One must imagine Menelaus's grief when Proteus told him of Agamemnon's death.
He was selfish, and arrogant, yes—but he was also his little brother's keeper.
We see him spiral when Menelaus gets shot with an arrow, and much later on, he kills the sons of Antimachus, a Trojan who had once plotted to kill Menelaus when he was an ambassador in Troy.
They have a brotherhood that survived the flames of war, which makes their falling out even sadder.
The reason? They couldn't agree on whether to leave Troy immediately or stay to appease the gods—resulting in them splitting.
They didn't reconcile and it left a bitter taste on each other.
At the time, it probably didn't feel too bad. It was something trivial between brothers that can be sorted out later.
But later never came.
Because while Menelaus wandered Egypt, Agamemnon made it back home only to be killed by Clytemnestra.
Agamemen survived ten years of war to meet his end in the one place he was supposed to be safe in.
That kind of grief wouldn't sit well for anyone.
His big brother was always there to watch his back, and the one time he needed someone to do the same, Menelaus wasn't there.
And the last thing between them was a petty argument that shouldn't have driven a wedge between them, not after everything they gone through.
Perhaps that's why Menelaus was so invested in Odysseus's return.
He wanted one brother to return and make peace with.
Summary: Less a summary, more an explanation. I saw Dune and there was a moment where Paul stumbled back in surprise and it really did something to me. Something about that high of catching a man off guard and having the upper hand…
A/N: may or may not be inspired by Timotheé. I haven’t written and published a thing in over a decade, so all feedback is welcome.
Your hands grasp the bottom of his shirt as you clumsily attempt to take it off. With one hand he reaches and pulls it up over his head. Shaking his hair loose, it falls to frame his face. Your hands reach out to rove over his now bare chest, drinking in the sight of him.
Sitting up against your pillows. On your bed. With you in his lap. Like a dream come true.
Vulnerability hovers in the air between you two. There’s something about the way he looks at you, so sweetly, it stirs something primal. His hands reach to pull your face to his and just as he closes his eyes to meet your lips, you shove him back. The cushion of the pillows softens the shock of the force. Something about the surprise in his eyes, how you’ve caught him off guard, disarming him, ignites your desire. His eyes flit between yours, looking to you for what comes next. Excitement starts to buzz through your veins, working its way from your head to your toes.
Leaning in, you bring your lips to meet his. The kiss fervent, as it grows into a hunger. Breaking away, your breaths mingle as your lips hover an inch apart. Shifting back, putting some distance between the two of you again, you slide your hands up his chest, letting your nails graze his skin, coming to a stop around his throat. Not squeezing, but holding firm, a gentle smirk on your lips. You feel his Adam's apple bob under your grip, as his lips part to release a shaky breath.
“You’re so beautiful like this...” When you speak, it comes out a reverent whisper. Your grip tightens and you move one hand to hold the side of his face, thumb teasing his bottom lip.
You wonder if this is how he sees you when the roles are reversed. When he is the one looking down at you. Completely wrecked, skin flushed, drinking in your breathy gasps and moans, as he slowly pleasures you.
The power is intoxicating. You sit a bit straighter, shifting some of your weight into your grip, applying pressure ever just so. A moan starts in the back of his throat and you rock your hips forward over his clothed erection and watch as his eyes flutter shut. Your fingers tighten on his face and you tilt his head.
“Open your eyes… There's a good boy.” Your gaze deepens as it connects with the ruin in his.
“What would you like?” You ask as you continue to slowly grind against him.
“God anything… please” His brows raised together in a pleading look.
You smile sweetly in return, anticipation humming through your body. Rocking your hips forward to earn another groan, you slide your body down his, removing what remained of his clothes, finally taking his erection in your hands.
He watches you with bated breath, as you run your lips along his length. His curls fall into a halo around his head as he leans his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes.
“Ah ah ahh… you will look at me the whole time or I will stop. Got it?” He obeys in an instant, bringing his gaze to watch as your lips part to take him into your mouth. Taking your time, slowly easing him into your mouth. You delight in the slide of your tongue against his length. Twisting and pumping your hands in time with the bobbing of your head. Every so often you pull back to give special attention to the tip. Relishing in the sounds you pull from him.
Every time you glance up, he’s staring right at you, eyes glazed over with lust and awe. Your own desire throbs between your legs, begging for attention. Reluctantly, you pull him from your mouth. Looking up you take in the sight of him. Chest flushed, rising and falling with his heavy breath. Lidded eyes still trained on you. Unruly hair falling around his lust stricken face.
An absolute wreck. All for you. Just for you.
“You’ve been so good. Do you want me to ride you now?”
“Fuuuck yes” He nods enthusiastically as you crawl back up his body. His hands come up to grasp your hips. Anchoring himself as you line him up at your entrance and slowly sink onto him. The two of you sigh in tandem. Pleasure washes over you as you begin to rise up and down. He is entranced as he watches where your bodies connect. You scrape your nails across his chest as heat pools in your abdomen, drinking in the sight of him. Lips parted, little hisses and curses leaving his mouth. His eyes rake up your body to meet yours and it sends sparks through you.
You delight in his pleasure. It mixes with your own and sends white hot lightning up your spine. Moans mingle in the air between you as your hips find a new rhythm. Electricity sparks in the heat of your union. Your eyes meet with desperation as your resolve begins to slip. His long fingers dig into your hips as he takes over your movements, fucking you onto his lap. Fuck if it doesn’t feel like heaven, but you’re not ready to give up your little game just yet. Your hands shoot around his neck in retaliation. He groans under the pressure and lessens his hold on your hips. Sliding your hands to the base of his neck, you use your grip as leverage, taking back control of the pace.
“Fuck, you feel amazing. Does this feel good baby?” His eyes flutter back at your words. He barely manages to gasp in confirmation as you bring your hips down hard against him.
“I said, do I make you feel good?” Punctuating your words with your hips and channeling what little resolve you have left into an assertive gaze.
“Yes! Fuck you feel amazing. You make me feel so fucking good.” Desperation clear in his voice. The fight to let you keep control was obvious in the restraint he was showing. You knew he wanted to let loose and just give in and you wanted nothing more than to be swept along in surrender.
“You want more don’t you?” Conflict in his lustful gaze. He was going to need a bit more encouragement for him to get the message that you want him to take control and you were more than happy to provide. Shifting forward, you lean your chest against his, slowing the movement of your hips so that you’re riding just the tip of his cock. You whisper in his ear.
“This isn’t enough is it? You need more. You‘ve been so good for me. So patient... Fuck I want you to throw me down and take me.”
Moaning that last part and emphasizing it with deliberate rolls of your hips. You lean back and his eyes are wide with shock. As if he is paralyzed by the lust your words inspired. Sliding your hands around his face and bringing your lips to his in a messy kiss, you offer one last bit of encouragement.
“You’ve been so good. Hold me down and fuck me. Please...”
It was that last word that did the trick.
His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you down onto him hard. Once, twice, and then he is lifting you off and flipping you down onto your back.
The emptiness barely has time to register before he’s rolling on top of you and sliding inside. The feeling of him filling you is ecstasy. His hips thrust lazily at first, but he quickly sets pace. His one hand braced next to your head, the other wrapped around the side of your neck, applying the perfect amount of pressure. Your body sings under his grip.
“Fuck. You’re so good like this.” You watch the words fall from his lips. His grip on your throat tightens as a whimper slips out. Your walls clench around him, the buildup to your release mounting. His eyes lock with yours and his rhythm finds purpose. Each thrust seeking out that perfect spot inside of you, shifting his weight so one hand can wander down to find your clit.
Moans pour out of your mouth at every thrust as the pleasure carries you away.
His eyes squeeze shut for a minute and he mutters something too low to hear over your own cries.
Your cries grow more desperate and your body writhes under the stimulation as your climax mounts.
“That’s it. That’s my girl. It’s okay… come for me baby.”
So you did, within moments of those words leaving his mouth.
Your senses went blurry. And then, with white hot fire, your orgasm crashed over you like a swelling wave. Flaring with each ecstatic shock, each wave, each spasm. And him at the center of it. Filling you. Pushing you. Pulling you down and drowning you in nirvana. Your only wish, to take him with you.
You look up at him with hazy eyes and watch as he follows suit. Memorizing the expression on his face as he falls apart. Basking in the sounds spilling from his lips. He collapses halfway on top of you and you clutch him to your chest, caressing his hair as you float in the remaining bliss.
Dune. Lady and her little prince. Sorry about that, but I had to! xd Little Paul and his mother. There was no such scene in the book, but I couldn't help but imagine it xd. I love the Atreides, especially her! (I feel that despite the negative opinions I will have to reach for the prequels by the son of the author of the book 🤣🤣🤣) Overall, I think that Paul's relationship with his mother is so lovely. Every time she or he defended her / him and in a brilliantly performed scene with a rehearsal with pain in the movie, I had this "How lovely" 😍😍😍 Dune scene where Paul sided with Lady Jessica as Helleck tried to further accuse her of betrayal .. 🥺🥺🥺🥺 The respect they have for each other is great .. Well, there is a fanart.... Of course, it's still fun with oriental dress. Ah, and Yes, his toy it is a plush bull xd.
