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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 days ago

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Odysseus Finds Out You His Stunning Wife Killed a Suitor…

(And He’s a Little Too Into It)

A/n: I wrote this on my break, so it is not very good. But I can see the man being turned on by this.

It was supposed to be a normal evening.

The great hall was calm, the children were (miraculously) asleep, and Odysseus was exactly where he wanted to be—beside his beautiful, stunning, absolutely perfect wife.

You sat on your shared bed, brushing your hair, the candlelight making your eyes glow.

Odysseus, ever the devoted husband, was stretched out beside you, watching you with an expression of pure admiration.

And then—you casually dropped a sentence that nearly made him choke.

“Oh, by the way, I killed one of the suitors while you were gone.”

Silence.

Odysseus blinked.

You, completely unbothered, kept brushing your hair.

“You… what?”

You shrugged. “One of them got too close. Tried to take what wasn’t his. Hera gave me one of your arrows, and I made sure he didn’t get back up.”

Odysseus stared.

He should have been angry.

Should have been shocked, furious that you had been forced to do that.

But instead.

Instead, something entirely different sparked in his chest.

Something primal.

Something deeply, deeply appreciative.

He sat up, eyes darkening as he looked at you.

“My wife, the warrior.”

You arched a delicate brow. “You sound a little too pleased by this.”

Odysseus grinned. “How could I not be? My stunning, brilliant wife took a god-given weapon and sent a man to the underworld for touching what was hers?”

He leaned in, voice dropping. “How could I not find that unbearably attractive?”

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping up your neck for a moment. “You are insufferable.”

“And you, my love, are magnificent.”

His hands traced down your arms, slow and deliberate. Your husband enjoying feeling you shiver at his touch.

“Tell me more,” he murmured, lips brushing against your jaw. “Exactly how did you do it?”

You sighed dramatically. “Are you truly getting aroused by the idea of me killing a man?”

Odysseus smirked, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “It’s not my fault my wife is the most dangerous, desirable woman in Ithaca.”

You shook your head, laughing softly. “You are impossible.”

“And you are mine.”

His hands slid lower until you felt him slip under your gown. His fingers ran across your stomach then slowly grasped your breast giving it a squeeze.

“Hera truly blessed me today.” He whispered as his lips trailed across the nape of your neck pulling you close.

You sighed again, your lips twitching as you suppressed a moan from slipping past your lips as Odysseus continue to run his fingers down your stomach.

And by the time the candles burned out, Odysseus had made sure you knew exactly how much he loved his deadly, stunning wife.

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multi-fandom-imagine · 3 days ago

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Odysseus all places he would fuck when 🙏🙏/silly

A/n: Me vibrating with excitement because I have been waiting for this.

Odysseus’ Favorite Places He and His Wife Have Had Sex

(Because Even the Cunning King of Ithaca Has Weaknesses… and His Wife Is the Greatest of Them All.)

From the moment Odysseus took you as his wife, you knew patience would be required. He was a man of sharp wit, endless charm, and the kind of arrogance that came naturally to someone favored by the gods.

But beneath all of that?

He was devoted. Fiercely. Unrelentingly.

To Ithaca. To his people.

And most of all—to you.

And gods help him, he could never keep his hands off you.

1. Your Wedding Night – The First Time He Claimed You As His Own

Odysseus had never believed in fate.

He had always believed in cleverness, in shaping his own destiny, in finding the path no one else could see.

But then he met you.

And suddenly, fate didn’t seem so ridiculous after all.

On the night of your wedding, after the celebration had faded, after the guests had drunk themselves into contented sleep, he had taken your hand and led you to his chambers.

And for the first time—Odysseus, the man who always had a plan, had no idea what he was doing.

Not when it came to you.

Because you were different.

You were his.

And as he undressed you—slowly, reverently, as if he were unwrapping the most sacred of treasures—he realized he had never wanted anything more in his life.

The first time he made love to you, it was slow. Deep. A vow in the form of touch.

Your fingers had tangled in his hair, your breaths had mingled between kisses, and the moment you gasped his name—he was gone.

Gone for you. Gone forever.

And in that moment, he knew—

No matter what war, what storm, what trial the gods threw at him… he would always find his way back to you.

2. The Olive Grove – Where He Learned to Worship You With More Than Words

Odysseus was not a simple man.

But his love for you?

That was simple.

It was in the way he reached for you without thinking. The way he let his fingers drift along your skin, even in the presence of others. The way he always returned to your arms after a long day, as if the weight of ruling Ithaca meant nothing once he was touching you.

And sometimes, his love for you turned into something he could not control.

Like the evening he found you walking alone in the olive groves, your hands skimming the silver-green leaves, your dress flowing around you like some kind of divine vision.

You had turned to him with a teasing smile, eyes full of mischief.

“Are you following me, my love?”

Odysseus had not even bothered to deny it.

You had expected a witty remark. A playful response.

Instead, he had kissed you.

Hard.

You had barely had a moment to gasp before he pressed you against the trunk of an ancient olive tree, his lips tracing the line of your throat, his hands pushing aside the soft fabric of your gown.

“We shouldn’t,” you had whispered breathlessly, but your arms had already wrapped around him, pulling him closer.

Odysseus had laughed against your skin.

“You knew what would happen the moment you smiled at me like that.”

And then he had worshiped you, right there, beneath the trees that had stood for centuries.

The gods had surely been watching.

And Odysseus hadn’t cared, because feeling you come undone by a few thrusts was everything.

3. The Palace Balcony – When He Needed to Prove You Were Still His

Odysseus was not a jealous man.

But he was possessive.

You were his. His wife. His queen. His breath and his heart and his home.

So when a visiting noble looked at you too long, let his compliments drip too sweetly into conversation—

Odysseus had remained calm.

Outwardly.

But later that night, as he pulled you onto the stone balcony that overlooked the sea, his hands gripping your waist with something close to desperation, you had known.

He needed to remind you.

Remind himself.

That you belonged to him as much as he belonged to you.

His kisses had been rougher that night, his hands pulling at your clothes with less patience than usual.

And when he took you—pushed against the balcony railing, the night wind cool against your fevered skin, his name gasped between your parted lips.

He made sure you felt him everywhere.

Made sure you knew that no man could ever touch you the way he did.

The sea had stretched endlessly beyond the cliffs.

But all he had cared about was you.

4. The Battlefield Tent – The Night Before War Took Him Away

War had always been Odysseus’ curse.

He had never wanted it. Never craved it the way Ares did.

But it had come for him anyway.

And the night before he sailed to Troy, before ten years of war would steal him away from you, he had needed you.

Needed to remember the way you felt beneath him, the way your body fit against his, the way you whispered his name like it was both a prayer and a command.

So that night, in the privacy of his tent, with only the flickering oil lamps casting shadows against the canvas—

Odysseus had made love to you like a dying man reaching for his final taste of paradise.

And when it was over, when your fingers traced the muscles of his back, when your lips pressed against his shoulder in silent understanding, he had promised—

“I will return to you.”

Because no war, no gods, no storm could keep him from you.

And he had kept that promise.

Even if it had taken him twenty years to do it.

And his favorite Places you two have had sex after his return home.

(Because After Twenty Years, the King of Ithaca Had A Lot of Time to Make Up For.)

Odysseus had dreamed of this.

For twenty long years.

Through war, through storms, through gods and monsters—he had clung to the memory of you.

But memories had never been enough.

Not when he had spent nights reaching for you, only to find empty air.

Not when he had whispered your name into the wind, hoping the gods would carry it back to you.

But now?

Now, he was home.

And he was never letting you go again.

1. The Marriage Bed – Where He Needed You First

He had built this bed.

With his own hands. With his own sweat. A piece of himself woven into every fiber of it.

And for twenty years, it had remained untouched.

Just as you had.

So it was only fitting that the first place he took you again was the same place he had last held you.

That night, it was slow.

It was gentle.

Not because he did not burn for you, but because he needed to savor it.

Needed to map your body with his hands, his lips, his breath, relearning every curve, every sound, every way you responded to him.

Needed to feel you, flesh and warmth and devotion, to remind himself that this was real.

That he was real.

That he had made it back to you.

You had gasped his name between kisses. Had tangled your fingers into his hair, pulled him closer, as if afraid he would vanish again.

He had whispered promises against your skin—ones that had no need for words.

And when you had come undone beneath him, when your breath had hitched and your body had trembled

He had followed, his hands gripping your waist, his forehead pressing against yours as if grounding himself in the very thing he had fought for.

You.

Always you.

He may have been covered in blood but that did not matter to you because your husband was home.

2. The Throne Room – Where He Took You as His Queen

The suitors were dead.

Their blood had been washed away. Their bodies dragged from the palace.

And yet—Odysseus still felt their presence.

Still felt their lingering trespass in his home, in the halls that had belonged to him and him alone.

Most of all, they had dared to exist near you.

And that?

That, he could not abide.

So as you stood in the throne room that evening, watching the last traces of war fade from your home, he came to you.

“You are mine,” he murmured against your ear, voice dark, rough, full of something deep and primal.

You shivered beneath his touch, but you did not stop him.

Because you understood.

Odysseus had reclaimed his throne. Now, he needed to reclaim you.

There, against the very seat of his power—he pressed you against the throne and took you as his queen.

It was not gentle.

It was not patient.

It was desperate, possessive, a silent declaration that you belonged to no one else.

That no man—mortal or god—could ever take you from him.

Your nails raked down his back. Your lips bruised against his.

And when he finally collapsed against you, breath ragged, his arms trembling around you—

He knew.

He had conquered many things.

But you would always be his greatest victory.

3. The Shoreline – Where He Marked You Beneath the Stars

The sea had tried to keep him from you.

For ten years, Poseidon had raged, had thrown him to the mercy of the tides, had cursed him with loss after loss.

So Odysseus found it only fitting that he take you beneath the very stars that had guided him home.

You had been walking along the shoreline, barefoot, your dress flowing around you in the wind, looking like something out of a dream.

Odysseus had been watching.

Always watching.

He had waited long enough.

He had come up behind you, his hands sliding along your waist, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

And when you had leaned into him, sighing softly—

That was it.

He had guided you down onto the soft sand, his body covering yours, his mouth sealing away whatever protest you might have given.

And there, beneath the endless sky, with the waves lapping at the shore—

He made love to you.

Your back against the earth, his hands gripping your thighs, your hips, keeping you steady as he drove into you.

The rhythm of the ocean matching the rhythm of his thrusts—

The sea could have raged. The gods could have watched.

Slow at first, teasing, making you beg—

And then faster, rougher, until all you could do was cry out his name.

And when it was over, when your bodies were spent, tangled together in the warm sand—

Odysseus didn’t care.

Because for the first time in twenty years, he was exactly where he was meant to be.

With you

He had kissed your forehead, chuckling softly, murmuring, “I should bring you here more often.”

And he had..

4. The Olive Grove – Where He Worshiped You Again

Odysseus had taken you here before.

Years ago, before war and fate had stolen him away, he had pressed you against these very trees, whispered filthy promises against your skin, laughed as he undid you beneath the cover of green leaves.

It was only fair that he do it again.

Only this time—it was different.

Because now, there was no guarantee of tomorrow.

Now, he knew what it was to lose you.

So when he took you there again, it was reverent.

It was not rushed.

It was Odysseus, pressing worship into your skin, hands memorizing every inch of you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.

He had groaned your name against your throat, had kissed you until your knees buckled, had held you up as he sank into you, slow and deep and unyielding.

And when you had whispered his name, breathless, undone.

He had answered with a vow.

“I will never leave you again.”

5:The Throne Room (again) Because He Likes to Remind You That He Is King

Odysseus is a man of power, a man of command.

And some nights, he enjoys reminding you exactly who he is.

The first time had been unplanned.

You had been sitting on his throne, draped in his cloak, waiting for him.

When he walked in, his gaze darkened instantly.

“You look far too comfortable there,” he had murmured, stepping closer, his voice rich with heat and something dangerous.

And before you could tease him back, before you could move.

He was on you.

His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling you forward, making you gasp.

His mouth was hot against your neck, against your collarbone, against the swell of your breasts—

And then, he was inside you, pressing you down into the throne, moving deep and unrelenting.

His lips brushed your ear, whispering, “You may sit upon my throne, but I will always rule you.”

And the moment you moaned at his words, tightening around him, trembling beneath him—

He had growled in approval, claiming you again and again.

Afterward, when you were panting against his chest, your body boneless, your lips swollen, tremors still hitting you.

He had leaned back, smirking. “Perhaps I should let you sit on my throne more often."

6. The Bedchamber – Where He Loved You As a Husband, Not a King

Odysseus was a king.

A warrior. A tactician. A man who had fought against fate and won.

But here, in your arms, he was none of those things.

He was just a man.

Just yours.

This was the last place.

The one that mattered most.

Because here, it was not about reclaiming or proving or marking.

It was just about loving.

And gods, he loved you.

So when he pulled you into his arms that night, pressing you into the softest of linens, tangling himself with you beneath the warm glow of the fire—

He didn’t rush.

Didn’t devour.

Didn’t conquer.

He just loved you.

For every night he had missed.

For every kiss he had been denied.

For every whispered promise he had wanted to give but couldn’t.

And when he finally collapsed beside you, arms still wrapped around you, your heartbeat steady against his chest.

For the first time in twenty years, Odysseus felt at peace.

Because he was finally, finally home.

#drabbles #drabble #imagines #odysseus #odysseus x reader #epic #epic the musical #odysseus epic #odysseus etm #etm #etm x reader #epic odysseus #epic x reader #epic x you #greek mythology #greek mythology x reader #epic odysseus x reader

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