FanFiction: Fruits of Love (Ares / Aphrodite, Hades Game)

Ares and Aphrodite original artwork from Supergiant's Hades Game
Ares and Aphrodite from Supergiant's Hades game.

Hello my lovelies,

this is from a gift exchange where I received a story prompt, so I wrote a fanfic about Ares and Aphrodite from the Hades Game. The prompt was Ares / Aphrodite plus something sweet with their kids Eros, Phobos, Deimos, and Harmonia.

The person receiving the gift was very happy with it so I hope you will be too. 🥰

Fruits of Love

Aphrodite watched Ares with their sons Phobos and Deimos. They were so very much their father's boys. Aphrodite had convinced Hephaestus to give them into the foster care of the war god and it wouldn't take long until she would ask him to make them armour and swords and spears of their own. She wasn't sure if her husband truly believed them to be his sons in the same way he had believed to have sired Eros and Harmonia. But Aphrodite kept up the appearance all the same. Love and harmony, those were clearly children born of her domain. It made sense that they would inherit some of her powers. Fear and terror, though... they were not the first things coming to mind when one thought of love. Nor craftsmanship. Aphrodite brushed her long, pink hair with violent strokes. All of her children represented strong feelings. Who was Hephaestus to tell her they didn't belong to her domain?!

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Ares took away the short, mud-caked training swords from his sons. Play-time was over.

"Go wash yourselves so your mother shall be pleased with me," he told them, giving Aphrodite a longing look through the window. Eros was clinging to her, always the mother's boy. Harmonia came outside with a golden bowl and a jug. Had they been on the battlefield, Ares would have taken a full bath. But a little dirt would wash away easily. He snatched Deimos by the neck as he tried to sneak into the house and guided him towards his sister.

"I said wash yourselves," he said firmly. "You too, Phobos."

Oh, how he loved his children. Not only were they the fruits of his love for golden Aphrodite, not only did they resemble her in the most beautiful ways, no, all of them had his fighting spirit, all of them. They were also truly interested in his fiercest passion -- the art of war. Even Harmonia, whom Aphrodite often praised to be destined to still his blood-stained hand and bring peace, was fascinated with his violent ways, wishing to see the conflicts of the mortals for herself. He took the cloth offered by Harmonia and washed the face of little Deimos who struggled against his grip in vain. Phobos splashed him with some water from the bowl.

"Leave your brother to me and clean yourself," Ares told him, "Or I shall dunk you into the soot of Hephaestus' forge."

Phobos was always more easily scared than Deimos. When he had first taken them away from Aphrodite as his wards, Phobos had been frightened and scared and so Ares had comforted him in his arms and promised he would be safe with him. In that moment, there had been nothing in the world that he wanted more than to kiss him and tell him that he was his real father, not Hephaestus, that he would fight for him always, even if it sent him to the deepest pit of Hades. But he would never risk Aphrodite's reputation like that. So instead, he had rocked him gently and threatened anyone who would even think of harming his wards. "Soon," he had said, "You'll be a strong warrior yourself."

Neither of them was. Not yet. Deimos lacked discipline and Phobos courage. But they were still boys. His boys. Ares cleaned Deimos' grubby little hands. He'd make excellent fighters of them, eventually. Fellow students of Death. Phobos held up his hands for Ares to inspect.

"All clean!" he announced.

"Good boy." Ares patted his messy mop of hair. "Now let's go inside and have lunch with your mother."

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Aphrodite gazed at her golden plate, scooping up some ambrosia with her equally golden spoon. She wanted Ares so badly she barely dared looking at him. The conversation dragged awkwardly and she was glad that she had Eros on her lap. His wings fluttered against her bosoms, tickling her.

"Your sons are a pride and joy." Ares said stiffly. What he meant to say, was that their sons were his pride and joy. Aphrodite sighed.

"They are. But I love my dear daughter too." As if she had to remind him of their firstborn. But he was fostering only Phobos and Deimos. Giving Harmonia into his care was not an option. Nor something Aphrodite wanted to do. She loved having her daughter close. And there was no chance that Hephaestus would take her to the forge or anything he might have tried to do with Phobos and Deimos.

"Of course."

Ares took a sip of his wine. He had never been the most eloquent god. But this was slower than molasses.

"Can we go play?" asked Deimos. "I'm bored."

"Are you sure you're not hungry any more?" Aphrodite asked sweetly. Oh, how she had awaited this moment!

Deimos shook his head violently.


"Me neither," Phobos added, a little softer.

"Harmonia, look after your brothers, will you?"

Harmonia got up from the table with a poise that made Aphrodite's heart swell with pride.

"I'll take them to the garden," she announced. Good. It was safe and reasonably far away from the house.

"Don't disturb the plants. Unless you want to incur the wrath of Demeter."

An expression of horror chased over the faces of her children.

"No. No, of course not," Harmonia stammered.

"Never!" claimed Deimos.

"Last time was an accident," Phobos mumbled.

"Then make sure it doesn't repeat itself. You may go."

Aphrodite sent one of the Graces to follow the children in case they DID get in trouble and dismissed the rest of her retinue. Ares got up.

"I should leave too," he said formally.

"No way!"

Aphrodite blocked his path.

"Not before you have seen to MY needs as well!"

"I was going to watch our children. I'm their guardian. Doesn't this please you, my love?"

Aphrodite traced the way from his wrists up his thick biceps.

"I know that you are a devoted father. I see it almost every day. But what about MY needs? I haven't stopped desiring you, not after the first child and not after the fourth. I want you." She gave him a fiery look. "I want you and I'm not letting this opportunity slide. You are not leaving without a good shag, Lord Ares!"

Ares nodded.

"I see."

"It's as simple as that."

Aphrodite loosened her girdle and undid the seashell brooches that had held her dress. With a seductive smirk she removed the fine cloth around her breasts as well until her bosoms fell free, her nipples as rosy as her hair. She was fully nude. Only her long hair covered up some parts of her beautiful body. Ares watched with blazing eyes, his mouth agape. He should be as as eager as she was. She snaked a hand underneath the leather strips of his armour, feeling up his strong, muscular thigh.

"You are no going to make me do all the work of undressing you," she told him.

"No, dear Lady Aphrodite," he replied in his calm, collected voice.

His eyes were devouring her, taking in every inch of her. Oh, it felt good, that longing gaze. But she wanted more than his smouldering red eyes.

"Take off your clothes. One by one."

She sat down, her hand finding its way to her crotch. Ares stood there, a little stiff. An erotic presentation of his body did not seem like a skill he had honed.

"One by one," Aphrodite repeated. "Start with the weapons."

Ares wordlessly ungirded his sword, then took off his long, crimson cape.

"Go on." Aphrodite opened her legs for him, let him see her pleasuring herself plainly. It would drive anyone mad with lust. "Let me see your gleaming chest."

He tore his gaze away from her and opened the cuirass that armoured his torso against swords and spears and arrows in the heat of battle. The bone-white breast plate came off and he carefully put it aside, along with the backplate, standing before her in the simple white chiton that protected him from the chafe of the metal. Heavy leather straps fell over his thighs in white and gold.

"Need a hand with the last bit, handsome?"

"No." He untied the chiton, finally exposing his wide chest. It had the same white war paint over his breasts as his face, the nipples coloured a dark, bloody red. Aphrodite ran a tongue over her lips.

"You dressed up for me. I like it."

"I wouldn't dream of acting otherwise, my love."

He finally loosened the leather skirt too, letting it fall to the floor. Aphrodite sighed. What a handsome god he was. Her juices swelled with anticipation and she removed her hand to give him the full view of her womanhood.

"Come and take it, soldier."

He approached with firm steps, bending down to kiss her.

"I have longed for this, my love," he said in a low voice as if he had fear of being overheard. "Every day and night I spent apart from you I have dreamed of the moment I would have you in my arms again."

"And so have I." Aphrodite wrapped her legs around his waist. "Now stop longing and start pounding."

He gave her a smirk as if he had just killed someone.

"No thought is dearer to me right now."

He gripped her soft thighs, roughly repositioning them so he could slide in his dark cock, hard as iron. Aphrodite moaned. Oh, how she had missed him, how she had missed feeling him so close! His taste on her lips, his skin on her skin, his spear in her furnace...

"Dee-deeper...," she breathed. His red eyes gleamed as he pushed himself into her, complying with her request. He was hot and hard and pulsating with ichor, the blood of the divine. No god had ever excited her as much as he did. Not her husband and not even Zeus who had pursued her after she had first set foot on Cyprus. No, her own heart sang only for Ares and their passion for one another was quite evenly matched. She wrapped her arms around him.

"Lift me."

He did, almost effortlessly. Instead of bending over her, he was holding her in his arms, fucking her standing up. Aphrodite loved this display of his strength, loved how his muscles strained under her tender fingers, how safely he held her. He would rather break his back than let her fall, she was certain of it.

"My dearest, how fiercely you love me!" she praised him, "Never stop, for as long as our hearts dance for one another."

"My heart will burn for you as eternally as your rose, my love."

His words touched her so much that she blushed.

"Such poetic words from you, dearest? How come?"

He pushed her upward, kissing her breasts.

"I simply wish to express my unending affection for you, my love."

Aphrodite held on tightly to him, pressing her mound against his abdomen.

"And you did so beautifully." She exhaled noisily. The white trail of his pubic hair rubbed against her depilated vulva. Oh by snowy Olympus, he was gorgeous! Her muscles clenched around him, drawing a low grunt from his throat that tingled her with delight.

"Harder!" she demanded, "You know better than to come before I do, don't you, dearest?"

He nodded and his large hands closed tightly around her arse and thighs, a firm grip for the ride that followed. She saw his gritted teeth and dark determination. He would not spill before she said the word, even though he pounded her like a battering ram, making her cry out in pleasure as she gave herself over to her domain to the fullest. She would only release him after he had given her a climax. But she had not the faintest of doubts that he would.

"Give it to me, sweetest." Her eyes glowed with desire. Every one of his hard, deep thrusts pushed her closer and closer towards completion, his ragged breath and lustful noises music in her ears. "Give me all you've got."

That made him go all out. Her arse cheeks smacked against his skin, her tits bouncing from the exercise. Oh by the power of desire! Her body clenched and released in a fountain of pleasure, crying Ares' name over and over. He visibly struggled not to spill but Aphrodite was too caught up in her own climax to pay it any mind. When her pleasure had ebbed down, she noticed the sweat on his brow, the taut muscles, the strain on his face. The fulfilment of desire still coursing through her veins she bent forward to tell him in a sensual whisper:

"You may come."

Relief glowed on his features when he picked up the pace, thrust into her once, twice... and spilled, hot seed shooting up her passage like a river in Spring. He held her in his embrace, kissing her all over, his rough, warm lips so good against her skin. She felt his seed run down their bodies, still joined in love, and saw it drip on the floor.

"I'll have it cleaned up," she said, caressing his cheek. "Don't worry, I'll make sure he won't find out."

Ares rested his chin on her shoulder.

"To the Styx with your husband!"

"We will find a way to deal with him." Aphrodite gave him a kiss. "But for now, let us not think of him any further. Not when you may just have sired our fifth child."


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