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You shouldn’t be here.
That’s the first thing you think as the door shuts behind you with a soft hiss of finality, the quiet sound of the lock clicking louder than it should be. The air smells like turf and sweat, faintly metallic. You’re just supposed to drop off a report, some performance data from the analyst team. In and out.
But he’s here.
Still in his compression shirt, chest rising slow beneath soaked fabric, hair slicked back from his forehead like he didn’t even bother drying it. His gaze lifts as if he already knew you were there. Not surprised. Just watching.
“You lost?”
His voice is low. Flat. Beautiful.
“N-no,” you stammer, holding up the tablet like a shield. “I was told to bring this to locker twenty-three…”
“That’s mine.”
You nod. Still standing there. Still watching him unlace his cleats without once looking away.
Your hands tremble.
He notices.
“You stare a lot.”
You freeze. “I— I wasn’t—”
“Yeah, you were.”
He rises slowly, discarding one shoe, then the other, stepping toward you with that same cold-blooded calm that makes him lethal on the field. It should terrify you. Maybe it does.
But it arouses you more.
“I see you every week,” he says. “Same little badge. Same eyes. Always flinching when I walk past.”
“I don’t— I wasn’t trying to—”
“Shut up.”
You do. Immediately.
His hand catches your wrist, tugging you forward so fast the tablet clatters to the floor. Your back hits the locker door, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in just close enough for the scent of sweat and citrus shampoo to hit you.
“You like watching me sweat, don’t you?”
You open your mouth to deny it, but nothing comes out.
Sae’s lips curl, just a little. Not quite a smile. More like the shadow of amusement at your expense.
Your denial dissolves on your tongue the second his hand drops from your wrist.
It doesn’t fall far.
It lands on your hip first, just the barest press of his palm, enough to make your breath hitch. Then he drags his fingers down, slow and deliberate, following the line of your thigh until he reaches the soft heat between your legs.
You try pathetically to press your knees together.
He stops you with a single, lazy command.
“Don’t.”
Your thighs part before you even register the word.
His fingers trail over the fabric of your underwear, a feather-light touch at first, like he’s testing how sensitive you are.
“Tell me you don’t stare,” he murmurs.
You swallow hard. “I… I don’t.”
Wrong answer.
His touch sharpens instantly, three slow strokes, firm and unhurried, dragging over the damp spot you didn’t even realize was there until his thumb presses directly on it.
You gasp.
He hears everything.
Feels everything.
And he doesn’t let you look away.
“Then what’s this?” he asks softly, thumb rolling over the wet patch again and again until your knees shake. “Hm?”
“I— I don’t—”
“You’re terrible at lying.”
The pads of his fingers slide lower. Down the seam. Up again. Pressing, teasing, circling. Never enough to make you moan. Just enough to ruin your breath. Enough to make your hips twitch toward him in tiny, shameful jerks you can’t hide.
“Say it,” he murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he watches your lips tremble. “Say you watch me.”
You shake your head, because you don’t trust your voice.
He rewards that with a slow drag of two fingers along your slit, pushing the soaked fabric aside just enough that you feel the barest scrape of skin on skin.
Your whole body jolts.
“Try again,” he whispers.
His fingers press harder. Stroke deeper. Your panties cling to his knuckles as he rubs tight circles exactly where you’re most sensitive.
“Say it,” Sae repeats, quieter now. “Or I’ll make you say it.”
Your breath breaks.
“I— I watch you,” you choke out, thighs trembling around his wrist. “I watch you all the time—”
His hand pauses.
Just for a heartbeat.
Then he smirks, a small, satisfied thing.
“Good,” he murmurs, slipping two fingers under your underwear and touching you properly this time, skin to skin, hot and slick and devastating.
“Because I’ve been watching you too.”
His fingers work you open with obscene ease, his thumb stroking slow, perfect circles over your clit, light enough to tease, firm enough to wreck you. You swear your pulse is trapped beneath his fingertip.
And he knows it.
His eyes flick downward, lashes lowering as he takes in the pathetic excuse for a skirt you’re wearing, barely long enough to count as clothing, definitely short enough to give him ideas he has no intention of hiding.
“Coming to my locker room dressed like this…” he murmurs, voice a rough hum, thumb never stopping its torturous rhythm on your clit. “You think I wouldn’t notice?”
You try to speak, say it’s all part of the uniform, but all that escapes is a breathy whimper that makes his jaw flex.
His free hand catches the hem of your skirt between two fingers and lifts it slow, just enough to expose the soaked crease of your panties stretched over his hand.
His eyes darken.
“You wanted me to see.”
His head lowers slightly to look.
“You know what I thought the first time I saw you?” he asks, voice dropping to a warning whisper as he drags the tip of one finger down your slit, gathering slick before pushing it right back up to your clit.
You shake your head, panting.
“I wanted to bite.”
Your knees buckle.
He presses you harder against the locker, holding you up like it’s nothing.
“Right here,” he continues, thumb flicking your clit just to watch your mouth fall open. “Wanted to feel you shudder around my teeth.”
Your breath breaks on a tiny sob.
He hears it.
He likes it.
Sae kneels and leans in until his lips brush the inside of your knee, close enough that you feel the heat of his mouth where you’re already throbbing.
“You wore this skirt,” he murmurs against your skin, voice a low growl now, “and expected me to behave?”
His teeth scrape lightly, not biting, just promising, along the soft flesh of your inner thigh.
Your whole body trembles.
He smirks against your skin.
“That’s cute.”
Then, with infuriating slowness, he hooks two fingers under your panties and pulls them aside, exposing you completely.
Your panties stretch across his knuckles as he looks up at you, eyes hungry, almost predatory.
His gaze then locks onto your bare, trembling cunt like he’s been starving for it, starved for you, and only now is he allowing himself a taste.
His breath lands on your clit, hot enough to make your hips jerk forward helplessly.
He huffs a quiet laugh.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice so low it feels like it’s vibrating against your skin. “Holding onto the locker like you’re about to fall apart.”
His fingers spread you open wider, slick coating the pads of them, stretching between you like a string.
“And you will,” he adds, tongue dragging slow and cruel from the bottom of your slit all the way up, stopping a hair beneath your clit. “You’re going to fall apart for me.”
Your breath punches out of you.
He does not touch your clit, he just watches how you twitch for him, how your thighs tremble.
“That desperate already?” he mutters. “I haven’t even started.”
Then his tongue flicks up again, a light, teasing stroke that makes you gasp loud enough that he smiles against you.
“There it is,” he says, lips brushing your soaked skin.
Two fingers slide into you at the exact same moment his tongue parts your folds, slow but deep, curling perfectly, dragging a broken moan out of your chest.
He exhales a quiet curse against you.
“Fuck… you’re tight,” he growls, starting a slow, deliberate rhythm inside you as his mouth finally seals around your clit. “Gripping me like you’ve been waiting for this.”
Your hips try to jerk away on instinct, but he clamps his arm around your thigh and drags you closer.
“Oh no,” he murmurs against your clit, sucking gently before licking a slow, devastating circle with the flat of his tongue. “You stay right here.”
Your knees shake violently.
His fingers fuck you deeper, curling just right, his tongue flicking your clit in soft, wet bursts that make you cry out.
“You’re dripping,” he says between licks, voice ruined, breath hot. “So wet I can taste you everywhere.”
He drags his mouth down, licking you slow, tasting you like he has all the patience in the world but absolutely no mercy.
“You came in here with your cute little skirt,” he says, thrusting his fingers harder, “pretending you weren’t staring.”
A sharp suck to your clit.
Your back slams against the locker.
“And now look at you,” he murmurs, tongue circling faster, filthier. “Shaking on my fingers.”
You moan helpless, breathless.
He laughs softly against you.
“Open your eyes.”
You do.
He meets your gaze with his mouth still on your clit, tongue stroking, lips wrapped around you, eyes dark and hungry.
“I want you to see exactly what I’m doing to you,” he whispers, pulling back just enough to speak before diving in again. “And then I want you to fall apart on my tongue.”
He sucks harder, thrusts deeper, and you break.
You come hard.
So hard it rips out of you, a strangled cry muffled against the back of your hand as your thighs clamp around his head. Your whole body collapses forward, shaking, overstimulated, vision blurry as your orgasm rolls through you in violent waves.
You try instinctively, desperately, to pull away.
Your leg twitches.
Your hips flinch.
You gasp, “W-wait—”
Sae lifts his head just enough for air, mouth and chin wet with you, chest rising like he’s catching his breath after a sprint.
Then he laughs.
A dry, amused exhale against your trembling thigh.
“Oh?” he murmurs. “You think you’re done?”
Before you can answer, before you can even breathe, his hands clamp around your hips and he flips you.
Your cheek hits cold metal, your breasts pressed against the locker door. Your skirt rides up automatically, bunching around your waist as he drags you into position like he’s been waiting for this exact moment.
Your knees buckle.
He doesn’t care.
His palm slides up your spine, slow… possessive… until it rests between your shoulders, holding you there.
Pinned.
“I said,” Sae breathes against your ear, “stay still.”
Your breath shudders out of you.
“S-Sae— I’m— it’s too much—”
His hand leaves your back for one second.
Just one.
Smack.
The slap lands across your ass so loud it echoes off the lockers.
His fingers spread over the sting, squeezing hard.
“Too much?” he repeats, voice low and bored like he’s humoring you. “No. That was barely anything.”
Another slap.
Harder.
You jerk, but he pushes your hips right back where he wants them, dragging you against the hard line of his thigh.
“Look at you…” he mutters, thumb stroking the fresh print on your skin. “Still shaking from my tongue, and already trying to run.”
You whimper.
He smirks, you can hear it in his voice.
“Pathetic.”
He pulls your ruined underwear to the side with two fingers, exposing you completely again. You feel cooler air hit your still-sensitive skin and gasp.
Sae just laughs softly.
“I didn’t tell you to stop coming,” he says, tone dropping to that dangerous calm that always makes your stomach twist. “I told you to fall apart.”
His hand slides between your legs again, two fingers dragging through your slick heat, obscene, slow, claiming.
You cry out, hips twitching helplessly.
He groans under his breath.
“Still this wet,” he mutters, spreading you open with his thumb just to watch your entire body react. “Fuck. You’re greedy.”
“S-Sae, please— I can’t—”
“Yes,” he cuts in, rubbing tight circles over your clit until your knees shake violently. “You can.”
His thigh nudges you wider.
His fingers circle your entrance.
Then he adds, low and vicious:
“And you’re going to.”
He presses his chest to your back, breath hot on your neck as he grinds his fingers into the spot that makes you scream.
Another slap to your ass, sharp, punishing, perfect.
You cry out again.
And before the sound even fades, Sae grabs the back of your thigh and lifts.
Not gently.
Not slowly.
He drags your leg up and out, forcing you open, stretching you until your toes leave the ground and your balance disappears entirely. The position is obscene, humiliating, your body bent against the locker, one leg held high by his grip, your slick dripping down your inner thigh.
You gasp, grabbing uselessly at the metal.
“S-Sae—!”
His fingers dig into the soft flesh behind your knee as he pushes your leg even higher.
“Hold still,” he orders, voice low and unyielding.
You tremble violently.
His free hand drags up the inside of your opened thigh, slow enough to make your breath stutter. His fingertips brush dangerously close to your entrance, tracing the slick mess he’s already made of you.
Then he leans in, breath hot on your neck as he murmurs:
“Look at the way you’re spread open for me.”
You whimper.
His grip tightens around your leg.
“I could fuck you like this,” he says, tone wicked, “One leg up, pressed against a locker, dripping down my thigh.”
Your whole body jolts.
“You’d take it,” he adds, voice dropping to a growl against your ear. “You’d take all of it.”
His fingers slide between your folds again, not inside, just enough to drag through your slick and smear it up to your clit.
You choke on a moan.
He laughs softly, cruelly.
“You hear yourself?” he murmurs. “Moaning like you’re already fucked stupid.”
His fingers circle your entrance slow, deliberate, teasing.
Your breath catches.
Your hips arch for him, involuntary, shameful.
He notices.
“Oh,” he breathes, almost amused. “You want it bad.”
His hand squeezes your thigh, forcing your legs even wider.
You whimper high and Sae’s grip tightens around your thigh, dragging you open even more.
He steps closer.
Close enough that you feel something heavy, thick, hard slide against your inner thigh.
Your breath stutters.
“Sae—”
He doesn’t answer.
He just drags the blunt head of his cock through your folds slow, a long stroke from your dripping entrance all the way up to your clit.
Your entire body jolts.
A broken sound escapes your mouth.
Sae exhales a dark laugh right against your ear.
“You hear that?” he murmurs, voice low and poisonous. “That filthy little noise you make when I’m not even inside you yet?”
He drags himself through your slick again, harder this time, enough pressure to make your breath catch, enough friction to make your thighs tremble uncontrollably.
Your wetness coats him, shining, messy, undeniable.
And then, with a slow exhale, he presses the thick head of his cock right against your entrance, not pushing in, just resting there, heavy and cruel.
“You know what drives me insane?” he asks softly.
You can’t answer.
He doesn’t expect you to.
His hand slides up the back of your thigh, palm hot and possessive against your shaking skin, holding your leg up and open while he rocks his hips just enough that the head of his cock nudges your entrance with each breath.
“You’d walk past me in the hallway,” he says, tone flat and merciless, “pretending you weren’t staring.”
He grinds the length of himself along your slit, coating himself in everything you’re leaking for him.
“And every time…” he continues, voice tightening just a fraction, “…you’d bite your lip.”
Your breathing stutters.
He smirks against your neck.
“Every. Fucking. Time.”
His cock slides down again, the pressure almost unbearable, almost enough to push in, but not quite, he’s teasing you, tormenting you, savoring how desperate you are for him.
“You thought I didn’t see that?” he murmurs. “You thought I didn’t notice how your thighs squeezed together when I walked by?”
Your whole body quivers.
He presses his chest to your back, trapping you fully, his cock sliding between your folds in a slow, obscene rhythm that makes your breath break into little gasps.
“You’d look at me like—”
He drags himself up through your slick.
“—you wanted me.”
Another slow grind downward.
“Like you needed me.”
Another.
“Like you’d fall apart the second I touched you.”
His mouth grazes the shell of your ear.
“And here you are,” he whispers, dragging himself over your clit so slowly you choke on a cry, “spread open for me… dripping on me… just from a few words.”
His hand tightens on your thigh.
Then he positions himself again, the head of his cock pressing firmly against your entrance, poised, heavy, ready.
“Say it,” he murmurs, voice a low, dangerous hum. “Say you’ve wanted me since the first time you saw me.”
He pushes forward a millimeter.
Just enough to make your walls flutter.
“Say it,” he repeats, breath shaking against your neck.
“Or I’ll tease you like this until you’re crying for it.”
Your breath shatters.
His cock presses just barely into you, just enough to feel the stretch and the words fall out of you in a whisper you can’t stop.
“I… I did,” you breathe. “I wanted you.”
Sae goes still.
The kind of stillness that feels like an inhale before a storm.
Your leg trembles in his grip, your cheek pressed to the cold metal, shame burning up your spine.
“I— I wanted you,” you force out, voice breaking. “Since the first time I saw you.”
A soft sound slips from him.
A quiet, cold laugh.
“Oh?” he says, amusement sharpening his tone. “Now you finally say it.”
Your face burns.
He switches his grip on your thigh, lifting it higher, forcing you even more open for him. Your hips arch helplessly, searching for contact, but he keeps you exactly where he wants you, suspended, begging, exposed.
“Cute,” he murmurs, dragging the head of his cock through your folds again, slower this time just to hear you gasp. “You’re shy now?”
“S-Sae—”
He laughs again.
“Weren’t shy when you were moaning.”
A small thrust, shallow, barely inside, just enough to make you choke.
“And you sure as fuck weren’t shy,” he adds, voice dropping to a cruel purr, “when you came all over my face.”
Your knees buckle.
He pushes you flat against the locker, your lifted leg supported only by his grip and the hard line of his thigh pinning your other leg down.
“Look at you,” he says softly. “Blushing. Squirming. Still trying to pretend you don’t want it.”
“I do,” you breathe, shamefully broken. “I want it— I want you—”
He cuts you off with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips, pressing the thick lenght of his cock inside you inch by inch until your breath fractures.
You cry out.
He exhales sharply against your neck.
“Fuck,” he murmurs, voice finally cracking with something raw. “You’re tight.”
His grip on your thigh tightens as he pushes deeper, stretching you open around him. Every inch feels impossible, dizzying.
You whimper against the locker.
“Sae— Sae— it’s—”
He mocks your voice under his breath, soft and merciless:
“Sae— Sae—.”
Then he drives his hips forward and sinks the rest of the way in.
You scream.
Your walls clamp around him so hard his breath stutters against your shoulder.
“Oh, you feel that,” he whispers, chest pressed to your back, his cock buried deep inside you. “You feel me everywhere.”
You nod or attempt to, body shaking uncontrollably.
He pulls out halfway.
You gasp.
Then he thrusts back in, harder, the locker rattling.
You choke on a scream as your body jerks forward, palms smacking the locker for balance. His hips snap into yours with sharp, perfect precision, each thrust faster, deeper, merciless.
“Fuck,” Sae groans, voice shaking with restraint, “you’re gripping me so tight I can barely move.”
But he moves anyway.
He drives into you with a brutal rhythm that makes the lockers rattle, his hand leaving your thigh only long enough to fist a handful of your hair and yank your head back.
Your mouth falls open—
a broken moan spilling out—
your throat bared to him.
“Yeah,” he whispers against your ear, breath ragged and filthy. “Let me hear you.”
Another sharp thrust.
Harder.
Your cry bounces off the metal.
His grip tightens in your hair, pulling your head back enough that his lips graze your jaw.
“Moaning like that for me,” he murmurs, voice drenched in hunger. “Like you were just waiting to get fucked.”
You whimper, body trembling around him.
He laughs softly, cold and cruel.
“You know how many times I thought about this?”
A harsh thrust, your knees buckle.
“How many times I watched you walk away and wanted to bend you over the nearest wall?”
Your breath shatters.
His mouth angles to your ear, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
“Wanted to fuck you so bad,” he breathes, each word punctuated with another deep snap of his hips, “I almost dragged you into an empty hallway.”
You gasp loud, helpless.
He pulls your hair harder.
“Almost,” he repeats, lips brushing your ear. “Because you kept running.”
His thrusts get faster, vicious, punishing, your body slamming into the locker with each one.
“But you didn’t hide very well, did you?”
You whimper, your legs shaking, your hands slipping on the locker door.
“No,” he answers for you, mocking. “You kept staring.”
His cock buries deep, and your vision blurs.
“Kept biting your lip.”
A thrust so sharp your breath leaves you entirely.
“Kept looking at me like you wanted me to fuck you.”
You sob, back arching into him.
He smirks against your skin, his teeth grazing your neck.
“And now look at you,” he whispers, fucking into you even harder, pace brutal and controlled. “Shaking around my cock like you’ve been starving for it.”
His hand in your hair forces your head back as he growls directly in your ear:
“I wanted you too.”
Your entire body jolts.
“Since day one,” he murmurs, thrusting deeper, “I wanted you.”
His hand drags from your hair to your throat, guiding your head back as he pounds into you.
“And now,” he says, breath hot and shaking with pure hunger, “I finally get to fuck you the way I’ve been imagining.”
You moan broken, breathless—
He groans, voice rough:
“That’s it. Give it to me. Let me hear how badly you needed this.”
His hips slam into yours harder, deeper, your body trembling against the cold locker as he fucks you like he’s making up for every time he didn’t.
Your moans spiral louder, shameless, punched from your throat with each brutal snap of his hips.
“Sae—so deep—so good—”
Your voice cracks around the praise, your knees threatening to give out as he keeps driving into you.
“Don’t stop—don’t—fuck, you feel so good—”
He grits his teeth behind you, growling low as your walls tighten, clenching hard around him.
You sob his name, breath catching, body burning.
“Please,” you gasp, mindless now. “Please—I’m coming—I’m coming—”
Your climax crashes into you like a wave, blinding and raw, your body convulsing around his cock as you cry out, loud and desperate.
“Oh fuck—fuck—Sae—!”
Your praise chokes out in pieces—words slurred, ragged.
“So good—so perfect—fuck—I needed this—I needed you—”
You clamp down around him, trembling, and he groans deep in his chest, his thrusts turning erratic.
“Fuck,” he snarls. “You’re gonna make me—shit—”
One final slam of his hips and he spills inside you with a low, guttural groan, burying himself to the hilt as he comes hard, hot and deep, his body jerking against yours with every pulse.
His fingers dig into your hips, holding you still, keeping you exactly where he wants you.
“Take it,” he breathes against your ear, panting. “Fucking take all of it.”
You do.
Every last drop.
You’re both breathless, pressed to the cold metal, your legs shaking, his body flush against yours, cock still twitching inside you.
He moves.
His hands grip your hips, and he flips you with ease, your back hitting the lockers as your legs wobble. Before you can even catch your breath, his mouth crashes against yours.
A kiss that’s not sweet but more devouring.
Tongue and teeth. Filthy, greedy. Like he’s staking a claim.
You gasp into it, and he swallows the sound.
His hands pin your waist as his hips press forward again, keeping you full of him, keeping you his.
When he finally pulls back barely, just enough to speak, his voice is a dark, rough murmur against your lips.
“Next time…”
A kiss.
“…you better knock.”
You blink, dazed, throbbing, trembling and he smirks, brushing his thumb over your spit-slick mouth.
“Or I’ll fuck you through the door.”