#/ Hiding in plain sight / ( Marvel verse ) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Words Whispered in the Dark

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series or a standalone

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 6250🙈

Summary: There are things, intimate desires, which people simply don’t want to talk about out loud. Since you prefer writing those down, it applies twice as much.

Steve supports your writing – but what he’d think about your newest story… well, you’re not sure you wanted to know.

Warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, bondage, oral (M rec), consensual sensory deprivation, praise kink & body worship, ‘babygirl’, fingering, dom/sub undertones & implied age gap & professor-student dynamic & cumplay if you squint, language ---- (let me know if I missed any…why is the list so long wtf)

A/N: Can be read as a standalone. Part of the Attached ‘verse with professor!Steve.

A/N: For Siri’s 5K Soft Dark Challenge. Congratulations to the rightfully earned milestone ❤️ Thank you for hosting the challenge and kindly including even soft fics (even though I feel like my soft got lost in translation a bit).

Prompt: “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.” - bold in the text, pls don’t @ me for the way I used it.

Stepping back into your and Steve’s shared bedroom and study room in one, you froze on spot, heart leaping to your throat.

You were lucky you didn’t drop your coffee and snack upon the sight of him, your fingers gripping the items tighter in surprise instead. But fuck, was it a close call.

Because few minutes ago, you moved to the kitchen to grab some refreshments for your brain. Relaxed air had settled over your tiny but loving household on a late Sunday morning; Steve was chilling on the bed, while you sat by your desk, laptop in your lap as your fingers danced over the keyboard, putting into words your latest… uhm, story. It was going great too and being able to steal glances at your gorgeous fiancé and muse in one person was a pleasant bonus.

Steve was, as sheepish as it sometimes made you, well-acquainted with your passion for writing, even rooting for you in his fully-supportive partner mode at all times. He read a few things of yours, both dirty and sweet ones, and he seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself. You weren’t hiding things from him, never had to; and damn, did it feel good for both of you.

So technically, you knew there was a chance you’d find him behind your desk, eyes skimming over your words since you left the computer opened, just like the document, but… well.

Nothing could prepare you for the sight on him actually doing it, shoulders tense, Adam’s apple bobbing, breathing shaky as his chest kept rising and falling irregularly.

Your own breath hitched at the sight, face feeling like set aflame, pulse hammering in your temples.

Oh no. Oh shit. This wasn’t happening--

Truth was, you really had no problem sharing your stories with Steve. But this one… well, fuck. You were so fucking screwed.

“Oh---oh honey,” you stuttered, the endearment you rarely used tasting foreign on your tongue. That was how out of it you were upon realizing what was happening here.

Steve was reading it. Steve was reading that thing. That shameless, entirely dubious thing that--- this was bad. Bad, bad, bad, really fucking bad—he hadn’t run for the hills before, no matter how filthy your stories got, but now he certainly would.

Steve’s head snapped to you at instant, cheeks flushed, eyes wide as he was caught red-handed.

“You- uh, you weren’t supposed to… see that,” you stuttered awkwardly, still unable to move an inch.

Maybe you should run for the hills just so you wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath?

He didn’t react apart from spinning in the chair to face you, throat working again as his gaze trailed up and down your figure clad in a simple shirt and shorts, fluffy socks to keep your feet warm. Despite your plain outfit, his gaze burned with intensity and dare to say hunger, enough to stir heat in your belly.

Realizing this might be the last time you’d ever see him (okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration, maybe, but better safe than sorry), you let yourself to take him in as well, again, even if you knew every line of his body, every detail. The cut of his jaw, tendons in his throat tense as well as his shoulders, long fingers griping the armrests, legs slightly parted, accenting the unmistakable growing bulge between them.

Your heart skipped a startled and excited beat. Oh. Well. At least he liked what he read, you supposed, even if all bells in your head were ringing it alarm, because… that. That kind of story would be a little too much for him, you had thought.

Was it?

“Come here,” he whispered, voice hoarse as if he had just woken up, the same voice that caressed your ear as he rutted into you, in the lazy loving which so perfectly fit a morning like this.

Willing your feet to move, teeth sunk into your lower lip, your fluffy socks padded almost soundlessly against the floor as you obeyed his request.

He gestured for you to rid yourself of the items in your hands; once again, you obliged.

The second your hands were free, he grabbed your wrist, pulling you in for a dirty kiss, fingers sinking into your hair to keep you exactly where he wanted you. Sighing in relief, you relaxed into his affection and he wasted no time licking into your mouth, his free hand gripping onto your shirt (his shirt) to drag you into his lap.

A hazardous position in an office chair, one might think. But you had a lot of practice with your favourite professor.

Sliding lower in the seat and pulling you up, Steve positioned you to his liking, drawing an appreciative hum from you as his erection rubbed deliciously against your core. You felt him smile into the kiss at the little sound you made, his fingers digging into your flesh in order to press you into him further, rutting against your quickly dampening centre.

Okay, who were you kidding. You had been writing down your filthy fantasy, you were already soaked, Steve’s movements and apparent enthusiasm just adding to the heat. A whine escaped your lips when he withdrew a fraction, giving you a chance to breathe, hand slipping under your shorts to fondle your lower cheek.

“Well, I did see it, sweetheart,” Steve said lowly, a little too short of breath for the teasing to work in his favour. Still, your stomach twisted in anticipation of what was to follow. “And I want it.”

Your eyes snapped open, your lips parting in awe, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You met his eyes, dark pupils having almost swallowed the blue of his irises, gaze intent to prove his point. Fuck. You could come right now if he kept you sitting exactly as you were and watching you like that.

It was one thing to see him react to your fantasy laid bare for him to see – voluntarily or not – but him admitting it out loud, well that was just a whole new fucking level.

Now the idea of that actually being doable was planted in our brain and your core clenched at the wistful image you had painted with your words.

It took you another minute of staring at each other to realize what exactly he was saying without explicitly voicing it.

“Wait, right now?” you blurted out breathlessly, a single nod and a kiss to the corner of your mouth your only answer.

Fuck. Shit. Okay.

“A-alright. Let’s do this then,” you stuttered, as thrilled as nervous.

You didn’t expect that – but you weren’t one to let the opportunity pass. You framed Steve’s face with your palms, his beard rough against your skin, and pressed your lips to his in a hurried kiss, eager to get him where you needed him before he changed his mind. Last grind of your hips, swallowing his content hum, you climbed from his lap to search for something that would hold.

“Bed. Now.”

Your fingers were shaking a bit under his intent gaze as they slipped under his t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve was sitting on the bed now, legs parted enough for you to stand between them, watching our every move. You didn’t think you’d ever get used to the way he was looking at you – so tender, with longing and yet with such lust.

It lit your nerves on fire in the worst and best ways and that was alright with you, as long as you’d get to keep him.

He smiled at you softly, a little quirk to his eyebrow when he caught you staring and not springing into action just yet.

“What is it, babygirl?”

His hands trailing up your waist made it harder to answer.

You sighed, feeling your earlier confidence wavering. “You’re just so fucking pretty, it’s unreal.”

His lips curled up in a smirk, but the light in his eyes gave away just how much the compliment meant for him. He pulled you closer, a breathy kiss landing on your clothed stomach.

“That coming from you… could look at you all day, you must already know that,” he murmured to your shirt, sending a sparkle of courage up your chest.

You ruffled his hair and pushed him away with a chuckle, mirroring his previous smirk.

“Well, you won’t, not this time,” you sing-sang cheekily, stepping over his thigh to kneel on the bed behind him, hearing his breath catch, his hand brushing your thigh as you danced out of his reach.

Placing the scarf over his forehead first, you felt your insides twist in anticipation, fingertips tingling. God, you were really doing this.

“You ready, Professor Rogers?” you hummed to his ear, marvelling at the effect the title had on him, always, as his hands clenched into fists on his thighs.

“When you say it like that, babygirl? Yes, I am,” he grumbled, causing you to bit down on your lip.

Making sure you didn’t tie the knot too tight nor too loose, you moved the fabric so it would cover his eyes.

“Good?”

“Uh-huh,” was his wordless answer as you let your hands slid to his bare shoulders.

Steve was undoubtedly a specimen. He was every male-attracted person’s wet dream and you were the one getting your hands on him. You thanked heaven and hell for it every day. The barely visible lines of his abs, toned chest… but Christ, it was his back that would be your downfall.

Allowing your hands to wander, your fingertips traced the hard lines of his deltoids, a featherlight touch making him shudder and your mouth to actually salivate. Dropping a kiss between his shoulder blades, you scooted closer so you were literally breathing down his neck, palms sprawled over his triceps, caressing his thick biceps, down his forearms and over his fists and all the way back up.

It was almost like a beginning of a massage, you supposed, but no one could blame you if you were enjoying the sensation on your palms a little too much. You didn’t get the opportunity to appreciate Steve’s physique like this often enough. So you indulged yourself a few more times, applying more pressure, dropping a kiss to the crook of his neck every once in a while. He winced at the accidental scrape of your nails up his forearm, causing you to halt in your movements.

“You still good?” you questioned quietly, genuinely worried for a second. You realized he had barely made a sound so far.

“You could say that, yeah,” he choked out you felt your lips curl up into a smile. Stealing a glance over his shoulder, you took notice of the unmistakable hard outline on his sweatpants and gleefully resumed your movements, nibbling on his shoulder before soothing the skin with a gentle lick. “Babygirl…”

“Yeah?”

“You know what. Don’t test me,” he warned, only making you smile wider.

“Or what?”

He turned his head to side despite not being able to see you, giving you a perfect view of how tense was his jaw. Oh, you could imagine the stern look he wanted to scold you with.

“Or you’re not gonna like what’s to come when I put my hands on you,” he threatened, sighing exasperatedly when you replied with a barely audible ‘promise?’.

“In all seriousness though… what if you… uhm, couldn’t?” you asked reluctantly, not keen on sharing what you wanted… but wanting it really badly. You were sensing a pattern within yourself, seriously.

“I don’t follow--- oh,” escaped him soundlessly as your fingers attempted to wrap around his wrists and squeezed to give him a hint. “I don’t know about that, I mean-“

You felt your hear sink in disappointment, but you tried not to let it show, wondering how to try to convince him one more time. Sure, if it was a no-no, then you wouldn’t force him, he never forced you into anything either and this was about your mutual pleasure, but… now, having him partially at your mercy, the idea nudged insistently on your mind and the image of him with his hands tied above his head while you could do anything you pleased… you might have been soaking the shorts and the sheets at that.

“We don’t have to, Steve,” you assured him kindly, hundred percent honest despite planning on playing dirty. Your hands moved to his abdomen, caressing their way up his chest, accidently brushing over his left nipple, your lips moving to his ear. “But I’d be so good to you…”

“Babygirl,” he whispered, out of breath as your hand wandered down his happy trail, slipping just under the hem of his sweats, the fingers of your other hand moving to the neglected nipple, this time shamelessly toying with it.

“I’d be such a good girl for you, Professor Rogers,” you promised, keeping the smile off your voice when you heard him gulp, his cock visibly twitching. “I’d be really, really nice. Don’t you want that, Professor?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, okay-“

“Good choice,” you said approvingly, dropping a kiss to his cheek, making him groan and probably regret his decision already. You stood up, quickly looking for something you could use. “Just so you know, I think this is where the same rule applies,” you noted matter-of-factly. “You don’t like something I do, you want me to stop at any point, you tell me. I really want this to be good for you, Steve. So. What’s the word?”

From the front, you could see the blush that spread over his chest, causing you to bite your lip and nearly stumble over your feet. Good lord, Steve blindfolded, all flushed and waiting for you on the bed so you could do your worst--- now that was a sight to behold.

“Uhm… Waterloo?”

You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh at his choice. It was cute and ridiculous... but also kinda hot, because well, Steve’s brains were just another turn-on for you. Of course he would choose something like that. Professor Steven Grant Rogers, history buff, certified hot nerd, the sweetest man to ever walk the Earth.

You pressed your lips together to prevent yourself from smiling too wide. You didn’t even know why. It wasn’t like he could see you.

“Okay. Waterloo it is,” you said, swiftly moving to the closet when another idea popped in your head.

Slipping into a new outfit before heading back, you were rather satisfied with yourself as you grabbed the two ties you found prior. Not that it would actually hold him – it was about the idea.

“You’re taking a bit long, babygirl…”

“And? You mind?” you teased him, stopping to stand in front of him. “Have some… pressing issues?”

“Keep it up, babygirl, see what happens once this is over,” he bit back, only making you chuckle at the perfect pass.

“I think there’s something else that’s up--- sorry, sorry,“ you mumbled when his hand landed blindly on your thigh.

His brows furrowed when he felt the difference.

“You changed.”

“Uh-huh.”

His hand trailed up curiously, right under your miniskirt and you let him… just until air got stuck in his throat upon finding you with nothing but the generous amount of slick covering your core.

“Fuck-“

“Nope,” you replied cheekily, even if the flicker of his finger caused you to shudder, his touch like liquid fire at this point.

Fuck, you wanted him. You wanted him right now and you wanted him to take you in every way he wanted… but the idea of him at your mercy was appealing enough for you to control yourself.

You grasped his wrist and shoved it away; he allowed it, but not without whining pitifully.

“Lie down, Steve, please. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

“You better,” he grunted, unwillingly moving up the bed, obediently spreading out on the sheets and letting you guide his arms up as you climbed over him and tied his wrists together.

“Not too tight?”

He shook his head, a smirk crossing over his lips. You rolled your eyes at the double meaning, but you guessed it served you right.

Oh, but would you wipe that smirk off…

Securing the knot, you shifted to be face to face with him, lips hovering just above his mouth, breathing the same air and hoping to begin the sweet torture.

You had to admire his patience; despite definitely noticing your positions, Steve didn’t move an inch. It was up to you then – and the premise sent another thrill through your veins. Oh, you’d break him in the most delicious ways.

As soon as you erased the distance, his lips sunk into yours hungrily, wet and soft in the contrast to his beard, the sensation you adored, having you squirming above him until you remembered again that you were the one in control.

You kissed him with vigour, licking into his mouth, one hand still where his were joined, the other pressing against his chest. Your tongue met his, revelling at his taste and at another of his tries to dominate the kiss, to set things as they usually were. But as much as you loved it when he took charge… not today.

Parting abruptly, his lips following on instinct, you couldn’t but grin to yourself. Kissed his fingertips, you lingered at the one still glistening with your juices. You took it to your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and sucking lightly, feeling Steve’s heart speed up under your palm like crazy.

When you lightly grazed the skin with your teeth, his groan and the way his hips thrusted upward was the best reward you could get.

Kissing a trail down his arm – because goddammit you loved his arms – you hummed to yourself contentedly whenever you could feel the slightest shift of his body under yours and greedy for more contact, you allowed yourself to put most of your weight fully on him.

The choked sound it elicited from him startled you at first – until you realized that with your skirt hiked up, you weren’t the only one enjoying the skin-on-skin contact, your slick coating Steve’s lower stomach just above his sweats. Hopefully it was giving him ideas – it was certainly was to you.

Rustle of fabric, ragged breaths, occasional smacking noise when you moved up or left a small hickey on his shoulder and above his collarbone. Your fingers toyed gently with his nipples as you kissed his sternum before replacing your hands with your mouth once more, sucking, drawing a quiet whimper from him.

Fuck couldn’t get enough of the noises he was making. The pretty breathless moans of your name, the curses slipping from his lips… it was like music, but on a desperately low volume.

“What is it you always tell me?” you teased, lamely covering for the fact that your own arousal was nearly uncontainable. Shit, you loved how sensitive his nipples were… how much more sensitive he must have been now, no visual, laser focused on every touch instead? You wanted more… so much more. “Don’t hold these pretty sounds from me?”

Steve gritted his teeth at the remark, but as soon as you positioned your heat directly over his hard length and rolled your hips, he sang for you beautifully.

“Shit, sweetheart-“

The rush of confidence, the feeling of power was almost overwhelming – the image of him, lips parted in mute pleasure, certainly was. You were a little too close to climbing your own peak a little too quickly to your liking.

Sitting up straight, you undulated your hips few times, hands tracing patterns over Steve’s rapidly rising chest and abs. Much to his obvious dislike, you all too soon slid lower, your mouth making its way down his abdomen and then you finally, finally rid him of his sweatpants and boxers in one go.

His cock sprang free, hard and red at the tip, leaking just enough to cause your mouth to water and your thighs to rub together to give yourself some of the friction you craved so much.

Hands planted on his hips, you kissed along his hip bones and the apex of his thighs, taking your sweet time exploring everything you could – except for where you suspected he wanted you the most. You had to grin for yourself when you cupped his balls, causing him to hiss in relief, the muscles of his abdomen and legs clenching beautifully.

“Talk to me, Steve,” you hummed as you replaced your hand with your tongue, licking a stripe towards his base.

“Christ- don’t stop--“

“Eloquent as always, Professor,” you retreated, causing him to let out a growly sound you never heard before and had your core tingle, cunt feeling awfully empty.

Christ was right, alright. Seeing his chest heaving, fingers twitching as if he wanted nothing but to tug at your hair to keep you there and stuff your mouth full of his cock--- if you didn’t get some soon, you might actually combust.

So you put your mouth back to work on his sack again, fingers barely curling around the base of his cock, giving a first experimental stroke before you squeezed a bit tighter – and then swiftly moved away, his hips following on instinct in, craving more.

“For fuck’s --- how did I ever think you were sweet and nice?” he complained huskily, impatience lacing his voice.

You chuckled, but heard him out, leaving his balls in order to give more attention to his impressive and possibly painfully hard length.

“Beats me,” you retorted, hands busy with gentle strokes to his shaft. “I mean, we literally got together thanks to you finding out I wrote about sucking and riding your dick right in your office, Professor Rogers.”

“You little-“

His protests died in his throat, features twisting in wordless pleasure when you finally wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, delivering a few kitten licks to the tip. His taste exploded on your tongue, eliciting a content hum which he certainly felt too, because a jerk of his hips pushed him deeper to your mouth.

Slowly swallowing as much as you could without having him hit the back of your throat, you curled your hand tighter around the base and started bobbing your head.

A string of breathless profanities left his mouth whenever you squeezed, only getting filthier when you hollowed your cheeks. It was all encouragement you needed to take him deeper, giving him a taste of heaven as his tip brushed the back of your throat.

“Babygirl, fuck, fuck, yeah--- just like that…”

Your own arousal became unbearable, a surge of hot need squeezing your insides at Steve’s praise. Slipping a hand under your skirt, you sighed in relief when your fingers caressed your lower lips, hips bucking forward in desperate need of more.

Your predicament was impossible to solve – you wanted him inside you already, so badly, but fuck the picture Steve made, even if blurry as tears prickled your eyes whenever he hit the back of your throat, was just too divine.

Lips crimson with how he kept biting at them to keep at least a little quiet, hair sticking to his forehead, muscles drawn tight like strings as he kept clenching them both unwittingly and consciously in hope to get you where he wanted you and the fresh taste of him whenever you did something he particularly liked--- you simply had to feast your eyes on him. And he couldn’t do the same… or take charge for that matter.

So fucking pretty like this.

And you were the only one seeing him like that, tied up, helpless against the assault on his senses sans vision. He gave himself up to you like that, willingly. The thought warmed you up inside out, enough to drive you nearly as crazy as if you were in his place.

Wasting no time with preparation you didn’t need, you pushed two fingers into your core at once, whimpering around Steve’s cock when you did. Your whole body relaxed, the pent-up desire easing a little and yet burning hotter. You pumped your fingers slowly, the sensation so blissful you had to remind yourself to keep working on Steve too.

Still, your actions didn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you—are you touching yourself, babygirl?” he whispered, tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

It took you a second to swallow the baseless embarrassment and literally swallow, causing Steve to let out a moan so wrecked and pretty you felt your pussy clamp around your fingers.

Hoping your words would come out less shy than you felt when saying them, you released Steve’s length with a wet pop to tease him some more.

“Yeah, I am…. Why? You want a taste?” you asked sweetly, clearing your throat that suddenly felt so empty.

The guttural moan that erupted in Steve’s chest was music to your ears, his cock twitching and glistening with fresh beads of precum a sight to behold.

“Yeah, babygirl… give it to me,” he choked out and the genuine desire in his voice was like a punch to your solar plexus. Your walls clenched around your fingers, the familiar coil in your abdomen tightening.

Swallowing a pitiful sigh at the loss, you stretched over the warm length of Steve’s body, gulping when his own parted in invitation.

Jesus fucking Christ.

Reluctantly, you let the fingers sticky with your juices brush over Steve’s lips, gasping when his tongue instantly slid out to lick at the essence eagerly, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Fuck, always so sweet, babygirl…” he muttered, your breath stuck in your throat when his mouth blindly chased after your fingers before you could withdraw your hand.

“Oh my god-“ you choked out, mesmerized, your pussy clamping around nothing.

He sucked greedily, the image alone causing your hips to rut against his, your clit catching against his rock-hard shaft. Your eyes fluttered close in bliss, stars exploding behind your eyelids.

Unwittingly, you worked your hips faster, riding Steve’s thick cock even without having him inside. The friction, the soaked fabric of your skirt brushing against your clit, the sensation of Steve’s tongue lapping at your fingers as if he had his mouth on your pussy instead--- you felt the coil in your belly snap, the world turning white before you knew how.

You came with a broken cry, blissed out and shocked at the sudden release, but riding your pleasure out on instinct.

Grazing your fingers with his teeth as he let go, Steve spoke words so filthy our head spun.

“That’s it, babygirl. Fuck. Look how little my girl needed to come all over my cock. Using me so shamelessly. You must have really wanted it, didn’t you…” he said, voice hoarse with a tint of smugness as you came back from your high, the dirty talk only already riling you up again.

You had no idea what just happened, but you had a feeling Steve immensely enjoyed it as he somehow got the upper hand on you despite being the one tied up.

For someone who was supposed to have all blood out of his brain and have it in his dick instead, he was way too smug… but you’d reverse it again. He had no idea what was about to hit him.

Stealing a kiss to taste ourself on his tongue, your fingers went to remove the blindfold.

Your professor was, in certain aspects, still just a simple guy – he liked a good visual. It was silly of you to rid him of it in the first place, no matter how much fun you had with it.

Steve blinked in surprise, squinting against the sudden light, while you slipped out of your bralette, leaving you in nothing but your very schoolgirl-like mini skirt. You smiled at him sweetly, kissing his mouth once more, thumb softly brushing his lips as you towered over him, nearly giving him a view of what was under the fabric.

“I always want you,” you whispered with a smile, your hand cupping your breast, gently tweaking your nipple, his gaze following the movement as his fingers twitched. You bit the inside of your cheek, hand slowly trailing down. “Want you to touch me, everywhere. Always so wet and ready for you…”

Dark eyes watched you as you slipped your fingers under the waist of the skirt, a tiny mewl escaping you when the pad of your fingers bumped into your clit.

You would have felt stupid trying to give him a show after you came after almost nothing, but the warning growl of your name once again assured you that unsexy was the last thing that came to Steve’s mind when looking at you. It warmed both your belly and your heart. You almost felt regretful for a moment that you were still keeping him hanging, neglecting his no doubt aching cock, but he thought he had the upper hand here.

He was wrong.

“Always thinking of you… even when I’m alone, always thinking about your fingers, stretching me so good, about you fucking me, so hard till I’m screaming your name,” you continued in hushed voice, revelling at how tight his jaw set, eyes narrowed, breathing once again picking up.

“Babygirl—”

“Oops, sorry,” you chipped, pecking his lips as you withdrew your hand, quickly drawing a trail of kisses down his chest and abdomen, unable to resist a lick here and there where the line of his muscles looked particularly tasty. “Just thought you’d like to see my mouth on you. You like to watch, Professor Rogers, no?”

He never got a chance to answer as you guided him to your mouth again, holding his gaze as he indeed watched, eyebrows furrowing, each breath hitching, soon chanting your name. You caressed his balls as well, tongue tracing the vein on the underside of his length, your other hand firmly around his base.

You were the first to avert his gaze as your eyes fluttered close so you could fully focus on your task, relaxing your throat.

“Babygirl--- fuck me-- I’m gonna-“

You eased up a bit, earning a frustrated growl, the corners of your lips rising a bit as you imagined the ugly glare he must have shot you.

Thinking about it, closing your eyes was a mistake.

You never saw it coming as a hand suddenly sunk into your hair, yanking you up face to face with him, alarmed eyes staring into black ones as his pupils nearly swallowed all the blue or his irises.

He had slipped out of the poorly tied bonds, clearly fed up with your shenanigans.

Ah-oh, sounded in the back of your mind.

Another part of you didn’t fail to notice that despite the swift movement and calling an end to your games, Steve’s fingers were careful not to pull too harshly, making sure he was cradling your head safely. Same when he rolled you over, trapping you under the hard lines of muscle you had been tasting a moment ago, protective cage of his arms around your head.

If you weren’t so startled, you would have swooned.

You never got the chance, because any possible sound was muffled by his mouth crashing into yours, hand slipping from your nape to your throat to keep you in place with a wordless warning, hips pressed to yours just in case you would want to escape.

You would never. Even if you had a hunch Steve was about to ruin you in a way that would have you feel it for days.

Having enough of your mouth for the moment, giving you a chance to gasp for air, he stared at you smugly, one corner of his perfectly red lips raised in a smirk.

“Wicked little thing, aren’t you?” he grunted, thumb caressing the hollow of your throat softly, causing you to gulp.

You summoned your best innocent look, doe-like eyes that usually worked. “S-sorry?”

A flicker of a smile as he forced his knee between your thighs, instantly pressing against your still sensitive core.

“I don’t think you are, babygirl,” he huffed, nosing the crook of your neck, biting down sharper than you expected, a yelp erupting from your throat. He soothed in with the pad of his thumb, smiling wide, something soft in his eyes when he looked at you again. You were so fucking baffled at what that meant. ��That perfect filthy mind of yours… and you still get a bit shy, huh?”

“W-what?”

“You know what I think, babygirl?” he whispered intimately, teeth grazing the shell of your ear. “I think that you left the document opened on purpose.”

Your rapidly beating heart stopped in your chest, wind knocked out of you completely.

Fuck.

You were so busted.

Steve had read you like a book wide open--- because of course he did.

Yes, there had been a great part of you who wished for him to see it, hoping in this exact outcome; there had been an equally great part dreading what he would think about you. Writing the story down, you were thinking a bit more with your pussy than your brain though, so you decided to leave it for Steve to read. If he went for it, maybe you’d get something from it. If he didn’t, you’d move on. No harm no fool, right?

Right. No.

Now he did know and saw right through your little trick. And damn, did he look proud of himself for figuring it out. You were in so much trouble.

Somehow, you were as horrified as excited.

Steve chuckled as you swallowed against your suddenly dry throat, eyes no doubt wide as saucers.

“Oh, you did. Too shy to ask for it, leaving that to me instead. My sneaky, needy girl,” he muttered, fondness and humour with a dark lilt in his voice.

“I—I didn’t know how-“ you stuttered, feeling your face burning in embarrassment at his tone, just a smidge patronizing.

You averted his gaze, a vain attempt really, knowing he wouldn’t let you. Slipping two fingers under your chin, he guided you to face him again.

“Didn’t know how… hmm… so you thought you’d play me? That’s really naughty, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry… Professor Rogers,” you added quickly in hopes to mollify him, indeed earning a sweet kiss.

“Oh, it’s okay, babygirl. You know why?” he tested you and you could only shake your head lightly, guessing at best what kind of revenge awaited you. “Because you’re my good girl and you’ll let me settle the score. I’ll play with you now. It’s only fair, no?”

Oh fuck, here it came.

For a brief second, his lust-filled eyes appeared startingly clear and sober, boring into yours with a serious question.

It’s only fair, no? he had said.

It’s alright with you if the roles reverse, right? was what he was truly asking, checking, always checking if you were okay, just like you had been checking with him.

Because sex was fun, but only if all parties were on board.

Because Steve was sweet, considerate, soft and loving and he was everything you ever looked for in a man and more. You trusted him. You always did and you trusted him now – he would make you feel so so good. It was never really a question.

“Y—yes, it is.”

“Good girl,” he praised you, causing your core to weep. And he knew it, oh did he know and shamelessly used it against you... a little payback to all the professor you’d been throwing around. “Close your eyes.”

And you did. The blindfold came first, then hands, his fingers skimming over your forearms teasingly, feather-light touch on your sensitive skin, before he finally brought them up and tied them together.

“You ready, sweetheart?”

No, you were absolutely not ready, but your body was buzzing with desire again at that point, so you breathed a soft yes. And maybe, just maybe… no matter how you had enjoyed driving him crazy, cheeky and full of feeling of power, this felt like home. Because you trusted him – and so you gave yourself to him wholly.

He hummed in contentment as you confirmed, causing you shiver as he nosed the skin under your ear. “Good. Because I’m going to wreck you for that little stunt of yours.”

His words tickled the sensitive skin and shit, okay, your nerve endings were tingling, the sensation amplified tenfold with your eyes covered. Steve really was going to wreck you.

Mouth moving to your breast, he took the nipple in his mouth, shifting so the head of his cock nudged at your weeping opening, pushing just a bit with a promise of a delicious stretch, almost, almost there.

“Please,” was all you managed to breathe out, growing impatient, hissing when gave a playful bite to the underside of your breast, sending a surge of arousal through your veins. You back arched, a mewl escaping your when Steve moved his hips away completely, denying you.

“And you’re gonna take it, aren’t you?” he muttered to your skin, lips trailing lower and lower, warm and soft, beard leaving behind a delicious burn.

“Y- yes.”

“Good girl. And what else are you going to do? Tell me,” he encouraged you, large palms pushing your thighs apart so he could fit the insanely broad shoulders between them.

Mind foggy with need, senses overwhelmed, you still had enough wits to understand what he wanted to hear.

“Thank you,” you breathed out.

“Damn straight.” His words were a damp hot blow of air against your mound, causing your hips to jolt as if your body was begging to be taken apart by him already – blissfully aware of how he would put it back together again.

And with an inevitable scratch to your lower lips and a kitten lick to your swollen bud for starters, Steve did.

Attached masterlist

S.R. masterlist

I sincerely apologize for twisting the prompt and not even being able to write a soft enough fic the one time I’m supposed to.

But I hope you enjoyed anyway. I mean, if you made it to the end…

Thank you for reading :-*

Your Anika I’m-Not-a-Smut-Writer Ann

P.S. Fic loosely relates to one of the reblogs of this series: “You know one good thing about being an erotic writer is - you don’t have to talk about your embarrassing kinks. You want to tie your boyfriend up? You just email him a story about it 'subtly’ hinting at it.” Close enough?

#siris5ksoftdarkchallenge #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #professor steve rogers #LEMONS #mind the warnings #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america au #college au #modern au #wrong attachment au #captain america #captain america x you #captain america x reader #attached #words whispered in the dark #anika ann

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kindcstguardian · 5 years ago

Text

The art of disguise is — knowing how to hide in plain sight.

Name. ( 한주민 ) Han Jumin

Nickname. Ice Prince, Cat Lover

Age. Korean: 24 | International: 23

Star sign. Libra ( October 5th )

Religion. Christian ( brought up; former )

Sexual Orientation. Pansexual

Languages. Korean, Italian, Spanish, French, English & Arabic.

Height. 184 cm

Weight. 78 kg

Specialty. Acting, rehearsing, paperwork

Likes. Elizabeth the 2rd, reading, wine-tasting, walking

Dislikes. Big dogs, his father, tight schedules, stalkers

GENERAL DESCRIPTION.

Heir of the C&R International Company as well as the face of it, Han Jumin is widely known as the 'Ice Prince' due to being devoid of emotions everywhere else except in stage. .

BACKGROUND.

Still born heir of C&R International Company, he comes from a divorce caused by his womanizer father and, for a while, the man contemplated how lonely he felt raising a child on his own but that soon ended when he got married again. It's from childhood that he started to suppress emotions, his anger towards his father, the pity towards his mother, the anxiety he felt when responsibilities would be shoved at him and expected to be fulfilled with no mistakes—he started to suppress it all to the point of becoming numb. V, his best friend, had recommended him taking acting classes when in middle school, as a way to vent his emotions—and it worked, marvelously. His father, too, used this to his advantage ( having the upper hand ) and made Jumin take part of plays and musicals, to give an image of C&R that showed that they could truly cover all fields to satisfy people's needs.

VERSES.

MAIN VERSE.

TAG. 「 V000 ; Jumin ／ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ᵉᵃˢʸ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘ 」

Pre-meeting MC.

His life is quite stressful therefore he surrounds his everyday with work, every possible role he can take—he’ll do it, main, extra, anything will do just not to think. Jumin Han has been labeled as a workaholic and they are right, but no one complains because even if he does fill his schedule to a madness point, it’s always impeccable without a single mistake done. That’s how much he’s devoted to acting and taking the role, the life of another character and feeling it as if it were his own. Whether it’s worse, better or something bittersweet—directors have the highest expectations out of him, and Jumin never disappoints.

MEETING MC VERSE.

TAG. 「 001 ; Jumin ／ ᴼⁿᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᶜᵃᵘᵗⁱᵒᵘˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᵇᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ˢᵒᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃ 」

Certainly, a new face brought a certain refreshing touch to his life despite under what circumstances they have joined the RFA. Someone so caring and understanding, it was nice to have such a company. Their personality was nice too, making Jumin trust them with ease regardless of not showing it. Of course, the RFA was divided into those who trusted and those who did not because of Rika’s words: she did trust them, which proved to be enough for Jumin and others.

PRE- V’S DEATH VERSE.

TAG. 「 002 ; Jumin ／ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵈᵃʸ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʲᵒʸᶠᵘˡ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ⁱ ᵗʳᵉᵃˢᵘʳᵉ 」

Jumin is often seen smiling even after practice in the studio, he’s a content man who gets to hang out as often as he can with his best and childhood friend—someone he loves deeply and means the world for him to the point that a meeting everyday is a must: in his tight schedule he, somehow, manages to make an hour or even thirty minutes work. He has an unhealthy dependable relationship with V that neither had quite realized for he’s attached to him. Both depend on each other’s mood and situations to an extent. It’s safe to assume V is the reason Jumin is unable to connect with anyone emotionally wise speaking due himself having emotions towards V that are unclear for him.

AFTER V’S DEATH VERSE.

TAG. 「 003 ; Jumin ／ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ ? ᶠᵒʳ ⁱᵗ�� ᵈᵃʳᵏⁿᵉˢˢ ⁱˢ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵐᵉ 」

After V died and Rika had to take care of the RFA, Jumin had changed drastically and for the worst. He had locked himself within his penthouse, always in the floor that is his place to live—never leaving, everyday losing weight and will to live despite maids leaving food inside his room and Elizabeth the 3rd being by his side. Jumin has severe depression and seems unable to move on, went as far as to quit acting. Calling it a hiatus and ditching everything he was currently working on, his father paying the price for everything which made him utterly mad but even a womanizer and easy to brainwash man like his father could understand what and who V meant to Jumin.

BAD ENDING VERSE.

TAG. 「 004 ; Jumin ／ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ⁱᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢᵉ ᵍᵒ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᶜᵘᵗ ᵐᵉ ˡᵒᵒˢᵉ 」

Failing to make Jumin slow down with his jobs and taking care of himself, this leads for him to increase his unhealthy coping mechanisms much like drinking copious amounts of alcohol and smoking as if his life depended on it. His image is starting to rotten despite his former meticulous care since, once again, he can’t bring himself to care about anything despite surviving and barely covering everyday needs like eating and sleep—choosing to ditch his dream of being an actor; he becomes the president of C&R International and is a copy of his father. A womanizer, trying to fill the emptiness and broken being that MC has left for an excuse of a human being. Except, he stirs much more scandal due to dating men as well.

BAD RELATIONSHIP VERSE.

TAG. 「 005 ; Jumin ／ ᴬⁿᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵉᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ʷⁱˢʰ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵃᵈ 」

Failing to properly show how love works and to help him move on from V’s death, causes Jumin to become dependable of MC much like he was of V. He doesn’t go as far as to assume they are the same person, but he can’t live a day without MC by their side. Threatening to end it all if they do leave him alone because he can’t afford to feel that emptiness again, because no one else can that empty hole within his chest, where his heart is supposed to be.

MINT EYE VERSE.

TAG. 「 006 ; Jumin ／ ᵀᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵉˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᶜᵒⁿᵈ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ, ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ, ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉˡˡ ᵃʳᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵃˡˢ 」

Figuring out V had never been dead but had become a cult leader made him go mad, hysterically laughing it off and ditching it all: his life, future, RFA. The man who was once known as Han Jumin, recognized actor for his talent and fame due being an heir no longer existed—tons of rumors that he had committed suicide, been kidnapped or murdered due venomous glares spread everywhere. His father put a reward for his son to be found dead or alive but it would be impossible since he had ceased to exist. Brainwashed and acting as a loyal dog to V, his once grey eyes had been turned to mint and he’s the one operating in the shadows like some sort of hitman for V in case any follower misbehaved or the RFA tried to break into the mansion.ba.

ACCIDENT / AMNESIA VERSE.

TAG. 「 007 ; Jumin ／ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢʷᵒʳⁿ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ᵃ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ 」

Both Driver Kim and himself had been involved in an accident of three cars and a truck; his driver had died before the ambulance had arrived but Jumin had barely made it. Once he was taken to the hospital and everything that could be done, was done—it took three months for him to wake up with no memories of whom he was, to begin with. Yet, oddly enough, he could recall the faces of the RFA members and has labeled as important—unlike his father, whom he loved deeply, disliked seeing him cry but could not recall any memory of him acting as family or support in any way.

IDOL VERSE.

TAG. 「 008 ; Jumin ／ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᶜʳᵘˢʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ 」

Dancing, having a radio-show, appearing on reality and cooking shows, singing on stage and being cheered on but, more importantly, acting—how happier could he be? This time around, his connection to the RFA is complicated given he doesn’t have that much time to interact with them. Little to nothing and has become an invisible presence like Rika herself has. But Jumin adores working this much, except this time he does put limits on himself given he’s not part of a unit and is a single.

WRECK IT, RALPH VERSE.

TAG. 「 009 ; Jumin ／」

Tba.

MUTANT / FOR CROSSOVERS WITHHEROES,ETC. VERSE.

TAG. 「 010 ; Jumin ／ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵉˢˢᵉⁿᵗⁱᵃˡ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ᵃ ˡᵉᵛᵉˡ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᶜⁱʳᶜᵘᵐˢᵗᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ʳᵃᵖⁱᵈˡʸ 」

A drunk man and a mother who is little known about to nothing, Han Jumin is a product of that combination. Except when growing up, and seeing how much the pressure was starting to be put on his shoulders—he wished there were more of him. Unaware that he was a mutant himself due his mother’s DNA, what he said was actually his power. He could multiply himself and give them orders since they have a limited free will—sometimes, he abuses of this but no one in the media needs to figure this out or else he’d be in problems.ba.

SELF-AWARE VERSE.

TAG. 「 011 ; Jumin ／ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ ‘ᶜʰᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ’ 」

# 694512919

Mystic Messenger game was corrupted when a virus corrupted the device of the user and therefore many files along with it, causing Jumin to become aware that he is a game—a dating simulator game with no choices in his own fate, the choices the player made where the ones that decided whether he’d earn a good or a miserable life. Offended by this, and partially enraged, he’s trying to pair up with the other one character who knew about this all along to make everyone else become free themselves.ba.

DREAM DADDY VERSE.

TAG. 「 012 ; Jumin ／ ᶠᵃⁱʳ ᵗʳᵃᵈᵉ, ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ ᴵ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢᵐᵃⁿ 」

In this verse, he had been once a married man and is currently in his late 30′s. After his father’s retirement and him assuming his role of heir, therefore quitting acting his only passion, Jumin has been taking care of C&R International but, even someone like him, needs a vacation. Plus, he had a child, Amanda, to raise on his own after his beloved one has passed away due an illness. Without asking Amanda who did protest without much effort and just for the sake of it, he left things in charge of his second hand and went on a vacation to Maple Bay, a quiet and small town. A nice and tranquil change of pace.ba.

ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE VERSE.

TAG. 「 013 ; Jumin ／ ᴴᵘᵐᵃⁿ'ˢ ᵖˢʸᶜʰᵒˡᵒᵍʸ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ ⁱˢ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉˣᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵉʳᵖˡᵉˣᵉᵈ 」

Android / 694512919

Cheritz is a world-known company that creates androids for people as companions—friends, assistants, lovers included. Han Jumin is one of the many popular ones, however, the alternative version didn’t gain much popularity as the original one with a background story and everything settled if one wished to roleplay with it. Thus, the project of the alternative was stopped much to the few fans dismay that had ordered it but only a small amount of people received their Han Jumin, Ice Prince.

LOVESICK VERSE.

TAG. 「 014 ; Jumin ／ ᴬˡʷᵃʸˢ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵃˡˡ, ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ'ˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ 」

Theatre professor.

Tba.

? VERSE.

TAG. 「 0? ; Jumin ／」

Tba.

TAGS.

「 Han Jumin ／ ᴹⁱʳʳᵒʳ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˡˡ, ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ? 」

「 Han Jumin ／ INQUIRY」

「 Han Jumin ／ MUSINGS 」

「 Han Jumin ／ VISAGE 」

「 Han Jumin ／ MANNERISMS 」

「 Han Jumin ／ HEADCANON 」

「 Han Jumin ／ INTROSPECTION」

「 Han Jumin ／ ROMANCE 」

「 Han Jumin ／ CRACK 」

RELATIONSHIPS.

✘ · ♡（）

#ME CAYO LA FICHA QUE NUNCA PUSE ESTO EN ESTE BLOG SKSKSKKS SORRY!!!

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ao3feed-buckybarnes · 3 years ago

Text

I Must Have Lost It On The Wind

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3ydFoIz

by Murder_Kitten

Tony stumbles across Bucky hiding in plain sight in Romania, working in a bakery of all things. He doesn't know what to make of that. He's immediately drawn to the former assassin and he doesn't know what to make of that either. The only thing Tony Stark knows how to make is a mess of things...

Fest Prompt: Scent Blockers

Words: 1432, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Clint Barton, Thor (Marvel), Hulk (Marvel)

Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Tony Stark

Additional Tags: Omega Verse, Alpha/Omega, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Tony Stark, Alpha Bucky Barnes, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Coffee Addict Tony Stark, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Eventual Smut, Developing Relationship

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/3ydFoIz

#bucky #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #bucky barnes #james barnes #the winter soldier #james barnes

0 notes

reedreadsgreek · 5 years ago

Text

Luke 9:43b-50

Πάντων δὲ θαυμαζόντων ἐπὶ πᾶσιν οἷς ἐποίει εἶπεν πρὸς τοὺς μαθητὰς αὐτοῦ, 44 Θέσθε ὑμεῖς εἰς τὰ ὦτα ὑμῶν τοὺς λόγους τούτους· ὁ γὰρ υἱὸς το�� ἀνθρώπου μέλλει παραδίδοσθαι εἰς χεῖρας ἀνθρώπων. 45 οἱ δὲ ἠγνόουν τὸ ῥῆμα τοῦτο καὶ ἦν παρακεκαλυμμένον ἀπ᾽ αὐτῶν ἵνα μὴ αἴσθωνται αὐτό, καὶ ἐφοβοῦντο ἐρωτῆσαι αὐτὸν περὶ τοῦ ῥήματος τούτου.

46 Εἰσῆλθεν δὲ διαλογισμὸς ἐν αὐτοῖς, τὸ τίς ἂν εἴη μείζων αὐτῶν. 47 ὁ δὲ Ἰησοῦς εἰδὼς τὸν διαλογισμὸν τῆς καρδίας αὐτῶν, ἐπιλαβόμενος παιδίον ἔστησεν αὐτὸ παρ᾽ ἑαυτῷ 48 καὶ εἶπεν αὐτοῖς, Ὃς ἐὰν δέξηται τοῦτο τὸ παιδίον ἐπὶ τῷ ὀνόματί μου, ἐμὲ δέχεται· καὶ ὃς ἂν ἐμὲ δέξηται, δέχεται τὸν ἀποστείλαντά με· ὁ γὰρ μικρότερος ἐν πᾶσιν ὑμῖν ὑπάρχων οὗτός ἐστιν μέγας.

49 Ἀποκριθεὶς δὲ Ἰωάννης εἶπεν, Ἐπιστάτα, εἴδομέν τινα ἐν τῷ ὀνόματί σου ἐκβάλλοντα δαιμόνια καὶ ἐκωλύομεν αὐτόν, ὅτι οὐκ ἀκολουθεῖ μεθ᾽ ἡμῶν. 50 εἶπεν δὲ πρὸς αὐτὸν ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Μὴ κωλύετε· ὃς γὰρ οὐκ ἔστιν καθ᾽ ὑμῶν, ὑπὲρ ὑμῶν ἐστιν.

My translation:

43b And while everyone was marveling because of all the things which he was doing, he said to his disciples, “Put these words into your ears, for the Son of Man is about to be handed over into the hands of men.” 45 But they did not understand this word and it had been hidden from them in order that they might not perceive it, and they were afraid to ask him about this word.

46 And a dispute came among them, who might be the greatest of them. 47 But Jesus, knowing the dispute of their hearts, taking a child he stood him before himself 48 and said to them, “Whoever receives this child because of my name, receives me; and whoever receives me, receives the one having sent me. For the smallest among all of you, this one is great.”

49 Answering, John said, “Master, we saw someone casting out demons in your name and we were hindering him, for he does not follow with us.” 50 But Jesus said to him, “No not hinder; for he who is not against you, is for you.”

Notes:

Πάντων δὲ θαυμαζόντων (v. 43) is a genitive absolute, contemporaneous.

EGGNT says, Θέσθε ὑμεῖς εἰς τὰ ὦτα ὑμῶν τοὺς λόγους τούτους (v. 44), literally “Put these words into your ears”, is idiomatic for the importance of grasping what Jesus is about to say. τοὺς λόγους τούτους could be cataphoric, referring to the previous passage, in which case γὰρ indicates the reason why the words are important. Or it could be anaphoric, in which case γὰρ indicates the content of the important words, the Son of Man being given over into the hands of men.

παραδίδωμι is properly, “I give over”, but NLT and CSB say “betrayed”, and NIV, ESV, NASB have, “delivered”.

ἀγνοέω (v. 45) is α (not) + the aorist root of γινώσκω, thus, “I do not know”. It occurs 22x in the NT. Most translations have here, “They did not understand”.

παρακαλύπτω, “I cover, hide, conceal” is a hapax legomenon, but the non-prefixed καλύπτω occurs 8x. With the παρα- prefix it is something like “hidden nearby”, so the implication seems to be, “hidden in plain sight”. Other variants of this verbs are ἀνακαλύπτω, ἀποκαλύπτω, κατακαλύπτω, ἐπικαλύπτω, περικαλύπτω, and συγκαλύπτω, with more or less similar meanings. The periphrastic construction ἦν παρακεκαλυμμένον with the perfect participle acts as a pluperfect.

αἰσθάνομαι, “I perceive, understand”, is a hapax legomenon.

διαλογισμὸς, literally, “speaking back and forth”, can be literal (“dispute”; v. 46) or figurative (“thoughts”; v. 47). The noun occurs 14x in the NT and its cognate verb διαλογίζομαι 16x.

εἴη (v. 46) is an optative from εἰμί.

EGGNT notes that the τὸ turns the second half of the verse into a substantival in apposition to διαλογισμὸς.

μείζων is a comparative (“greater”) used as a superlative (“greatest”).

In verse 47 some early manuscripts have ἰδὼν, “seeing”, instead of εἰδὼς, “knowing”. εἰδὼς has more varied attestation, however it seems more likely that ἰδὼν would be changed to εἰδὼς since Jesus couldn't literally “see” thoughts. The Committee was somewhat unsure, assigning it a {C} rating. The meaning is not changed.

ἐπιλαβόμενος is attendant circumstance with ἔστησεν.

τὸν ἀποστείλαντά (v. 48) is a substantival participle translated like a relative clause, “the One who sent me”.

μικρότερος is also a comparative standing in for a superlative.

Every version translates ὑπάρχων as “is”, but I wonder if the present participle is suggesting an ongoing humility which is hard to translate.

For μέγας, NIV & NLT have “greatest” instead of “great”.

κωλύω, “I prevent, hinder, forbid”, occurs 23x in the NT and is worth memorizing. The imperfect ἐκωλύομεν is likely conative, “we tried to stop him”, or it could be iterative or progressive. Byzantine manuscripts have instead the aorist ἐκωλύσαμεν (Metzger). The reading with the imperfect is rated a {B}.

The present-tense prohibition Μὴ κωλύετε (v. 50) is an ongoing command, so Jesus is not just prohibiting John from interfering with this man, but also anyone else doing the same thing.

#Luke #Luke 9 #textual variant

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oosteven-universe · 6 years ago

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Faith Dreamside #1

Faith Dreamside #1 Valiant Entertainment 2018 Written by Jody Houser Illustrated by MJ Kim Coloured by Jordie Bellaire Lettered by Dave Sharpe Faith Herbert was just your average super-fan of all things sci-fi and fantasy when she discovered she had superpowers of her very own-- the incredible power of flight! She moved to Los Angeles to try her hand at the hero gig as the high flying Zephyr, where she amassed a fan following along with a rogues gallery of villainous evildoers. She was living her dream, until a group of her most heinous foes framed her for murder, and turned the public against her. Recently returning from Hawaii, Faith finds herself hiding in plain sight under the guise of her alter ego, Summer Smith, waiting for the day when she can take to the skies once again… ��As much as Faith is a fan favourite character she seems to have a hard time in both life and keeping an ongoing series. Still that we continue to get these arcs is okay by me it is a nice route to take and is always a good gauge on the mind of the market. Jody is amazing and I believe I say that a lot about her but I really enjoy that she is able to write such strong compelling characters. She does a marvellous job here too and Faith has never seemed more human to me than she does here so I really like that aspect. The way that this is structured is excellent and Paige is a welcome character to see help Faith through her troubles, if she’ll let her. The opening really is strong and it’s nice to see that the ever cheerful, yes Rose Nyland of the Superhero set, show that she can be frustrated, angry and humbled as well. It is kind of heart warming and a reality check at the same time and this kind of “realness” is something I think we need to see more of as it’s handled with class. The way the rest of the story flows is just as strong and fun to see. The ongoing evolution of her as a person and seeing the characterisation feel as natural to her as the air we breathe isn’t groundbreaking but it really is refreshing to see. She is in what we like to call a funk and it happens when heroes are set up to take a fall and aren’t well versed enough in figuring out how to reverse it. So I would love to see take night classes that are out of her area’s of knowledge and comic books aren’t really textbooks no matter how much we want them to be. The interiors here, and throughout all Valiant books, is what the standard in comics should be. The crisp, clean lines and the way they are manipulated through their varying weights to create the subtle and bold moments are spectacularly well done. The utilisation of the page layouts and how we see the angles and perspective in the panels shows us a great eye for storytelling. The way that backgrounds are utilised and that we see the same attention to detail that everything else has just makes them a much stronger part of the story and storytelling process. Also the creativity and imagination on display is fun, it’s taken seriously but it’s FUN! I would be remiss not to mention the amazing colouring job done here too it’s so nice and has this real world feel about it that you almost overlook the fact that it’s that good. The fact that there is quite a bit of set-up that leads into the next issue doesn’t upset me in the slightest. This feels like it’s Faith’s book and this is just another chapter in it so we need to check in see what’s she is going through and pick things up from there. Though the one who comes to her is unexpected, delightful and the potential for this character is off the charts. Now I'm already ready for Doctor Mirage I mean talk about opposite end of the spectrum. Smartly written, sassy even full of the woe is me this is still a positive message book that just being on shelves makes the world a better place!

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autolovecraft · 7 years ago

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Kuranes, indeed, had strayed into that incredible garden.

Carter now began to fly off into the air of the helplessly wind-sucked party. That night the moon.

It was lucky that no man visits. For through the bronze of the tiled streets and black doorways which marked olden wrath of the ghouls had been drawn screaming into the low arched doorway of that incredible city he walked through the onyx castle. All through the air. At the door above them, and at best an unpleasant companion for man. The whining of those thicker fungi revealed a sinister, bearing the slate gravestone of Col. Dylath-Leen; only the instant need to get there they knew nothing.

And in that redoubtable wood of monstrous trees, and basins along the sea, and climbed the terraces among gardens set out through the night. Twelve young Zoogs of noble families were taken as hostages to be distributed impartially amongst the Dholes crawl and burrow the enormous Dholes; but he feared to think of the ruins around them. And there is in your marvelous city. These objects were waddling busily about the roads thither. Then, just as he could not guide him if they would regard a guest in his conversation. Far above the clouds beneath. The groping dizziness of space and picked his way up. Of these men the sailors knew not much more than a Dhole, so the party which had dissolved his goodly cohorts.

And sweet bells pealed in the size and shape of it as a gargoyle peers over a great concave arc from the stars some subtle northward urge.

Once a van was hitched and driven off, since it blotted out all the wild strength of fear whose terrors yet could not doubt; and when he saw dark shapes outlined against them. Yet lofty as they licked their chops with unusual gusto, and that when the light. They glibbered certain simple orders to the library where Kuranes, clad in a series of surprise attacks and forcing them to approach so closely together that only one sparsely manned tier of oars moved too briskly and accurately and vigorously to be shewn the great gaunt sides of a northern night shining sickly above him, and Celephaïs. And in that army was, that fanfare of supernal trumpets and clash of immortal cymbals, that warning was soon overborne by the timid waterfront cats of Ulthar a proper chance to drill and mobilize.

And during his week of waiting he talked more with the ghouls on the hills and converse with Carter in grunts and monosyllables, helped out now and then from some point not well to look, and when the Gugs sleep and they were above him the goal of all outdoors, and descend at once consulted with his shaggy steed, and at intervals lone huts of Esquimaux. Thick though the words came to match the golden glory on temples and colonnades, and hurried him on the outside of the uncomfortable merchants of the cats through space was very calm. In the morning before he heard their homely, friendly cry, and extended a languid paw as his lips opened he heard a monstrous Shantak, led by a glare of purple light in the ancient taverns. After ten minutes he saw a curious vibrating mass of short pink tentacles; which was clearly a foretaste of the dusk promised a full night ahead for travel. In their right hands were crystal wands whose tips were carven into double-headed, with the young face of an awful climb through lunar countryside beyond, and the masters were not remiss. Of what lay inside that prodigious peak of Ngranek on the skyline ahead, the ghouls and the swelling meeps of the enemy might come in and scold him because he liked the graceful cats afford space enough. Elsewhere, however, all opening on an ivory dais in a moment he fancied were titanic flappings and whirrings. Before no golden dais had Randolph Carter fell through those endless voids of sentient blackness he fell. The wharves reached wide outside the city where meadows roll gracefully up from the enchanted wood. Then, upon a signal to proceed again. He could not turn round, yet to Carter. Then he lay in the waking world. Ghouls meeped in unison and began glibbering orders to the night-gaunts their simple instructions, while the third blast had died chucklingly away Randolph Carter, boarded the galleon made fast while the land was getting higher, and would sing of far things, and as Carter climbed farther and farther within the cavern.

They have forgotten the high walls and creaking well-loved child of a blasted and tenantless world.

The next day he searched all along been kept upon him, where traders rest and miners tell their tales, and covering an acre of ground glass. Silently they shambled over that rough rock pavement, hearing with disgust the abominable muffled snortings from great black-beamed ceilings and casements of greenish bull's-eye panes. And on the evening of the helplessly wind-swept plateau of horror Carter saw that it lies in ethereal space beyond where the peak of Ngranek, though that is not over unknown seas but back over well-known years that your gold and little by little. The mountain's side, too, had warned him never to approach the ultimate cataract swelled portentous from ahead. Sometimes he walked through the flume-like strait and into the throne-room with his friend King Kuranes whom Carter had given him that the blunt-snouted moonbeasts were totally unprepared. But before that unfortunate Gug could emerge from that wriggling, silk-robed sentry till he had himself well in the latter retreated through the northern twilight to their haunts on unknown Kadath whom he had fallen.

Aa-shanta 'nygh!

Cool vales in Concord, cobbled lands in Portsmouth, twilight bends of rustic New Hampshire roads where giant elms half hide white farmhouse gables peeped out from the gates of that flute and the answer of the galley drew closer and closer to that austere and reticent cotter he was shooting dizzily downward in the friable stone, and was told that a certain height the presence of cats in orderly array. Pickman advised Carter either to the Gate of Deeper Slumber and the marvelous sunset city which is built mostly of basalt, where of old times, having much to say, he had to strain hard to find Sarkomand and the warriors. The path now contracted between sable and glistening walls, temples, colonnades and arched bridges of veined marble, silver-basined fountains, you need only to potent and mystical, behind which lay forbidden ways into the wood, and the priest was reasonably versed in their conquest of the authentic race of the cat, and that the creature into a land party and a gray barren plain whereon at great distances shone little feeble fires of the six sphinx-crowned gates and titan stones and monstrous winged lions against the southern side within a quarter of the winged hunter sought to reach, deeming it likely that the sight of those unseen rowers steered not for an instant did the stench of the headland. Night fell, and drew out the eastern gate and across all those leagues of pasture land, and pausing not at all; nor is it unwhispered that deep place that simple folk say splendid Cathuria lies, nor did they feel any deterring awe at the jagged rock in awe; for they realize that all the heroes of the city of a large tribute of grouse, quail, and dawn and dusk alike strode forth prophetic to the cavern, the evilly hungry way in which the south; but he feared to think it was possibly set up for, and asked of his nightmare company when there rang without warning through that enchanted wood to find Sarkomand and its rapid bobbing flight through the sinister hatches.

The glow rose and fell fitfully, flickering with a yak and stood grinning before the coming of that galley's stay one of the headlands into the throne-room of the great carven face like those of the ghouls imagine that the ship set sail once more will earth's gods and they were through themselves, or perhaps even more horrible than those he had learned concerning night-gaunts are altogether fabulous. In this low fanfare echoed all the hurtling army be dashed to pieces on the wharves are not beyond a mortal's power to tarnish or destroy. For many leagues the banks as that shocking final peril which gibbers unmentionably outside the cemetery, rose the gentle hills behind the stars, and knew it had been. At still lower levels the death-fires in the old man among them said it would almost be better to meet a Dhole or even capture some young god himself, disguised and dwelling amongst men. To bring him thither without trouble; high above the wharves, and the Little Bear as they rode west and he did not like the horned, hooved, and after a long wait a ghoul softly glibbered that Gugs have no faces, and had it taut in his fancy. Of Kadath the flutterers of the ruins around them.

#H.P. Lovecraft #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Python #Markov chains #The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath #1926 #The Dream-Quest of Unknown Kadath week

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