Pairing:Jermajesty x Black!Reader
Content Warnings: Ovulation, moody/petty reader, attentive bf Jermajesty, P-in-V, backshots, sex talk, creampie.
A/N first fic on here! (Lowkey ahh) but I Hope yall like, reblogs and interactions are always appreciated 🫶🏽
The mirror wasn’t playing with you today.
You stood in the bathroom, yanking up the hem of Jermajesty’s oversized hoodie just to glare at yourself. That little rounded swell in your lower belly stared right back.
tight, bloated, and stubborn as hell. It wasn’t a massive change, but it was just enough to throw off your whole silhouette, pushing softly over the waistband of your sweatpants. You poked it with a fresh acrylic nail and immediately regretted it. A deep, radiating ache bloomed low in your pelvis, making your toes curl against the cold tile.
“Ugh, are you fucking serious?” you hissed, sucking your teeth.
You tried smoothing the hoodie back down, but the damage was done. Everything felt heavy. Your skin was too warm, your breasts tender and full against your bra, and that constant dull throb in your gut had you in a mood since you woke up. Ovulation this month was no joke..water retention, mood swings, the whole nine.
The hoodie smelled like him though. Heavy cologne and clean laundry. It was the only thing that didn’t feel like it was scratching your hypersensitive skin raw.
You heard Jermajesty’s steps coming down the hall. He appeared in the doorway a second later, tall and broad in his basketball shorts and a white tank, looking entirely too relaxed for how fucked up you felt.
He clocked your energy right away. “What’s wrong with your face, ma?” His voice was low and calm, the tone he used when he was trying to figure out where your head was at. He stepped closer, that familiar warmth rolling off him.
“Nothing,” you snapped, trying to brush past him.
His big hand caught your hip, thumb pressing into the soft flesh just above your waistband. The touch hit different—comfort and irritation all at once. “Nah, don’t do that. Talk to me. You been in here sulking for like twenty minutes.”
You folded, leaning into his chest with a whine. “I feel disgusting, Jer. I’m bloated as hell. My stomach hurts. Everything hurts. I look crazy.”
He chuckled, the sound vibrating through you as his hand slid to your lower back, pulling you closer. “You trippin’. You look good. You always look good.”
“I don’t,” you mumbled into his neck. “I feel like a damn balloon.”
“Lemme see.” His tone softened, turning attentive. He tugged the hoodie up slowly.
You half-heartedly tried to stop him, but he caught your wrists gently, pinning them to your chest with one hand while the other spread warm and wide over your bare stomach. The heat of his palm was instant relief, like a heating pad. You sighed, melting a little.
He rubbed slow circles, feeling the tightness. “You real tight right here,” he murmured, voice dropping. His thumb dragged along your skin, pressing just enough. “This what’s been fucking with you?”
“Yeah,” you whispered, eyes half-closed. “It’s making me so moody.”
“I noticed,” he teased lightly, but his hand never stopped. “But you don’t look crazy, baby. You look real good like this.”
He leaned in, voice low against your ear. “Go lay down. I got you.”
You didn’t argue. You climbed onto the big bed and stretched out on your back, staring at the ceiling while the ache in your lower belly kept throbbing. A few minutes later he came back with the bottle of body oil.
He straddled your thighs, heavy and grounding. “Pull the hoodie up.”
You did, exposing the smooth dark skin of your stomach, that soft swell rising and falling with your breaths.
Jermajesty warmed the oil between his palms, then laid his hands on you. The first firm stroke pulled a deep groan out of you. He worked slow and thorough—long drags of his palms, deep circles with his thumbs, pressing the tension out of your sides and lower belly. His forearms flexed as he focused completely on you.
“Fuck… that feels good,” you breathed, eyes fluttering shut.
“I know,” he muttered, voice low. “I got you.”
The pain started easing, but something else took its place. The weight of him over you, the slide of oiled skin, the scent of him—it had you squirming, getting wetter by the second.
He caught it immediately. His hands stilled on your stomach as he smirked. “Why you squirming like that? Thought your stomach was hurting.”
“It is,” you muttered, cheeks warm. “But… it’s different now.”
“Differently how?” He hooked his fingers into your sweatpants and panties, dragging them down. Cool air hit your wet folds and you shivered. “Shit, ma… you wet as hell.”
You bit your lip, sightly embarrassed, but another thick drop of arousal slipped out anyway.
Jermajesty let out a low sound in his throat, spreading you open with his fingers and stroking your clit slow and heavy. Your back arched hard, your hips twitching involuntarily against the mattress as his thumb found the perfect rhythm.
“Look at you,” he rasped, voice thick. “You really need this dick, hm? That’s why you been so damn moody.”
“Jer, please,” you begged, your voice cracking as you tugged at his shoulders. The ache in your stomach was completely gone, replaced by a tight coil of pure heat that was stretching you thin. “It hurts… I need it, please.”
he hooked his other hand under your thigh, pinning your leg back to open you up even wider, his fingers digging in deep in a come here motion. as his thumb applied a sudden, heavy pressure right against your swollen clit. The friction was intense, hitting the exact right spot and sending a violent spasm straight through your pelvis. Your whole body locked up, toes curling so hard they cramped, and before you could even draw in a breath, a hot, heavy gush of fluid suddenly sprayed out from deep inside you, soaking his hands, his wrists, and flooding the sheets beneath you.
“Oh fuck!” you screamed out, your back completely snapping off the bed as you shuddered.
Jermajesty didn't even hesitate. The sight of you completely letting go only made him hungrier. He slid down your body immediately, his large frame grounding you as he buried his face right between your thighs.
He started slurping up the fresh wetness, his tongue working in long, deep strokes over your dripping folds. He tasted every single drop, his mouth warm as he licked you clean, He tasted every single drop his tongue parting your inner lips to find where the fluid was still actively pooling.
“Mmh, look at how much you made for me,” he muttered against your wet skin, his voice deep and vibrating right against your center. “Good girl… you’re so fucking wet for me, ma.”
You shivered violently, a desperate, broken “fuck-!” ripping from your throat. Your head tossed against the pillows while your fingers tangled desperately in his curls, trying to pull him closer and push him away all at once. The sheer sensation of his hot mouth swallowing everything you were giving off had you screaming into the empty bedroom, your hips rolling helplessly against his face.
“Mhm, take it,” his mouth never leaving your pussy as you twitched helplessly against him.“Tastes so fucking good. You’re doing so good for me.”
He stayed down there until he had thoroughly licked you clean, his tongue dragging one last slow, agonizing stroke up your clit that had you letting out a breathless, high-pitched whine.
When he finally pulled back, his lips and jaw were completely glistening. He looked up the length of your body, breathing heavily, the view of you completely undone making his veins pump. “Fuck, ma... you completely soaked,” he muttered,“Fucking ruined the sheets. Good girl.”
He stood up just long enough to drop his shorts. His dick was thick, heavy, and already leaking at the tip. No condom. You both knew what time it was- raw felt right .
He pushed your knees back toward your chest, opening you wide. The broad head of his dick slid up and down your soaked slit, teasing, coating himself in your wetness until he was glistening. He pressed in just the tip, letting you feel the stretch, then pulled back out, repeating it over and over until you were whimpering and trying to lift your hips to take more.
“Jermajesty, stop playing—” you whined, voice breaking.
He finally gave in, sinking in slow and deep in one heavy stroke. You cried out, walls clamping down around every thick inch. He was so big it bordered on too much, stretching you perfectly and pressing right against that sensitive spot deep inside. He stayed buried for a long moment, grinding in slow circles, letting you adjust while his hand rubbed over your bloated stomach.
“Fuck, baby… you gripping me so tight,” he groaned, jaw clenched. He started moving then—long, deep, dragging strokes that pulled almost all the way out before sliding back in, making sure you felt every inch. The wet sounds were loud and obscene in the quiet room. Each thrust made your swollen belly jiggle slightly under his palm, and he couldn’t stop watching it.
You were a mess already, moaning and clawing at his arms. He kept the pace steady and deep for a while, leaning down to kiss you sloppy and hot, swallowing your whimpers while he worked you open. Then he picked up speed, hips snapping harder, the slap of skin getting louder as he fucked you with more force. One of his hands stayed on your stomach, possessive, while the other pinched and rolled your sensitive nipple. The overstimulation from your ovulation had you shaking, tears pricking your eyes from how good it felt.
But it still wasn’t enough.
He pulled out suddenly, making you whimper at the loss. “Hands and knees. Turn over.”
You scrambled into position, ass up, that soft heavy swell of your belly hanging beneath you. Jermajesty didn’t waste time. He grabbed your hips with a bruising grip and drove back in with one hard thrust, bottoming out so deep you screamed into the pillow.
The new angle was devastating. He was hitting everything, every thrust slamming against that spot that made your toes curl and your eyes roll back. He kept up a steady, intense rhythm—relentless, heavy strokes that made your ass ripple with every impact. The heavy, rhythmic smack of his balls hitting against your swollen clit filled the room with every single deep hit, sending waves of intense heat straight to your core.
“Fuck, listen to how wet you are,” he groaned, one hand sliding around to press on your lower belly again, feeling the way his dick moved inside you. “This pussy swallowing me up. You needed this so bad, didn’t you?”
You could barely answer, just moaning and pushing back to meet his thrusts. He leaned over you, chest to your back, one arm wrapped tight around your waist while the other gripped the back of your neck, holding you right where he wanted you. His strokes got slower but somehow deeper, grinding hard on every inward thrust so you felt him in your stomach.
He kept that punishing rhythm going, switching between fast, deep strokes and those slow, grinding rolls that had you sobbing. Every time you got close he'd slow down just enough to keep you on the edge, drawing it out until you were begging and arousal was dripping down your thighs.
When he finally let you cum, it hit you like a wave. Your whole body locked up, walls pulsing hard around his dick as you came with a broken cry. Jermajesty groaned loud at the feeling, fucking you through it with short, deep strokes.
He kept going, chasing another one from you. His hand slipped between your legs, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit while he continued those heavy thrusts. “Give me another one, baby. I know you got it.”
The second orgasm crashed into you even harder, leaving you shaking and clenching around him so tight he cursed under his breath. Only then did he chase his own. His grip on your hips tightened as he sped up again, pounding into you with raw, desperate thrusts.
Three more brutal strokes and he buried himself as deep as he could go, groaning your name as he came. You felt every thick, hot pulse of his dick, rope after rope flooding you until it was leaking out around him and dripping down your thighs.
He stayed buried inside you for a long time after, both of you panting, his hand gently rubbing your belly again like he was soothing the fullness he just put there. He finally pulled out slow, watching the messy creampie leak out of you with a satisfied hum. Then he grabbed tissues and cleaned you up with careful, gentle hands, wiping your thighs and folds before tossing the tissues and pulling you into his arms.
“Look at all that,” he muttered, voice still thick. “Filled you all the way up, ma. You gon’ be lazy the rest of the day.”
“Shut up,” you mumbled into the pillow, no real heat behind it. You felt boneless, the ache in your stomach finally quiet, replaced by that warm, satisfied glow.
He climbed back in bed and pulled you against his chest, tucking you under the duvet. His big hand found your belly again, rubbing slow and soothing circles over the soft swell. You covered his hand with yours, keeping it there.
“You feel better?” he whispered against the back of your neck, pressing a soft kiss there.
“Yeah,” you sighed, already drifting. “I feel better.”
“Good.” His arm tightened around you, “I told you I had you.”
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