This is a story I wrote for a friend forever ago, and she loved it so much, I thought I would share it to see if anyone else appreciated it. I've maintained it as a reader insert as much as I possibly could, but with the site's rules about not using second person perspective- in which I've gotten tired of writing anyway- I had to use more general pronouns. So, just envision yourself- if you're female, very sorry if you are not- doing all of this.

I did base it on my friend's life, so it's more specific than most reader inserts, but hey, I personally enjoy putting myself in someone else's shoes and experiencing how they live.

I do not own the perverted but lovable punk Aomine. Begone legalities.

Enjoy!

Aomine×Reader

soulmate!au where the first words that your soulmate says to you are tattooed on your wrist

'I'm going to die'

She had often sarcastically questioned whether or not the words tattooed on her right wrist in messy scrawl could get any more depressing. Even before she was able to read them for herself, she had known that they were bad by the looks on the faces of the people around her. By the age of six, when she finally understood the meaning, she had grown so tired of seeing the expressions of pity, and had done what only those who had seen her wrist would understand. The questions of why she wore an emerald green wristband over the tattoo were easier to deal with, even when faking a smile and telling everyone that she didn't feel the words were appropriate to share. At least she didn't have to lie about that.

She shouldered her backpack as she left her room, shutting the door behind her, heading out for her first day of a new school year. She poked her head into the kitchen where her grandmother was moving around, pulling things out for breakfast.

"I'm leaving," she announced, drawing her attention.

"Oh, but what about breakfast?" The sweet old lady questioned. "I can make she something really quick, or there's cereal-"

"I got it," she interrupted her, pulling open the nearest cabinet door and swiping a pack of strawberry poptarts, then going to the fridge to grab a bottle of Dr. Pepper.

"Well, okay," her grandmother said with a hint of worry, before donning a smile. "Have a good day!"

'We'll see,' she thought, but nodded with a small forced smile of her own. "Okay, see you later."

As she stepped outside, she saw that the sky was moderately cloudy, looking like the weather could go either way. Rain would be nice after the summer drought that had hit her small town and the surrounding cities, she had noted not for the first time as she got into the driver's seat of her grandmother's van, tossing her backpack on to the floor of the passenger side.

"Okay, let's at least try not to be a brat today," she muttered as she turned the vehicle on and began backing out of the driveway. It was somewhat of a daily mantra for her, starting when she was about thirteen. She didn't really have a bitter personality, but who wouldn't suffer from a slightly pessimistic attitude when it seemed that the one person that they were fated to be with was going to kick the bucket not long after they met them?

Many people had tried to tell her that it would be okay, there was no way that she would be guided to her soulmate just in time to watch them die, but she couldn't believe that. There were people who had met their soulmate, only to have something happen completely unexpected in the same day. So she saw hers coming, and she wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not. At least she could prepare herself to decide whether or not she would stick around for whatever time they had left.

Before she knew it, she was pulling into the parking lot of the community college at which she was attending her second year. She was happy to see that there was one last decent space, and began turning in just as a tiny convertible came up. The puckered lips and narrowed eyes that she could see through the windshield gave her no doubt that the other driver was cursing her into an early grave of her own, and a small, but honest laugh bubbled up out of her throat.

"Yay for the little things," she hummed as she grabbed her things and slipped out. The sight of the campus had her already feeling exhausted, and she hadn't even been there for five minutes. "All right, let's do this."

It took her a few extra minutes to find her way to a building that she hadn't visited last semester, but she still got there a good five minutes early, staking out the seat that she would attempt to claim as hers. It was in the second of four rows, a little off to the right. In her experience, that was the best place to be, as it was the most overlooked by even the teacher who was best known for picking students to answer questions.

Two minutes to the bell, and she was pleased to have no one sitting next to her on either side, giving her plenty of room to set out her supplies. That little bit of happiness disappeared in a minute and a half as a tall guy plopped down in the chair on her right. The corners of her mouth fell as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was pretty good looking, she had to admit, with tan skin and dark blue hair. Not to mention the highly obvious muscles that went from his shoulders to his heels. As attractive as he was, she was deterred by the clearly tired look in his eyes.

Her inspection of him was interrupted by the noise of his thermos- smelling strongly of black coffee- meeting the desk. A can of Red Bull appeared next to it, and she watched in wide eyed shock as he popped both containers open.

"I'm going to die," he murmured under his breath before dumping the energy drink into the dark liquid and then tossing the whole thing back. She continued to stare in horror as he finished the beverage, set the thermos back down, and let his head fall forward onto his arms.

The teacher's entrance released her from the mortified yet interested captivity her mind was in, allowing her to regain her sense. She just shook her head.

"Moron," she whispered.

"I heard that," he grumbled, turning his head to fix a single eye on her.

"Who said I didn't want you to-" she started to quip back, then cut off as the last minute caught up with her. He lifted his head, still looking at her, and almost had his forehead hit the wood as she reached over and yanked on his right arm, intent on seeing his wrist.

"What the hell?" He snapped with a glare that morphed into curiosity as her eyes met his. In one moment, her eyes had shifted from being clouded over to absolutely sparkling, and she was laughing so loud that the teacher was calling out to her irately. She directed her smile to the head of the class and apologized, playing it off as having had too much caffeine- like the man next to her- that morning.

He still kept his attention on her, even when she let his arm go and turned to the desk. He gazed at her in wonder as she got her notebook and a pen and began writing. When she finished, she slid it toward him, allowing him to see the note.

Hello, Moron. My name is _. This meeting was definitely not what I had expected it to be.

If he was clueless before, he was absolutely dumbfounded now. He was about to ask what she was getting at when she pulled her wristband away to reveal the words she had grieved over for so long. As he read them, his own voice echoed in his head, causing him to smirk. His hand quickly reached out to steal her pen, and he wrote his response. When she read it, she had to cover her mouth to muffle yet another laugh.

Hey, _. The name is Daiki, not moron, and I can assure you that I have no plans to actually die any time soon. I've got a lifetime of hell to give you before I go.

There you have it. This was inspired by a tumblr prompt that had the friend I wrote this for and me in stitches. It was a lot of fun to write, even though it starts out so dismally.

I hope you enjoyed this, and I will treasure every ounce of constructive/positive feedback I receive. If you can't say anything nice, please don't say anything at all.

Ta ta for now, lovelies!
Chlyri