Miss One Puncher (BNHA x OPM x Quirkless-Powerful Reader)

Prologue and Y/N Info!

   *Author's Note: Hello luvs! This is my story I made. It might not be good but I kind of new to this stuff and I enjoy doing it. I wanted to write this story because I love the BNHA x OPM reader stories and I wanted to make one of my own. The first chapter is a quick prologue to this story. Chapter 2 is where the story actually begins. I do hope you enjoy this story. Warning: there will be mentions of abuse, rape, and suicide. So if you have problems with that, you HAVE been warned. Feel free to spam me and comment on what you think! Bye Luvs! -Author*

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The beginning of life's journey is a tapestry woven with threads unique to each individual. Whether hero, villain or the uncharted spaces in between, all traverse a path fraught with weariness and trials. Their motivations diverge—a kaleidoscope of reasons that propel them toward their destinies. Yet, at the genesis, we share a common origin—a blank canvas awaiting the brushstrokes of experience.

And so it was for Y/N. She entered the world like any other—a small, vocal bundle of life. Her cries echoed a primal anthem announcing her arrival. But unlike ordinary children, she grappled with a void—a hunger for attention and love that remained unfulfilled. From tender years, she navigated a landscape where warmth was scarce, where the embrace of others eluded her.

Perhaps it was this early ache that shaped her—forging resilience in the crucible of neglect. Or perhaps it planted seeds of longing, pushing her toward paths less traveled. Y/N's journey unfolded against a backdrop of silent yearning, a symphony of missed connections and unanswered calls. And as she stepped into the world beyond infancy, she carried with her the echoes of that primal cry—a plea for recognition, etched into her very being

Of course, Y/N found solace in the love of her mother and uncle. They poured their hearts into filling the void that echoed within her. Their affection wrapped around her like a protective cloak, shielding her from the chill of loneliness. Yet, life's cruel symmetry dictated that even this warmth would wane.

Her father, an elusive phantom, remained absent from her existence. His ignorance of her very existence was a silent ache—a secret shared only between her uncle and her mother. The truth lay buried beneath layers of silence, a fragile pact that held the family together. Perhaps her father was a distant star, shining in another galaxy, unaware of the daughter who breathed the same air on this fragile planet.

And so, Y/N navigated the labyrinth of love and absence, her heart a mosaic of longing and resilience. She clung to the love she knew, even as the specter of her unknown father loomed in the shadows. For secrets, like seeds, could either wither in darkness or bloom into unexpected revelations.

Four years into her life, Y/N experienced the ordinary joys of childhood—a life where dreams bloomed like wildflowers. Her heart beat in sync with the rhythm of heroism, and she aspired to don a cape, to soar among the stars. Happiness enveloped her family—a cocoon of love and laughter.

But life, that fickle weaver, wove a different thread into Y/N's tapestry. It was the day her uncle's heroism transcended mere stories. A speeding car, a moment of peril, and he stepped between danger and innocence. His sacrifice etched itself into the fabric of her existence, leaving an irreplaceable void.

The newly built grave stood as a silent testament—a marker for the man who had been both a father figure and support. Y/N gazed at it, confusion and grief swirling within her. How could one act of bravery alter everything? Yet, it did—the final push that nudged her toward a new path.