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roguerambles · 1 year

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Secrets in the Garden

God of War - Kratos x Female!Reader

Warnings - 18+ Only. The Olympians being dicks, because they really take the cake in GOWverse.

So, I finally started God of War (2018) I know I’m so behind haha. I watched a playthrough years ago but never did one myself until now, and I haven’t played the original games in years. But it’s reawoken my love for Kratos, the angry disaster man.

I definitely plan on getting to Norse Era!Kratos, but for now I wanted to give Greek Era!Kratos a little attention. There’s a general lack of Kratos thirst and this must be remedied--

You hated the Gardens of Atlantis.

You had adored them once. You were a lesser goddess of the seas, not meant as a figure of influence in the games of power among the Olympians and their lot. When you were appointed as a handmaiden to Amphitrite upon her marriage to Poseidon, you had delighted in living in the King of the Seas domain, blown away by the majesty and splendour of the city. But the gardens were special, filled with flowers and coral, specimens only found in the deepest corners of the oceans that even the gods had never seen.

Amphitrite was a gentle enough mistress, but Poseidon seemed to find your enthusiasm charming, and patiently indulged your many questions on the contents of his garden. You had been embarrassed and somewhat pleased that a god of his status took the time to chat with his wife’s handmaiden. You sat with him at feasts and walked with him in the mornings, and he entertained you with tales of his exploits during the Great War and the antics of his siblings on Olympus. Soon you saw more of him than of his wife.

You do not know if it was naivety or foolishness or some trick of Aphrodite, but you saw nothing wrong with your relationship with the King. Even as he began showering you with gifts, murmuring compliments in your ear, his hand on your hip during walks, Amphitrite’s bright smile turning nervous and brittle, all you saw was your mistress’s husband being pleasant.

Your morning walks in those lovely gardens became evening trysts, the flowers and vines seeming to shift and move to become obscuring curtains, the coral turning soft and plush as any bed, the waters that flowed noisily through the gardens swallowing the sounds of you coupling with your lady’s husband. Even then you were oblivious, your mind focused solely on pleasure, everything else seeming distant and unimportant.

Poseidon moved your chambers closer to his, dressed you in jewels and transparent silks, spending his nights in your bed, murmuring he’d never slept so sweetly as he did in your embrace. All the while, Amphitrite said nothing. All the while, you saw nothing wrong, as though you walked some hazy, pleasant dream.

The spell did not break until the day Poseidon placed his wife’s crown on your head, the day he swore before Zeus and declared you his Queen, reality crashing over you like a cruel, cold wave, but by then it was far, far too late. Hera scoffed and drank from her chalice, Ares and Hermes laughed and laughed, Persephone looked at you with some mix of scorn and pity. Aphrodite smirked at you from behind her hand, her handmaidens giggling at her sides.

No one spoke of Amphitrite.

The Gardens you had once adored were a bitter place now, but it was the only place in Atlantis you were mostly left on your own. You wished you could reclaim the way you had felt about them, find some way to make them feel yours once more. But it was impossible.

Poseidon was on Olympus for some meeting with Zeus and Hades. There had been upheaval among the Olympians since the fall of Ares, but whether that was what he was there for, you could not say. The King of the Seas seldom saw fit to tell you anything that was not some empty compliment, or a pretext to summon you to his bed. You chose to simply enjoy his absence as best you could.

“…Your Grace.”

You glanced up. One of your handmaidens had entered the garden, her expression tight, her hands clenched anxiously in front of her.

“Yes?” You doubted Poseidon had returned already – his meetings with his brothers were long and loud, and he usually returned in a foul temper that shook the walls of the palace.

“It…” She peered at you nervously, glancing quickly over her shoulder as though expecting something to come running up behind her. “Lord Kratos is here!”

What?

You glanced up at her, startled. You had met the newly crowned God of War only a handful of times since his ascension. You knew him better by reputation, rumours whispered in the halls of Olympus. He had slain Ares in revenge for the murders of his wife and daughter, tricked into using his own hands for the deed. He was a fearsome warrior, a brutal killer, soaked in blood and ashes. His name was spoken in hushed whispers, on Olympus and Atlantis both.

“…send him here.”

She cringed nervously, but obeyed, and scurried away. You tried to think what Kratos could want, and you waited, toying with the helm of your dress. The doors quickly opened once more, and you looked up to see Lord Kratos enter the Gardens.

He was a striking man, in every sense of the word. Tall and muscled, his body a perfect sculpture of a Spartan warrior. His expression was cold and severe, his eyes sharp and piercing. You could understand why many trembled in his shadow, but you could also understand the salacious whispers. The Gods were as alluring as they were powerful, and nobody could deny Kratos was a powerful man.

Kratos said nothing as he approached, his frown deepening the closer he got. You cleared your throat, and forced a polite smile onto your face. “Greetings, Lord Kratos. Welcome to Atlantis—"

“I have business with Poseidon.”

You sighed, lowering you head slightly. At least you did not have to dwell on pleasantries. “He is not here.”

The Spartan looked even more displeased. “Poseidon sent word I was to meet him here.”

You had no idea what Kratos and your husband could possibly have to talk about. Poseidon had precious little good to say about Kratos, and you found it difficult to imagine him being summoned for a visit. “He is on Olympus, as far as I am aware.”

Kratos’s glare would have killed Medusa herself where she stood. “I am in no mood for games.” His tone was accusatory, and it made you bristle, somewhat indignantly.

“Nor am I.” You snapped back, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. “Perhaps you misunderstood the message.”

Kratos looked vaguely insulted at the thought of making such a basic error. “I did not.”

“Then perhaps Poseidon simply wanted to waste your time.” It was a petty move even by Poseidon’s standards, but you put little past him. “You would need to ask him.”

Kratos’s expression darkened, and while you were certain it probably should have unnerved you, you found yourself admiring the Spartan’s profile in the light, his strong nose and sharply defined collarbones, the mountainous broadness of his shoulders.

“—I require the Shell.”

“What?” You were shook out of your thoughts by Kratos’s voice. He frowned at you, and you felt your face flush, startled at the turn of your thoughts. “Apologies, I…the Shell?”

“Poseidon’s Conch Shell.” Kratos repeated, his fingers flexing impatiently around his Blades – you noticed the movement rippled upwards, drawing attention to the strong swell of his biceps. “I require it.”

“…why?”

Kratos did not answer. He simply stared at you, frown firmly in place. You found yourself staring at the fullness of his lips, and by the Fates, you were blushing.

“Poseidon likely carries it with him.” You cleared your throat, reluctantly tearing your eyes away from him. “You will need to go to him. Or wait until he returns.”

Kratos muttered something under his breath, his expression thunderous. You glanced at the fountain in the Gardens centre, vaguely noticing the secluded spots Poseidon used to hide you in around it. You cringed thinking of those days, but Kratos’s presence at your back seemed to spark something. You found yourself picturing those warm, secluded spaces, the God of War between your thighs—

Fates—

“Are you even listening?”

You were torn roughly from your fantasies by Kratos’s booming voice. You turned to him dazedly, feeling yourself flush once more under his intense gaze. “I’m sorry, I….”

“I have no time for this.” He snapped, and turned abruptly, clearly to leave. Your eyes landed on his broad back, the exquisite musculature shifting with every movement, and in an instant your mind was made up.

“Lord Kratos, wait.”

Kratos paused, casting an impatient glare over his shoulder.

“Poseidon will return eventually.” Hopefully not for a long time. You rose from your seat, tilting your head upwards slightly. “You are welcome to wait with me until he does.”

“I have no time for—” Kratos began, his voice harsh, and you grasped the buckle of your cloak, tugging it open and letting it fall around your feet, leaving your bare body exposed.

Kratos’s voice halted, and you could not help but be pleased at the genuine surprise on his face, his eyebrows shooting upwards in a way that was almost comical.

You smiled, lifting a hand to play with your necklace, a spark of excitement flaring within you as Kratos’s eyes followed your movement, trailing slowly over your body. “Make time.”

For a moment, Kratos was still as stone. Then you caught it, the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth, the smallest crack in his perpetually severe expression. He turned fully and began striding back towards you, purpose in his gaze, and heat flared tight in your belly as he closed in on you.

“Wait—” You held up a hand, glancing quickly around. Kratos paused, his gaze firmly on you, and you barely resisted the impulse to throw caution to the wind and have him take you right there. “Follow me.”

Your handmaiden had not returned, nor had any other servants, but you did not want interruptions. You stepped away from the fountain, heading deeper into the gardens, Kratos’s slow footfalls at your back. You felt his eyes burning on, trailing flames over your form, and a shiver of anticipation ran down your spine.

You ducked into a small natural alcove, coral and vines and blooms sprawling inside. You exhaled, and the Garden sprung to life around you.

The vines tangled together behind Kratos as he approached, closing you both in the space together. He was so close now, the power radiating from his broad, muscled frame almost tangible. You wanted to reach out, to run your hands over his shoulders, down his chest and toned abdomen, sculpted to perfection, like a statue come to life. Perhaps it showed in your face, as that small smirk tugged at Kratos’s lips again, and you felt your face grow hot.

“You are still dressed.” You found your voice, lifting your chin high, keeping your gaze level with Kratos’s own.

“I am.” Kratos replied, simply, his eyes slipping from yours to trail slowly over your naked form. Your arms stuttered at your sides, reflectively moving to cover yourself, but you forced them still, nervous excitement beginning to crackle in your veins.

“Take it off.” You tried to sound as commanding as possible. You were a Queen, after all. “All of it.”

Kratos looked faintly amused. It was an odd expression for the God of War, but you found you rather liked the way it shaped his face. He did as you bid him, moving with an almost casual air, his armoured pauldron falling to the ground with a dull thud, his gauntlets slipping from his hands and dropping on top with a noisy clank. Kratos did not wear many layers to begin with, but you found your throat turning dry as his strong, nimble fingers began undoing his belt—

Sweet blessed Eros—

Kratos kicked his belt aside, his body now as bare as your own. His eyes met yours, his smirk more pronounced, and he stood tall and still, like a soldier for inspection.

“Do I please you?”

There was an undeniable note of smugness in the Spartan’s voice, clearly enjoying your reaction. You felt your face flush again, but found yourself unable to tear your eyes away from the way Kratos’s body moved, the way he towered over you.

Broad shoulders leading down to thick, powerful arms, large hands that could break a man in half, strong, toned thighs, and wide chest, full pectorals your fingers itched to roam over. Muscles rippled with every movement, flexing and contracting in perfect harmony. His lips, normally a harsh line, looked full and inviting, and you found yourself wondering how they would taste on yours.

You licked your lips, forcing your gaze back to Kratos’s eyes. There was a growing heat in them, one that grew as they ran over your form, the sight igniting a spark of heat deep in your belly. Kratos possessed a brutish, almost cruel beauty, but it was beauty nonetheless.

“I don’t know.” You spoke finally. You lifted a hand, slowly, cautiously, until your fingers lightly brushed the toned planes of his abdomen. He inhaled a sharp, quiet breath, his gaze growing hotter as your palm softly slid upwards. “Will you?”

Kratos made a deep, rumbling noise. It took you a moment to register it was a laugh. His large – large – hand suddenly grasped you waist, yanking you hard against his chest. You gasped, your hands splayed against his chest, the heat of his skin fierce enough to burn. Something hot and hard and big pressed against your hip, and fire began to spill in your gut as you looked up to meet Krato’s burning gaze.

“Yes.” He answered, his voice a low, rough promise.

The back of your knees bumped into the soft coral, Krato’s warm, rough palm sliding from your waist to your thigh as you fell backwards. His hips slid between your thighs, his other hand stroking up your side, guiding you into place. You gasped and arched, the solid, heated muscle of his body suddenly so close sending a pulse of anticipation through you.

“Kratos—” His name tumbled from your lips as a gasp, his large, powerful body between your thighs scattering your thoughts in a sharp burst of flame. Kratos made a deep, pleased noise in his chest, leaning down to press his lips against the racing pulse point of your neck. His teeth nipped at your skin, making you gasp and arch against him, your hands grasping his shoulders.

“Hmmmm…” Kratos’s body shook slightly. You realised after a few seconds he was laughing. You flushed, digging your nails into the flesh of his shoulders. He hissed slightly, a flash of naked lust painting his face, and you wrapped your legs tight around his waist, pushing with all your might until he rolled onto his back, you perched on top of him.

He let you, undoubtedly, from the way his eyes darkened deliciously at the sight of you on top of him told you, the way his hands roamed up your sides, coming to cup your breasts, his thumb teasing your nipple. A soft moan escaped you, his touch igniting your skin. He growled, leaning upwards, his mouth pressing hot, opened mouth kisses against your chest, and you whined, bucking on top of him.

His hand slid over your waist, and you felt his arousal, inches away from your centre. Kratos groaned, his hips angling, your fingers digging into your flesh—

“Kratos.” You reached down to brush your fingers against the sharp edge of his jaw. He startled, eyes snapping to yours, and for a moment you thought he might pull away. “I want to watch.” The words tumbled out, the pad of your thumb brushing against the fullness of his lip. “I want to watch your face.”

Kratos stared at you, frozen, his hips stilling. His grip tightened, almost painfully, but he remain still, something blazing in his eyes. You feared you crossed some sort of line, but before you could find words, his large hands were sliding over your hips, guiding you downwards, his hot flesh meeting your slick centre.

A gasp spilled from your lips, your back arched, your entire body quivering at the jolt of sensation. Kratos growled under his breath, his abdomen flexing and contracting, his gaze firmly on yours with the intensity of fire. Your hands grasped at his shoulders, nails digging into thick muscle, and Kratos snapped his hips upwards, filling you so fully and suddenly you cried out, bucking in his grip.

Merciful fucking Eros—

“Hold.” Kratos hissed through gritted teeth, hands, rough and large and strong, gripped your thighs, holding them at either side of his waist. His breathing quickened, the powerful muscle of his arms tight and flexing. You ran your hands down his chest and up again, fire spilling deep in your belly at the feeling of his body so close but closer you wanted him closer.

“Kratos.” You gasped his name, arching your hips, needing him to move, needing him deeper. “Kratos, please—” You caught the faintest flutter in his eyelids, the slightest bucking of his hip in response to yours, a groan sounding from somewhere deep in his chest. The cracks in his control made your blood boil deliciously, your hands grabbing his shoulders, squeezing as you pushed further against him. “Kratos—!”

“Hold.” He spoke louder and more firmly, pulling you roughly against him. His palm touched your face, firm yet surprisingly gentle as his gaze met yours. You startled, staring at him, his gaze locked on yours.

“…hold.” He spoke again, his thumb flickering against your cheekbone, the faintest caress. He said nothing else, but pulled you upwards, holding you so you were face to face, your chest flush with his.

Warmth flooded your cheeks, and other places, and You breathed out, nodding shakily, hands gripping his wide shoulders. Slowly, agonisingly slowly, his hips began to move, and a gasp fell from your lips as fire burned deep, every movement making your nerves sing.

“Kratos…!”

He growled under his breath, lips parting, his hands gripping your thighs as he rolled his hips, once, twice, over and over, each thrust sending lightning searing through your body. Heat, blazing white hot heat bloomed low in your belly, tendrils licking rapidly upwards making you writhe and cry out. “Kratos…! Kratos—!”

Kratos hissed, his back going rigid, his hips stuttering to a brief halt, before his hands grabbed your waist, pulling you roughly down, hips snapping up and down, fast and brutal, a deep, guttural roar spilling from his lips as pleasure began to overwhelm him. The delicious v of his hips shifting with every thrust, the muscles of his abdomen clenching with every movement. The sight and sensations made your stomach clench, and something burst within you, spilling flames everywhere.

“Kratos—!” Your voice rose to a shout, the world burning a sweet, blissful red, everything blurring to a haze has until all you could feel was Kratos’s body against yours. You threw your head back, a wordless scream of intense pleasure spilling from your lips as your climax crashed over you.

Kratos roared, his face buried between your breasts, his mouth hot against your skin, his hips bucking wildly until his own release hit, sending you both tumbling over the edge together.

You and Kratos made love for hours.

The rumours surrounding the God of War stamina had not exaggerated, and you were certain had it not been for your own divine nature you would have been utterly exhausted. Kratos was as determined a lover as he was a warrior, his sole focus seeming to be bringing you to pleasure, with an intensity that threatened to burn you from within.

You eventually collapsed into sweaty tangle of limbs, bodies aching and breathless, your head on Kratos’s chest, his heart thumping rapidly under your ear. His fingers trailed idly up and down your back, so idly you were not certain he was aware he was doing it. He said nothing as he stared up at the canopy, and you said nothing back, not wanting to break the strange, almost peaceful spell you both seemed to have fallen under.

“When will Poseidon return?” Kratos asked after a while, eyes still upwards. You sighed, and aimlessly trailed a fingertip up and down his abdomen, drawing nothings on his skin.

“I do not know. Days, maybe.”

“Hmmm.”

Kratos said nothing else. He rolled on top of you, lightning in his touch, his hips sliding between your thighs, and you both sank into each other once more.

Poseidon would return, days later, as you predicted.

He was surprised to find Kratos in his palace, in his Queen’s gardens, sipping ambrosia while you chatted pleasantly at him about the history of Atlantis. Kratos did not seem to be contributing much to the conversation, but he nodded along patiently, and Poseidon swears he almost catches a hint of a smile on the bloodthirsty Spartan’s face.

Poseidon had expected Kratos to leave, and eyes you suspiciously as he entered the Gardens. You smiled brightly and informed him Kratos had been waiting oh so patiently for him to return. He needed his Conch Shell.

Poseidon kept his shell in some temple or another, and bid Kratos should go there. The God of War simply nodded, and turned to leave the palace without a word to the King of the Seas. As he did, your eye met his, and you caught the faintest hint of a smirk, meant for you.

You returned to the Gardens, which felt a little more like yours once more.

#god of war #kratos #kratos x reader #kratos x female reader #god of war greek era #god of war kratos #god of war x reader #god of war fanfic #god of war fanfiction #gow x reader #god of war kratos x reader

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yandere-kokeshi · 4 months

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Pregnant! Darling with kratos mhmhmh. The reassurance on both sides, and constant soft comments on how Kratos is better than he was before not only for their unborn child but Atreus mhmhmmm

— Yandere Kratos with a pregnant darling

Warnings: yandere behavior and pregnancy

A/N: I fucking love this, please send in more shit like this. I'm feral for this man <3. Enjoy!

Once he finds out, he’s quiet. Kratos is staring at you, then hovers down to your stomach. His body is stiff, hands clenching and unclenching before a hand reaches and touches your stomach, grasping at it as his fingers glide over your skin. It’s only a matter of seconds as he brings you into a tight embrace as he repeats his promises.

“Are you — sure? I promise. I promise to Atreus, and to you, I will take care of you two.”

Atreus loves to ask questions which only result in the baby. He’s just as excited as his father, and promises to protect you.

It’s no surprise Kratos is paranoid. Even at the start of the few weeks, he’s constantly checking up on you; asking if everything is okay, or does all-nighters to ensure you and Atreus are safe. He knows it’s unhealthy, but he can’t stop the guilt — the obvious fear of losing you. He’s always ready, in a sense that danger is around, even though it’s been days from fights.

This also comes with him being a severe mother hen. Any noises or sighs coming out of you, has him hovering and asking what’s wrong. If you say nothing, he seemingly doesn’t believe you; giving you an ‘are you sure?’ look before huffing and returning to whatever he was doing.

He’s always been a gentle giant with you, touching you with such gentleness. But now, with you being pregnant? He’s extremely careful with you. Always treating you like a shell from the sea ready to shatter. He’s always guiding you with his hands on your hips and lower back, and yelling at ‘no’, when you try to help with house chores.

On the topic of house chores, he doesn’t let you do anything. Not a single chore or hunt is done by you; he orders Atreus or goes by himself to do it. In his defense, he doesn’t want you wasting your energy, or pulling a muscle, especially if you’re far more down the months.

Morning sickness is guaranteed and when it happens, Kratos takes it with a stroll. He’s there next to you, holding your hair back if you need, or rubbing your back. He brings you fresh-cold water to sip on and insists you stay hydrated.

When the baby bump starts showing, Kratos spends most of his time just looking at them — admiring your body, and how gorgeous you are. He finds the pregnant body attractive, how your body grows accustomed to the baby: long and spreading stretch marks, the black line, and muscles that become more prominent. He enjoys tracing them, especially if it’s the time when you two can rest.

When sleeping, he’s always had a habit of you having your head lay on his chest or directly on top of him. Now with you growing a kiddo, he’s constantly wanting you on top of him — your weight helps him sleep better and eases his mind while he overthinks. Plus, he gets to grasp and hold your tummy.

From his experiences with pregnancy, he knows it’s difficult — especially for you, so he never gets mad or upset whenever you yell at him or suddenly cry. Surprisingly, he’s good at supporting you when your emotions are unregulated; always comforting you, and rubbing your back when everything becomes too overwhelming. His hugs tighten, and leaves you alone when needed.

Kratos is always following you, especially in the baths. He enjoys sitting behind you, washing your back or places you cannot reach. Towards the end, he just holds your stomach, rubbing large circles on your lower hips and kissing your sore muscles, whispering how much he adores your perfect body.

The best healers are assigned to you. He’s always with you, asking questions regarding your health and the baby. His demanding presence is enough to scare them, if not his rough voice that constantly shuffles to you and back to them. If he feels unsure, both of you are leaving and going to Freya’s — to which he tries to avoid, but if it needs to be done, then so be it.

Even though he doesn’t want to say it, Kratos worries about the day of meeting the baby. He’s excited of course, wants to meet them and can’t wait for the day of their cries, he’s scared of hurting them– large hands filled with old tainted blood and guilt; what if’s playing in his head.

At night, on the ones he can’t fall asleep, he loves to talk to your stomach — his low baritone asking questions and ensuring their safety, with his own blood, will be his top priority.

Kratos loves seeing Atreus engaging with you.

The boy always reassures you of bending over on an object that he’s already reaching for, and treating you like glass; just like how his father does. He hunts, brings you food, spends time with you and sometimes asks if he can feel the baby. He’s just as attached as his father, and already views you as his other parent.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

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whackk-kermitt · 4 months

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Confessing Your Love

Genre: Headconons

Warnings: Cursing(Brok..)

≫ ────── ≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫ ────── ≪

Kratos

“Hmm,” followed by a slow nod.

He wouldn't say anything immediately.

He will just kind of look at you, studying your eyes.

He doesn't want to take chances.

Man has trust issues!

Telling him you love him will make him so happy yet so scared.

You wouldn't be able to tell.

Eventually you'd hear, “I love you, as well.”

He'd immediately ask you to move your things to his home if you haven't already.

He loves you, so you need to stay close so he can protect and provide for you!

He'd start to find more excuses to touch you and you'd laugh telling him he doesn't need them.

Eventually, he will be comfortable enough to walk up to you just for an embrace or smooch.

Mimir

Before his head got..you know.. His first instinct you be to turn to you completely.

“Really, Las? An old man like me?” He'd laugh but he'd offer to do something romantic.

Smartest man alive, but he never saw that coming.

Either way he’d swear his loyalty and heart to you.

Anything you want, he's on it.

After his head…

He'd probably hesitate to return the sentiment, no matter how genuine it is.

“I- I can't offer you much, Las.” He’d frown.

He'd feel inadequate, and undeserving- he's just a head after all!

What could he give you in terms of love and affection?

After telling him his company is all you desire then he'd probably think you've gone mad.

But after a while of talking about it he'd smile and say it back.

You'd carry his head on your belt during travels throughout the realms after.

Giving him kisses on his cheeks and forehead.

It's simple and innocent devotion and its loves that he's enough for you.

Atreus

Telling Arteus you've got a crush on him would probably make him completely freeze and go red.

I'm talking his fathers tattoo red!

Lots of stuttering and blushing while you guys talked about it.

He wouldn't really know what to do or say afterwards.

But no doubt he'd eventually be able to get it out that he likes you too.

He's never done any of this before, so he'd probably go to Mimir or Freya for advice.

If and when you ever hold his hand or hug him his palms get sweaty and he gets nervous.

But he's happy to oblige!

He thinks your so cute.

Talks to his dad about it.

He's shy, but after a while of spending more time hanging out with you he’d get cocky and try to show off and impress you more.

Half of the time he’ll be trying so hard he just ends up looking silly or just straight up stupid.

But you laugh it off and tell him how cute and sweet he is.

He's whipped.

Freya

No matter how comfortable she is around you, no matter how safe you make her feel, she'll hesitate.

As soon as you tell her you're in love with her, she'll need room away from you.

In every relationship so far, she's been to much or not enough.

The woman is hurt and healing.

She's scared its not the truth, like with Odin.

Or if it is, and you truly love her, then what if she messes it up?

What is her love is to much for you and you leave her?

Or what if, out of fear of being too much, she’s not enough- and you leave her?

Freya can't take another heartbreak.

But after seeing how understanding you are of her past, and reassuring her worries that you're not going anywhere she's willing to listen.

You'd tell her that it doesn't matter if she loves you the same way, or another, as long as your with her its enough for you.

And hearing that would be enough for her.

You'd have to take things slowand steady with her.

But she is so very much in love with you.

She will make sure you both set boundaries to keep her from going to far and pushing you away.

She doesn't wanna lose you too.

Brok

“Well it's about fucking time!”

He's so cool and sure of himself on the outside, so he'll play it off like he know you loved him.

But really he's surprised.

He's not the most romantic man, but he'll give it an honest try for your sake.

He’ll get flowers and sweets for his lady.

Most definitely start bringing about you to everyone he meets every chance he gets.

He's very standoffish when it comes to affection.

So any time you give it to him he'll stutter just slightly and awkwardly reciprocate it while he gets used to someone being infatuated with him.

Very defensive and protective is anyone makes comments about you two.

“Mind your business, you unfuckable drauger-looking bastard!”

Very confident on the outside, very unsure on the inside.

He's worried he's not doing it right but all he needs is you smiling at him the way you do and he'll be just fine.

Sindri

Congratulations, you broke him.

His initial reaction is giving O.O

Wide eyes, red cheeks, mouth open.

He'd stutter for a response and get frustrated with himself for losing his voice for a moment.

Give him some time and words will just start spilling out.

He loves you, that was no secret to anyone!

He’ll tell you all about it when the air come back into his lungs.

He’ll go on and on about how pretty you are, and amazing, and how much he likes your smile.

Lots of nervous chuckles and shy grins from this man.

He hates when people touch him, sorry to say you're no exception.

But you figured you wouldnt be; at least for now.

However he is willing to hook his pink finger to yours every now and then as a very small step in the direction of hugging you.

Having you love him really makes him frustrated with his thing with germs and dirt.

He’s never had a problem with it before.

But now he wants to hold you and be held by you and the thought of it makes him shiver in disgust.

It's a fear he's willing to conquer if it means one day he'll get to see the smile on your face when he holds you with out gagging for the first time.

You know better then to take offense; it's nothing personal.

He gags at everyone.

Tyr

He didn't see it coming.

But he had hoped..

It was a happy surprise when you blurted it out while spending time with him while reading.

He gave you a soft smile after the shock settled and returned the sentiment .

Not much had to be said between you two after that.

The only thing that really changed in the relationship were beginning to sit closer together and a lot more gentle touches.

He'd rest against you while you braid his hair, and he'll braid yours.

His eyes have always laid on you softly, but there's something more in them when he looks at you now.

Contentment.

He’s happy to share any moment a with you that he can.

Heimdal

He knew.

He knew you loved him for a while.

He knew you wanted to say it.

The cooky little shit just waited and waited until you did.

He wanted to hear it.

But when you approached him and said you loved him it felt different then he imagined it would.

He knew you, and he saw in your head that you truly meant it.

He knew you loved the good, the bad, and the ugly in him.

He knew that unlike the other people who have claimed to love him, you didn't think ‘i can change him.’

He saw the unsure insecurities in your head and body language that he wouldn't feel the same way.

After all, he reads minds, and he knew what you felt all this time and never addressed it so clearly he wasn't interested, right?

To be honest, up until that point he hadn't really considered your feelings despite knowing them.

You had told him you loved him, but you had only said it so he would tell you what you believed he would- that he doesn't care.

You had only said it so he could break your heart, and you could get closure, and hopefully move on.

It twisted his gut that you were walking into this fully believing you would be turned away.

He saw in your head that you had already been crying over it.

But that's not what he wanted, so instead being sarcastic or rude like he would be with literally anyone else he smiled at you.

“I know.” He said softly.

Thor

“Good for you.”

He's not really interested.

Plus he's still married.

So piss off.

Not proof read.

•Kermitts Masterlist•

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ghibliwatcher · 1 year

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If Kratos had a child who mostly draws | Kratos x teen reader (platonic)

God of War 4

He would always be curious to what you’re drawing, especially Mimir

Peers over your shoulder to see what you’re drawing this time (he’s praying that it would be him)

You would occasionally draw your family members every now and then, but you would mostly draw the environment surrounding you wherever you’re in

You and Atreus spend time with each other by drawing! (Literally just chilling at home and draw by the fire)

Atreus would try to draw you while you tried to do the same (he made you look goofy)

Whenever Kratos enters he would sometimes sees you and Atreus draw in silence

“[Name], Atreus, time for hunt—” Sees you and your brother drawing in your journals silently and looking focused

You would also draw Sindri, Brok, Mimir, and Freya too!

Sindri and Freya absolutely loves your work, while Brok huffs in pride that you drew him

Mimir will always be your number one model, since he can’t move around at all (it’s easy to sketch him too)

You also tried to draw your father smiling (which is a thing you can never look at ever again)

In short, Kratos enjoys seeing you draw. It brought comfort to him that you like to grasp the environment you’re in and settling that in your journal.

Whenever you’re sleeping, he sometimes steals your journal and looks at the sketches you’ve made

#kratos #god of war #gow x reader #kratos x reader #platonic #god of war x reader #gow4 #artist reader #x reader #freya gow #atreus #sindri #gow mimir #brok gow

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visionsofmagic · 1 year

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when they meet someone smaller than them [gow: r] \\ headcanon, requested

character(s): kratos, thor, heimdall

word count: 1.7k

warnings&tags: nsfw, minors dni, size kink, small!reader, explicit language, praising, petnames/nick names, pinning, quotes which they would use, unholy ideas, lap sitting, so on. thanks for requesting lovely anon! enjoy.<3

| kratos

kratos could be one of the huge gods out there you ever met with his massive body. you couldn't tell his high exactly but you knew how you have to look up to see him, to make your presence knowledgeable. in the first times, it was hard to gain his attention, he had never looked down to see you. but now, it was all different. he didn't stop with recognizing you by looking down, no, he has started to kneel down. it was an odd feeling to see him like that; kneeling down to your level when you need him to, letting you climb to his back, like atreus did, when you are not be able to do so, picking you up whenever you want to reach a certain but higher point.

he didn't think he still had that side of him; wanting to do some naughty things while having intimate moments with you. he even didn't think how could he would find your small body so fragile but powerful enough to make him want to touch you, having you on his arms, under him or even top of him.

he liked how small you were compared to him because whenever you stood in front of him, you looked so cute. you were small but the strength you held always impressed him. he didn't show any disrespect or unwillingness about your high. contrary to that he found it amusing because of not only loving times he had with you while he was thanking your smallness, but also having unholy thoughts about it that he perfectly done.

in intimate moments, he would try not to harm you with his massive body even when his mind is filled with lots of naughty things he wants to do to you; just making you sit on his laps - thighs which were one of your favorite places to sit as you said, holding your waist with his huge hands and just fuck you like that, sitting you down and up on his cock while you put no effort to move, just moaning and preying for more as he makes your mind lose its functions, and breathing so fast and deeply with bouncing breasts in front of kratos' hazel eyes.

he didn't want to be rough in the first times, he didn't fulfill his dreams - naughty ones like this but he also couldn't help himself whenever you told him to be harder, deeper and rough which he could not deny. with your wishes, his lust and passion has increased, making him do the things both you and he wanted deeply in the lonely times you two had, far away from others' sights.

he could use your smaller body to move it effortlessly, changing from position to another.

he liked position that helped you ride him the most, seeing your little and beautiful body bouncing on his cock, making your breasts jump with the function, a moaning mess right top of him. he always find it cute how you wanted all of him inside of your walls even though he merely fit. you needed to be prepared for him which he liked to do; putting your body on a surface, higher one, to eat you - finger you just for preparing. you would cum a few times, not ready for him, never but the desire to have him inside you never decreased its power.

also, mentioning the fact about your body and desires always was a habit of him in the intimate moments.

"no," he would say when you asked him to fuck you without preparing - being a brat on the bed. "you are not ready." then, by using your lustful side, you would convince him to fuck you like that - raw and dry. "you are a nasty one, aren't you?" he would ask, "thinking you can take all of it without preparing. I do not wish to harm you but if this is what you want, I will give it but do not blame me for making you – a mess.” he just loves it – he just loves every feature of you and your body.

thor is so huge – he has a huge body features, making your mouth both open in shock and lust. thinking about whatever he can do with his massive body is not joke at all; it is something you always dream about after having lots of special moments that include passionate, lust and love on them.

| thor

he can pick your body like it means no weight at all, like you are a bird or something. he can break your neck like it means nothing. the power he holds within his body was something you could not imagine. he had strength – power. all his enemies had fear of him – with only a sight of his body, they could shake in pure fear. however, you never had fear of him, never because he was so sensitive towards you contrary to his massive body, looking dangerous and powerful – so much. he could break your body in a few seconds but he would never – he loved you so gently and cutely. he treated you in a way you felt – worshipped. all-father could never.

worshipping you was the thing he had from the start of your bond – and you never imagined him to even see you in the first place because of your small body – so small compare to his one. even if it was not likely him to acknowledge you – see you, he did, to your surprise and more surprising thing was that he found your smaller body so delicate – significant even, making him want to protect from all the danger of all realms, shielding you with his huge one whenever there was something more powerful than you – but not him. you had your own strength which he found amusing every time but the realms held more dangerous thing than some draugrs.

he loved to protect you, yes – he loved to play with your smaller body whenever he had chance such as picking you up when your anger show itself, making him giggle and making you angrier. but he loved to see you in bed, table, or any surface he found that particular moments – intimate ones, standing there, looking so innocent and little but holding infinity in every part of you.

his favorite one was seeing you on his lap, sitting on one of them while seducing him with innocent words that turn into naughty ones. he also liked seeing you – or having you on a table, opened legs, showing your cute little pussy to him shamelessly, standing there and looking at him with an expression that say ‘come and get me, I’m ready for all of it’ which made him turn on more each time. he liked breaking tables, beds, or even walls while fucking you roughly – sometimes slowly and gently just to tease. you could feel his cock inside of your walls even after he had no longer was fucking you, making him giggle in a proud manner, “poor thing,” he would say, “not thinking how my cock will break her every time she becomes needy for it.”

| heimdall

heimdall, lord of the asgard realm, had only one weakness as he claimed; you. he always thought how little thing like you even made your presence likeable and knowledge to him. then, his loving side answered, always while showing how cute he found you firstly, only to find it sexier than everything he has seen in his lifetime; ‘she is magnificent’. he knew his power on you as well, making you think about him all day and night and no, he didn’t feel any guilt to read your mind again and again, not wanting to stop, especially whenever you think about nothing but him.

he loved to read your mind so often, but whenever they turned into naughty ones, he couldn’t help but smirk widely, amused by the imagination you had with that little brain of yours. how could you think that he would fit so easily? – he asked to himself, feeling a bit disappointed, but no, you wouldn’t get away with that idea and that was the thing that made him realize it was enough with to tease and take actions; doing all the things you imagined shamelessly, wanting him to fuck every hole you had, leaving non-touched place on your entire body that was small and innocent, ready to be break into million pieces with his touches – both rough and gentle.

he had egoistic features, indeed, but when your thoughts turned from innocent ones such as telling how cute he looked, how you found him magical – the most beautiful thing in all realms, to those specific and unholy ones; dreaming about how he could fuck you against a wall, how he could cover all of your body with his bigger one, leaving you nothing to see but only him. your thoughts about this particular field has increased each day, not realizing how he was reading your mind – reading your intentions, seeing how your thighs were pressing each other with the sight of his laps, even more, his cock that was visible from time to time whenever you touched closely, mostly his plans to tease you further and acting like he didn’t know anything about the whole situation.

one day, he came to your side, covering all of your body with his own while capturing you between his body and a wall, making you look up to see his face and lustful pretty eyes as his one hand began to travel on specific parts of your body. “thinking unholy things like I do not read them, little but nasty one,” he said, “I thought that you were doing them on purpose but no, you didn’t, because if they meant to be said in purpose, you would never think that I would fit you so easily.” with a blushed face, you would wait for last sentences of him before he took actions, “I will not – I will not fit so easily, but I will try and in the end, you will be in a position that even your little wet pussy will be so ready to take all in, not wanting me to come out, being a brainless little brat on my cock.”

the end. 💜

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wrr000 · 1 year

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God of War characters carrying you around

Silly idea of how our favs would carry us. It could be romantic or platonic!

Carry you around like a sack of potatoes: Kratos, Baldur, Brok

Give you a piggyback ride: Modi, Baldur

Carry you in a bridal style: Freya, Tyr, Sindri, Freyr

Let you sit on their shoulder: Modi, Magni, Tyr

Lift you up and cross one arm under your booty: Magni, Thor

"Don't you have legs?": Sindri, Brok, Heimdall, Kratos

You have to carry them: Sif, Heimdall, Freyr

#gow #gow ragnarok #god of war #god of war ragnarok #gow heimdall #gow tyr #gow thor #gow baldur #gow x reader #gow headcanons #heimdall #thor #baldur #tyr #gow sindri #gow brok #magni and modi #kratos

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nixisaway · 1 year

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GOW: A subtle realization

Kratos \ reader fic

Fem companion reader fic about GOW

SFW all fluff

Just a small idea I had while laying awake this morning :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You looked up from your position at the fire only to be met with a curious stare from Mimir.

“Is there something on your mind mimir?” You said softly so as to not disturb Atreus sleeping across from you. “Aye lass just something the boy said of late”

“Oh?” You replied encouraging him to continue

“You see, I think he, well uh, oh how do I put this plainly sister” “I think he wishes for you and his father too, well I think he’s started seeing you as quite motherly”

You laughed and small bit, of course he did, you mended his things and gave him an open ear when his father was being to rough on him and you taught him some albeit fairly basic magic but it was enough to remind him of how caring his own mother was for him.

“And is that such a bad thing mimir?” You asked, bringing your chin to rest on your knuckles. Truth be told it was more than just Atreus you had bonded with. The stoic god who was absent from our hearth at the moment had also captured your heart. You weren’t fully sure how much of his you had but you did notice you never ran out of arrows, and you’ve never gone a night without food since meeting him.

Kratos was not over Faye and nor would he ever be. You never expected him to be either, instead you helped him move forward with the grief and helped him know that love is never ending and comes in all shapes and sizes, from anywhere and everywhere and that it’s ok to be vulnerable if only for a moment out of time.

Just as mimir was about to respond the very god in question made his way back to the fire, with a large buck strung across his shoulders, as impressive as always you noted mentally

“Ah welcome back brother!” Mimir boasted cheerfully. “Hmn” was all he got in response.

With all the noise and excitement Atreus had sat fully up, as alert as he could be while half asleep. You smiled and reached over to ruffle his short auburn hair, a detail of Faye’s that you loved as well as anyone did.

You mused to yourself about what mimir had said, and smiled looking down. If Atreus sees you as a caretaker of sorts then I suppose that’s a good thing, it just means that the only barrier I have left to get through is the one built so high around a man who needs the least protection.

You smile at Kratos after a moment and he blankly looks back although you can see a softness in his eyes as he stares back at you, he broke the moment by plopping the large buck beside you all and seating himself as well all too quickly. Your focus broke as mimir shouted some forgotten language’s curse words while tumbling to the ground from the sudden *ThWUMP* that accompanied the large animals body being dropped on the cold frozen ground.

You giggled and picked him up tenderly, brushing snow from his beard and sitting him beside you gently.

“no, no not a bad thing at all lass” he said quietly to you as the fire crackled and Atreus laughed quietly in the background, in fact you think you might have just almost heard a slight “humph.” from kratos, maybe just barely.

#dad of boy #one shot #gow mimir #god of war #kratos #mimir #god of war ragnarok #mini fic #kratos x reader #mimir x reader #fanfiction #god of war fanfiction #god of war x reader #reader insert #atreus #gow freya

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hello-gloomy · 4 months

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*Y/n walks back in after hunting while Kratos guards the house*

Y/n: Alright it's baby time!

Y/n: Pants off Kratos!

Mimir: '-'

Y/n: Didn't see ya there Mimir

Kratos: *shaking his head*

#fanfic #god of war ragnarok #kratos #kratos x reader #x reader #god of war kratos #god of war x reader

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nexysworld · 10 months

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Trying Again

Read on AO3 🖤 Make a Request 🖤 Masterlist

A Ko-fi commission for the beautiful @elfven-blog. It was my first time writing Kratos!

Summary: Set post Ragnarok - After seeing you treat an ailing Atreus, Kratos realizes that he wants to try being a father again.

Pairing: Kratos x FemWife!Reader

Tags: NSFW, Smut, P in V sex, overstimulation, baby making, mentions of blood, no use of Y/N, MDNI.

The second the sun hit mid-sky you knew something was off, your husband was nothing if not routine and even on the odd occasion something did happen to cause Kratos to be late, it was never for long.

Nervousness bubbled in the pit of your stomach as you pondered where they could be and what had happened. Since the ending of Ragnarok peaceful times had washed over the land, outside of the small rebellions initiated by Odin’s lingering supporters – those didn’t have you much concerned though, small fries compared to those that fell to Kratos in memories past. Even still, something in your gut was gnawing at you, screaming something was wrong. Trying to avoid the thought, you busied yourself with tasks around the cabin. Cleaning, prepping meat, cooking, sharpening weapons, anything you could to keep your mind off of things. ‘Kratos is strong. You’re over thinking things.’ You repeated inwardly.

Soon night had fallen, and still no sign of Kratos, not able to take it anymore, you began to dress, hooking a sword into your belt. “Aye Lass, what’re you doing? Ye can’t be thinkin’ about going after him, you’re no fighter.” Mimir piped up from his spot on the table side. “I know but what if something is wrong? Kratos is no healer, he’s never out like this Mimir. I can’t just stay here and do nothing.” “You know Kratos wouldn’t approve of this, he would want you to wait.” “But he wouldn’t wait. He wouldn’t hesitate if he thought something was wrong.”

“I know yer worrying, but I think it would be best if –”

The argument was cut short by a loud pounding on the door to the cabin, it was so hard the walls around you began shaking, dust pouring down from the ceiling. For a brief moment you thought the whole cabin might come down – you froze in place not sure if you should investigate or not. Not a moment of silence later before the pouding began again, this time you opted to step forward cracking the door open. A huge man you didn’t recognize stood before you, blood caked to his head and face. “Are you the wife of Kratos?”

You nodded nervously. You could sense there was no malice in his voice, only concern, but it wasn’t enough to abate your growing fears. “Did something happen to him?” The man did not answer your question, reaching forward in a swift movement to wrap an arm around your back pulling you outside with him. “We must go,” was all he said before the runic tattoos along his arms began to glow with an iridescent blue. The world around you faded to black and it felt like falling through a waterfall made of wind. It only lasted for a few moments before your feet found purchase, light re-entering your eyes causing blurry vision. “What the hell?” You asked, rubbing at them until the ache disappeared and your vision was cleared again. Taking in your surroundings you didn’t recognize the location at all, it didn’t feel like Midgard or any of the other realms you’d had the experiences of visiting. The smell was too fresh and the symbols carved along the stony mountain pathways were not Nordic. “Come, wife of Kratos.” The man said, grabbing you by the arm and walking, not waiting for you to respond. “Where are we?” You asked, attempting to tug your arm back, but not succeeding. “It matters not.” Was the only flat response you received. “Where is my husband?” You demanded this time. “I am taking you to him.” “Is he ok?” “You will see for yourself.” Frustration at the man’s short responses had your inner temper threatening to boil over, but you kept yourself inline not knowing what was going on. It would have been almost ironic that he spoke like Kratos if it weren’t for how annoying it was coming from someone other than your husband. The walk felt like it lasted eternity as the two of you made your way down the stony pathway, desperately hoping to find your husband in one piece.

Your prayers were answered when you saw him there hunched over someone, a closer look and you realized it was Atreus. “By the gods!” You shouted running the rest of the distance over to them and kneeling down over your step son. “What happened to him? Are you ok?” The boy – now nearly a man – was unconscious, breathing rapidly. “I am fine, but Atreus has been injured. I do not know by what means. He returned to me from his search for the giants, asking for assistance. We made it out here and then he collapsed.”

You gave him a confused look. “That doesn’t sound right. You’ve been gone all day and well into the evening, surely you must’ve been doing something else in all that time.” “Time passes at different speeds in different realms.” Kratos reminded you. “Oh….right.” You replied, as you worked Atreus’ armor off of his body to better assess the situation. It was clear whatever was ailing him was definitely magical in nature but there was no immediate injury or runes that you could see. Bringing your hand to your chin in thought, you wracked your brain further. “Can you help him?” Kratos’ voice interrupted your thoughts.

“I think so, I just have to figure out the magic behind it.” Closing your eyes you took a deep breath in before pressing your fingers to the runes on your own arm, causing them to light up. “Opinbera!” You commanded, magic fluttering out from your fingertips encasing the boy, it sparked for a few moments before it dissipated entirely. “Shit!” “What is it?” Kratos asked, you knew him well enough to understand the hint of worry in his voice. “The caster of whatever magic this is was smart enough to counter against revealing magic.”

“Maybe Freya can help.” “Perhaps, but I don’t think we’d get there in time at this rate, going through any kind of portal magic may make things worse …. let me think a moment longer. I’m sure I can figure it out.” Tapping your fingers against the ground you tried again, flipping through the magic knowledge in your head. Healing was your specialty, you knew you could do it.

A few more moments passed and it finally hit you, you have seen Johtun magic like this before. Immediately, you activated the runes on your arm again. “Elskhuga eitur!” The magic encased Atreus and pulsed different colors, blue, purple, red, until finally black before dissipating into a puff of smoke.

The teen immediately sat up and coughed into his hand, lavender flower petals coming up with the spittle. “I was right.” You said with a soft smile rubbing his back. “Tell me, what woman did you spurn so badly that she did this to you?” “I….oh well…” Atreus bowed his head sheepishly as he caught his breath, a pink flush coming to his cheeks. “What is going on?” Kratos asked, annoyed.

“The magic used on him is called ‘Lover’s Poison’, while anyone can use it, it was Jotuhn magically typically used when a man was….let's say unfaithful.” You let out a soft giggle at the thought. Kratos didn’t find it nearly as amusing. “Atreus, what is the meaning of this? You said you needed assistance with locating a giant.” “B-because I did.” He let out a groan flopping back onto the ground rubbing his temples. “Just…give me a second to explain.” “It has already been a second.” “Kratos, my love, give him a moment to rest, alright?” You encourage your husband, moving to sit next to him, rubbing loving circles into his back. While he didn’t reply, you could feel the muscles under your fingers relax a little, a good start. Atreus sat back up, and adjusted to sit cross cross in front of you and his father. He rubbed the back of his head and let out an awkward laugh, his cheeks still covered in an embarrassed flush. “So…..Angroboda was kind of upset with me, but I didn’t know she did that. I really did need help finding the giant since she left, I just didn’t expect to pass out.” You pondered his words before replying. “That’s a pretty big reaction to just being upset, Atreus. What exactly did you do?” “We got into a fight and I uh…I thought we were broken up. On my last trip back to Midgard, I saw Thrud and we may have….look this is kind of awkward to talk about.” “I did not know you were…romantically involved with either of them.” Kratos said flatly. You on the other hand laughed again. “Did she ever say you two were broken up?” “Well no….not exactly….” “Oh my dear boy. Well, I guess that would do it. Hel hath no fury like a woman scorned.” You sighed and put your hand on his shoulder. “Listen, lets get back home so you can rest and eat a good meal. We can talk more about your love life more then, alright?” You leaned in to whisper. “Without your father, I promise.” Kratos obviously heard the comment and let out a groan, you opted to ignore it to carry on. “Now that that's settled….who is the big guy who brought me here? He was also covered in blood.” “Oh that's Brot.” Atreus stated. “He’s a giant I found during my journey. He’s not hurt, just….poor hygiene after hunting.” “I see…” You replied not questioning it further. A chortle left the large man who’d been leaning against a rock the whole time. “Well Brot, you’re more than welcome to join us as well if you’d like.” “No thanks, family dinners are not my style.” He replied with a shrug. Atreus stood up, dusting himself off a bit. “Here, I can take us back home. Brot taught me that portal spell.” “Atreus, you shouldn’t push yourself.” You warned, but he had already activated it, putting a hand on each of your shoulders. The free falling feeling was back before you were in the snow outside of the cabin.

Two transportations in one day had you wobbling a bit, Kratos helped you from the ground with ease so you could stand right, using him for support. “Are you alright?” “Yes, I’ll be alright.” To prove your point you let go of his arm and made your way inside by yourself, Kratos and your step son following behind. “By the Gods, you’re all finally back!” Mimir said, smiling. “I was gettin’ worried once the man up and took our Lassy too. And well if it isn’t Atreus, or I suppose Loki now, too!” “Hey Mimir, glad to be back.” Atreus said, propping a chair in front of the head.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner passed uneventfully, everyone catching up. Atreus chose to spend the night out with the wolves in lieu of the cabin along with Mimir, leaving you and Kratos alone. You couldn’t explain it but you could almost hear Kratos thinking despite his silence. You rolled over to face him, bringing a hand up to his cheek, feeling the rough skin and wiry hair. “My love, I know you’re not sleeping. Tell me what’s on your mind.” His eyes opened, and he returned the gesture bringing his own large calloused hand to your face. “You.” He answered plainly. “Me? But I am right here, why would you need to think about me instead of resting?” The two of you stayed like that for a while, neither moving. Kratos did not immediately answer your question. It wasn’t until the fire had finally died out, and moonlight was the only thing illuminating your face did he finally explain further. “You are very good with Atreus. Today before he fell ill, he said to me he thinks of you as a mother.”

“Oh, well I’m very glad to hear it. I love him as if he were my own.”

There was no verbal reply but you could vaguely see Kratos nod in the dull light. “I fear that I have not properly taken you into consideration.” “What does that mean?” “This cabin has many reminders of Faye, carved into the very wood, the trees around us. Does that…bother you? Freya had mentioned that for many women it may spark ill feelings.” “No. Of course not. Faye is no longer with us, but she was important to you, and without her I wouldn’t have Atreus or this version of my husband – I thank her for that.” There was a soft grunt in response. “Is that all that was on your mind?” You questioned. “No.” He answered honestly. “Then, what else is on your mind?” “I have been pondering it for a while. The thought of becoming a father again.” “Oh.” The words stunned you, Kratos had always maintained that he did not want more children now that Atreus was nearly fully grown. “What made you reconsider?” “You.” Kratos adjusted himself so he could roll towards you more, leaning in just enough to see the light hit his face, the sincerity in his eyes. “Every time I see you with Atreus it reminds me of what a family could be like. It reminds me of my time back in Greece, but the good moments with Calliope and her mother. I wish for that again, now that there may finally be peace.” “Kratos, to be clear, are you saying you want to have a child with me?” “Yes.”

You responded by leaning forward to press your lips to his. “Ok.” You said softly against them. “Put a baby in me then.” You had meant the words to be sweet and agreeable but, feeling his cock pressed against your thigh as it jumped showed you it had a far more powerful effect on him.

He returned your kiss fervently, wiry hair rough against your skin, as his large hands roamed down your body before sliding their way up your shirt to palm at your breasts. Moaning into his mouth you squirmed a little scooting closer into his touch. For being such a gruff and battle-worn god, he was quite tender and attentive in bed – though silent. He moved his kisses down your jaw and to your neck before tearing the night shirt off of you like it was merely paper. The reminder of his strength caused more heat to pool into your core, thighs pressed together in an attempt to ease some of the building tension. He pulled away, beginning to remove the remnants of his own leather armor and under garments. Your hand flicked, lighting some candles around the room with your magic. He raised an eyebrow at you. “I want to watch.” You said softly, raking your eyes along his muscled and scarred body. He replied by continuing his movements, removing the rest of his own garments, sending them to the floor with a dull clattering noise. When his hands came back to you, he spread your thighs apart with ease, tearing your small clothes off as well, leaving you bare before him. He placed a hand on your stomach where your womb was, giving it a soft rub. “I did not receive the chance to fully participate in the experience with my last two wives. I shall not allow the experience this time to go to waste.” He moved his hand down from your stomach, slipping a finger between your soft and wet fold before running it up and down your slit, taking an extra moment to circle your clit every time he reached it. A moan left your mouth and your back arched slightly as one of his fingers found their way into your wet hole, his thumb continuing to work your pearl of sensitive nerves. “K-Kratos…” His name left your mouth like a chant as heat and slick built further and further between your legs.

Another finger was added as he worked them apart to ease your hole open to be ready for his much larger cock. Your eyes were half lidded with pleasure already, you dared your eyes to travel downward to see his now fully hardened erection against the abs on his stomach. The memory of being stretched out on it, coupled with his never relenting fingers finally pushed you over the edge. Your legs trembled as his name flew from your mouth like a prayer, wetness soaking the bed beneath you.

“Do you think you are ready?” He asked, giving his cock a few pumps with his hand, smearing the growing precum along himself while he gives you a moment to recover and answer. “Mhm.” You said with a small nod, pulling your legs apart a little further as an invitation for him.

He leaned forward, using his hand to guide the fat swollen tip to your entrance. “W-wait.” You stopped him for a moment. “Sorry, I almost forgot.” You brought your hand to the rune on your stomach, tapping it before it glowed and disappeared. “Can’t put a baby in me with a dispel charm on my womb.”

He grunted in response, and once you laid back he eased himself into you at an agonizingly slow pace. No matter how many times you’ve laid with him before, each time felt like the first with the stinging stretch of the God’s cock opening you up inch by inch, until he could not go any farther. Balls deep, he waited again a nearly silent grunt leaving him as your walls fluttered around him. Your tightness sometimes had him fighting off the Ghost of Sparta in the back of his mind, remembering all the whore-plundering he had done when he was younger. You certainly didn’t help the urges he had to fuck into you like a wild beast – but luckily for you this Kratos loved his wife and wanted to make sure she felt good as well. When you brought your hands up to his shoulder, the quiet signal that it was okay to move, he did so slowly at first with shallow thrusts before building up speed. “F-fuck…” You mumbled out, feeling each time the weeping head would kiss your cervix. Something about knowing this was raw, knowing he was actively trying to fuck a baby into you had you more heated than expected. The tension was already building back up again at a fast rate, whining and moaning with each piston of his hips. The way his pelvis and thick hair would rub against your clit with each thrust, coupled with the way he rubbed all the right spots inside of you had you going wild, clawing at his back, whimpering his name. You were met with loud grunts above you, and you swore if you listened close enough what could almost amount to a stifled moan. So close to finishing again, you were desperate for pleasure, bucking back up into his thrusts, before he suddenly stopped all movement. “Roll over.” It was a command, not a question. He didn’t even give you the opportunity before he was grabbing you and flipping you onto your stomach before lifting your waist up, giving him better access to your hole. He thrust in to the hilt in one go, mounting you much deeper than before, and earning a pleasured scream from you before it died out into whimpers. Your head was fuzzy and hazy with this new angle, nothing but pleasure coursing through your body. He wrapped one arm around you so he could rub at your clit again while he did even thrusts into your hole. The next orgasm crashed down on you causing your legs to shake. He stopped thrust but left his cock buried inside of you as he continued rubbing your now overly sensitive bud, riling up a third overstimulated orgasm. “I can’t…I can’t…” You whined squirming in his grasp. “You can. You will.” He said continuing until he felt your walls clamp around him again. Incoherent words sputtered out of your mouth until you were simply drooling on the furs beneath you, brain wiped and body exhausted. “Good girl.” He said, patting your lower back softly, before renewing his grip on your hips. Now that he had you how he wanted you, he returned to his own pleasure, bucking into you at a much rougher pace, making sure each thrust ended deep inside of you. He flattened his hand on your stomach to intensify the feeling of his bulge as he continued in this new position. It wasn’t long before he was spilling his seed inside of you, of course making sure it was right at the entrance of your womb.

He adjusted you both so his cock remained inside of you as you lay together, not wanting to allow a single drop of his essence to spill from you. His cock was not softened yet and he would have been more than ready for round two, but he knew you well enough – the warm feeling of being fucked out, filled, and exhausted had you more than ready for sleep.

As the two of you lay there, he rubbed your back, shoulders, and arms with his free hand until he was sure you were nearly unconscious. Once asleep, or at least on the cusp of it, he pulled you close against himself, running his hand down to your stomach again, rubbing soft circles there to self sooth. He pictured what you would look like in a few months swollen with his child. He wondered if it would be another girl and if she would remind him of Calliope, or perhaps another boy like Atreus. He thought of what he would do differently this time around, what he would do the same. All his thoughts began to meld together until the God himself was finally asleep too, holding you close to him. He would never express it out loud, but Kratos was actually feeling excited.

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greatlydelirious · 1 year

Text

𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

Kratos x F!Reader

wordcount: 4.1k words

summary: Two lost souls find comfort in each other’s company.

warnings: slow-burn, falling in love, angst, fluff, bedsharing, lore heavy

a/n: This is a teaser of a scene between the reader and Kratos in the giant fic, “Of Gods and Men” that I’m writing. This is my “proof of concept” for you guys that I’m actually working on it. (The reader is OC in regards to some characteristics, but skin color is not specified.)

“…There is the heat of Love, the pulsing rush of Longing, the lover’s whisper, irresistible—magic to make the sanest man go mad.” - Homer, The Iliad

Voices ignite like fueled flames outside Kratos’s bedroom as someone enters Sindri’s home. Not just anyone can stir up that much ruckus though. The arrival of Kratos always elicited a flurry of questions and action. Despite your want to check on the god you don’t move from your supine position on the hard bed.

You continue to count the cracks in the ceiling above as if the number you came up with would unearth some deep truth within yourself. Time became a foreign concept as you tried to convince your body to relax. Sleep is elusive to you despite your mind’s craving for rest. Sindri told you, just as he did Atreus, that sleeping would make all the troubles of your mind work themselves out. Easier said than done.

That’s how you find yourself on a bed that’s not yours. One that you’ve only slept in once but couldn’t forget the feeling of. The furs below smell of him, earthy with notes of smoke and musk that remind you of the lush jungles in your home realm of Vanaheim.

Home.

It had been centuries since the last time you felt the security of such an ideal. To the dismay of your fickle heart, you felt that sense of contentment that comes with being home merely weeks ago in the arms of another. Someone you tried to remind yourself you couldn’t have. Someone who, like you, made a pact to never let themselves be kept in mind or body to another again.

It’s strange how night devolved hardened hearts into feeling such soft vulnerability. Memories have a way of burrowing deep in the brains of even those who try to forget. You’re sitting at the dining table in front of the roaring furnace. The warmth doesn’t completely stave off the coldness that stems from more than just the weather.

Sindri’s home is filled with a rare stillness, but it only works to grate on your nerves rather than bring you peace. Solace is nearly impossible to find in a world full of gods and men. Throw in the endless monsters and magic, and the notion is nothing but a fantasy for the whimsical. That you are not.

Your head darts up when a large shadow appears across the table. Wood groans as Kratos settles in the seat. It’s not often that the two of you get to sit in each other’s company alone without having other things on your mind like hunting or survival. The gripes of being a god and goddess in the opposition to the All-Father are endless.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Kratos grunts in response as he reaches for the pitcher of mead abandoned in the middle of the table. He fills the large tankard next to it to the brim before putting the pitcher back down with a weighty thump. You watch transfixed as Kratos’s adam’s apple bobs with each pull he takes from the cup.

The veins in his neck bulge and when some droplets of mead spill from the corners of his mouth, you can’t help but trail their path down his beard. For a moment you forget what was keeping you up in the first place.

“Something troubles you.”

A statement, not a question.

“I’m fine, Kratos. My woes matter not.” You feign indifference as you lean back in your chair, like his notice of your mood doesn’t make your heart leap in your chest.

Kratos leans forward, his hulking form hovering over some of the table, “Speak the truth, woman.” The word woman comes out in a growl, lingering with a threat that would never be followed through. Yet, it’s still effective enough to make you give in.

Your eyes move to focus on the expertly crafted wooden surface under your hands. Calmness is common nature for you, but something about Kratos’s piercing gaze makes you fumble to find words. Dryness coats your mouth as if your body was cursed to not utter your torment.

“I had a twin sister once. Her name was Hnoss, everyone always said we were identical, but I still think she was prettier. She…”

When your voice begins to crack you stop. Emotions you’ve suppressed for hundreds of years come bubbling to the surface. Thinking about your sister was one thing, but voicing it out loud made it all too real again. Like she’s not what haunts your dreams, but the young girl you once played in ponds and climbed trees with.

“Go on.”

The earnestness makes you chance a glance up. A small, sad smile curves your lips at the sight of Kratos’s focus trained on you. He may not say much, but he always listened. No wonder Mimir didn’t mind being stuck with the man.

“She often went to Bifröst, a rainbow bridge that reaches between Midgard and Asgard, hoping to run into our father. People predicted that Hnoss would reunite our parents. Alas, hope is not always enough to alter reality.”

Kratos slides his tankard toward you, giving you a moment of reprieve without a word. Picking it up, you swirl the amber ale with a twinge of bitterness. Normally you would say gods made pitiful fathers. That was until you met Kratos and Atreus.

The god makes a habit of surpassing expectations.

Sending a quick prayer to the lost goddess mother of Vanaheim you take a giant swig of the mead. Soft notes of bready malt accompany aromatics with a musty, oaky finish coats your tongue. A clicking noise escaped through your teeth as you cringe at the overpowering taste.

The sound of Kratos humming in approval grounds you from your wandering thoughts. You nod at him in appreciation before taking a steadying breath and continuing,

“During her visits, there was a god by the name of Heimdall who kept watch over the rainbow bridge that would entertain her with stories of old and new. One day he revealed to Hnoss that he possessed night vision and never slept. He also claimed to have existed since the beginning of time and told her tales about the creation of various things.

While our father remained absent, Hnoss was taken to Baldur's Stead to comfort her in her sorrow since it was believed to be a place where healing occurred. Baldur’s wife Nanna would often cradle her during these times of profound need. One time in particular, with Nanna by her side, Hnoss shared a strange dream she had about Queen Hela, a queen who was half living woman and half corpse. In her dream, Hela entered Asgard and declared ‘A lord of the Aesir I must have to dwell with me in my realm beneath the earth.’ Hnoss was paralyzed by fear after experiencing this dream.”

You take another swig from the tankard before handing it back to Kratos. Obsidian eyes stay locked on you as their owner downs the rest of its contents.

“What happened to your sister?”

“Hnoss was never the same after that. They say that those who use seidr magic will eventually succumb to the evils of its art. Unfortunately for her, it was true. Similar to Baldur, she died a needless death.”

And just like all of the Vanir people. Many of their lives were taken by the power-hungry Aesir for no other reason than greed. Peace in these realms always comes at a price.

“So that’s why I’m troubled, Kratos. Now my own dreams are filled by her. No matter how hard I try to forget.”

Kratos hums in acknowledgment, “I too know the pain of losing a sibling.”

Comfortable silence hangs between the two of you for a couple of minutes. The time is filled with unspoken understanding lined with a sense of melancholy.

“Drink.”

Kratos seems to present a bottle of wine out of nowhere but you don’t hesitate to accept it. Not even gods are above drinking their sorrows away. Another pitcher of mead and bottle of wine later and you’re drunk. Loose-lipped, fumbled-word, soft-legged drunk.

You’re currently giggling like a fool as you lean against the bedroom door simply staring at Kratos while he sits on his bed. When you started to create too much of a ruckus in the living room he took into his room since you refused to leave his side. You’d slap yourself in the forehead for that fact the following days later.

“Come.”

Your feet move before your mind can fully process the command. It’s as if your body is compelled to obey him without hesitation. The idea goes against everything you stand for. You ran from the one home you’d ever known and the one man that ever truly loved you, because of your refusal to submit to any man or god. Thankfully, the mead-fueled haze creeping into your brain keeps you from spiraling any further.

Kratos tilts his head to look up at you as you stand between his thick legs. A lazy smile spreads across your face and before you can think you lift your hand to cup his cheek. Although he captures your wrist, he doesn’t pry you away. Tentatively, your thumb rubs small circles into the rough flesh.

For a moment he indulges in your touch, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. You smell like vanilla with a citrus charge of tangerine and cinnamon. Something tantalizingly sweet, forbidden.

A rumbling noise emanates from Kratos’s chest when your thumb ghosts along the scar on his right eye. You wonder how he got the nasty slice. What god put it there many years ago. Unfortunately, Kratos is still a mystery to you. Bits and pieces of his life are shared sparingly through short stories during long journeys, but nothing else beyond that.

Nothing else beyond that. The four words ring in your ears. What are you doing? It’s not your right to be in his room, near his bed, and touching him of all things. You are companions, sure. Friends? Maybe. But partners? Nothing of the sort.

Any semblance of tipsiness you had quickly evaporates, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“ You stop when Kratos brings his other hand to your hip, squeezing lightly.

“No need to explain. Not to me.”

Your hand drops when he moves to lay on his side on the bed. Kratos scoots back until his back is against the wall.

“Lay.”

When you hesitate, he pats the small space in front of him in an almost comedic fashion due to his large size, “Lay, agápi”

The word he calls you is spoken in a language you’ve never heard before, but he says it with such tenderness that it makes you slide into the bed. You start to think you’ve been sleeping this whole time when Kratos wraps a thick arm around your waist to pull you flush against his front. After three years of pining, you’re in the arms of the man you admired. The sudden realization is almost too much.

“Will you tell me a story from your homeland?”

Kratos’s silence at your abrupt question makes you huff out a laugh. Butterflies were swarming in your belly and if you didn’t do something about them you would never fall asleep.

Was it childish for you to ask for a bedtime story? Perhaps. But this might be the last time you get to have Kratos to yourself like this. You gently nudge him with your leg. It doesn’t even slightly jostle the mountain of a man, but it does keep his attention.

“Come on! An old man like yourself must know hundreds.”

After a beat, Kratos sounds almost bashful if that emotion was even possible for the god, “There’s this… poem.”

“What’s it about?

“A cunning general and a war over forbidden love.”

Ironic.

“Is it based on truth?”

“Yes, but I prefer the poem.”

You giggle at the displeasure lacing his tone.

“Can you recite a line for me?”

Kratos grunts at the way your tired eyes have you looking at him through your lashes. You’re the picture of innocence and natural beauty. It stirs something inside him that’s laid dormant for years. He would say Aphrodite’s beauty paled in comparison to yours, but you’re more than that. You’re a beauty beyond comparison wrapped in a warm light.

“I wish that strife would vanish away from among gods and mortals, and gall, which makes a man grow angry for all his great mind, that gall of anger that swarms like smoke inside of a man's heart and becomes a thing sweeter to him by far than the dripping of honey.”

You twist your head to the side to look back at Kratos. The darkness in the room keeps his features hidden yet you still can’t help but smile. A truly genuine, happy smile despite the small crookedness from your drunken state.

“Wow… I think that’s the most I’ve ever heard you say in one breath. Didn’t think you were one for lovely words.”

Kratos makes a low noise in his throat, contemplating for a moment if letting you in his room, in his bed, was really a good idea. When you suddenly snuggle back into his front, he doesn’t move a muscle. Your soft and warm against the hard expanse of his chest. The word “comforting” comes to the forefront of his mind but he tries his best to suppress the feeling.

Only to fail when you open your mouth again.

“The totality of emotions can either make or break a man. Let them in, Kratos.” Your voice oozes drowsiness encompassed by a softness you saved for his son Atreus. It’s an inflection filled with sweet sincerity and motherly care.

When a light snore reaches his ears, Kratos looks down at your face. You’re already sound asleep. His arms tighten a fraction before letting himself close his eyes. He told himself it was just for a night.

It’s never that simple.

For long seconds after you woke up the next morning you took in the sleeping man’s face. His features were free of stressed lines and his usual frown. Kratos looked even more handsome under the lull of sleep.

His arms were secured around you like a lifeline. It wasn’t a lover’s embrace, but the comfort of another person’s body aiding you both into a dreamless sleep. Although, it would be a lie if you said your heart didn’t flutter when you woke up to his face buried in your neck, the scruff of his beard making your skin prickle and heat.

You managed to slip out of the bed without waking the beast of a man. A feat when he held you so tight. When you made it to the door you chanced one more look back at Kratos, a heaviness settling inside you. For days you’ll blame your abrupt intimacy on you both drinking, but it would take oceans of alcohol to muddy the god’s mind.

Kratos never said anything about that night; never said that you helped him have the first truly peaceful sleep in his lifetime.

The sane part of your brain is cursing you for laying in Kratos’s bed like a loyal dog waiting for its master. Especially when he gave you no inkling that your presence was wanted. You’re so lost in your thoughts that you flinch when the door opens.

Kratos doesn’t falter at your uninvited presence as he shuts the bedroom door with a heavy sigh. You sit up on his bed as he takes off his armor with rough hands, letting the items loudly clank to the floor with little care. The blades go first, then his cuffs, and the axe.

Concern fills you at his sullen state. Emotions can only be bottled up for so long and Kratos was an expert at doing just that. You know he doesn’t want your help, but he needed it more than he’ll ever admit.

“You carry your burdens with you in mind and hand.” Your eyes trail to his Blades of Chaos on the floor. They act as physical reminders of the pain and suffering he caused not only strangers and gods, but the ones he loved the most.

“What do you know of carrying burdens?” His voice is gruff, but not fueled with malice.

“Don’t you remember that night?”

Guilt washes over Kratos’s features as remembrance dawns on him. The furrow of his brows and the twitch of his jaw is evidence enough. Sighing, you scoot to the edge of the bed, “I will not claim to understand your suffering Kratos, but I do know what it means to be lost. To follow your path while being confused as to why you must. To wonder why you get to live when they don’t.”

Kratos’s shoulders are visibly tense as you stare up at him. Standing up, an idea pops into your head that is so outlandish that you whisper it in hopes that he doesn’t completely hear it.

“For just one night give your burdens to me. Let me take care of you, Kratos. Someone needs to. Let that someone be me.”

A part of you doesn’t think but knows he will reject you. Especially when those eyes filled with shadows stare at yours unblinking and unwavering in their passivity. Who were you to ask for something so personal?

A love-sick fool, that’s who.

Every fiber of your being is pulled toward Kratos, but that doesn’t mean the feeling is mutual. Dejection washes over you at your boldness fueled by foolish hope. Right when you’re going to walk away, Kratos clears his throat.

“Okay.”

You blink at him like a small child would at the sight of a giant bear. Odin himself must have been playing a trick on you because you can’t believe that Kratos just accepted your proposition. For a solid minute, you stay standing with your chests inches apart.

Heat blooms in your cheeks as you become acutely aware of your closeness. Every deep breath he takes causes his taut stomach to brush against you. Your neck starts to feel the strain of having to crane back to make eye contact with him.

“Do I need to speak in even simpler words?” Kratos’s deep voice snaps you out of your gawking. Never had a man made you feel like a mere mortal; let alone make you like the idea of being overpowered.

“I-“ You clear your throat, finally letting the air dense with an unspoken tension fill your lungs, “N-no.”

Unconsciously, you rub your hands on your trousers and take a deep breath to steady yourself. “Sit on the bed.”

Kratos follows your command without question. Carefully, you crawl behind him on the bed and prop yourself on your knees. The skin under your hands tenses when you bring them up to rest on his shoulders.

“Relax. I mean you no harm. I swear.”

Your voice is just above a whisper and laced with sincerity. You begin to knead the endless knots that harden Kratos’s shoulders. The endless burdens he carries on his back would crush any mortal. When Kratos lets out a satisfied groan you have to bite your lip to stifle out a noise of your own.

Now’s not the time to start frothing at the mouth.

Instead of letting yourself turn into a pathetic puddle of suppressed desire, you opt to continue your efforts to comfort.

“We will get to Asgard. Atreus was raised by a strong man. I know he is doing more than fine.”

“A strong man perhaps, but not a noble one.”

Your thumbs travel down to press into the rigid flesh of his shoulder blades while you scoff.

“What does it mean to be noble? You are strong, courageous, watchful, full of wisdom, and give astute instruction. Those are very noble traits.”

Kratos shakes his head, “You do not know the extent of my sins.”

You sigh at the persistence of his inadequacy. How could he not see that his obvious guilt was the biggest indicator of his good heart? Your hands move to his bulky chest to lightly rub the muscles.

“We are more than the sum of our parts, Kratos. Bad deeds cannot be undone, but what we do after is what matters most. We must be better, work harder, and do whatever it takes to keep the realms from falling into chaos.”

At your words, Kratos takes hold of your wrists, “Where did you hear that?”

“I heard that from centuries of living. From reaching the lowest I could possibly go and coming out of it stronger than I was before.”

You move so you’re next to his side and only hesitate for a fraction of a second before you bring a hand to his cheek. Kratos doesn’t resist as you turn his head with the gentle guidance of your palm. Instinctively your thumb gently rubs back and forth against his rough flesh. The gesture feels different than the last time. It’s more intimate, rawer.

“You’re a good man, father, and friend, but if you continue to let the past dictate your future you will never see that for yourself.” You bring your other hand up to rest on the middle of his chest, “Open your heart. I promise it will only serve to make you stronger, not weaker.”

The way Kratos is looking into your eyes leaves you breathless. It’s almost like he’s seeing you for the first time. Not your outward appearance, but the depths of your soul.

Unlike usual, the silence that fills the room is stifling. So much so that your skin begins to heat, a humid tension that rivals Vanaheim hanging in the air. Maybe you said too much. Maybe you’re silly for spewing your opinions to a man who didn’t ask for them. Maybe this is what it feels like to love someone that’s out of your grasp.

Dejected by your imprudence you leave him with one last thought, “The totality of emotions can either make or break a man. What will it do to you?”

When you try to climb off the bed, one of Kratos’s hands shoots out to grab your bicep.

“Where are you going, woman.”

His voice is deep and reminds you of the forcefulness of booming thunder. One that shakes you more than Thor could ever make. Swallowing thickly, you advert your eyes to the ground, “I don’t want to disturb you any further.”

“Stay.”

Without another word, you let Kratos slowly pull you down on the bed. Half of your body lays on him as he rests his chin on your head. He feels safe and solid, protecting and proud. If only he can see what you see. If only he can feel what you feel.

You let yourself indulge in being in Kratos’s arms just like before and close your eyes. In seconds your body relaxes. Exhaustion mixed with the tidal wave of emotions you’ve gone through makes the perfect sedative.

Kratos watches your breathing slow as you go lax on his chest. He can’t help but admire you in the secrecy of your sleep.

The light shining through the window casts a glowing effect on your long locks, making it seem as though a halo is over your head. Your hair reminds him of the sunsets in Sparta, golden and awe-inspiring. More than that you remind him of that comforting feeling that comes with being where one belongs.

Home.

When Kratos grunts at the absurdity of his thoughts, the noise causes your leg around his hip to tighten. He carefully traces your spine with the tips of his thick fingers. You’re so small and fragile in his hold, like a mouse cuddling in a bear’s den during a frigid winter despite the looming danger.

You’re unlike any goddess he’s met before; calm, kind of heart, strong, and free from the chains of greed that comes with a being with that kind of power. You told Kratos to open his heart and be better for the future. Only one other woman told him those exact words.

“The culmination of love is grief. And yet we love despite the inevitable; we open our hearts to it. To grieve deeply is to have loved fully. Open your heart to the world as you have opened it to me and you will find every reason to keep living in it.”

An epiphany hits Kratos so hard that it causes him to hold you tighter to his chest.

You’re something to live for.

Any and all interactions are greatly appreciated.

greek translation: agápi = love

#kratos x reader #god of war x reader #god of war ragnorak #god of war #kratos #delirious masterlist

1K notes · View notes

grievedeeply · 1 year

Note

In that case, could I request a Kratos with a daughter!reader where it's her first time hunting and she gets hurt by the deer/bear or whatever creature she's hunting ?

the rite of passage.

pairing: kratos x child!reader ( familial )

summary: it is a rite of passage in your family to learn to hunt. your father intends on teaching you.

notes : i picture the reader at about 11, and you're older than atreus by at least a few years. i think he's about 7 in this :) i haven't written for kratos before so i'm a bit worried about this but i hope you enjoy it anyway LOL.

it was necessary to learn how to hunt. for your survival, for your family's survival, as well. it was something you had to know how to do, and your father intended on teaching you.

your mother had volunteered to do it herself, but he insisted on her staying behind with your brother, atreus.

he had been growing up too quickly. even you saw that. you didn't remember much about the day he was born, but you remembered the smile on her face as she looked down at him. you remembered the first time she had placed him on your lap. you looked down at him, confused. then, you smiled.

you were protecting him by doing this. you wanted to keep him safe, though you knew that was something that was far from possible. he would have to learn the world the hard way, as everyone else does.

you pulled on your boots, grabbed your bow from where it hung upon the wall, and stepped out into the sun. your bow was still slightly too big for you. your mother had made it in preparation for this day— and she was working on one for atreus, as well. she said it was better to make it early than to make it too late. you could only nod in agreement.

your father, kratos, followed you and shut the door behind him. "are you ready?" his voice echoed around you, and you looked over your shoulder up at him with a small smile on your lips.

he was always busy, out doing something that seemed more important than you or your brother. you tried to reason that he was doing everything he did for you, but you would be lying if you said the lack of his presence wasn't saddening. it was still your formative years, you told yourself, there was still time. no matter how much you reassured yourself, there was a part of you that knew he would always find something to do outside of the stave. whether that be hunting, or gathering materials— it didn't matter.

he would always be gone.

he led you through the trees, your boots covered in mud and grass as you followed after him. you could only imagine your mothers displeasure at the sight, but you pushed it out of your mind to focus on the task at hand.

"what are we hunting?" you questioned, clutching your bow tightly in one hand. you didn't even know how to shoot it. you wondered why he didn't tell you to shoot at a tree or something— to at least give you a warm up. he remained silent, his steps much heavier than yours ever would be. you imagined every animal hearing him from miles away. how did he ever get anything done out here?

you let out a sigh from underneath your breath. you knew he heard it. he always did.

you turned your attention upwards, towards the leaves on the trees and the clouds in the sky. it felt as though they understood you better than anyone else ever would. you spared a glance at your father, who continued leading you through the woods. he walked at a leisurely pace for him, but it took a bit of effort for your smaller legs to keep up.

"deer." he said, splitting the calmness of the air with his monotonous sounding tone. "we hunt deer." he told you, stopping in his tracks. "what do you see?" he asked you, his eyes meeting yours. you looked around, shrugging your shoulders. "a lot of trees..?" you questioned.

"think."

you pursed your lips, taking another look at your surroundings. there was nothing that stood out too much to you, at least not at first. all you could see was trees. you could hear the birds calling in the distance. you wished you were one of them.

your eyes landed on an uneven patch of leaves, and you could see the dryness of the grass underneath them. "there," you pointed with your free hand, "tracks?" you spoke, sounding more like a question than a statement.

"correct." your father responded. he gestured for you to follow him with a quick movement of his head, and he led you over to where the tracks visibly began. "you will track it." he told you, no hesitation evident in his voice.

"me?"

he nodded.

you turned your head back to the tracks after prying your eyes off of him. what was he thinking? you didn't know what you were doing. you resisted the urge to groan, at the idea. you crouched down to get a better look, noticing that the pattern of the leaves being ruffled up from movement continued for at least another few feet.

"this way," you said to him, "i guess." you muttered to yourself. you didn't know what you were supposed to get out of doing this. there was no way you would find a deer like this. you didn't even know how to find it once you lost its tracks.

your father followed behind you, steps lighter than yours were. how was he doing that? with his size and stature, you could only assume that he was horribly loud while hunting. how was he making himself so quiet on his feet? you had so many questions. none that he would answer right now. you knew him too well.

you zoned out for a moment, though you continued to follow the path the deer had made through the bushes. what were you doing out here? how was his teaching method actually teaching you anything? it seemed like you were the one teaching yourself. you pursed your lips, and stepped into a clearing.

you lost it.

you turned on your heel, throwing your arms up in frustration. "i lost it—!" your sentence was cut off by the heavy pressure of an animal on top of you. you could feel the horns of it— whatever it was— piercing through the skin of your abdomen. it trampled over you, it's hoofs clearly trying to find a way to escape from the situation. your father rushed towards you, sliding on his knees to reach you quicker.

the deer ran off, startled by his arrival. your bow had been snapped in half by the sheer force of the animal, and you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. what would your mother say? would she be disappointed in you? you put your hand on your stomach, lifting it up after a moment only to be met with the sight of blood.

you cringed, suddenly feeling nauseous at the sight. "y/n." your father's voice rang out in your ears, and you could barely keep your eyes open enough to look at him.

he had suffered far worse out here, right? you thought to yourself. why was this such a big deal to you? why were you bleeding so much? how did you let yourself get so started by the thing?

"stay awake." he told you, his hands replacing yours. they were bigger than your entire abdomen, almost. he applied pressure to it, trying to stop the bleeding. it couldn't have been that bad, right?

"okay," you said to him, voice breathless as you forced yourself to watch him. were you losing consciousness from this?

why couldn't you see him anymore?

you opened your eyes, and the sight of a wood ceiling filled your vision. you smelt something— something sweet. your mother's cooking. a weak smile formed on your lips, and you tried to push yourself up with the palms of your hands. you were in your parents shared bedroom, not your own. you glanced down at your abdomen, and the events from before flashed through your mind?

how long had it been since that happened?

"you are awake." your father's voice came from the doorway, and he sounded relieved. you nodded, "barely."

"good." he replied, taking a few large steps towards you. his hands came to rest on your shoulders, gently pushing your back against the sheets again. "lie down." was all he said, and you couldn't bring yourself to argue with him.

"how are you feeling?" he asked you, tone clearly hesitant to keep the conversation going for some reason. did he not know what else to say. "i'm fine. hurts a little, still." you shrugged your shoulders with pursed lips.

"good. that's.. good." he cleared his throat, lifting his hands from your shoulders. he hadn't realized he was still holding onto you. it grounded him. you were alive.

seeing you laying there like that.. it reminded him of a past he wished to leave far behind. he couldn't bear a loss like that again. not you. he promised himself he wouldn't let you get injured again. not from an animal, certainly not from any person or god.

"what's wrong?" your voice took him out of his thoughts. "nothing is wrong." he replied without missing a beat. what was he thinking about? you wondered. the look on his face.. you couldn't help but to wonder.

"i am glad you are okay." he told you.

"me, too."

"we will resume our hunt once you are fully recovered."

"are you gonna teach me anything this time?"

you could've swore you almost saw him roll his eyes at your words, "i was teaching you."

"right."

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#god of war #gow #god of war ragnarok #gow ragnarok #god of war x reader #gow x reader #kratos x reader #god of war kratos x reader #kratos god of war x reader

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roguerambles · 1 year

Text

Rebellion

God of War Fic

Warnings - 18+Only. Descriptions of violence, domestic violence, blood, the Gods being awful.

Something of a sequel to Secrets in the Garden. I wanted Poseidon to get his comeuppance, and for Reader to escape Olympus. Where oh where will she end up...?

The world outside was crumbling.

Atlantis was gone. The Titans were free. Kratos marched against Olympus, had stated his intent to take Zeus’s head. The Gods had gathered upon Olympus, a show of strength, but you could feel it. Fear gathering above their heads like a storm cloud, a tremble in the air as Kratos approached. The Underworld itself had failed to contain Kratos and his rage, and now he brought war upon the heavens.

You needed to escape.

The Ghost of Sparta had no reason to resent you specifically, but you did not want to wait for the fallout of his actions to crash upon you, as it no doubt would for all living under Olympus and its shadow. Anyone and anything in the God of War’s way, inadvertently or not, was in danger, and you had no desire to wait in his path. You did not care if that made you a traitor, or a coward, or whatever insult would be cursed at you later. Kratos could have Olympus, he could grind it to dust under his heel, you wanted to finally be free of it all.

Poseidon’s chambers on Olympus were familiar, and you had hoped to sneak away while the Gods bickered and fretted at the mountaintop, hurriedly working to secure their defences. Fear gathered like a storm cloud, indignation at the audacity of one of Zeus’s bastards pointing his blade at them.

There was little you wished to take with you. You were not even sure where to go, your only real destination being away. You waited as long as you dared, listened as the sounds of raised voices and thunder cracked high above, before making your move, darting quickly for the corridor beyond Poseidon chambers—

“Going somewhere?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. Zeus’s white, clouded eyes peered at you from the shadowed hallway, his voice low. The King of the Gods paranoia had only worsened since news of Kratos, since Apollo and Artemis and Dionysus had refused his summons and disappeared, presumably abandoning the upcoming fight. He was possibly the worst person you could have run into, and you tried to resist the panic slowly coiling its fingers around your neck.

“I was looking for Poseidon.” You lied, dipping into a low curtsey as Zeus approached, the torches casting shadows across his face.

“Is that so?” Zeus did not believe you, you did not have to look up at his face to see that.

“Yes.” You kept your voice level, but the quiver was still there, and you felt your fingers digging into your palms. “I…I am afraid, Lord Zeus.” It was the truth, you thought, as you lifted your head, trying to look as delicate and helpless as possible. “I am afraid of what comes.”

Perhaps hearing you admit fear gave Zeus a distraction from his own, gave him something to look down on, to direct his distain at someplace else. He scoffed at you, a smug, humourless smile on his face. “I defeated the Titans once, woman, I can do so again. Kratos will rue the day he betrayed Olympus.” He held out his hand to you, his voice soft and condescending. “There now…you have no reason to be afraid.”

You reluctantly took his hand and allowed him to guide you to your feet, forcing a smile onto your face that you hoped conveyed relief.

“Yes. Of course. You are correct—"

Zeus’s palm was against your cheek and you went still, cold dread seizing your chest. You looked up, finding his cloudy eyes staring at you intently.

Oh no, oh no, oh no—

“My brother does not take care of you.” His fingers drifted down your cheek, trailing over your neck and you barely resisted the impulse to slap his hand away. His gaze roamed over your body, a hunger you had grown wearily used to his eyes. “Come to my chambers. You’ll be safe there.”

Zeus’s personal quarters were at the very top of Olympus. You would never be able to slip away from there. Panic dug into your chest like icy talons, your tongue frantically trying to produce something that would allow you to refuse him without drawing his ire.

Fates, help me—

“Brother.” Poseidon’s voice boomed from somewhere behind you, colder than winter. You did not think you had ever felt such relief at his presence.

Irritation flashed across Zeus’s face, his eyes snapping towards Poseidon as he strode down the hall towards you. “Poseidon.” He made no attempt to remove his hand from your neck, a sneer curling his lip when Poseidon’s large hand closed around your wrist, yanking you roughly away from him. “Shouldn’t you be securing your forces?”

Poseidon’s grip on your wrist tightened. You flinched and tried to pry your arm free, but he simply pulled you close again. “I came to check on my wife.” He muttered lowly. Zeus scoffed, and for a horrible moment you thought both Gods would come to blows.

Instead, Poseidon began to march you back towards his chambers, and your heart sank into your stomach. You felt Zeus’s gaze on your back until the doors swung shut, and Poseidon growled in your ear.

“What were you doing?”

Poseidon’s luxurious bedchamber suddenly felt far too small, the marble walls too close and getting closer. “Nothing.”

“Do not lie to me.” His hand clamped around your upper arm, squeezing painfully, and you wanted to scream, to tear at his fingers and eyes until he bled. “Where were you going?”

Something in you snapped. Anger flared in your gut as you spun to glare up at Poseidon’s face – you placed your hands on his chest and shoved. It did little; his grip on you only tightened, but surprise flashed across his face at your sudden defiance, although anger rapidly replaced it. “Away.” You spat. “I wanted to get away. To go—"

“Go where? Nowhere is safer than here.” Poseidon’s fingers dug into your arms, hot as pincers. “Do you think Kratos will spare you? Just because you whored for him whenever I wasn’t looking—”

You tried to pull away, to push at his chest, to try and put some distance between you but he only gripped you tighter, his expression growing darker and darker. “Let go of me—”

“Or maybe Zeus?” Poseidon yanked you closer, his hold tighter than any shackle. “I see how he looks at you. Is being my Queen not good enough? What more could you possibly want—?”

“I didn’t want to be your damn Queen!”

It was as though he didn’t even hear you. Or perhaps he just wasn’t listening. Since when had Poseidon ever truly listened to you? His grip tightened and you cried out. “You’re hurting me!”

You knew it was futile. Poseidon did not care if he hurt you. He never had.

Poseidon sneered and threw you against the bed, looming over you, voice rising with fury. “Who else? Who else have you been spreading your legs for while I fight to defend our home? Helios? Hercules? I will have answers, you—”

“Nobody!” You pushed yourself back to your feet, shoving against Poseidon’s chest, your entire body screaming at you to flee, but there was nowhere, nowhere to go. “I haven’t!”

“Do not lie to me!” Poseidon bellowed, his hands grabbing your shoulders and squeezing hard, the pain making you cry out and squirm under his grasp.

“Poseidon, stop! Please, just stop!” Your eyes stung and your vision blurred, you refused to weep, not in front of him, but your cries seemed to give him pause, and he looked down at your arms, bruises already forming from where his hands gripped.

He sighed, a drawn out, long suffering sound, and pulled you close again, and you wanted to scream. Poseidon buried his face in your neck, sighing heavily, his grip loosening only slightly. “Why do you anger me so?” His hands wandered down your body, heavy and grasping, preventing you from pulling away. “I do hate quarrelling with you…”

You bit down hard on your lip, the taste of blood on your tongue, swallowing the bile threatening to climb up your throat. Your eyes fell on his Conch Shell, staring at you from the table just behind him. You remembered the day Kratos had come for it, and the day he’d returned it, how you’d had him in Poseidon’s own bed afterwards, how you’d enjoyed his body against yours, on every surface that could take you both in Poseidon’s palace.

You were under no illusions that any possible affection Kratos conceivably had for you did not go much beyond physical. There was every chance that now he was coming to destroy all of Olympus, if you didn’t get out now you would be crushed under the rubble.

Poseidon’s teeth grazed your neck, his hands sliding under the fabric of your dress. His body pressed insistently against yours, pushing you back towards the bed, and you reached out, your fingers grasping at the Shell. Kratos and his anger flashed in your mind, and you reached for it, reached for that rage that made him brave or mad enough to challenge the Gods, to make even a piece of it yours. You thought of Amphitrite, discarded and forgotten and gone, and fury flared within you so fierce and hot you couldn’t breathe.

“My Queen…” Poseidon murmured, his breath hot against your neck. “All is forgiven…”

“Get off of me.”

You brought the Shell down as hard as you could, slamming it into the back of Poseidon’s skull. He cried out and threw himself back away from you, more from shock than any real pain. He stared at you, wide eyed, and you stared back, chest burning, your knuckles bleeding white as you clung to your makeshift weapon.

Rage filled Poseidon’s eyes, frothing like the sea during a violent storm, his handsome face twisting into an ugly snarl as he lunged for you like a starving shark.

“You ungrateful, scheming whore—”

You screamed as you swung the Shell again, it’s spiked edge cutting into the side of Poseidon’s face just before he could reach you. He roared like a wounded beast, crashing into you and sending you both tumbling from the bed. His hand clamped around your wrist, and you screamed again, fear laced with anger and disgust as you kicked and scratched and struck at him, the Shell’s spikes digging into the flesh of your hands.

“Let me go, let me go, let me go—”

“How dare you, you treacherous—!”

Poseidon was cut off as you slammed the Shell into his face again, throwing your entire body into the swing. He cursed and yelled, his hands clawing at you as you threw yourself on top on him, bringing the Shell down on his head, over and over. Blood spat across the floor, across your dress, but you kept swinging, shrieking with panic and fear, and so much anger, spilling out like a tidal wave.

You swung and swung, and did not stop, until something cracked and so much red spilled onto the cold marble beneath you. The Shell, coated crimson, tumbled from your hands, crashing noisily to the floor as you stared down at the ruined mess of Poseidon’s face.

You fell from him, turning your head and promptly emptied your stomach, bile mixing with Poseidon’s blood.

Get up.

You retched and heaved, tears coating your cheeks as you stumbled to your feet. You had not killed him, the Gods did not die so easy, but you had hurt him. His chest still rose and fell, the pool of blood beneath him already beginning to shrink as his body fought to repair the damage you had inflicted. He would wake, he would be angry, and you had to be gone.

You fumbled towards the door when something gleaming caught your eye. Your head snapped towards it, your throat growing tight.

The Queen’s Trident - Amphitrite’s Trident, for it had never felt like yours – hung on the wall, untouched since your wedding day. You stared at the weapon, the symbol of your marriage to Poseidon, of your position as his queen, his property.

Take it.

In the end, you did not know if you really heard someone’s voice, or if your frazzled mind was playing tricks on you, but your fingers closed around the Trident and you pulled it from the wall, cool and unfamiliar in your hand.

You did not look back. You opened the door, and you ran.

#god of war #god of war greek era #god of war kratos #god of war fic #god of war fanfic #god of war x reader #god of war fanfiction #gow x reader #god of war kratos x reader #kratos x reader

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yandere-kokeshi · 4 months

Text

Yandere Headcanons of Kratos

Warnings: yandere behavior, talks about liking the different sex (male), kidnapping, forced affection, and mention of killing (duh).

A/N: yeah, I started writing this, and now it’s posted; I’d love requests from this man! This is written as the current Kratos (2022). Hope you enjoy <3!

@sakuracream, here it is!

He’s insanely protective, and just as possessive in the sense that everybody will know you are taken by his menacingly form standing behind you. He acts like a guard dog, always behind you with his resting face, ensuring that nobody disrespects you. But, he’s also caring in his own way.

It’s a slow burn with him. Kratos isn’t one for simply falling in love with someone, especially with the amount of guilt, shame, and fear he carries each day of his life. He’s lost so many, and doesn’t want to get attached again. Even if he admits it or not, Kratos suffers from abandonment + trust issues. There’s a lack of consistency in his life from as far back as he can remember. So, when first meeting you, it’s harsh.

The meetings of you two are likely between Atreus. You could be a sorcerer they ran into on a late evening, Atreus quickly becoming on good terms with you; begging for you to help him with certain topics, or teaching him things of magick.

You could be a blacksmith, Sindri making you two meet as his rather permanent weapon needs help. Or, in an infrequent case, an enemy turned into a good ally. Either way, opening up for him isn’t easy.

Again, it’s a slow burn. He slowly notices how you make him feel — and it irks him. He doesn’t like feeling fear when he loses sight of you, or when you mumble to yourself, he hates feeling jealousy on not being able to hear what you’re saying. It’s difficult for him to analyze his emotions, and with you being near him most of the time, he’s unsure how to approach you, especially if you’re of the different sex. His heart naturally flutters when you talk, his go-to responses of grunts or silence of listening current. Hands sweat when you nudge his shoulder or accidentally bump into him. To you, he’s a tough nut. But underneath all that, he’s analyzing his emotions better; looking at you with love.

Little by little, it starts with him writing in his journal about you. Descriptions of your characteristics, your likes & dislikes, how you two interact, how close you are to Atreus, and how your habits work; which he describes are quite adorable. This often leads to him stalking you, looking at you when you aren’t paying attention, and reading/and learning your body language like his backhand. It only adds to his adoration towards you, if by chance, you’re a motherly figure to his son.

With this and interacting with him for a long period of time on a daily basis, Kratos, at some point, lowers his guard — especially if Atreus openly says he trusts you.

And just like a snap of fingers, he prioritizes you. Actively looking at you when you aren’t around. Asking the others if he’d seen you; quickly shutting the conversation down if Atreus or Mimir ask what’s with him. Small touches are guaranteed, a hand guiding you on your lower back. Fingers ‘accidentally’ nudging to yours when you’re beside each other. Grabbing you by the waist to help you climb on rocks. Or teaching you factors of hunting that he knows you’ll enjoy doing.

At this point, he’s already attached, far too North. It’s a perfect family, is it not? You aren’t going anywhere without him. He’s fallen for you, quite hard. The rope has snapped, and you’ll be his.

This said, kidnapping is ensured. It’ll start slow at first, Kratos keeping you a bit longer at home so you can get used to it. He often invites you for supper and dinner; making stew, or having deer. He engages with small talk, admiring you and his son. Slowly but surely, he adds things inside the cabin that he knows you’ll like — shelves of books and poems, more blankets, clothes of your liking, and many items of those hobbies of yours. Atreus adds in too, gifting and creating you things with your thoughts in vain.

It is, until, one day, you’re permanently kept into the house. Once you try to leave, your smile goes away as you realize he’s blocking your way to the door — ordering you to sit back down. Depending on your reaction, he’s equally stronger than you are, and already has you sitting down, either with his strength or voice. If he needs to, he will chain you; he’s determined on not losing anybody close to him again.

The mere idea of losing you sends him into a panicked state, to which, he’s forced the option for you to stay here, forever.

Life in Midgard with Kratos is rather isolated — even though he doesn’t mean to. He loves you, and often fears the worst scenarios, which means everywhere you go, even to see an old-friend, he’s there with a possessive grip.

Within the stand of home, Kratos tries to make it cozy, and to your liking; adding things to make sure your ‘stay’ is more comfortable. He adds many blankets to the shared bed as needed to keep you warm, even though he’s a lava himself. Every night, he makes delicious food, and often tells you to retire everything to him as he promises to take care of you.

Affection is hard for him to express — especially with words, so he’s more passionate within his actions. If you two are out in public, he will be touching you one way or another; he has a fear that you’ll leave him, which makes him quite clingy. A hand on your hip, pinky-interlocking-pinky, or if he’s feeling threatened, he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes you into him. If he’s not directly by your side, rest assured that he will be glaring at anyone who approaches you or even looks at you.

In private, it’s worse. He’s practically glued to your side, and if you’re sitting down, you better believe he’s scooching you closer to his body, and making you sit in/or between his lap.

Despite his ‘distant’ and gruff answers, he pays attention to the littlest things and wants to make you happy. Despite his possessiveness, If you mention missing your homeland, Kratos will wake you up early the next morning, take you to fatherland and let you visit for a short period of time; a large hand wrapped around yours the whole time.

Pass-to-conversation that you need more items for your certain hobby? He’s heading down to the trading posts at the butt-of-dawn, actively looking for what you said, and bringing it home with a grunt of, “Here.”

At some point in the future, he’d love to have a bigger family. The thought of having another kid, possibly a daughter, makes his heart flutter and a small smile widen. Though, if you’re of the different sex/or cannot get pregnant, he’s open to adopting or simply just having you and Atreus.

—

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