My thirst for aizawa never ends and I have a rather,,, fond interest on headcanons involving s/o/crush in a characters wet dreams Sooooooooo may I ask ur benevolentness to grace me
The dreams start out rather innocently enough–you’re nothing more than one face in a crowd of others, a familiar set of eyes for his mind to mull over in the dark of night, running through the many others that fill his thoughts. As the two of you grow closer, however, you begin to take a far more pointed place in Aizawa’s dreams, though some of them are no more odd than the ones previous.
He’d start to have common dreams of times the two of you would share together, such as spending lunch outside of the school campus, or maybe even sharing a secret or two in the teacher’s lounge when he wasn’t otherwise busy with his class. Most of the time they aren’t very exceptional, not at least that he remembers them much more than foggy memories by the time he wakes. Nevertheless, Aizawa finds them pleasant.
Around the time that the man starts to realize he has feelings for you, his dreams begin to take a far less innocent turn. The first one is the most vivid to him, one that almost mirrored a nightmare with the intensity of emotions that were hammering in his chest when he finally awoke, panting, only to find his blankets tangled around his limbs–he could still feel the ghost sensation of your lips on his throat.
They continue to get worse from there, especially as your and Aizawa’s relationship grows. It becomes harder to ignore them, to ignore the way he always woke up either on the edge of orgasm or past it entirely, instead waking up to messy sheets that he’d have to wash, like some sort of teenager who just got his hands on a porn magazine and didn’t know how to categorize the lust. Still, he did his best to ignore it, to suppress the many wet dreams each time he came to school, as exhausted as ever, to greet you each day.
When things increase between you both, it finally gets to a point that Aizawa can’t ignore the feelings anymore, and accepts the wet dreams for what they are in his life–he’s more frustrated than anything when he wakes almost on a nightly basis, cock throbbing between his legs and the ghostly vision of your naked form still so fresh in his mind. He’d curse each time, jerking himself off shamelessly in an attempt to finish where the dream had left off, your name a not-so-quiet snarl from deep in his chest. Damn you. Damn your eyes. Damn your body. Damn your smile. He’d come with a growl each time, his patience in trying to keep the dreams out of your relationship getting thinner.
From fucking in mildly obscured alleyways to making you suck him off while he’s grading papers, there is no end to the dreams or their curse over his mind and thoughts, driving Aizawa nearly insane until he finally accepts them, accepts the pleasure they bring him, and accepts that he completely, absolutely needs you. In bed. Against a wall. Over a couch. Somewhere, anywhere, he can’t take it anymore.
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