it goes one of two ways...

after a long day of school or work, there's nothing aang loves more than the feeling of come home to his clean apartment that he shares with love of his life. he'll cook the two of you a nutritious dinner, made with careful consideration.

you'll work in tandem to tidy everything up with quiet jazz playing in the background. candles are lit throughout your apartment, making the air warm and sweet.

you'd shower together. but not to have sex and only because aang asked you oh so nicely. "please, love," he begged, arms wrapping around your waist from behind. he'd hold you loosely, nosing at the column of your neck because he just wants to smell you. "jus' missed you, is all."

he'd use gentle hands to scrub your back, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as he washes off the soap, steam filling up the small bathroom. it's bad enough on it's own, but with aang's large, towering frame, you could hardly breathe. "sorry," he'd pout when he bumps into you and knocks your body wash onto the floor again, but he doesn't sound that sorry as he manhandles your wet, slippery body so that you're standing under the shower head. he pressed an apology kiss to the crown of your head, but you turned around to glare at him anyways.

it's once the night shift is over (big lights off, curtains closed, doors locked) and there's nothing other than the glow of aang's pc in your bedroom that the mood shifts.

you'd been laying leisurely on your bed, book in hand for the better part of an hour, whilst aang worked on his world in minecraft when he finally spun around with a frown.

it always starts the same.

"my love," he'd call out, voice all sad. you know better than to look up, humming noncommittally in response before aang calls out and says he's "so lonely" because you're "so far away."

the worst part is you know he's being serious, too.

you'd pretend to not know what he wants at first, much to his chagrin. he lasts all of three seconds before he's flying from his chair and onto the bed dramatically. resting his palms on your stomach, head atop of them, he'd look up with you big puppy dog eyes. "please..."

which always leads you here.

"hnng—" aang grunts, both of his calloused palm supporting the back of your head, thumbs brushing soothingly in your hair. "you're doing so good," he pants.

you've been working his length for over thirty minutes now, jaw aching and saliva dripping down your chin and onto the plush rug that aang placed under his desk ages ago when he first discovered that this was one of his favorite things to do.

you looked up at him, all tear-eyed, cheeks bulging with nothing but him.

the groan aang lets out is primal, head slamming back against the headrest of his chair as his fingers instinctively tighten in your hair before flexing to let go, afraid of hurting you. "don't look at me like that."

his hips stutter, bucking involuntarily into your warm throat when your tongue presses against the underside of his slit. precum oozes out, lubricating your mouth even moreso, allowing him to slide his large cock back and forth with ease.

he put up a good fight at first, he always does. headset firmly on, eyes fixed on the screen in concentration and providing nothing more than an occasional reassuring hand on your head to remind you that he knows you're there. but all it takes is one stroke, your hand coming up to pump the length that you can't fit into your mouth before the headset gets thrown off and he's pulling the chair back to see you.

and when aang finally comes, he'd start in your mouth but he's quick to pull out. he'd grip your chin tight in his left hand before pumping his fat cock with his right, right out whimpering as he paints your face with his cum. "ah—fu—" he'd bite down on his bottom lip, squeezing his eyes shut as he panted through his orgasm. aang would peek down at you, opening one eye with furrowed brows, and it makes him cum even harder. "mm—you're the prettiest girl i've ever seen," he'd state it like a fact.

the sight of you, there on your knees, looking up at him with his cum all over your pretty, pretty face is just too much for him to handle.

he's covered in a thin sheen of sweat and once he finally comes down from his high, he's breathing so heavily. but before you can even blink, aang hauls you up effortlessly and placing you gently on his lap. "you okay?" aang would whisper, hand coming up to wipe away anything obstructing your vision and breathing. his other hand would start rubbing at whichever knee he can reach.

sometimes all you can manage to do is nod, but aang never has any of that. "use your words for me," he'd prompt, cupping your face, patiently waiting for you to answer.

and once you've confirmed that you're good, thighs still quivering and face still sticky, aang's eyes would darken, voice lowering an octave as he says, "good."

next thing you know, you're flat against the bed. oh trust that the night is far from over.

orrr it'd go...and hear me out here...

sometimes, and sickeningly, aang likes you on your knees in front of him when he's gaming with sokka and zuko. it's soo wrong, he feels guilty, he really does. here are some of his closest friends, screaming in his ear about how they're playing ranked and aang's tanking them, damn it!

he should care. he usually does. but aang just can't bring it in himself to concentrate...

but idk maybe i'm just saying things, maybe we don't need to go there :)

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don't fucking ask me where this came from !! god forbid the aang parasite is singing in my head today smh