hard enough for the sharp sting to make you wail.

The second orgasm hit you like the swing of a super mutant’s makeshift sword, bright white stars pirouetting across your vision. Your soul felt like it was flung out of your desperate body, the rush of endorphins like the Potomac closing over your head, pulling you under. You clenched around him hard, milking him for all he was worth, and he was pulled right along with you.

Spurts of warmth filled you as his cock twitched, every wave of ecstasy punctuated by a grunt. His thrusts were shallow and sloppy as he rode it out to the end, tongue tracing the teeth marks he’d left behind on your shoulder. You’d gone slack beneath him, soft little sounds of contentment escaping your lips, smiling dopily with your eyes closed. 

“Are you… okay?” He panted, torso pulling back so he wouldn’t be squishing you anymore.

“I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” you giggled breathlessly. “Just… give me a few minutes to recover. I’m not… I’m not done with you yet.”

He couldn’t help but snort, absolutely appalled. “I do not think that is going to happen.”

You managed to open your eyes a sliver to peer up at him slyly. “Try me.”

—-----------------

Early the next morning, while Charon was still knocked out and snoring, you somehow managed to waddle back down to the Rivet City Marketplace. You wore a pair of sunglasses you’d found discarded by the stairs and a scarf you’d borrowed from Vera wrapped over your head. Not that it was a very good disguise, but you felt that if people couldn’t see your eyes directly, then they wouldn’t know of all your sins. 

Like spending the night rutting away like animals with spring fever, for starters. 

Cindy, of course, was not fooled in the slightest. She smirked as she saw you approach her stand, crossing her arms over her chest and lifting an eyebrow. 

“So… I take it things went well?” she said a little too smugly for your taste.

You cleared your throat, trying to play it cool. “I just came to say thank you.”

You gave her an extra ten caps, just as a tip. Her smirk widened as she pocketed them, all too happy to have another satisfied customer.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said. 

The two of you nodded at each other and nothing else was said, but there would always be a mutual knowledge that a very good night was had within Rivet City’s walls.

------

[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.”

[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.

[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

[randoimago]

can you do a hades charon x reader relationship headcanons

Fandom: Hades

Character(s): Charon

Note(s): Here you are!

Charon

Obviously not much of a talker, so he shows his affection physically. Holding hands, giving his S/O head pats, kissing their hand. Small things like that.

He's very busy so he tries to always give his S/O a kiss on the forehead or a small gift from time to time just so they aren't feeling too lonely since he's constantly on his boat.

Enjoys listening to his S/O talk when he isn't busy. Charon doesn't talk much, but he likes to listen and hold S/O's hand when they rant or talk about something they're interested in or just whatever is on their mind.

[demigoddessqueens]

hello it's me again is it okay if you could do the valentine's prompt (bouquet)on charon x nymph reader.

Of course!

VALENTINES LIST

Nothing ever grows to fruition in the Underworld and it can get gloomy fast

Charon looks forward to your visits all the time, a dash of life to such a dank environment

Everytime you come to visit, he always looks forward to your assortment of arranged bouquets

Different hues of bright colors to shine some life, even adorning a small one behind his ear if he doesn’t have to ferry souls

They’re a soft reminder of you and they smell so sweet too