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bohemiandeer · 9 months ago

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You know what hits me hard? When 5 to 6 year old children, all the way in Southeast Asia, knows about what's happening in Palestine right now. That children their age is getting bombed, that they're starving to death, that they're getting shot at, and sniped in the head. Because, just this past 2 or so months, I heard some of the little ones in the Kindergarten classes I'm TAing in as an Intern talk about it. Hell, one of the little boys downright said he didn't like Israel, because Israel is bad, because they do scary things. Another was questioning whether Palestine was bad too, because, "why else would they shooting at them?". A little girl in one of my classes doesn't want to finish her food at all, because she wants to save at least half her meat and rice for kids in Palestine, because she heard that, they don't have food. And that's just the ones I remember. Namely the inciting cases before their classmates slowly follow suit. The littles are fricking SCARED. We had to sit these kids down, and tell them that the topic is too mature for them at the moment, that they shouldn't even be concerned because they're KINDERGARTNERS, they're not even old enough to properly understand. The one teacher I was TAing for had to make a class announcement saying that. What gets me is, these are 5 to 6 year olds, the youngest I've worked with in this specific age group is 4. 5 years old on average, and they've already been exposed to the worst horrors genocide has to offer through the news and snippets of conversation among adults and hell, considering how many of them say they like to play games on Mama's phone, or their IPad, even from fricking social media. And the fact that, these literal babies, from all the way in Cambodia, has more empathy in their entire body and soul, than full grown fricking adults have in the nail of their pinky finger, gets me. FFS we as adults could LEARN from them I feel sometimes. I honestly don't know what to feel about it anymore. On the one hand, this is the next generation I'm working with. And if the next generation's default response to a tragedy such as Palestine, is what I've seen come up on occasion so far? Perhaps there's some bloody hope for this world after all. At least in this country. Especially since a majority of them already come from families who survived a genocide. These are the 3rd - 4th generation descendants of those who survived the Khmer Rouge. They've got grandparents at home, who no doubt are more than intimately familiar with what Palestine is going through right now. And it shows.

But on the other, it makes my heart sink because these are CHILDREN, these are LITTLE KIDS, they should be playing with their toys and watching cartoons and talking to their friends about everything from Spiderman to Speakerman to Kuromi and her friends, and be worried about whether or not they can go to playground that day, guranteed they're well behaved, or if Mama remembered to pack in their costume for swimming lessons that week. NOT JUST MY KIDS. But the little ones in Palestine too. They deserve better. They all deserve, so much better. Hell, it's come to the point that whenever I look at my kiddos right now, whether they'd be working in class, playing, doing something as mundane as eating lunch or getting ready for their nap. I think of the children their age in Palestine that didn't even get the chance to survive. I think of the ones whose memories from this age, is nothing but absolute horror and pain, rather than what has slowly become my normal, who never got to experience what my littles do on a daily basis right now.

Children shouldn't even be concerned about "War", about a Genocide. The last thing that should be on a 5 year old's mind, is pain, and suffering, and the worst horrors imaginable ever to be inflicted on a human being. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT'S INFLICTED, ON OTHER CHILDREN THEIR AGE. And for that alone, the world has failed them. Especially the kids in Palestine who didn't ask for any of this. They just wanted to carry on with life as kids do, the same way as my littles do on a daily basis no doubt, learning, playing, chatting with friends over their favourite cartoons and characters, worrying about whether they'd get to go to the playground or not that day.

I apologize for talking about this on this blog. I know my blog tends to be lighter in feel, a lot more unhinged and light hearted typically. I mean, I'm just a fricking nerd who likes to draw and write, and lurk about her favourite fandoms to consume and support what is shared among other nerds who also like to draw and write. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. About contemplating it, especially since I'll be back on a roll tomorrow, working with my kiddos again after not seeing them for 5 days straight because of Holidays. And, I just had to talk about it. This is something I felt I couldn't keep to myself this time, I don't think my soul'd be able to carry it. I had to talk about it.

FREE PALESTINE. Our children deserve better.

#free palestine #gaza #palestine #rafah #israel #current events #gaza strip #human rights #childrens rights #save the children #cease fire in gaza #cease fire now #cease fire permanently #palestinian genocide #support gaza #pray for palestine #ceasfire now

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lalunanymph · 1 year ago

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꒰ nanami is forced to put his sweet wife back in her place (under him) ꒱

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── fem!reader, wife!reader, ceo!reader, lifestyle dom!nanami, househusband!nanami, brat taming, hair pulling, overstimulation, sir kink, restraints, finger gagging, nipple play, use of vibrators, chair bondage, reader gets spanked, fear of cheating, unprotected s[e]x, collaring, oral s[e]x, kento mentions divorce playfully, nanami slaps his c*ck on reader's face and tongue, degradation, pet names (baby, little slut, love, darling, good girl), aftercare

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 ─── 5k+ words because of mappa’s horniness they made him so big and beefy what did you expect me to do

“Fuck, baby, that’s a good girl.”

Your husband’s scratchy moan is followed by a tug to your hair. He’s got your locks in his firm, veiny grip, using it to guide your mouth up and down his flushed cock like you were nothing but a human fleshlight made just for him.

The kitchen clock ticks and you’re on your knees, still in your office blazer and figure-hugging skirt.

It was usually customary for you to greet your husband like this—like he’s pure treasure and deserves your devotion on these marbled tiles.

They were the same ones you bought with your twelve-month bonus, right when the company you spearheaded burst into the tech scene and started raking in the billions.

Through it all, Nanami Kento was with you, building your home while you changed the world.

More than anything, he was the rock which kept you from falling apart.

But, if they could see you now… how your mouth was slicked with a mixture of cum and spit and your eyes were woozy with bliss, they couldn’t tell that you were the same woman who once fired three directors on account of an embezzlement accusation.

He pulled you off his flushed tip, those chiselled cheeks dusted with pink. Reacting like this, he was nothing more than an enamoured husband adoring his wife on her knees. But, you had been bad to him today, and bad girls didn’t deserve what they wanted. They needed to be put back in their place.

Nanami tugged you up higher, enough to have you balancing on the slivers of your shins. His mouth found yours, insistent and hot with his lustful intention.

“Do you want your collar, baby?” His mouth was a stroke away from yours, warm breath caressing your tongue.

You nodded, not trusting your voice to break. The planes of your husband’s defined chest shook in a soft laugh as he let go of your hair—for now.

“Go and grab it, sweetheart. I'll wait for you.”

You did as he said, standing up on shaky legs that were riddled with pins and needles. He steadied you, looking ridiculously handsome even with his half-chub out and tiny pink apron still on. Nanami was just a man who could make even a trash bag work.

You stumbled into the bedroom, going straight for a drawer that was shut tightly. Using the key next to your perfume stand, you unlocked it, removing a smooth, dark leather strap with the words ‘Kento’s girl’ embedded into it with diamonds.

You heard your husband come back into the room, his body pressed behind yours as he took the collar from your shaking hands. Pushing your hair aside, he fastened it around your neck with a kiss to your earlobe.

“Shall we go back to what we were doing earlier?”

You slid back into your knees in response, shuffling to face him again. Those dark eyes appraised you with pride, tinged with an even darker possession.

“Always so pretty for me,” he hummed. “Aren’t you, my little slut?”

A dirty thrill shot down your spine, and you parted your mouth open on instinct. “Yes, Sir.”

Kento chuckled, giving his hard-hard cock a few pumps before nursing it back into your mouth. You sucked on the tip, tasting his musk and salt. Hollowing your cheeks, you took him deeper, till he hit the back of your throat, and whatever else you couldn’t fit, you fisted around the base of his cock to work it up and down.

Your husband hissed out a curse, and wound your hair back into his tight grip, watching you suck him off with barely concealed wonder. “Doing so good for me, love,” he murmured, a sharp tug on the nape of your neck making you wince and your pussy flood your red lace thong. “And to think you were just mouthing off to me earlier.”

You squirmed on your knees, needing to touch between your legs to ease the flame of desire only your husband could burn.

Kento used his sheer strength to pull you off his cock, and as if still punishing you, he slapped the tip of his fat dick onto your cheeks, coaxing your mouth open so he could do the same thing on your tongue. You didn’t complain, glad to be used as a stress reliever for your husband.

Pre-cum smeared your cheeks and spit was glossing your chin when you took him back down your throat again, this time with more urgency.

Kento was breathing deeper, his half-hooded eyes almost closing from your talented mouth. No one could suck cock as well as his wife could, and he would stand firm in that.

Your sheer hunger and eagerness blew everyone else out of the water, the devotion only you showed him shaping his unshakable love for you.

It's just too bad you had unintentionally insulted him where it hurt the most.

“Do you think you’re forgiven because I let you suck my cock?”

Before you could answer, you were wrenched off his dick, pushed back into your knees. Your cry of indignation was stopped when he shoved two thick fingers down your throat, gagging you with a wet choke.

You worked hard to please him—to apologise to him because you didn’t mean those words; they were just a product of a stressful day.

It’s not like you understand what the fuck I’m going through, Kento. You’re just a househusband who spends all day cleaning!

Careful, those dark eyes had narrowed at you. Do you want to repeat that, darling?

I said—

But, he never gave you a chance to finish.

As if remembering your painful words, Kento grunted, bringing you to your feet just so he could spread you face down, ass up onto your huge makeup counter. The mirror reflected back your desperate stare into your husband’s impassive face, his collar searing through your skin.

“Kento—“

Rough hands from days of labour pushed your skirt up, tugging your thong unceremoniously down your cheeks where the fabric burned against your sensitive skin. “Ah—!”

The first spank landed on your left globe, leaving a stinging pain on the tender flesh. He didn’t stop there—Kento viciously spanked your right cheek, then back to your left, alternating between them until you swore they were glowing hot like dying embers.

You were wincing and crying out softly, hair stuck to your temple and cheeks with sweat. The woman in the mirror had tears in her eyes, and her husband barely pay attention to her—just like how she had messed up and thought lowly of him for a split, disastrous second.

“I don’t know what you’re going through? Did you forget I used to be a salaryman, too, darling?”

His tone dripped with sardonic anger. Another spank, this time on your lower back. The tears broke down your face.

“I’m going to drill into that pretty head who owns you so you don’t mouth back to him. A househusband?” This hit was personal, right on your prickling left cheek. “Is that all you see me as? Do you think of me that lowly?”

Frustrated, Kento yanked your hair back at the same time he plunged two thick fingers into your glistening pussy.

“Oh—Kento!”

Your cry fell from your lax mouth, your eyes snapping close in ecstasy while he finger-fucked you roughly, tugging on your hair to deliver sharp prickles of torture down your spine.

The pain mixed with the pleasure till you couldn’t tell which one was which, your body spiraling closer and closer into delirium.

“Kento!” You sobbed, sure to have woken up the neighbors if your bedroom was soundproofed. “Oh, oh, ah—f-fuck, K-Kento, I-I—“

His forefinger was hitting that softest spot inside of you, and you ached to touch your clit to throw yourself down the agonizing high.

Without thinking it through, one hand drifted in between your thighs, and you managed about three shaky circles on your sensitive bud with your middle finger when Kento noticed and yanked your hand away. Your soft cry was muffled when he pushed your face into the hard word, breathing unsteadily.

“Who said you could touch yourself? Did I say you were given permission to?”

“N-No—“

But, Kento refused to listen to your excuses. “You’re misbehaving more and more tonight. I think I need to teach you an even bigger lesson.”

You could barely cry out a complaint when he manhandled you into his arms, bringing you back into the kitchen. Plopping you down onto the huge dining chair, he left you stewing in your thoughts, tense as to what he had next up his sleeve.

Nanami returned not a minute later with a pair of arm binders and leg cuffs, and your eyes widened when he immediately took your hands, placing them in the restrictive loop behind the chair. He worked on your legs next, fastening them to the wooden stems, while you continued to pathetically bleat apologies that rained on his deaf ears.

Once you were secured, Nanami took you in.

Everything about you was softness and seduction, and he couldn’t help but feel like he was the luckiest bastard alive. I love her, Kento’s eyes shone when you blinked up at him, all innocent and cute like you weren’t exposed in such a lewd way. I love her so very much.

“K-Ken,” you whined, shifting in your seat. The gesture unintentionally hiked your skirt further up your plush thighs.

As much as he loved you, Nanami had to put you back in your place—get you to respect him, even as his cock is raging to sink into your tight heat.

He tapped your cheek, a stern look emblazoned on his handsome face. “That is not what you’re allowed to call me.” His big hand wrapped around your neck, digging into your pulse point—restricting the breath from going down your airways. Asserting his point.

“Sir!” You managed to choke out. “S-Sir—”

Your wheeze turned into a cough when he let you go, your watery eyes looking up at him filled with nothing but remorse.

Nanami toyed with the idea of letting you go once the regret settled in, but the other half of him—that darker impulse which bludgeoned his Jujutsu years with bloodshed and violence—reared its head. It was the same sickly thrill he got whenever he beat up a curse and managed to squeeze in no more than an hour of overtime to get back home to you.

For your credit, you always let him exact his pent-up rage onto your willing body—never bending or breaking your resolve.

Even when he walks back into the bedroom to retrieve your most hated G-spot vibrator, or when he sank it almost lovingly into your waiting pussy, you could never hate your husband—even if he drove you half mad.

Nanami stared at his phone screen, connecting the vibrator to the app it came with. You could tell he was completely focused on breaking you, his eyes never straying when he adjusted the settings.

Soon, a pleasant hum goes off in between your thighs, and you toss your head back, a dulcet whimper leaving your lips and saturating the air with your pure neediness. Your husband doesn’t react beyond crossing his arms over his hulking chest, studying you with those intense darkened eyes you could go insane for.

The vibrator notch constantly rubbed on your G-spot, leaving your clit throbbing with abject neglect. You almost didn’t notice your husband pushing off the sleeves of your blazer, unbuttoning the crisp white dress shirt he had ironed this morning to expose the rise of your heaving tits covered in the red lacy bra he loved so much on you.

“You wore this today?” He fingered the lacy strap, and you hiccuped a stuttering y-yes. Your husband chuckled, easing down the cups so your nipples sprung forward, ready to be teased and touched. Kento hunched down next to you, his entirely bigger build almost draping across your lap as he ran his tongue over the rise of your plush flesh, growing closer and closer to your stiffening nipples. But, he never gave you what you wanted.

Everytime his tongue so much as grazed your areola, he would pull back, leaving you keening with disappointment. Your thighs were starting to shake, the constant pressure on such a susceptible spot slowly making you lose your mind. Without the stimulation Kento was selfishly withholding, you were sure you would be strung along for hours until he decided to show you mercy.

As it was, your husband was a stubborn man once he put his mind to something. You could barely think past the haze of your blurry thoughts, your mind filled with cotton when finally—finally—Kento sucked on your nipples. It was soft at first, barely any stimulation, but once he had a hit of you, Kento couldn’t stop. He suckled on your tits roughly, tonguing them harsh enough to make those sensitive buds throb.

Then, he bit down on them, eliciting a soft cry past your swollen lips. Your hips had basically taken on a life of their own, undulating minutely to the cruel game Kento played on your body.

Once you were on the precipice, needing just a bit more stimulation to topple over the edge, Kento pulled back. He stopped the vibrator with one tap on the screen, and you came crashing back down—body slumped against the chair.

“Sir,” you sobbed, unable to hold back those fat tears from chasing down your cheeks.

Nanami barely gave you time to adjust to the cresting sensations. He stood back up to his full height, toying with his phone and sliding his thumb pad across the screen. The same motions were replicated within the vibrator between your legs—the alternating softness and sudden vigorous overstimulation wrecking your body into dividing sensations.

You didn’t know whether to flinch or lean into the pleasure—whether to cry or to moan.

All you could do was let out a stream of weak Sir, please, oh—Sir, past your lax mouth, your body jerking like a puppet caught in the web of his control.

If it wasn’t enough to torture you, Kento wanted to tease you, too. He continuously pinched your hard nipples, flicking them up and down with the tip of his thumb to get them all perky and desperate for him.

He even knelt in between your thighs, looking up at you with those melting dark eyes while his thumb gently rubbed on your twitching clit. Your husband was doing everything in his power to get you to fold for him, and you were so close to putting aside your ego just to beg him to fuck you.

“S-Sir,” you sniffled.

Kento glanced up at you, noticing the tears beading your lash line. He swiped his thumb under one bulging tear, wiping it away.

In contrast to his filthy actions, his words were soft and sweet. “What do you want, darling?” he added, “Do you want to cum?”

You gave him a shaky nod.

“Do you think you deserve to cum?”

Disappointment curdled in your belly at his simple question. Kento was giving you a chance to apologise, and you could either take the high road and beg for his forgiveness, or let your bigheadedness keep you unsatisfied.

“I don’t,” you whispered, ducking your head in defeat. Kento hated to admit how a carnal wave of satisfaction curled right in his chest from your admission. “I was mean to you. Y-you did so much for me—” you lifted your hips, as if to alleviate the tense pleasure. “—I-I’m so sorry, Sir.”

His big hand smoothed down your belly, settling on your hip. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead tenderly. Instead of accepting your apology, he smeared your tears away with patient lips, trailing down kisses to your neck, his tongue running across the collar which held his claim on you.

“You’re forgiven, sweet girl,” your husband murmured, standing up to switch off the vibrator. You sagged back into the seat with a teary hiccup, peeling your glossy eyes on him so pathetically, his heart couldn’t help but squeeze. “Come on—let’s get you cleaned up.”

Kento removed your bindings, careful to help you stand up on your trembling legs. He held you close to his chest, rubbing those big, warm hands up and down your back to soothe your shuddering sobs. “There, there. You’re alright, baby. You’re fine.” He lifted you into his arms, careful to tuck your head on his shoulder as he carefully made his way back to the bedroom with you.

There, Nanami reverted back to his loving, devoted self—removing your blazer, dress shirt, and pencil skirt with reverence. He lifted your leg onto his shoulder, kissing your ankles before easing off your stockings smoothly. Once you were naked in front of him, it was his turn to undress.

Kento shed off the pink apron, removed his sweatpants and then his fitted cotton shirt, exposing his shredded torso lined with numerous thin, pale white scars. There was once he was afraid of showing them to you—his past bare for your fingers to trace. But, you loved kissing each and every mark left from wounds he could not explain to you. And Nanami was grateful.

He counted himself one of the luckiest sorcerers to make it out alive of that world and into a semi-normal one. He had a wife, a home, a decent car, plenty of time to unwind and relax—in short, he was living the dream he once saw as unattainable. And it was all thanks to you.

“Come here, baby.” Kento gathered you into his arms, careful to not put too much pressure on your sore butt. He traced your features, kissed your eyelids and cheeks until you stopped quietly sobbing, all wrung out and lying exhaustively on his chest. “Good girl—just take a deep breath and tell me what happened.”

His voice was a deep, enticing baritone, inciting goosebumps on your arms and putting your guard down. Your eyes slipped closed and you inhaled unsteadily, fingers digging into his shoulders.

“One of my executives found out her husband was cheating on her and she completely lost it at work today.”

Kento stopped stroking your shoulder. “What?”

You nodded, keeping your face buried in his chest to avoid meeting his eyes. “He was a… a stay-at-home husband, too. She trusted him with the nanny and—and that woman knew her kids inside and out. I was so disgusted. I… I thought that—”

“You thought that I would do the same thing to you?”

Nanami wasn’t an idiot. It wasn’t hard for him to piece two and two together—for him to see what was truly haunting you.

A minute of hesitation passed, and then, he felt you nod again.

Nanami’s shoulders relaxed, and he tightened his grip on your tinier body. “I love you so much, Y/N. You know that, right? You’re the best part of my life. I’m so grateful you chose to marry me.”

His sincerity stopped you up short. You peeked from past your curtain of hair, finding him smiling gently at you.

Perching half of your body up, you folded your arms on his chest, looking deeply into his eyes for the absolute truth. “If you ever fall out of love with me, Kento, please tell me. I won’t put up a fight if you want to leave me. Just don’t sneak around behind my back with someone else.”

How serious you looked, and those words… those words you spouted completely broke his heart. Kento’s expression fell, and he shook his head fiercely.

“You don’t get it, do you?”

With barely any grace, he rolled you onto the bed, spreading your thighs around his waist. His hips drove against yours, cock sheathing in one fluid motion into your waiting pussy. The both of you cursed and cried out at the same time, heads thrown back and desire coursing freely in this bedroom.

Nanami’s pace was brutal yet loving, his cock trying to bully into you what he had been desperately trying to show for the past few years you’ve both been blissfully married.

He loves you—he would do anything to make you happy because your happiness was his own.

“Nghh—Sir,” you whined, holding onto his biceps for dear life, trying hard not to fall around his cock without his permission. “Oh—oh, Kento, more, more—please, don’t stop—!”

He wasn’t planning to. If he could make you believe with his actions, Kento would keep at it until you finally accepted what he’d been feeling for all these years.

He smudged endless kisses onto your cheeks, nose and lips, each time tasting your desperation a bit more.

“Sir, can I please touch myself?”

How sweet—you were waiting for his permission. In answer, Nanami plucked your hand from your side, placing it right in between your legs, implicitly telling you to pleasure yourself while he ruined your world.

The both of you were hanging right on a thread, and the very second he felt your walls starting to melt around him, Kento pulled you in for a deep kiss, one which felt like it could break every resolve in your body. You became putty for him, dissolving into the kiss and his arms.

You broke the second you felt his hot cum paint your walls, every fibre of your soul screaming out your husband’s name. “Kento,” you whimpered in between sloppy kisses, your bodies slippery with sweat. “Kento—”

Nanami caught you the second you sagged into his arms. With his ludicrous strength and yet, his gentleness, he easily rolled you against his chest, letting you catch your breath on top of him. His lips found your temple and hair, large palms methodically massaging your sore muscles. He gripped your ass, squeezing fondly and unhurriedly, content to enjoy this moment with you.

When you had finally stilled and your breathing returned to normal, Kento whispered: “I love you, darling. You know that, right?”

Even with your raging insecurities, you couldn’t deny how sincere and sweet he sounded.

“I love you, too, Kento.”

Seriously now, he added: “And I won’t ever cheat on you because you’d take my car away first.”

You grinned, knowing that Nanami Kento was a man of his word and would never back down from it without a fight.

a/n: mappa made him so damn fuckable in the last ep as reparations for what they’re gonna do to him next im so sick

#nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you #jjk nanami #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #🦢 writes

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