how long does it take for your appeal to get through? 😭 it’s been a week & my blog is STILL flagged as mature. i’m a relatively newer blog so theres literally NO reason for anyone to be actively reporting my nsfw fics??? ( diff anon from the previous )
it can take a few days tbh but if they keep denying the appeal just continue appealing until it gets taken off :(
and maybe check the og email you got about the matter and see if it says it was a ‘user generated report’, that’s how u know for sure it was someone else that reported you 🕵️♀️ if it says something else then maybe it was their automated systems that caught on
girl how do u stop ur blog from getting flagged and put on mature 🥲🥲
i got it flagged once and whT worked for me is privating all my works before appealing , which eventually got the mature label taken off 😣 but if it happens often, someone probably keeps reporting you ????
[𝝑𝑒] ⠀::⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your boyfriend buys you a pretty golden necklace with his initials, not knowing it’ll only intensify the urge to claim you as his.
tags. olderbf!gojo satoru x gf!reader. smut, pwp. age gap (reader early 20’s, gojo early 30’s). possessive. breēding kink; crēampies. pregnancy kink? reader gets called ‘baby, sweetheart, mama’ :: wc. 1.7k :: ac. @/3-aem
“look at that, baby,” satoru coos as he watches the golden necklace bounce around your collarbone with each wet thrust. it’s a 24k gold necklace he bought just today, with his initials on it. a pretty damn expensive purchase.
something inside him stirred the moment he put it on you. satoru couldn’t help himself from pinning you to the couch and claiming you as his own for the nth time. it doesn’t matter how many times he fucks you; it’s never enough.
the letters ‘sg’ are shimmering under the light of the living room. he’s grinning from ear to ear, nearly cumming from the sight of you wearing that necklace alone. it’s a sign of possession to him.
you’re his—you’re only his. he’s the only one who can touch you like this.
“shit, ‘t makes me wanna put a ring on it,” satoru hisses, one of his hands pressing down on your lower tummy.
you gasp and clutch at his broad back, nails digging into his flesh quite painfully.
“i think i’d engrave my initials on the inside of the ring too, what do ya think?”
each word is punctuated with a thrust. his hips are non-stop ramming into yours, claiming even the deepest spots of your body beneath him. he leans down to trail kisses down your sensitive neck, eliciting a couple whines from your lips.
“d’y wanna get married, sweetheart?”
the sudden proposal takes you off guard. you can’t believe satoru would ask such a thing while being balls deep inside you. you’re blabbering nonsense, your voice muffled due to the saliva building up in your mouth.
“m— married? babe, are you ser-” your question is left unanswered as your boyfriend kisses your plump lips.
satoru switches to a slow and gentle pace, grinding into your needy cunt until it leaves you shaking. his fingers play with the golden jewelry around your neck.
a necklace will do. as long as you’ll wear that accessory from this day forward, he’ll be satisfied. the urge to make you his forever partner could be satiated. for now, that is.
he knows you still have a bright future ahead of you, like getting your degree and first ever proper job.
“let’s have you finish university first, yeah?” satoru smiles down at you after detaching his lips from yours.
he watches the string of saliva hang between your mouths, giving a short hum once it snaps. his big hand slithers down to cup your breast and knead it, kissing your nipple whilst holding eye contact, “i can wait for you.”
satoru sighs as he rolls his tongue around your hardened nipple. he’s drooling over your breasts, a drunken glint in his eyes. he’s so obsessed with you to the point that he’d marry you right now if he could. that proposal wasn’t really a joke—but he figured that it also wasn’t the smartest.
he’ll give you a proper and serious proposal one day. though, now you know for sure that he’s gotten into this relationship with the thought of actually marrying you.
“but i also—fuck—can’t wait,” satoru whines, feeling your walls clamp down on his thick cock.
his dick is pulsing with need, exploring your squishy insides while his balls prepare to release all semen stored right into your fertile womb. even if you may take a pill to get rid of any unwanted consequences, the thought of seeing your tummy swell with his child is making the older man go insane.
satoru buries his face between your breasts and breathes heavily against your sweaty skin. his hips move with renewed vigour, his energy never depleting when it comes to pleasuring you, “wanna make you my wife ‘n breed this pretty pussy.”
you moan repeatedly, unable to stop yourself. especially after satoru frantically spews such lewd words. he’s getting lost in your cunt and the way it’s swallowing him in—into your pretty pussy that he owns. his pussy.
“wanna be your wife so bad, ‘toru,” you hiccup, nearly crying from the intense pleasure.
you’d love to be satoru’s wife. he already treats you so well while you’re his girlfriend, you can’t imagine how much better it’s going to get once you’re officially his. your stomach fills with butterflies at the thought of being able to call him your husband.
the white-haired man chuckles. his blue eyes stare down at you with nothing but love, “yeah? mh, i’ll treat you so well every single day. g’nna come home to you ‘nd give you some proper loving.”
satoru can already imagine it. coming home to you after a long day of work, needing a quick release. seeing you greet him at the door will send him into a frenzy. especially if you’re wearing an apron—he’s a sucker for domestic stuff.
you, his wife, taking care of him after a rough day at work. . . it’s a dream come true. he’ll spoil you with materialistic gifts and his unending love so you’ll live a happy life.
and don’t get him started on kids.
satoru ruts into you like his life depends on it, the hypnotising rhythm of your boobs jiggling in circles is making him drool. having a little family with you is his end goal. you’ll be such a good mother and he’ll be such an amazing dad; a perfect combination.
satoru can already picture the amount of times he’ll dump his cum inside of you, without any restrictions. without you taking a pill or him wrapping a condom around his dick. his libido is going to be at an all time high when the time comes.
even if he ages a bit, he’s sure that he’s going to be able to have sex with you non stop. you get him hard without fail every single time. you’re his everything—the apple of his eyes.
satoru nearly chokes on his own saliva. he pushes his cock in to the base, burying it as deep as possible. your fingers curl around the pillow you’re holding for support, your eyes rolling back. his pink tip hit the right spot. that sweet spot that makes you cum without fail.
satoru bites his bottom lip. the way he’s looking at you, with a possessive kind of love and lust, is simply too much. his oceanic eyes are glimmering with need. erotic images flash through his mind of him impregnating you, “going to put a baby into you as soon as you’re ready.”
your tummy fills with butterflies. the way he’s talking to you like you’re already a married couple is making your pussy even wetter than it already is. it’s like it’s begging satoru to give it to you already—to make it store all his cum.
his eyes roll back as he leans his forehead against your shoulder. he has to hold himself back from cumming too soon. he wants to cherish every second spent inside of your warm body.
satoru attaches his lips to your breasts again, “mhhh, y’re gonna look so beautiful pregnant, mama. those tits of yours. . .”
his voice is barely audible because he’s busy sucking on your nipples. your boyfriend is imagining the pair growing with each semester, filling out perfectly to store milk for the baby.
satoru cannot wait to be the reason why your body will change so much. you’ll be even prettier than you already are, that he can tell already. he’s going to give you gifts every day, to thank you for carrying his child. he’s going to spoil you rotten because you deserve it and so much more.
he can’t wait for the married life with you. many men dread that life, but that’s not the case with satoru. every day of his married life will be spent with his wife—you—and the honeymoon phase will never end. ever.
satoru’s cock is twitching and begging for the much needed release. he pounds you into the couch until you’re screaming in pleasure, feeling him so deep inside you. he’s so big, he’s stretching you out so well to the point of no return.
the older man grins at the sight of your already fucked out face, “y’r cunt is gonna be so swollen because of how much i’ll pleasure her—paint her all white with my cum.”
satoru’s nasty words are causing unspeakable things to your body. you’re on the brink of reaching that euphoric state. the dirty talk is too much to handle at this point. your limbs are tingling and your cunt is aching to be stuffed full of his hot semen.
“s-satoru, don’t say such stuff,” you comment in a shaky breath.
your head is spinning and your hands desperately reach out to hold onto his shoulders, squeezing the skin. your hips are bucking up lightly, your clit bumping against satoru’s pelvic area with each thrust, “i’m gonna cum if you keep saying that.”
your lover’s grin widens even more. he knows you enjoy it when he whispers such dirty stuff in your ear. that’s mainly the reason why he does it. he’s talked you through multiple orgasms before—it’s quite easy to do so with his husky voice and manly touch.
“that’s fine, baby,” satoru coos and leaves one last, sloppy kiss on your nipple before leaning in to attach his lips to yours. his tongue swirls around yours as you share your spit, the mixture trickling down your chins.
his hips don’t stop. he positions his lower body in an angle that gets you screaming for mercy, which he won’t do. he craves to ruin you on his cock, to see you melt with pleasure underneath him.
“make a mess on my dick while i make a mess inside of you,” satoru encourages you which seals the deal.
your body shakes as you feel the waves of pleasure run through your system. you can feel hot ropes of cum nestle deep inside of your cunt. your boyfriend shudders at the sensation and helps you ride your climax out.
he pushes in and back out a few times, lazily, his finger finding your clit to rub until you’ve calmed down. “good girl. y’ took all of it, hm? lovely,” satoru nearly collapses on top of you after the energy leaves his body, careful not to crush you underneath his weight.
he doesn’t bother to pull out. he keeps his cum plugged into you—relishing the moment of ecstasy. even if he can’t fully breed you now, he’ll wait until the day he can.
“i love you, wifey,” satoru kisses your temple, tiredly giggling at the nickname he gave you. in his mind, you are already his one and only woman.
[𝝑𝑒] :: true form!sukuna dealing with your mood swings while pregnant :: tags. wife!reader. fluff, sfw. pregnancy. size diff reader gets called ‘woman, brat’ :: wc. 1.8k
you’re crying in your chambers, the volume of your cries overshadowing sukuna’s arrival at the estate. you hiccup and sniffle as you sit in the corner of your shared chambers. there really isn’t an end to your mental breakdown.
you’re prone to mood changes because of your pregnancy, already being seven months along. your belly is as round as a globe, sticking out from under your kimono.
you hold onto your lower abdomen while mumbling to yourself. “not fair,” you rub your blurry eyes with your free hand.
the bedroom doors suddenly swing open.
you lift your head from your knees and make eye contact with your husband who looks rather . . . upset. somehow more upset than you are at the moment.
you whimper as his big and intimidating stature dwarfs over yours while you’re stuck in the corner. when you look up at him, you cry even louder. seeing that familiar face after two whole days of suffering in this place alone gets you even more emotional.
after sukuna entered the room, his gaze had immediately fell upon your quivering figure.
he raises an eyebrow as you cry louder once you spot him, the sound breaking his ear drums. he lets out a sharp exhale, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone.
“enough with the tears,” sukuna grumbles as he crosses the room in a few long strides. his presence is both imposing and protective as he looms over your small figure.
his eyes flicker over your body—taking in the sight of your round belly. he can’t deny that the view makes his shoulders relax, relieved to see his wife do well after two days.
sukuna kneels down before you, his eyes narrowing as he notices the tears running down your cheeks. who knows how long you’ve been sobbing? the realisation that no one’s checked on you while you’ve been crying like this irks him.
the king of curses will make sure that every single servant—and especially the ones assigned to you—pay for not noticing your sour mood sooner.
“damn it, woman,” he curses under his breath, his words laden with both irritation and a sense of concern, “what’s gotten into you now, hmm? why the blubbering mess?"
you hiccup, gasping for air as sukuna kneels down to your level, something he rarely does. one of his hands reach out to wipe a tear from your cheek, his expression stoic and unreadable while he does so.
“welcome home,” you utter, remembering to greet him properly.
you wipe your own tears away and try to explain the situation without it sounding absurd. “i—i went down to the kitchen to get som-something,” you stammer, trying to spit it out before sukuna’s irritation spikes.
“but they didn’t have the food i craved. they’re out of mangoes,” your wailing starts again just at the mention of the fruit. it felt like the most devastating moment in your life when the maids told you that they were out of mangoes.
sukuna’s annoyance quickly dissolves upon hearing your explanation. the revelation that you’re crying over mangoes seems so unbelievable, so absurd, that he can’t help but let out a dry huff of laughter. an amused smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.
he brushes the remnants of the tears away from your face. his rough fingers pause at your chin, giving it a light tap. “mangoes, huh? y’re out here bawling y’r fucking eyes out like a baby for some damn mangoes?”
despite his tough exterior, sukuna knows that pregnancy hormones often amplify emotions, making even the smallest things a cause for crying. and right now, you’re stressing and sputtering over some mangoes.
“mangoes,” you nod and cry softly, watching as sukuna rubs your cheeks with his manly fingers, enjoying his rough touch.
you guess by just the increased toughness of his calluses that your husband has worked hard while he was gone.
though, mangoes are your current craving and not having them meant war to you. it’s all you can focus on—even if your beloved is right in front of you.
“i need them,” you whine and pout again. your hormones make it difficult for you to calm down.
you do, however, try your best to stop crying. you clean your face with the sleeve of your kimono and bite on your bottom lip to refrain from bawling your eyes out.
“i want my mangoes,” your voice is hoarse as you glance up at sukuna, “please?”
sukuna hates to admit it, but his expression softens upon hearing the hoarse tone of your pleading voice. the view of your tear-streaked face and the knowledge that you’re experiencing pregnancy cravings makes it difficult for him to maintain his usual firm demeanor.
the king of curses sighs, his annoyance replaced by a reluctant acceptance of your plight.
“tsk, damn it,” he mutters, lazily resting his head against the palm of one of his hands, “y’re really gonna make me fetch you some mangoes?”
here you are, a grown woman crying and begging like a kid for a sweet, juicy mango. he’s seen you in many states—happy, sad, tired, excited—but never quite as emotionally overwhelmed just for a piece of fruit.
sukuna’s large hand reaches out to pat your head in a surprisingly gentle manner, a rare display of his softer side.
you pout at him and lean into his touch. you come up with something witty to say, as you always do.
“well, yes, you’re the one who got me pregnant,” you comment in a teasing way, sticking your tongue out at your husband.
no matter what sour mood you’re in, you can still be sassy.
though it doesn’t last long before your bottom lip trembles again. “i can’t do anything about it. the baby craves mangos,” you sniff as you rub your baby bump to emphasise your desire.
sukuna’s smirk wides at your retort and the playful gesture. even in your distraught state, you had the audacity to sass him. cheeky little woman, he thinks.
your husband scoffs, his large hand roughly ruffling your hair again before pulling away.
“‘n i don’t regret a thing. even if i gotta put up with y’r cranky ass.”
you roll your eyes at sukuna’s reply. you know you’re an emotional mess, but you can’t care less. you’d dl anything for your mangoes—those juicy ones that you can eat a dozen of in one sitting.
“the maids said that the mangoes were out of stock in the towns ‘nd villages nearby,” you continue while you carefully stand up from the corner. you’re trying your best to stay rational.
you’re extremely hungry and haven’t eaten ever since breakfast. that’s how stubborn you are being.
“but i’m hungryyyyy. want my mangoes,” you sigh and nearly stomp your feet out of frustration.
“yeah, yeah—fuckin’ hell,” sukuna groans, watching you slowly stand up, your pregnant belly protruding like a perfect sphere. it’s a constant reminder of the effect he has on you and it makes him proud.
he helps you stand up by holding onto your arm, sharp eyes focused on your body to make sure you don’t strain a single muscle.
after you manage to stand up straight, you walk with sukuna to the kitchen to find something to eat—perhaps some other fruit will satisfy your cravings for now.
sukuna follows behind you, his steps long and leisurely while your shorter strides keep the pace with him. as the two of you walk towards the kitchen, he continues to listen to your repeated mantra.
it’s driving him insane.
“mangoes, mangoes, mangoes. i fuckin’ get it, brat,” the king of curses swears he can feel the vein in his forehead throb.
you’re lucky that he ‘tolerates’ you as his wife.
it’s something more than just ‘tolerating’ you, of course, but openly admitting to loving you, even in the slightest, is something sukuna would never do.
if someone would ask him why he goes the extra mile for you, his answer would be that it’s simply because you’re carrying his heir. however only he knows the full truth, the sappy secret he’ll forever keep to himself.
before you arrive at the kitchen, you bump into uraume.
they glance from sukuna to you and bow. “good day,” they greet you with as much respect as they do to sukuna. they’ve been doing so ever since you gained your title as his wife.
the king of curses folds all four of his arms over his chest. his lower pair of eyes are still focused on your impatient self, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. he just knows you’re holding yourself back from asking for your craving again.
sukuna clicks his tongue and nods his head at you while he speaks to uraume.
“keep an eye on her while ‘m gone. feed her what she wants,” he says in his deep voice, his tone commanding and firm.
uraume remains quiet for a second. sukuna had recently came back from a mission and is once again heading out for some ambiguous reason, but they know better than to question their master.
“where are you going, hubby?”
you of course, get a free pass.
you don’t hesitate at all before questioning your husband. sukuna scoffs when he hears your voice ask him such in an oblivious manner. you should known where he is departing to.
“where’d you think, smartass?” he pinches your nose, causing you to swat his fingers away out of instinct. he gives up on your nose and moves to squeeze your cheeks together in a gentle yet firm manner.
you huff at his antics. sukuna grins at your frown and pout before releasing your jawline with a faint push.
“you better hold on ‘til i come back with y’r stupid mangoes,” he scoffs while turning around to walk to the entrance, “and when i do, i don’t wanna hear ‘nother squeak, understood?”
sukuna seems to have made another mission for himself; find his heavily pregnant wife mangoes before she goes absolutely insane.
your face lights up and you nod repeatedly. your heart melts when you realise that he’s actually putting effort to satisfy your needs. he may be harsh and stern at times, but his actions speak louder than his words.
“okay! love you, ryo!” you call out to your husband as he disappears behind the gates.
as expected, your words are met by silence.
that’s fine with you. not hearing an ‘i love you’ back doesn’t hurt you as much as it did at the start of your relationship.
you know sukuna cherishes you in his own special way. if he didn’t, you’d be dead long time ago. on top of that, he would not go out on a hunt for mangoes right after coming back home if he didn’t like you.
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