Chapter 1: Dark cathedrals.
Chapter Text
Odysseus moved down the deserted beach, every step carrying him closer to the pull of the tide. He still heard the echo of Poseidon’s voice from their last clash—words half-snarl, half-confession: “I don’t accept what you’ve done to my son. But it would be nothing short of a lie if I were to not find your ruthlessness… enticing.” The sea split open, and Poseidon emerged in a surge of foam and fury, eyes catching the moonlight like sharpened blades. “You haven’t softened,” Poseidon said, circling him, his tone dripping disdain. “Still brutal. Still merciless. A monster.” He spat the word like poison, yet lingered on it too long, as if savoring the taste. He stepped closer, voice low and tense. “It sickens me how easily you unmake everything you touch.” His lip curled in something too close to a smile. “And still I find myself here. Wanting to see how far your cruelty can reach. How deep it can cut.”
Poseidon’s gaze raked over him, the faintest tremor of hunger behind the loathing. “You thrive on destruction, Odysseus. And I…” He faltered, then forced the venom back into his voice. “I am cursed enough to deal with it, monster.” Odysseus’ mouth curled, half-snarl, half-smirk. He stepped closer, so close the salt air between them turned heavy. “Cursed?” His voice cut sharp as a blade. “Don’t dress it up as fate. You came crawling to me, god. You wanted the monster you named me. Don’t pretend otherwise.” Poseidon’s eyes flared, rage and hunger colliding. “You mistake loathing for desire.”
“And you mistake desire for loathing,” Odysseus shot back, teeth bared in something too dark to be a smile. He leaned nearer, his tone dropping into a low, predatory growl. “You call me a monster because it excites you. Because you want to see if I’ll devour you whole.” Poseidon hissed, as though the words burned — but he didn’t step back. Infact, he smirked, amused at the way his monster boldly spoke to him.
Odysseus chuckled, humorless and sharp. “You hate me, sea god? Good. Hate makes you honest. And I like you best when you’re honest enough to suffer.” Standing over three heads taller than the man in front of him, Poseidon placed a clawed hand into his hair. Not gentle, nothing like a lover's embrace, no. He yanked hard, the mortal's feet almost off the ground. “Mm, monster, you like to see me suffer? You spoil me.” He gushed, a sickening grin crossing his features. “I have better questions at hand, though. Little king, did you do as I asked?” He dropped Odysseus, uncaring if he landed on his feet or ass. Odysseus groaned, having done the latter. “Was it necessary to drop me?”
“Answer the question, monster.”
“Yes,” Odysseus spat, brushing himself off. Poseidon’s eyes narrowed, a glimmer sparking in their depths. “Tell me—how did you kill them?” Odysseus’ smirk was sharp, cruel. He straightened to his full height, as if daring Poseidon to call his bluff. “The first? I broke his jaw with my heel before he could scream. Then I opened him up from gut to throat, slow enough that he drowned in his own blood.” Poseidon hummed, low and pleased, though his face stayed blank. Odysseus’ grin widened. “The second, I strangled with my bare hands. Watched the color drain from his face, his nails tearing his own throat raw as he clawed for breath. I didn’t let go. Not until he hung limp like a gutted fish.”
A tremor shivered through Poseidon’s fingers, betraying his composure. “And the third,” Odysseus leaned in, voice dripping venom, “I carved him apart piece by piece. I wanted him to know he was dying. I made him beg for mercy he’d never get.” For a moment, the waves themselves seemed to hush. Then Poseidon laughed—low, rich, delighted. His hand shot out, yanking Odysseus against him so fast the mortal nearly lost his dagger, one that the mortal carried with him everywhere. “You’re so fucking hot,” Poseidon breathed against his ear, claws tracing the small of his back.
Odysseus snarled, shoving him off and slamming the dagger to Poseidon’s throat. “Try that again, and I’ll slit you open. Make you choke on your own ichor.” Poseidon tilted his head into the blade, grinning wider. “Do it, monster. Hurt me. Every cut will only make me want you more.” Odysseus pressed harder, his new fins flaring. “I’ll cut you into pieces.”
“And I’ll still devour you whole,” Poseidon purred, his hand clamping possessively around Odysseus’ waist. Odysseus’ dagger was still pressed to Poseidon’s throat, his eyes narrow, breath hot. Poseidon’s grin only widened, the edge of his teeth catching the moonlight.
“You hate me,” Poseidon purred. “I can taste it every time you spit my name. But hate makes desire sweeter. I want that hate, mortal. I want it poured into me.” His clawed hand rested heavy on Odysseus’ waist, not pinning, not hurting—just holding him there, making it clear Odysseus would move only if he allowed it. Odysseus’ jaw clenched. “You want too much.”
“I want exactly what you are,” Poseidon replied, voice a low growl. “Your cruelty. Your bite. Your defiance. I don’t want a lover’s gentleness—I want the monster who threatened to slit my throat.” His eyes flared brighter. “I want that monster to ruin me.”
Odysseus said nothing, his grip tight on the dagger. Finally, he hissed, “I’m no god. I have a wife.” Poseidon chuckled darkly. “And I have a wife too. Do you think Amphitrite doesn’t know? She knows me better than anyone.” He leaned in, lips ghosting over Odysseus’ ear. “She already gave her blessing. I would not step into your bed unless Penelope gave hers.”
Odysseus froze at that, pulling back just enough to search Poseidon’s face. He wanted to laugh, to snarl, but the god’s eyes were steady, deadly serious beneath the grin. “You would wait for her word?” Odysseus asked, disbelief lacing his voice. “I will,” Poseidon promised, his hand tightening on Odysseus’ side just enough to make him draw breath. “Because I want you. And I want it clean, with no shadow between you and the woman who keeps your hearth.” His grin returned, sharp and unholy. “Then, if she says yes… I’ll let you cut me open with your hate.”
Odysseus shoved him back with a growl, but his hand shook on the dagger. Poseidon only laughed, delighted, even as ichorless skin pressed against bronze. “My monster,” Poseidon whispered. “You can’t escape me. Not when you already crave the fight as much as I do.” The latter scoffed, turning on his heel. He shot the God one last glance, holding up the dagger as it gleamed in Selene’s light. “If she says yes, I'll make sure to make you bleed.” The man watched in disgust as Poseidon simply beamed. Poseidon’s grin lingered, though his eyes sharpened with intent. His claws flexed once against Odysseus’ waist before releasing him.
“Then here’s what will happen,” the god said, voice low and commanding. “If your wife gives her blessing, meet me at my temple. I will wait for you.” He leaned in close, lips brushing Odysseus’ ear. “And when you come, I will have you as my monster.” Before Odysseus could reply, the god stepped back. Salt spray whipped up around him as the sea surged, swallowing his form in a rolling wave. In an instant, he was gone—leaving only the stench of brine and the echo of his laughter.
Odysseus stood alone on the ruined deck, dagger still clutched tight, heart hammering. He cursed under his breath, sheathing the blade, and turned for home.
.....
The hearth-fire burned low, throwing long shadows on the walls as Odysseus entered. Penelope did not look surprised to see him salt-soaked and grim, as if she had been waiting all along. “Poseidon?” she asked simply. Odysseus gave a humorless laugh. “Always Poseidon.” He hesitated, then said, “He wants me at his temple.” Her brows arched. “Another sacrifice?” Odysseus swallowed, then shook his head. “Not of oxen. Not of men. Me.”
Penelope’s hands stilled on her loom. “You.”
“Yes,” he spat, pacing. “He calls me his monster. He says he wants my cruelty, my hate. He—” Odysseus broke off, dragging a hand through his hair. “He says he wants me to ruin him.” For a long silence, Penelope only studied him. Her eyes were sharp, unflinching. Then she said, calm as a tide, “You’ve slit throats for him before. Drowned ships in his name. Brought him blood when he demanded it.” Her gaze softened just slightly. “This is no different, is it? Only now the offering is yourself.” Odysseus froze, staring at her. Penelope stepped closer, resting a hand against his chest. “If this is what keeps his wrath from our house, then do it. If it feeds the god’s hunger, then let him take it.” Her thumb brushed his jaw, her voice lowering. “But tell me the truth, Odysseus—doesn’t some part of you want it too?”
Odysseus’ breath caught. Poseidon’s words echoed in his mind: Meet me at my temple. Penelope’s hand lingered against his cheek. “You’ve already given him blood,” she whispered. “Give him this, if it will keep him sated. I will not stand in your way.”
The temple stood silent in the dark, its columns silvered by moonlight. No torches burned, no priests kept vigil; Poseidon had seen to that. Inside, the air was damp, heavy with the scent of salt. At the temple’s heart stretched a vast pool of black water, its surface glass-still under the flicker of oil lamps. Odysseus’ boots echoed against the marble as he entered, dagger still at his hip though he knew it would do nothing.
“You came.” The voice rolled from the water, deep as the sea trenches. Ripples spread across the pool as Poseidon rose from its depths, towering, water cascading from his form. His eyes gleamed, catching the lamplight like predator’s fire. Odysseus’ hand rested on his dagger. “Penelope gave her blessing.” His tone was flat, but his jaw clenched, betraying unease.
“Good,” Poseidon rumbled, stepping onto the marble. Bare feet left wet prints across the floor as he advanced. “I told you I would not touch you without her word. I meant it.”
“Touch me and I’ll slit your throat.” Odysseus gripped his dagger tighter, his voice low and sharp. Poseidon’s grin split wide. “Yes. Threaten me. I like you best when you bare your teeth.” Odysseus spat, “You’re insane.”
“And you’re mine,” Poseidon shot back, closing the distance in a single step. His clawed hand seized Odysseus’ chin, tilting his face upward with bruising force. “You think I don’t see how you look at me, mortal? With loathing, yes, but with fire. With hunger. You hate me enough to kill me if you could—” his lips brushed Odysseus’ ear, his voice dropping to a growl—“and that hate will ruin you.”
Odysseus growled, trying to wrench free, but Poseidon only dragged him closer, pressing him back until his heels touched the edge of the pool. The dark water lapped at the marble. “You killed three men for me,” Poseidon whispered. “Tell me again how you did it. Feed me your hate, Odysseus.”
Odysseus’ nostrils flared. “I snapped one’s jaw with my boot before I slit him from gut to throat.” He spat the words like venom, glaring up at the god. “The second I strangled until he twitched himself to death. And the third—” He shoved his face closer, nearly nose to nose. “I carved apart until he begged.” Poseidon’s breath hitched, his grip tightening. “Yes. My monster.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“And you’re beautiful when you hate me,” Poseidon snarled, and with a sudden yank, he pulled Odysseus down into the pool. The water swallowed them both, dark and endless, Poseidon’s laugh bubbling low and delighted as Odysseus’ dagger flashed silver between them.
The temple was silent except for the lapping of water in the pool. Poseidon stood, tall and dripping, his hair long and dark as kelp. Odysseus stood opposite him, dagger sheathed but hand resting on the hilt. His hair ruffles, due to being dragged into the dark pool.
“We’ll make this clear,” Poseidon said, voice even, but with that low growl always beneath. “I will not be treated like glass. I do not want your pity, nor your softness. If you touch me, it will not be with the hands of a nurse.” His eyes narrowed, almost daring Odysseus. “And you will not touch my hair. Or my face. Those are mine.” Odysseus let out a short breath, a bitter half-laugh. “Fine. And you will not command me.” He jabbed a finger at the god’s chest, defiant even though he had to tilt his head back. “I command. I obey no one. And you—” His jaw tightened. “You do not put your hands on my throat. I will not be choked.”
Poseidon’s lips curved. “Agreed.”
They stood there, silent, both unwilling to be the first to break eye contact. Finally, Odysseus tilted his head, voice sharp. “One question, before we go further.” Poseidon’s brows arched. “Do you receive, or do you take? Do you seek pleasure, or pain?” Odysseus’ voice was like flint, each word deliberate, cutting. Poseidon’s smile widened, slow and cruel. “It’s all the same to me. Receiving or taking, pleasure or pain.” He leaned down until their foreheads nearly touched, his breath hot against Odysseus’ cheek. “I want it all. And I want it from you.”
Odysseus’ mouth twisted. “You’re sick.”
“And you’re already here.” Poseidon’s voice dropped to a murmur. “Penelope gave her blessing. You killed three men in my name. You hate me, Odysseus, but you’re mine all the same.” Odysseus shoved him back a step, teeth bared. “Don’t mistake my hate for loyalty.” Poseidon laughed low, unshaken. “Hate tastes better.”
Poseidon lay half upon the edge of the stone pool, his torso stretched across cold marble, legs still drifting in the dark water. His hair spilled wet over the stone like seaweed, chest heaving with anticipation. Odysseus stood over him, dagger in hand, the point catching in the torchlight. He pressed the blade to the god’s sternum and dragged it down in a shallow cut, parting immortal skin. Instead of red, liquid gold welled to the surface, running in slow rivulets over his chest. Poseidon hissed, back arching, not in pain but in something unholy.
“You don’t flinch,” Odysseus muttered, voice edged with disdain. Poseidon’s lips split into a grin, feral and bright. “You call that cutting? My storms bite sharper.” Odysseus’ jaw tightened. Without warning, he shifted his weight and plunged the dagger just above Poseidon’s v-line. Golden ichor burst forth in a gleaming spill, staining the marble like molten sunlight. Poseidon cried out, a ragged, guttural sound. His hand shot forward, seizing Odysseus’ wrist—not to pull him away, but to hold him there. The dagger trembled in the wound, pressed deeper by Poseidon’s own grip.
“Yes,” the sea god groaned, head tipping back against the stone. “There. There, monster. That’s what I want.” His grin widened as golden ichor dripped over his sides, pooling at the water’s edge. Odysseus loomed over him, staring down at the glowing blood with revulsion and a terrible pull of fascination. “You really are sick,” he spat. Poseidon’s eyes burned, molten gold to match his ichor. “And you’re the only one ruthless enough to keep me fed.”
Odysseus held Poseidon down with one hand braced against his chest, the dagger still buried above the god’s hip. For a long heartbeat he only stared at the gold spilling out, its metallic sheen glowing faintly against the torchlight. Then, in a move that shocked even himself, Odysseus yanked the blade free. The wound seeped thick ichor, running like molten honey across the ridges of Poseidon’s abdomen.
Before he could question the impulse, Odysseus leaned down. His lips pressed against the golden line, tongue flicking out to taste. At first—nothing. No bitterness, no heat, only the strange richness of nectar on his tongue. But then a wave coursed through him, sharp as lightning and heavy as ocean swell. His body jolted, vision narrowing, heart hammering against his ribs. He tasted smoke and honey, salt and storm—like drinking the sea itself in a single mouthful.
Poseidon moaned, low and drawn out, hand clutching hard at the back of Odysseus’ neck. “Ohhh… yes. That’s it. Drink me.” His voice trembled on the edge of ecstasy, reverent and raw. Odysseus pulled back with ichor staining his mouth, panting, wide-eyed. “What… what did you do to me?” His voice cracked, part fury, part awe.
Poseidon only grinned, golden ichor still sliding down his body. “Nothing I didn’t give you, monster.” Odysseus wiped the back of his mouth, golden streaks smearing across his skin. His eyes burned, fixed on Poseidon sprawled half in the water, chest rising and falling, ichor flowing in molten rivulets.
Without a word, Odysseus dragged the blade lower, carving another shallow line across Poseidon’s ribs. Another cry, deep and guttural, burst from the god’s throat. The ichor welled up, spilling like precious wine. “You bleed too beautifully,” Odysseus muttered darkly, leaning down to lap it up, slower this time, savoring. His tongue followed the trail up Poseidon’s chest before he finally pulled back, wiping his chin with his thumb. Poseidon’s claws scraped at the stone edge beneath him, legs twitching in the water. “You’ll ruin me, monster,” he groaned, a grin splitting his face even through the trembling. “Say the word, and I’ll take you apart.”
Odysseus pressed the dagger flat against Poseidon’s stomach, just above the stab wound, applying pressure without piercing again. His gaze sharpened, commanding. “You’ll have your chance, god. I’ll give you the opportunity to have me first—in me, if that’s what you crave.” His voice was low, thick with promise and warning both. “But not tonight. Tonight you bleed. Tonight we stick to this.” He dragged the blade up Poseidon’s chest once more, not stabbing, only tracing, a cruel caress of steel. “Do you understand me?”
Poseidon’s laugh was ragged, breaking into a hiss as the blade scraped higher. “Yes,” he breathed. “But you’re playing with the tide, Odysseus. The sea always takes what it’s owed.” Odysseus licked the last of the ichor from his lips, savoring it like a rare vintage. His eyes flicked over Poseidon’s body—broad chest, the golden liquid running in rivulets over hard muscle, the trembling at every cut. His voice dropped low, almost a growl.
“You taste… better than any sacrifice I’ve ever laid on your altar,” he murmured, the dagger dragging slow circles above the wound. “Rich. Sweet. Like smoked honey. Almost makes me wonder…” His gaze sharpened, hungry. “How you’d taste piece by piece.” Poseidon froze. His breath caught sharply in his throat, pupils dilating as the words sank in. He should have been insulted—enraged—but instead a shudder ripped through him, a sound escaping his lips that was closer to a moan than a protest.
Odysseus leaned down, teeth grazing Poseidon’s collarbone without biting, his words hot against his skin. “Imagine it. I could carve you open… slow… savor every bite of you. An immortal feast, bleeding gold down my throat until you’re nothing but bones at the bottom of your own sea.” A trembling laugh spilled from Poseidon, guttural and breathless. “Monster…” His claws tightened around Odysseus’ wrist, not pulling him away, but grounding himself in the storm of it. “You mean to devour me? To eat your god whole?”
Odysseus smirked, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, dagger still teasing over his ribs. “Don’t tempt me. You’re already halfway mine.”
Poseidon’s chest rose sharply, a blush of ichor blooming where the blade pressed. “By the depths,” he hissed, voice quivering with both fear and heat, “you’re serious. And I—” His grin split wicked and wild, head falling back against the stone. “—I’ve never wanted anyone more.”
Chapter 2: Carnivorous and Lusting.
Summary:
They're in the fucking building again.
Notes:
I am not good at follow up chapters, so if it's shit I apologize in advance.
Poseidon fucks the Odysseus:P
Chapter Text
Odysseus should have been at peace. His bed was warm, his wife was near, her breath steady against his chest. But no matter how he tried to will his body into rest, his mind dragged him back—back to the temple, back to Poseidon’s voice ringing in his skull.
“Do it again. Bleed me. Taste me.” Not a request. A command. And Odysseus hated that. Hated more that his body had obeyed, that even now, his hands twitched as if to grip a dagger, to plunge, to tear. His mouth watered. He remembered the ichor, golden and thick on his tongue, remembered how Poseidon had seized his wrist, not to stop him but to hold him there, force him to take more.
Beside him, Penelope stirred faintly, but only to shift closer, unbothered as ever by his late-night offerings, his rituals, the strange bond he had carved with the god of the sea. She trusted him, perhaps more than he deserved.
But Odysseus could not trust himself.
Because all he could think of—staring at the ceiling in the dark—was how Poseidon had writhed for him, laughed for him, begged and dared him in the same breath. How easily Odysseus could have carved him apart, piece by piece. How much he wanted to. He cursed, steadily crawling out of the bed as to not disturb Penelope. He exited the room with his sword in hand, dagger on his side, in a simple linen chiton and his cloak.
The walk to the beach was a dread. Waves licked at his ankles as Odysseus stood on the moonlit shore, his cloak heavy with salt and dread. He should have stayed in bed, wrapped in the warmth of Penelope’s arms. But Poseidon’s voice still clawed through his skull, dragging him back like a hooked fish.
Odysseus exhaled, bitter as the brine filling his lungs. He lowered himself to one knee, letting the surf bite against his skin. “Poseidon,” he muttered, almost spitting the name. “Grant me the grace of seeing you again. Grant me the grace to bleed you… to hurt you.” His hands curled into fists in the sand, knuckles white. “And grant me the strength to endure the curse you’ve made of me. Because I cannot—” His voice cracked, more from fury than grief. “—I cannot stop craving you.”
The tide swelled, as though the sea itself leaned closer to listen. But no god rose from the surf. Odysseus waited. The waves hissed and broke, rushing past his knees, soaking his cloak. The cold gnawed at his skin, but Poseidon did not come. He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding. “Do you mock me now?” he demanded of the black horizon. “You begged for this. You commanded me—” the word burned in his throat, “—and now you leave me kneeling in the dirt like some forgotten supplicant?”
Still, only the water answered. A shiver tore down his spine. Anger and shame churned in his belly, twisted with something darker, fouler: want. He hated that he wanted the sea to split open and drag him under, to feel those claws again, to taste that gold. Odysseus bowed his head, salt running down his lips that may have been sea spray or tears. His voice came quieter, hoarser, the fury cracking into hunger. “Please,” he whispered to the tide. “If you will not grant me peace, then grant me pain. Show yourself. Let me taste you.”
The ocean stayed silent—yet the waves dragged higher, hungrily tugging him deeper into the surf. Not calm—never calm—but tense, like a beast crouched low, waiting. Then the waves split, and out of the black surf rose the god himself, crowned in foam and fury. Poseidon’s eyes gleamed, cruel and knowing. His voice rumbled with the tide, sharp as broken coral.
“Look at you,” he said, striding from the waves, water dripping from his hair-like rivulets of molten gold. “Odysseus, king of Ithaca, breaker of Troy—bent on your knees at my shore, begging me for a taste.” Odysseus’ teeth clenched, heat burning his face. “I did not beg.”
“You pleaded.” Poseidon laughed, low and dark, the sound rolling like thunder across the beach. “You sent your prayer into my waters, trembling like some desperate widow. Do you think I didn’t hear the quiver in your voice?” The god stepped close, towering over him, and bent to cup Odysseus’ jaw with a clawed hand. His grip was iron, yet oddly careful, forcing Odysseus to look up into his sea-green eyes.
“You say you will not be commanded,” Poseidon murmured, his grin like a jagged wound. “Yet here you kneel, asking me to bleed and hurt.” His thumb brushed the corner of Odysseus’ mouth. “Tell me, monster—did Penelope hear you whisper so sweetly?” Odysseus’ lips curled into a snarl, though his body betrayed him, leaning forward into the hand he swore he would not welcome. “Do not get ahead of yourself, earth-shaker. Only reason I'm here is for your blood.” That earned him a smirk, the God practically bending in half to meet his face. “That might be, but is that all you want? You crave?”
“No.” He yanked hard on his hair, earning him a hiss. “To taste you again, my Lord, is the reason.” His voice dropped to a growl, eyes glinting with hunger that was not entirely human. It wasn't the full truth, but it wasn't a lie either. Poseidon's eyes darkened, his breath quickened by a follicle. “Monster,” he purred, tilting his head into the brutal grip, as if offering more. He laughed, guttural and low. “You wish to devour your God, King? Bite into me like carrion?” The man below him yanked again, his fingers catching into the God's tangled curls. “Fuck—.” Odysseus bared his teeth, leaning close enough for Poseidon to feel his breath. “Don’t tempt me. I'd start with your throat.”
The God beneath him whimpered, his smirk still evident on his face. “Then do it, monster. Show me just how overwhelming your hunger is.” He growled, nipping at Odysseus' bottom lip. The man obeyed, surging in at his lips. Odysseus' tongue danced with Poseidon's. Intertwining together as Poseidon moaned. He took his dagger from the belt on his chiton, dragging it upwards toward Poseidon's neck. The God's breath hitched, eyeing the dagger that continuously inched closer towards his neck. "One problem though." He paused, eyes thoughtful. Poseidon tilted his head, fixing his gaze upon the man who stopped his motions. "And what might that be, monster?"
"I find it quite troublesome to pierce your skin alone with this dagger, to taste your ichor." He sat back on his thighs, straddling the god's massive chest. "If you so wish for me to devour you, I suggest you do something about that."
Poseidon straightened his posture, smirking. He brought two fingers to Odysseus' mouth and ordered, "Then bite, my monster. Bite until you can pierce through my bones." The man snarled at the command but otherwise obeyed. It took some effort to get a decent bite into the epidermis of the God's phalange, but when he did, a small little bead of ichor slid out and onto his canine. Odysseus sighed contently, feeling how it became easier to break the skin and get more of that sweet golden blood. Unbeknownst to him, Odysseus' teeth transformed to the likeness of shark teeth, his canines engorging deeper into the fingers. He doesn't recall when he stops nor when he ended higher on Poseidon's chest. Neither did he acknowledge biting down into the God's neck. He couldn't bring himself to care how he looked, nor how feral he sounded in his groans. The only thing he advanced his attention onto be the look on Poseidon's face as he moved down, puncturing just above the god's nipple. Poseidon twitched, arching into the bite. Man turned monster growled against his chest, raising his other hand which had grown dark sharp claws, towards the king's other nipple. He twisted the neglected pec, relishing in the way Poseidon's sea-green eyes rolled halfway. "Please..." He gasped out. Odysseus snarled gleefully. Tilting his head, waiting for whatever Poseidon might say. He whimpered, tightening his grip on Odysseus' waist. "Fuck-Let me fuck you please. I promise I'd do well." Filled with pride, The man above sneered, smirking. It took him a while to formicate coherent words, but nonetheless he managed to ask, "You think..You deserve it?"
"Please," The plea came out rushed and breathless, the hands on his waist clenching and unclenching in an almost rhythmic manner. "Let me. I've given you everything you asked for, please grant me this." His God's eyes were filled with dark desperation. Odysseus placed his clawed hand under his chin, feigning consideration, as if he'd ever deny him the pleasure of having him tonight. "Alright, my God. You can but remember...," Pressed a small peck, a mocking one, onto the flaps of his fin. "I am in charge..You do not hold the reigns of the engagement." The God nodded, lips parted as if to respond. A flicker of defiance shown through Poseidon's eyes, Odysseus quirking his eyebrow as if daring the God to disobey him. The two said nothing, none 'coward' enough to break the silence.
Odysseus climbed off of Poseidon, purposefully gouging his claws into his sides. He heard a hiss, almost getting hit face first with the God's erection. "Odysseus..." He smirked, lifting the hem of his skirt. The swollen tip glowed slightly, a small bead of precome making itself known. Curious, he leaned forward, letting the tip of his elongated tongue wrap itself around the length. "Stop teasing." The waver in his voice was not subtle, nor was the buck Poseidon gave. "Be patient," He himself started to lose the appeal of being slow, using one hand to stroke the God's cock and the other behind him. "If I'm going to take you, I need to be prepared." A groan of protest greeted him, but he payed to it no mind. The lust was starting to cloud over his senses, his eyes blurry. His fingers were met with the occasional friction, brushing against the spot inside him.
Poseidon's eyes darkened, watching Odysseus. He reached for the hand that wrapped around his shaft, moving it up and down. Their gazes met, lidded brown eyes meeting hypnotic sea-green/blue. Odysseus knew he looked a mess, but he felt his throat dry at the sight of Poseidon. His God was so stupidly pretty, the flush extending towards his chest. His body moved by itself, drawing his fingers out and bracing himself above the tip of Poseidon's cock. Their eye contact didn't waver, became more intense as Poseidon's breath quickened. "Please..." Odysseus lowered himself, the tip itself weirdly huge. "Shit..." His thighs shook, lowering himself more.
He was already slick and stretched from his own fingers, but the sheer size of Poseidon’s cock made his thighs shake as the head pushed in. “Shit—” he hissed, voice fraying as he sank slowly, inch by inch. Poseidon grunted, knuckles white against the sand, trying not to thrust up. “Need a moment?” The concern slipped from Poseidon’s lips unbidden, tone strangely soft.
Odysseus’ laugh cracked into a groan as he clenched around him. “Don’t—talk like that. You’ll ruin it.” His claws sank into the god’s forearms, drawing thin trails of ichor. “I’ll take what I want." Finally, his ass met the coarse hair at Poseidon’s base, cock buried to the hilt. Odysseus trembled, head tipped back, voice spilling ragged. “F-fuck. Too big.”
Poseidon’s smirk was sharp, but his chest heaved as though he were the one being filled. “Ride me, little king. Show me what your mortal body can endure.” Odysseus snarled down at him, rolling his hips once, sharp and deliberate. His groan cracked into the night air. Poseidon’s head fell back, his throat arching as his laugh tangled with a guttural moan.
Odysseus found his rhythm quickly, bouncing on the god’s cock, each slam down breaking his composure further. His own voice betrayed him—half-snarl, half-moan—as the fat head of Poseidon’s shaft rubbed that sweet spot inside him. Poseidon gripped his waist, rutting up to meet him, demands spilling between ragged breaths. “Harder. Faster. You can’t break me like this. Take it properly—” Odysseus’ laughter tore from him, feral and raw. “Still barking orders?” His claws dragged down Poseidon’s chest, slicing glowing lines into golden skin. “You’ll learn.” He slammed down harder, the impact wringing a startled cry from Poseidon.
That sound drove Odysseus mad. He bit down on the god’s throat, drinking ichor, fucking himself ruthlessly on Poseidon’s cock. His own moans grew louder, nearly sobbing when the shaft crushed his prostate. “Fuck—Poseidon—ahh—”
Poseidon tried to keep up the growls, the commands, but his voice kept breaking, fraying into guttural moans. His fingers clutched Odysseus’ hips, not to guide—just to hang on. “Odysseus—fuck—I can’t—” Odysseus pulled back to sneer down at him, breath ragged, face smeared with gold. “What’s this? Where’s my demanding sea-king now?” He ground down, milking a broken cry out of the god beneath him. “Say it. Say you’re mine when you break.”
Poseidon’s mouth opened, no commands left—just gasps, whimpers, incoherent sounds swallowed up by Odysseus’ next thrust. His smirk was gone, shattered by sheer pleasure, his eyes blown wide as waves of desperation crashed through him. Odysseus lost control then, rutting down hard and fast, his own voice cracking into loud moans as Poseidon’s cock destroyed him from inside. The beach filled with the sound of flesh meeting flesh, Poseidon’s growls cut off by sharp, helpless cries, Odysseus’ snarls warping into guttural moans.
Poseidon’s body trembled, nails dragging down Odysseus’ back as his voice gave out on a guttural cry. He came hard, spilling molten heat deep inside, his godhood undone in a storm of broken moans. Odysseus came with him, clawing into his chest as his own body shuddered violently, painting the god’s torso in streaks of white mingling with ichor. He didn’t stop moving, riding Poseidon through every twitch, every desperate sound, until the god lay beneath him trembling and ruined.
Odysseus leaned down, licking gold from Poseidon’s lips, his voice hoarse with cruel satisfaction. “Tamed. Just like I promised.”
Poseidon, chest still heaving, managed the faintest smirk—but his voice failed him, nothing left but the sound of waves and his ragged breath.
Hopeater on Chapter 1 Mon 25 Aug 2025 05:50AM UTC
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Ar_vnac on Chapter 1 Mon 25 Aug 2025 06:24AM UTC
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rdm2 on Chapter 1 Mon 25 Aug 2025 11:59PM UTC
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AllieAlastor on Chapter 1 Thu 28 Aug 2025 01:53PM UTC
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AllieAlastor on Chapter 2 Sat 06 Sep 2025 07:42PM UTC
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Ar_vnac on Chapter 2 Sat 06 Sep 2025 07:56PM UTC
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