MHA Oneshots

Aizawa + (suicidal) reader

Another request from the ✨Sl33pd3pr1v3dS1mp✨. Just a wholesome (at the end) oneshot about a father - daughter relationship between Aizawa and his student❤️❤️❤️

TW: abuse and suicide

*long*

~•~❤️~•~

Your POV:

I walked home from school, a sense of dread growing inside me the closer I got to my house. I knew that, without a doubt, my mother was waiting for me, probably drunk, and was going to severely punish me for being late.

Every day after school I was supposed to come right back home, but Aizawa had wanted me to stay a few extra minutes to discuss my scores on our latest test.

I had walked home as fast as I could, but it was no use- I was still twenty minutes past the time I was supposed to be home by.

Ever since my dad went to jail, my mom has become abusive and alcoholic. There are very strict rules that I had to follow and if I didn't - equally severe punishments.

At first, she had made them so that 'I didn't end up like my father' but now I believe she genuinely liked to hurt me.

I had to tell my friends excuses, like that I have piano practice every day after school so that she doesn't get into trouble.

When I was accepted into UA I thought things would change. I thought that, maybe, she would realize how capable I was and I was training to be a hero, not a criminal.

But no. If anything she got worse, worrying that the pro heroes at UA would put her in jail for all the harm she's caused me.

I gathered my courage and opened the front door to our shabby little house.

"Where the hell have you been!?"

I winced, seeing the empty beer bottles and knowing that I was probably in for a beating.

"Mr Aizawa wanted to talk to me after cl-"

"That is no excuse!" she screamed "You know the rules!"

Her first came flying towards my stomach. What followed was a nightmarish, yet familiar, blur of pain and tears.

~•~❤️~•~

"Don't forget to cover up that bruise on your face." reminded my mom the next morning as if she hadn't been the one who caused it.

I nodded wordlessly and ate my small breakfast quickly, then ran upstairs to get ready before she could find something else to blame me for.

I hadn't done anything, but sometimes she punished me for what dad had done.

I got dressed, brushed my hair and covered up the bruise on my left eye masterfully with foundation.

I took one last look at myself in the mirror, before grabbing my backpack and heading out the door.

It was chilly, but hell will freeze over before my mom drives me to school, so I wrapped my uniform tighter around me, wincing as it rubbed against the many cuts on my arms.

~•~❤️~•~

I grabbed my hero suit from it's spot in the wall, fretting about getting changed into it in front of the other girls. What would they think when they saw the many cuts and bruises all over my body?

I tried to come up with an excuse, but none of them sounded believable. But I couldn't tell them the truth- that they were made by my own abusive mother and me using pain as a coping mechanism to escape the hell I lived in.