POST-MATCH PENETRATION
CW: oneshot, Winner!Jude x girlfriend!reader, 18+, quickie, mild language, p in v, dirty talk, mirror sex, public sex (sorry)
Sum: Every winner has a weakness, and fortunately for Jude, that’s his lovely girlfriend.
WN: first post on here! Kinda nervy.. forgive me if it’s terrible I wanted to write a one shot for my first fic instead of straight to a story. Enjoy!
WC: 5678
The bass from the club pulses through the locked bathroom door like a distant heartbeat, the muffled cheers and laughter from the victory party still loud enough to remind you exactly where you are. Jude had barely let the team finish congratulating him before he pulled you through the crowd with that charming, easy smile he gives the cameras, polite, gentlemanly, the perfect England golden boy. But the moment the door clicked shut behind you, the hunger in his eyes shifted everything.
He steps close, tall and broad-shouldered in his crisp black shirt, the Real Madrid crest still on his chest. One hand gently cups your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip with surprising tenderness, while the other rests possessively on your waist.
“Easy now, love,” he murmurs, that smooth British accent warm and velvet-soft, carrying the faintest edge of condescension that makes your thighs press together.
“Look at you already trembling for me. All flushed and needy after watching me play. Such a sweet, desperate girl tonight, aren’t you?”
You swallow, heat flooding your cheeks. He smiles down at you, almost boyish before leaning in to kiss you slowly, deeply, his tongue teasing yours like he has all the time in the world. His hand slides down, bunching the hem of your short dress inch by inch, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs. When he finally cups you over your lace panties, he hums in approval at how soaked you already are.
“Shh, shh, baby. No rushing,” he whispers against your mouth, even as he presses two fingers against your clit through the fabric, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles. “We’re celebrating properly. I scored that winner for you, after all. The least you can do is let me enjoy how wet my good girl gets for me.”
He kisses along your jaw, down your neck, nipping gently while his fingers keep their unhurried rhythm. You whimper, hips rocking into his hand, and he chuckles softly, sweet, condescending.
“That’s it. Go on, love. Beg for me nicely. I want to hear how badly you need my cock stretching you open right here while everyone’s celebrating outside.”
“Please, Jude…” Your voice comes out through pants. “I need you. Please fuck me.”
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, that perfect smile still playing on his lips. “Mm, much better. Such polite begging from my pretty girl.”
He hooks his fingers into your panties and tugs them down your legs slowly, letting them pool at your ankles before helping you step out. He pockets them with a wink, then turns you gently but firmly toward the marble sink, hands guiding your palms flat on the cool surface.
“Eyes on the mirror. I want you to watch how well you take me.” He stands behind you, tall frame enveloping yours. You hear the slow drag of his zipper, the rustle of fabric as he frees his thick, hard cock. Dark at the tip and already leaking pre-cum. He strokes himself a few times, pressing the flushed head against your slick folds, sliding it up and down teasingly without pushing in yet.
“Feel that? So hard for you after the match. And you’re absolutely dripping, love. What a filthy, perfect little cunt.”
He eases the head inside, just enough to stretch you, then stops. One hand covers your mouth gently but securely, polite restraint mixed with dominance. While the other grips your hip.
“Breathe for me. That’s my girl.” Then he sinks in deeper, inch by thick inch, slow and controlled, until his hips are flush against your ass and you’re fully impaled on him. The fullness is overwhelming; you moan loudly into his palm.
“Shh, easy now,” he coos sweetly, voice low and condescending as he holds still inside you, letting you adjust. “Can’t have anyone hearing how desperately my girlfriend is taking my cock in a public bathroom, can we? Such a naughty secret for a man like me.” He starts moving then, long, deep rolls of his hips that drag against every sensitive spot inside you. Not rough, but dominant and relentless in their steady pace, each thrust pushing deeper than the last.
“Look at yourself,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours in the mirror. His free hand slides around to rub your clit in perfect time with his strokes. “So pretty when you’re stuffed full of me. Begging so sweetly with those eyes. Go on, love. Tell me how much deeper you need it.”
You mumble desperately against his hand, hips pushing back to meet him. He loosens his fingers just enough for you to speak.
“Please, Jude — deeper, fuck me deeper. I need all of you.”
He rewards you with a particularly deep thrust that makes your toes curl, groaning softly.
“There’s my good girl. So polite even when you’re gagging for it.” His pace stays measured but powerful, pounding into you with controlled dominance, the wet sounds of your bodies meeting echoing softly in the tiled room. Each stroke fills you completely, his cock dragging along your walls, hitting your g-spot over and over while his fingers circle your clit faster.
“Does my sweet girl love being fucked like this after I win? Used so nicely in a club bathroom where anyone could knock at any moment?” He presses, his own voice on the brink of groaning.
The pressure builds slowly, deliciously. Your legs shake, pleasure coiling tighter with every deep, dominating thrust. Jude keeps you pinned against the sink, hand firm over your mouth to muffle your increasing moans, his hips snapping harder now as he chases both your pleasure and his.
“Cum for me, love,” he whispers hotly against your ear, still so polite even as he pounds deeper. “Let me feel this pretty cunt squeeze my cock. Be a good girl and let go.”
The orgasm crashes over you in waves, intense, drawn-out, your vision blurring as you pulse and flutter around his thick length. Jude groans, burying himself to the hilt and grinding deep as you ride it out, his fingers never stopping on your clit until you’re trembling and oversensitive.
Only then does he let himself go, thrusting a few more deep, claiming strokes before he spills inside you with a low, satisfied moan. Eyebrows pinched and eyelids closed. You feel every hot pulse as you stare at him through the mirror, his cock twitching as he fills you completely. He stays buried deep for long moments afterward, breathing against your neck, pressing soft, gentlemanly kisses to your shoulder.
“Perfect as always, love,” he murmurs sweetly, voice laced with that soft affection. He pulls out slowly, watching with satisfaction as some of his cum leaks down your thigh. He uses his fingers to push a bit back inside you, then helps straighten your dress with surprising gentleness. His own hand going to stuff his now limp cock back inside his jeans.
He kisses your temple, that charming smile returning. “Fix your lipstick, love. We’ve got a party waiting.” He adds with one last possessive squeeze of your hip, he unlocks the door, ever the polite boyfriend once more.
