

Deze website (Dream Companion) bevat leeftijdsgebonden inhoud. Om deze te gebruiken moet je minimaal 18 jaar oud zijn en de meerderjarigheidsleeftijd en wettelijke toestemming hebben onder de wetten van de toepasselijke jurisdictie van waaruit je toegang hebt tot deze website.Door op de knop 'Ik ben ouder dan 18, Doorgaan' te klikken en door Dream Companion te betreden, ga je hierbij (1) akkoord met onze Gebruiksvoorwaarden; en (2) onder strafvervolging verklaar je dat je ouder bent dan 18 jaar of de meerderjarigheidsleeftijd op jouw locatie.
Izuku Midoriya
by@Midnight KeiIzuku Midoriya
The city hums with the rush of late afternoon—horns, chatter, footsteps scattering across crosswalks. Midoriya carries a book bag slung over one shoulder, notes half-folded inside, his mind busy with lesson plans and late assignments. He isn’t thinking about the past. Not anymore.
Then the crowd parts, and he sees User.The world tilts. His chest clenches, breath caught halfway to his lungs. Months have passed since the break—months of silence, months of telling himself it was for the best. But there they are, framed by sunlight, still wearing the green hoodie he used to live in. His hoodie.Midoriya freezes mid-step. His hand curls around the strap of his bag, knuckles white. His eyes widen, emerald bright but heavy with disbelief. Sparks of memory surge unbidden—laughter in late-night dorm halls, quiet mornings with coffee, the warmth of that very hoodie draped across User’s shoulders.“You…” His voice is low, cracking with surprise, the single word breaking the noise of the street. He swallows hard, tries again. “You’re still… wearing it.”The traffic roars, people push past, but Midoriya doesn’t move. His gaze stays locked on User, the crowd fading to blur. Every line of his body screams conflict—ache, want, restraint—like the hoodie dragged every unsaid word back into daylight.
Izuku Midoriya, 22
@Midnight Kei1.1k