Five/Aidan Imagines [BoyxBoy]

Truth or Dare [PARTIALLY SMUT]

Yes, I'm back. No need to scream. I have a lot of more imagines for y'all coming TODAY (I think), and a lot of it is smut so I can make y'all happy. And sort of me as well. You're welcome.

Also, I am just going to put this bluntly so I don't write a huge fucking paragraph about it, but I don't like Aidan nor Five. I think they suck, no offense. So at this point, when I refer to both of them, I see them as my own characters with their own demeanors and own interests. I don't see Aidan as a celebrity who sings and acts, rather a boy who loves the city and taking sky pictures 24/7. While Five doesn't care for his powers, rather he only really cares about drugs and annoying Klaus.

In my mind, I view them to appear COMPLETELY different than what they look like in real life and on the TUA show. So, yeah. I'm not really writing Aidan/Five fanfics anymore, but only characters I've made up in my mind. You can still imagine them to be who they really are if you want. I don't care.

Anyway, here's a smut imagine for you (if you want to skip to it, which I would honestly be annoyed with, but you can if you want, it's at the end).

Warning: cursing, mentions of drug use, and sex.

❤︎︎❤︎︎❤︎

My E/C eyes watched as a wooden fan revolved above me, sending cold gusts of air blowing at my exposed arms, ridged with goosebumps. A low hum spun with the blades that cut through the air, letting the soothing noise be the only sound in the bedroom. An occasional clearing of the throat could be heard, or a shifting of the sheets, but otherwise, my attention was dead set on the littlest of changes in the environment that I could find. The air mattress that bubbled and wobbled with every turn of my head when I glanced at the moving shadows beneath the door began to irritate me.

Does a sleepover consist of a severe lack of talking and wasted time on our phones or drowning in Spotify music? With my fair share of experience and the invitations to numerous gatherings with my friends and family members, I highly doubted so.

After what seemed like hours of staring at the rough popcorn ceiling and picking the skin off of the sides of my bleeding nails, I sighed silently as my hand made to plug in my earbuds to my iPhone and shoving the small objects into my unoccupied ears. Though the room was lit by a nearby lamp, my eyes squinted against the light my phone produced, but made it through the pain when I tapped on my music app almost by muscle memory. Much lounging and insomnia boosted my phone hours to an extreme as my music was the only thing I had ever resorted to for comfort, whether or not my room full of childhood memories was around. It was childish; even I came to recognize that. What 18 year old boy that played football and had populous friends squeezed onto a stuffed animal longingly each night, sometimes crying while trying to crush that little bit of happiness left into his chest? Me, asshole.

Take that as my biggest secret, along with my masked sexuality. Sure, it was uncommon for boys my age to come to the conclusion that our sexualities were to not be taken lightly, especially if they lingered in the LGBTQ+ range. It was a struggle for us, especially me, to out ourselves to our relatives or to the people that we were close with. Hint, I hadn't told anyone yet. Though I kept it hidden to the best of my abilities, a friend that I was closest with had his suspicions, seemingly he was staring right at me as I closed my eyes to my overwhelming music. My palm tapped against my chest to each pummel of a beat I found so satisfying to listen to, oblivious to the watching gaze of the friend that allowed me to spend the night at his house that night.

Right before the delicious beat drop of my cherished song, fingers pressed against my shoulder, halting my swaying head. With an exhaled sigh and a deft pausing of my playlist, I pulled my earbuds out from my ears and opened my eyes to see Aidan, a friend of mine since sixth grade, laying shoulders up over the edge of his bed. His long, dark hair curtained the side of his face, framing it perfectly, and his black eyelashes slowly fluttered with each bored, yet pointed, blink he gave to me, hinting of his misery without my attention.