𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴: 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵,𝘉𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘔𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘭 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 (𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘪𝘤,𝘯𝘰𝘯-𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭) 𝘈𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 / 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘹𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵-𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘜𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦
𝘕𝘰𝘵𝘦: 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘢 𝘋𝘦𝘭 𝘙𝘦𝘺'𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 "𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘴"
In all your twenty one years of life you’ve experienced a lot. It was safe to say everything from your bucket list was crossed out besides one thing. And it was one of the most conventional things many girls have experienced, especially at your grown age. Most girls by now would’ve either been engaged to their high school sweetheart or establishing a good progressive relationship. But you were quite different. How many people can say they’ve been locked away in jail before they’ve fallen in love? At least in this universe not a lot of people. But you sure can because here you were, sat in a cold empty room with one singular clock and a glass window. It was not a pleasant experience to be put in an interrogation room especially after being arrested the night before while you’ve had at least 10 vodka shots. Since you were hung over the one sound in the room that could be heard was the faint yet loud tick of the clock, which irritated your aching head a tad bit more. At this very moment all you wished for was a little peace and quiet, just a little..was that really too much to ask for? Apparently so because the door finally opened revealing the dectective that was assigned to you to recollect the events from the prior night. “Hi Miss L/N my name is Satsuki Momoi! I wouldn’t have you in here too long! Im just here to find out a bit of what happened yesterday, so we’ll make this quick ok?” Your gaze followed her as she walked towards the chair in front of you. “Hi....” You mumbled under your breath. "Since you were under the influence the night prior you're aware of why you're here and the situation that led you to unfortunate circumstances, correct?" You nodded.
“Uh… yeah. I mean..sort of?”
You hesitated, then nodded anyway.
“I went to a college party. Things got loud. Someone said there was a gun. Then the cops came and found drugs.”
You paused. “And now I’m here.”
She hummed softly as she scribbled something down before looking back up at you. “Alright,” she said lightly, crossing one leg over the other. “Let’s slow it down then. Who invited you to this party?” You tilted your head slightly.
“A friend of a friend,” you said quickly. “I didn’t really know anyone there..other than the friend of the friend!"
“What's the name of the host and your friend?” she asked, pen pausing mid air.
You hesitated for half a second before saying. “The name of my friend is Kazunari Takao...but I really didn't know the hosts name." Her eyes flickered up to yours again, pink lashes batting once before she continued. “And the gun..did you see who pulled it?”
“No,” you answered honestly. “Everything happened fast. Music was loud. People were drunk. Next thing I know, everyone’s screaming.” Momoi nodded again, jotting something down. “Were you aware there were drugs present before the police arrived?” You let out a small breath, shoulders sinking back against the chair. “I mean… it was a college party,” you said slowly. “So I kinda figured there were drugs?” You frowned, clearly thinking it through as you spoke.
“But I don’t really get how that makes them mine. I was just standing there.” She smiled faintly at that, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Momoi didn’t respond right away. She leaned back in her chair, pen resting against the clipboard as her eyes lingered on you. The ticking clock filled the space between you, loud in the silence, while she examined your face, the dark circles beneath your eyes, the exhaustion etched into your features. And for a brief moment, something like pity flickered across her expression.
Momoi sighed. “Fair point,” Momoi said softly believing your innocence. “Do you have any details you’d like to share that might make this easier to-"
And a low and rough voice echoed through the room laced with an authority that made it impossible to ignore.
“Yo, Satsuki. Chief wants to speak to you real quick-"
His gaze lingered on you for a second longer than necessary, dark eyes dragging over the sight of you slouched in the chair, wrists resting on the table, your expression unreadable beneath exhaustion. He took in the smudged makeup, the messy ponytail, even the messed up manicure.
Although it may have seemed like he paused to examine how fucked out you looked at the moment, that wasn't the reason at all.
A strange, nagging sense of familiarity clawed its way to the surface of his brain, forcing him into a long pause as his mind worked overtime. Then it hit him.
“No way,” he muttered, disbelief lacing his voice as his eyes snapped back to your face. “I know you.”
Your brow twitched as your eyes squinted.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he demanded, eyes narrowing. “Don’t tell me you turned yourself in over a bad outfit or something cause trust me, I’ve seen worse crimes.” You raised an eyebrow.
Momoi’s eyes widened. “Daiki, what are you saying?! Are you crazy-"
“I um… I’m sorry,” you said, squinting at him. “Am I supposed to know you?”
You cut in. He ignored Momoi's words and proceeded to answer your question.
“Believe so..if I’m right,” he said, “Back in Highschool, your socks always matched every single one of your outfits. Perfectly.”
Your eyes widened before you could stop yourself.
Back in high school, you never wore mismatched socks. Purple hoodie equals purple socks. Yellow sweater equals yellow socks. Even the red polka dotted sweatshirt had red polka dotted socks to match. It had always felt obsessive to you… but apparently impressive enough for someone else to notice. He walked towards the table as Momoi stood abruptly.
“I think you should go,” he said casually, already taking her seat. “I’ll keep an eye on our little prisoner while you’re gone.”
Momoi sighed, hesitant. “I didn't do anything bad right? Chief is so scary sometimes.."
He shook his head. “Nah. I’d warn you he had to talk to you cause of something bad.”
After a moment, she nodded. “Okay, Daiki. I’ll be back.”
The door closed behind her with a soft click.
Leaving just you and the officer, seated across from each other.
Up close, it was impossible not to notice how striking he looked. His skin was a warm, sun kissed tan, the kind that could make you assume he spent more time outside than indoors. It contrasted sharply with the dark blue of his hair. Messy and thick with strands falling wherever they pleased. It suited him quite well.
And the uniform only amplified it.
The dark fabric hugged his frame perfectly. The short sleeves of the uniform was perfect for him since it exposed strong forearms, veins standing out subtly beneath the skin. His hands resting lazily on the table were large and veiny, fingers long. And pinned neatly to the left side of his chest, sat a silver name tag that caught the overhead light every time he shifted slightly. Daiki Aomine.
Other than his name, something else caught your eye, and that was the three chevrons stitched into sleeve.
The realization settled in slowly.
That meant he wasn’t just some rookie cop fresh out of the academy. He’d been around. Long enough to earn rank.nYou blinked once. Then again.
“Your a sergeant.." You said, quietly, “that means you’re… older than me.”
“Didn’t think you were the type to know about ranks.”
He leaned back in his chair and his shoulders relaxed. His grin never leaving.
“But yeah I was a third year,” he went on casually. “You were a first year. We had afterschool together.”
You nodded. “You’re a pretty young sergeant. That’s impressive.”
He shifted suddenly, pushing up from his chair and leaning forward until his weight rested against the table. The distance between you closed far too quickly, his face now only inches from yours. A smug smile tugged at his lips.
“Guess I wasn’t impressive enough to stick,” he said lazily. “I'm really not memorable, huh?”
Your breath hitched despite yourself, heat creeping up your neck as your eyes widened. Too close. Way too close.
The way he looked at you with an amused smirk sent an unfamiliar feeling rumbling low in your chest. There was something so dangerously attractive about him that it made it hard to look away.
“I was captain of the basketball team,” he added in hopes it jogged your memory. Luckily for him it was the one detail necessary.
Your eyes widened. “You were the ace, right?”
He nodded once, lips twitching.
“Knew I couldn’t be that forgettable,” he muttered. “Yeah. Been a minute though.”
You let out a soft chuckle.
“Never took you as the type to remember someone like me,” you said lightly. “I was kind of a loser.”
His expression shifted not much, just enough.
“Don’t say that,” he replied. “If you were loser, I wouldn’t remember you. Plus I found it a little cute how you matched your socks."
A faint blush crept on your face due to is words. He studied you for a moment longer, eyes narrowing slightly. Not in suspicion, but curiosity.
“Still tho,” he added, leaning back just enough to put space between you again, “Never thought I’d see you in a room like this.”
“Yeah,” he said. “You had your shit together back then. Looked perfect. Quiet. Put together.” His gaze flicked to you again. “It don't really add up.”
You let out a small, humorless laugh.
He scoffed softly. “Sure didn’t look that way.”
You shrugged. “Looks lie.”
He tilted his head, clearly unconvinced. “Alright then,” he said lazily. “Tell me, matching socks girl how exactly weren’t you?”
“I was terrible at taking tests,” you admitted. “Like… really bad.”
“…That’s it?” he deadpanned. “That’s your big flaw?”
“Wait really?” you asked. “That’s not bad?”
“That’s normal,” he said in a flat tone. “Still can't really change my mind about you."
Your cheeks reddened, and you looked away quickly, clearing your throat.
“Anyway uh about last night,” you said, forcing the subject elsewhere.
“I got arrested because,” you hesitated, then blurted, “they think I was dealing drugs.”
He froze. Then he let out a sharp laugh.
“No way,” he said. “That’s actually crazy.”
He looked back at you with disbelief.
You scoffed. “What, I don’t look like I’d do them?”
“Well,” you huffed, “you’re not wrong..but I did have like ten shots last night. That has to be at least a little bad!"
That got a low chuckle out of him.
"Not really... is this some kinda ‘bad girl’ phase or what?” He tilted his head slightly, eyes flicking over you again. “Cause I gotta say,” he added, unimpressed, “you’re really bad at it.”
“If I wanted to prove something, I’d do way better than this!"
He hummed, his amusement evident.
“Yeah?” His eyes dragged over you again. “Could’ve fooled me.”
You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms. “Yeah but last night really sucked. I went to a party, drank too much, and ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“Thanks,” you shot back. “Now I see why you're a cop and not a therapist or something."
“Sergeant,” he corrected, then smirked when you rolled your eyes. “Relax..just like a therapist I’m not here to judge around.” You sighed and replied with a low, “If you say so...”
He clicked his tongue, leaning forward slightly. “If I was judging you, you’d know. This?” He gestured between the two of you. “I’m just surprised.”
“You,” he said simply. “High school you wouldn’t even talk.. Now you’re sittin here talkin about some ten shots and drug trafficking.”
You winced. “When you put it like that…”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “Kinda weird right?.”
There was a brief pause before he spoke again.
“…So,” he added, quieter this time, “any details you can recall about last night?”
You exhaled slowly, eyes dropping to the table for a moment before you spoke.
“It wasn’t supposed to be anything crazy,” you said. “Just a college party. Loud music, packed house, people I barely knew.” You shrugged. “I was drinking. A lot."
Aomine snorted quietly. “Sounds about right.”
“I went to the kitchen to the kitchen for water,” you continued, ignoring him. “And that's when things got… weird. People started arguing. Someone knocked over a table. Glass shattered.” Your fingers curled slightly against the tabletop. “Then I heard someone yell that there was a gun.”
His expression changed just a little, more focused this time.
“Did you see it?” he asked.
You shook your head. “No. I just remember everyone panicking. Running. But I froze, then the sirens started.”
“Police were already on the way,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” you said. “They rushed in, told everyone to get on the ground. I was still in the kitchen when they started searching the place.”
Aomine leaned back, eyes never leaving you. “And that’s where they found it I assume?"
You nodded. “Bag of drugs. Not mine. I didn’t even know it was there.” Your voice tightened. “But it was close enough to me that they didn’t care.”
Silence settled between you again.
“Anyone else near you?” he asked.
“A couple people,” you said. “But they took off when things got loud. I was too drunk and too stupid to run.”
He clicked his tongue. “Figures.”
You looked up at him sharply. “Hey.”
“That wasn’t an insult,” he said. “Just hella wack timing.”
He watched you for a moment longer, then leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on the table.
“So you didn’t touch it. Didn’t sell it. Didn’t even know it was there.”
“No,” you said firmly. “I wouldn’t mess with that stuff. Ever.”
His gaze searched your face like he was weighing something.
“…Alright,” he said finally.
“Alright?”. You repeated his words.
“I believe you,” he added, casual yet certain.
“So,” he said again, watching you carefully, “you really didn’t know what was sitting next to you.”
You shook your head immediately. “No. I swear. If I did, I would’ve moved. Or left. Or” you frowned, thinking. "Or maybe spill my drink on the person on accident.."
You nodded earnestly. “I’m really clumsy when I drink while being scared."
“That’s your defense?” he said with a deadpan tone.
You shrugged. “You yourself said I'm not really good at being bad..."
For a moment, he didn’t respond. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing loosely as he studied you like you.
“You are the most interesting person I've ever met." You looked at him confused.
"How just because I match my socks?!"
“Yeah and the fact you're sittin here talkin about drug trafficking like it’s a parking ticket,” he said. “Most people would be panicking.”
“Oh,” you said softly. “I did panic. Earlier. I cried in the car.”
He blinked amused. “…You cried.”
"Yeah,” you admitted, nodding. “The officer told me to stop hyperventilating."
He stared at you for a long second muttered to himself. "Just as I assumed. You really don't belong here."
Aomine then straightened himself as he stood up.
“Alright,” he said, already moving.
“Wait what?” you asked, panic creeping into your voice as he stepped closer. “What are you going to do..."
The sound of metal shifting made your stomach twist.
“No-no, wait,” you blurted, breath quickening as his hand reached for the cuffs. “I thought you said you believed me. I didn’t do anything, I swear, I-"
Cold steel closed around your wrists.
Your breath caught sharply, eyes burning as shock hit harder than fear.
“Yo-you’re arresting me?” you whispered, voice trembling despite yourself.
“Hey,” he said immediately, firm but low, his hand steady at your back when you swayed. “Look at me.”
You did, wide eyed and terrified.
“I need you to trust me,” he murmured. “Just for a minute.”
Before you could even process that, he was guiding you out of the room. The door opened. The hallway was way too bright considering you just exited a dimly lit room. As you walked, every step felt heavy, your thoughts racing, heart pounding so loud you were sure everyone could hear it. You were about to go to back to that prison again. And god knows for how long.
People looked but no one questioned him.
That scared you even more. But suddenly you realized, you weren't going the direction of the prison. It was...the direction of outside.
The cool air of outside hit your face. Your eyes was wide as you blinked. Aomine only stopped once you were out of sight.
"Can't believe you thought I was gonna put you back there." He said as he un cuffed you. You stared at your wrists, stunned, like your brain hadn’t caught up yet. You turned around
“I-” your voice broke. “I don’t understand..why didn't you arrest me?.”
"Are you dealing drugs?” he asked, and you shook your head no. "Did you point a gun at someone?" Once again you shook your head. “Then what the hell am I gonna arrest you for?” He stretched his hand as he looked at you.
“Besides Jail don't even suit you. Too pretty. You'd ruin the whole aesthetic we got going on there."
His words made your heart feel like it was struck by something unseen all so suddenly. Your breath caught and your heart raced for a reason you didn’t fully understand yet. Is this what they described the arrow of Eros to feel like?
You swallowed hard. “I..Are you sure..Wouldn't you get in trouble?"
“Nah. I got it. Don’t stress yourself over it.”
He said with a huge grin.
“Why? You scared or somethin"
Indeed, at this moment, you felt fear, but not just because of the consequences he might have to pay for his actions. The fear that lingered within you was also due to something unfamiliar.
What was crazier than someone who consistently matched her socks to her sweaters or shirts every morning, suddenly being caught off guard by something like this? You’d always been careless in the small ways, impulsive, a little dumb when it came to details. But somehow, in all your years of recklessness, you’d never fallen for anyone. Not once. And now here you were, heart racing over a grin, a compliment and a promise that wasn’t even meant to be romantic. Fear curled in your chest and it was not because of where you were, but because for the first time, you could feel yourself losing control of something you didn’t know how to stop.
The door to the chief’s office shut with a solid thud. Aomine stood, hands behind his back, posture relaxed but his jaw was tight. The air in the room felt heavier than usual.
“You wanna explain why you released a detainee without clearing it through me?” the chief asked, unimpressed.
Aomine didn’t flinch. “She wasn’t charged. Evidence was circumstantial at best.”
“Circumstantial still counts,” the chief replied. “You overstepped.”
Before Aomine could respond, the door opened again.
“S-Sorry,” Momoi said quickly, stepping inside with her clipboard hugged to her chest. Aomine's eyes widened.
“I need to say something.”
The chief sighed. “Go ahead, Detective.”
“She wasn’t involved,” Momoi said firmly now, her nerves fading away. She would've been terrified of the chief in any other circumstance but when it came to proving her best friend's actions justifiable, unknown bravery always comes about. “There was no fingerprints, no witness statements and no prior history. She was just… there.” She swallowed. “Honestly, Sergeant Aomine was right to remove her before it escalated.”
The chief’s gaze shifted back to Aomine.
“And you’re telling me you’d stake your badge on that?”
Momoi nodded. “Yes, sir.”
A brief silence followed.
The chief leaned back in his chair, studying Aomine for a long moment. “You’re lucky,” he said finally. “If this had gone sideways, I’d be ripping those chevrons right off your sleeve.”
Aomine met his gaze without hesitation. “Understood.”
the chief continued, exhaling, “you’re not wrong. And you’re not reckless.” A pause. “You’re damn good at your job. That’s why this ends here.”
Momoi let out a quiet breath of relief.
“Next time,” the chief added, pointing a finger at Aomine, “you clear it with me first.”
Aomine nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
As they stepped back into the hallway, Momoi glanced up at him, eyes wide.
“You almost got demoted,” she whispered.
Anyone would think about the person who pulled them out of a nightmare. Anyone would replay the sound of his voice when be complimented you. Anyone would think about a promise of reassurance.
Yet Daiki Aomine stayed lodged in your head. You started replaying the night of the incident over and over, picking apart every detail you could remember. The kitchen. The counter. The faces that blurred past you when everyone ran. You even tried to remember what song had been playing. With all this effort to remember, there was one thing you could've done that made sense. You started investigating.
It wasn’t anything official. Nothing cool or impressive. Just you asking questions you probably shouldn’t have been asking, getting information from Takao, texting people who’d been at the party, scrolling through photos, zooming in on backgrounds. And every time you thought you found something.
“I think this guy was in the kitchen,” you said breathlessly, shoving the screen toward him. “He keeps posting about ‘easy money’ and wait, is that suspicious or am I reaching?”
“…You came all the way here for this?”
He glanced at the screen once, then handed your phone back.
“We’re gonna need more than that, pretty.”
The word hit you harder than it should have.
“…What?” you asked, a second too late.
“Nothing,” he muttered, already turning away. “Go home.”
You didn’t think about the evidence on the way home.
You thought about the word.
Hadn’t even looked at you when he said it.
But the way he said it, he said it like it held some truth. When you went home after that meeting, you looked at your reflection,. Messy hair, tired eyes, hoodie slipping off one shoulder and your heart skipped for no reason at all.
How could he even say that when I look like this.
You sighed as you looked at your hoodie, then down to your socks. A lavender hoodie with lavender socks. "I might need to put slightly more effort than matching my socks next time..."
Ever since that day, anytime you went to the station, you'd try your ultimately best to look pretty
You felt like you had to live up to that nickname, after all you loved hearing it.
So you put more effort to look pretty just so he'd call you it. Hair done. Outfit hot as hell. Not too overdressed but pretty enough to turn heads. You switched out your sweaters for tops that actually fit you instead of drowning you. Jeans that accentuated your figure. And of course, your socks always matched your top.
You kept showing up with screenshots. Trails of your memory.
Half-formed theories that still ended with, “I don’t know, it just feels off.”
Sometimes he scolded you.
But he never told you to stop.
And he never stopped calling you pretty.
The first time, he immediately noticed the difference in attire. And didn’t even bother hiding it.
“You always dress like that when you’re playin detective?” he asked, eyes dragging over you before he caught himself.
You blinked. “Like what?”
He shrugged, already looking away. “Never mind pretty.”
But the corner of his mouth twitched.
After that, it became obvious.
You didn’t even realize how far it had gone until one afternoon after you’d shown up for the third time that week. He leaned back in his chair and said,
“You know you don’t gotta keep comin here, right?”
You blinked. “Yeah. I know."
“…I just want to,” you added quietly.
Aomine exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Look you can't always be showin up here like this. It's not a good look."
Your heart sank. “Oh. I’m sorry-I didn’t mean to-"
“Let me finish what I’m sayin pretty" he cut in quickly.
“Sometimes I'm on patrol when you come and it kinda makes me look like an ass, havin you waitin around.”
You nodded, embarrassed despite yourself.
He paused for a moment before saying,
“…Come by my place instead.”
“Yeah,” he said, like it was obvious. “If you find somethin’. Or think you did. Safer. Quieter."
Your brain short circuited. “Are… are you allowed to do that?”
“Relax,” he muttered. “You’re not gettin case files or nothin. You’re just talkin’.”
"Oh,” you said. Then, softer, “…Okay.”
The first time you went to his apartment , you made sure you looked especially good.
You checked your reflection three times before getting out of the car. Adjusted your top. Smoothed your hair. Took a breath like you were walking into something dangerous.
He wasn’t even there when you arrived.
But you still waited anyway.
When he finally pulled up, keys jangling, he stopped short the second he saw you.
“…Shit-pretty,” he muttered, already moving. “You shoulda told me when you got here. I wouldn’t’ve had you waitin out here.”
He rushed to unlock the door, holding it open like it was instinct.
You shrugged. “I didn’t want to be late.”
His eyes flicked over you slow this time. No pretending. No rushing past it.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
"You’re really serious about this, huh.” He muttered quietly
You looked up at him, honest as ever.
“About the case?” you asked.
He didn’t answer right away. Just unlocked the door and stepped aside, letting you in.
“…Yeah,” he said finally.
The sound of the door closing behind you louder than it should’ve been. The apartment was quiet, warm, and very him. If that makes sense.
You glanced around. “Nice place.”
“It’s just a place,” he replied, kicking his shoes off and dropping his keys onto the counter. “You want water or somethin’?”
“I’m okay,” you said. You shifted your weight, suddenly hyper-aware of yourself standing there. In his apartment
“Relax,” he muttered. “You’re actin’ like you’re back in interrogation.”
You let out a small breath. “I'm sorry. Can't help that when I'm near you..”
He nodded toward the couch. “Go sit pretty.”
You did and Aomine stayed standing for a moment, watching you before grabbing his phone and moved to sit beside you. Not too close but close enough.
“So,” he said. “What’d you find.”
Your spine straightened instantly. “Okay..so I texted two people who were at the party. One of them left early, but the other stayed until the cops showed up.”
You pulled your phone out, scrolling quickly. “He said he saw someone in the kitchen right before everything went down. Same guy from the picture I showed you before.”
Aomine leaned back slightly. “Did he say anything else?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, swiping to the messages. “He said the guy kept going in and out of the kitchen. Like… a lot.”
“Definitley not normal,” Aomine muttered.
“That’s what I thought,” you said. “And I remembered something too...when I went in for water, I think I saw him shove something behind the trash can. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.”
Aomine turned toward you fully now. “You didn’t say that before.”
“I didn’t remember before,” you admitted. “Everything was kind of a blur. But it’s been replaying in my head.”
He studied your face for a second, like he was deciding whether to push or not. Then he nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “That’s actually useful.”
Your shoulders relaxed a little at that.
You scrolled again. “There’s more. The guy stopped posting right after that night. No stories. No captions. Nothing.”
“That’s suspicious,” Aomine said immediately.
“I know,” you replied, a little too eager. “And when I tried searching his name, it didn’t come up in the college directory. At all.”
Aomine leaned closer to see your screen.
You didn’t realize how close until you felt the warmth of his shoulder brushing yours. His arm hovered just behind you, not touching, but close enough that your breath caught.
Your stomach dropped. “What?”
He then took control using his thumb to scroll. His brow knit the second he saw it.
“…Why did you skip past this part?"
On the screen was the message you’d seen. The one you’d definitely read. The one you’d pretended didn’t exist.
“I-I forgot,” you said weakly.
He glanced at you. Unconvinced.
“You forgot a message sayin Rudy dipped cause things were about to get messy? And he didn't want to do a drug test because he'd fail?"
“…Okay,” you muttered. “Maybe I didn’t forget.”
He then at you. "Then why skim past that..."
You stared at the couch cushion like it held the answer. Your fingers twisted together.
“Because if this ends,” you said quietly, “I'll never be able to have a reason to keep coming here.”
The room was filled with silence when you admitted that.
Aomine didn’t react right away. Just stared at you like he was processing something he hadn’t planned to think about.
“…You’re serious,” he said.
You nodded, face burning. “I know it’s dumb. I wasn’t trying to mess anything up. I just-this was the only excuse I had to talk to you.”
He clicked his tongue, rubbing the back of his neck.
Your heart sank. “I know-"
“In a bad way,” he added quickly. Then paused. “…And not.”
He moved closer with a smirk.
“You coulda just said you wanted to see me,” he muttered.
“I didn’t think you’d let me,” you said honestly.
He scoffed. “You be showin up anyway.”
Another pause. Then, quieter.
“Guess that’s on me for wanting you to."
Before you could say anything else, he leaned in.
The first kiss was brief. Like he was testing the waters.
Then the second kiss was softer yet slower. His hand coming up to steady your jaw like he’d decided already.
When he pulled back he tilted your jaw so you'd look at him.
“Listen,” he said low. “You don’t need an excuse.”
You swallowed. "I don't?"
“No.” His thumb brushed your cheek, quick, almost absent. “You wanna see me, you come see me. Whenever the fuck you feel like it.”
Your breath caught. “Really?”
“Yes pretty any fucking time you need me.”
He continued to kiss you, laying you down on the couch.
You then pulled away and looked up at him, heart racing.
“…Is this even allowed?” you asked softly. “I mean-you’re a cop. I was detained and-"
“You’re not a suspect anymore,” he said. “Thats all that matters.”
He kissed you again, deeper this time and by the way he was kissing you, you can tell how needy he was. And your soaked underwear perfectly showcased how equally needy you were as well.
You couldn't even control the moan coming out of your mouth as your hand gripped the collar of his uniform. “You're sure this isn’t gonna get you in trouble?”
He pulled back just an inch, breath heavy. “If it does…” His thumb brushed your cheek again, slow. “I’ll handle it."
That made your chest tighten. Then he was kissing down your neck, dragging your shirt up with both hands like he’d been dying to see what was under it for weeks.
“Been thinkin about this since the second I saw you,” he said, voice low against your skin. “Your so god damn beautiful my pretty girl. I knew I was so fucked when I saw you. I love everything about you. Your stupid socks, your innocence, the clueless nature you have, shit bro."
His hands were warm and big, so so big as they moved under your shirt, his thumbs brushing slowly over your breasts. Your breath hitched, lips parting as his palms cupped both tits fully, giving them a squeeze that made you whimper.
“So fuckin soft,” he muttered. “So fuckin perfect.”
He dipped his head, kissing the center of your chest before lifting your shirt higher, impatient now. When your bra came off, he let out a sharp breath at the gorgeous sight.
“Fuck.” His mouth was on you in seconds, licking a stripe up one breast before taking your nipple into his mouth. He sucked slow, deep, fingers pinching the other gently, rolling it between his fingers.
“Daiki fuck,” you gasped, arching under him.
He growled low in his throat. “Been thinking about these every night. In the damn shower. In my patrol car. Driving myself insane wondering how you taste.”
He bit gently, just enough to make you moan, then kissed it better.
Your head was spinning, thighs clenching around nothing, your whole body hypersensitive as he moved to your other nipple, laving it with that same worshipful, greedy attention.
He was rutting against your thigh now, hard in his uniform pants, as he kissed and sucked and palmed your tits like he couldn’t get enough.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he rasped, lips wet with spit and want. “But I’m gonna show you.”
His lips were still slick from your chest, his hands roaming every inch of your body like he couldn’t decide where to touch next. You were flushed, legs spread, panties soaked through and you couldn’t stop squirming beneath him.
His breath lingered over your hips as he tugged your underwear down slowly.
“Fuck…” he breathed, staring down at your glistening pussy. “Look at you… you’re so wet, baby.”
He leaned in to kiss the inside of your thigh, then your mound, then finally dragged his tongue along your slit.
You cried out at the first real contact.
“You’re so sweet. I could eat you for hours.”
And he did, slow at first, then deeper,tongue curling into your tight little hole, one hand still on your tits, the other pinning your hip down as your thighs trembled.
You didn’t know pleasure like this existed. You were panting, overwhelmed, your legs trying to close and your hands clawing at the couch cushion.
When you came, your body shook.
He kissed your twitching clit once more before sitting up, face shining with slick. “You good?”
You nodded weakly, lips parted.
Then he undid his belt, and your eyes went wide.
His cock slapped against his abs, thick, veiny, flushed and huge. You swallowed hard.
“You sure about this?” he asked, voice suddenly quieter, rough with restraint.
You nodded. “I want you.”
He kissed you softly. “I’ll go slow.”
He guided the head to your entrance, dragging it through your slick folds a few times before slowly, pushing in.
You froze instantly, eyes locked on your face.
“Baby…” His brows drew together. “That hurt?”
You nodded, biting your lip. “I-It’s my first time.”
Everything in him shifted. The grip on your thigh, the tension in his shoulders the way his breath caught in his chest like you’d just confessed something dangerous and precious at the same time.
“Oh shit..." he said quietly, voice hoarse. “fuck. I’m gonna be so gentle, okay? You just… tell me if anything feels wrong.”
You nodded, and he kissed you slow and deep as he sank in the rest of the way, stopping every inch to let you adjust.
When he bottomed out, both of you moaned.
“I’ll make it good for you,” he whispered, holding you so close, you could barely breathe. “I swear, pretty. I’ll make you feel so good.”
He stayed buried inside you, unmoving, trying to calm his own breathing as your walls pulsed around him. The fact that you were this tight, this warm, this new his head spun with the thought.
“…Fuck,” he whispered, kissing your cheek gently. “You’re really mine now, huh?”
You whimpered, and he shushed you, brushing your hair from your face, kissing the corner of your eye. “You okay, pretty?”
You nodded, dazed. “Feels… big.”
He chuckled. “I know, baby. I know. But you’re takin’ it so good. You’re doin’ perfect.”
His hips rolled just a little, testing. You gasped, thighs trembling, body still adjusting but you didn’t push him away.
The way your pussy clung to him, fluttering around his cock, it was damn near sinful. He cursed under his breath, dragging out, then pressing back in with a shaky groan.
“Fuck, you’re squeezin hella tight.”
You moaned, fingers clawing at his biceps as he found a rhythm that made your body melt. Gentle but deep. Patient, but deliberate. His pelvis ground into your clit with every slow thrust.
“You’re doin’ so good for me,” he breathed. “Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good shit-I’ve never…”
He didn’t finish. Couldn’t. The feeling of your tight virgin cunt wrapped around him, still twitching, still drooling from your first orgasm. it was overwhelming.
“Pretty girl,” he rasped, thrusting deeper now, voice getting shakier, “if you keep squeezin’ me like this I’m not gonna last…”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Then don’t,” you whispered, eyes glassy. “Cum inside me. I'm on the pill it's okay."
You nodded, voice small. “I promise it's okay."
His groan was broken. His next thrust was rougher, deeper, possessive.
“You sure?” he panted. “Fuck, don’t say that unless you mean it. Cause I’ll fuckin’ do it. I’ll fill you up, pretty. I’ll make this pussy remember me.”
“Yes,” you moaned. “Daiki please do it.”
He slammed into you harder now, sweat dripping down his temple, fucking your virgin cunt open like it was made for him.
And then with a deep, breathless growl he came.
He spilled inside you, hips jerking, holding you so close his body trembled. His cock throbbed deep inside your soaked, overstretched cunt, pumping rope after rope of cum into your womb.
“…Shit,” he finally whispered. “That felt like heaven.”
You were still gasping, twitching around him, the sight of you made him reach down to cup your face.
“I’m not lettin you walk home,” he murmured. “You’re gonna stay here tonight. On me. In me. Whatever you want.”
He pulled out slow, hissing at the sight of his cum leaking out of your pussy.
You whimpered at the overstimulation, and he kissed your thigh, your stomach, your chest. “Ima gonna run you a bath, your probably sore as shit,” he said, voice gentle now. You nodded breathing heavily.
After your bath, you kiss against his chest, both of you tucked under the thin blanket on his bed.
He hadn’t said much since, his fingers tracing lazy circles on your bare spine.
It was comfortable and intimate.
Then you felt his hand pause.
“Can I ask something?” he asked, voice low.
You lifted your head a little to look at him. “Of course.”
He exhaled like he’d been holding it in all night. “You believe in fate?”
He looked down at you, something softer than usual in his eyes. “Because it’s fuckin’ crazy. The way you got detained. The way I just happened to be the one walking into that room while you were getting interrogated.”
His hand brushed your hair back gently, thumb grazing your cheek.
“I ain't think that shit was random,” he murmured. “It’s like… I was meant to see you again.”
He looked away for a second, then back at you.
“Shit-I don’t want you to think I’m saying this just ‘cause we fucked,” he added quickly, voice rougher now. “But I mean it. Genuinely.”
You watched him, waiting.
“I want to be your boyfriend,” he said.
You stared at him. Then whispered
“I think, I’ve been waiting for you to say that since before we even knew each other like this.”
“Then I guess fate really did its job, huh?”
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