hi! can you write a story where wife reader and zuko have an argument over him being too risky going on dangerous adventures with the gaang when he has a wife and newborn at home and they go to bed mad at each other maybe even the fire lord sleeps in a guest room and it causes rooms to circulate around the palace and it’s him dealing with her silent treatment for a week and apologizes? like man is wrecked without his wife and baby and barely does his duties bc he misses them so much
silent treatment
summary : zuko frequently leaves to adventure with the gaang, but when you have your first child your concern for his safety grows and so does your feelings of neglect. another letter from aang leads to a fight, and a long week of silence for zuko.
pairing : zuko x fem! reader
cw : sfw! arguing, fluff.
divider by @cursed-carmine
zuko’s spot in the gaang had been secured long ago. he knew that, you knew that, everyone with eyes to see knew that. they were like his family, being of more importance than his nation, but never you. almost.
and yet, despite being the fire lord, responsible for an entire nation, he still felt the need to leave on wild adventures with aang and his friends to agni knows where.
this was fine and well when he first became the fire lord, when you were both young, when it was just the two of you.
however, the moment you fell pregnant you began to see the many issues surrounding his crusades. while he was gone you would walk through the castle, dreading any letter that arrived in fear it would be news he would not return.
any messenger who arrived from afar was turned away, in case they brought with them the announcement of his death.
you were beginning to picture the worst every time he stepped foot out of the borders of the fire nation.
it’s not like this fear was completely unwarranted either as he often returned injured or otherwise, unable to attend court for days.
then the baby came. you expected him to slow down with his adventures, make them every few years instead of every few months. but when a letter came, addressed to ‘flameo hotman’ himself, he was rearing to go.
you took it upon yourself to remind him that you JUST popped out his baby, to which he failed to see the issue. thankfully what he lacked in brains he made up for with his care, being there for much of your recovery. so you acquiesced, allowing him to go with a kiss and a long string of prayers for his safety.
one more. one last big crusade, then he can stay home to help you. that was his promise. he never went back on his promises. at least that’s what you thought.
and then another letter arrived, and he saw the fire nation through you like he never hoped to, red, hot, fiery anger blazing in every piece of you as you chastise him in the confines of your bedchambers. despite your anger, you know better than to disrespect him in the public eye of his court, especially as his ‘lowly’ wife.
“you’ve been back for 3 months at the least, do you have no desire to be with your wife and child?” the letter crumples under your tight grip, and zuko’s displeased wince has you squeezing it harder.
“what? of course i do, how could you even say that?” his eyes are full of concern and hurt.
“how could i say that? here, allow me to enlighten you. three months ago you promised me, you swore, zuko, that this would be the last one for a “long” while.” you feel immense relief that your baby is with your ladies in waiting, unwilling to allow her to ever see this side of you. even if she’s unlikely to remember it.
“and i thought that would be the case! i want to stay with you, i do!”
“so turn him down! you have every capability to reject his invitation. or is this your subtle way of saying that you would rather be free from your responsibilities? from us?”
“my love, c’mon you know that’s not what this is.”
“you’ve done nothing to show me that's the truth.” you toss the letter towards his feet, daring him to reach for it. he is smarter than you give him credit for, you’ll admit, as he steps over the crinkled paper.
“where is this coming from?” he reaches out for your dress, and you swiftly swat his hand away, in no mood to entertain his puppy eyes and delicate hands. in no way ready to accept an indirect apology through gentle touches and soft whispers, as he cares for you like a porcelain vase. you remind yourself that this discussion is for the wellbeing of you and your daughter and you will not be swayed by mediocrity, you want acknowledgement and reflection.
“do you have any idea what i went through during my whole pregnancy while you were gone on your little adventures? do you? i couldn’t be sure if you would back unharmed, let alone alive. i had to worry about not only the health of our baby, but also my husband who would rather risk his life for his friends that live in safety with his family.”
your eyes burn with tears you didn’t notice brewing. you’re not sad, you’re brimming with a rage that has been building for months and months.
he is silent and unmoving. the only indication of his attention is the furrow of his brow and the way his chews on his lip in frustration. even if he wanted to speak, you don’t allow him the opportunity.
“let me ask you this, lord zuko, is your fun worth more than your life? worth more than coming home to your wife, or your daughter having a father?”
“you know it’s not! you two are worth more than the entire world to me.”
“then you know how you will answer aang’s letter.”
“my love..”
“i’d like to be alone now. in fact, i’d like to be alone until you know for certain where your priorities lie.” you approach, gaze pointed as you brush past him, leaving him alone in your shared chambers.
that is the last words you speak before, what he will always remember as, the long week of silence. the first time a fight has left the room with you and carried itself alongside you like a protective shield, preventing him from getting in close. you won’t even let him near the baby, which may be a tad unfair, but you’re angry and not thinking straight.
you continue to perform your duties as the fire lady, diligent as you are, but you’re mean about it. he’s not ‘zuko’ anymore, not your love, he is lord zuko. fire lord zuko. you’ve shrunk him to not so much as a colleague in your mind.
it’s the only way you continue in your position as the fire lady, playing the role of dutiful wife for his court then leaving right after the dismissal of said court with a curt bow.
the tension between you two is felt throughout the castle by all. the court notices the subtle distance between you but doesn't verbalize this observation.
you sleep in the nursery with your daughter. your back is stiff, and your neck is crimped, from sleeping on the tiny futon within. you are kept awake all night long by the light of decorative fire ornaments, night lights for your baby. you don’t rest well.
neither does zuko.
he lays in the empty space of your previously shared bed, staring at the ceiling. his mind races with how to win your favor back. how to speak to you. he misses you. misses his daughter. he reminisces on your touch like it’s been years of your absence, when really it’s only been a few days.
he’s already rejected aang’s invitation and you know that, so why have you not returned to him?
when the end of the week approaches he begins to feel ill. distracted. and of course, you notice, but you are stubborn and strong willed.
you miss him too, but the hurt from feeling second to his ‘freedom’, an idea concocted completely on your own, overwhelms you too much to give in just cause he appears to be losing sleep. you want him to feel your absence a little longer, the way you felt his for nights on end. at least, you reason, he knows you and your daughter are alive and well.
the grand chamberlain drones on and on in the confines of zuko’s royal office, to which he casts a spiritless gaze. his thoughts are not on the affairs of his court, rather they are anywhere but.
he only thinks of you, of your baby. have the two of you eaten? what are you doing now? are you in the gardens? in the capital? in your bedroom.. alone.. without him..? should he go to you?
have you forgiven him?
“my wife...”
“what?”
“hm? oh.. um, what i said was, my life. as in.. i would give my life for this court, of course, chamberlain.”
“i believe you spoke of the honorable fire lady, lord zuko.” he stares at zuko with a silent contempt, then relinquishes his harsh gaze upon fully taking in the shell of the fire lord in front of him.
“i suppose.. my mind may have drifted.” zuko sighs, head falling back against his chair’s backrest. a pause, a moment of understanding and quiet contemplation between them, before the chamberlain speaks again.
“forgive my asking, lord zuko, but have you done something to upset the honorable lady?”
“why? did she speak to you? what did she say?” he straightens, like an arrow, gaze pinned to the chamberlain whose head shakes in dismissal.
“i assure you, lord zuko, that is not the case. in fact, it is quite the opposite, as the honorable lady speaks to none but your own child.” zuko frowns, another wave of guilt flooding his already weak stomach.
“she has not spoken to anyone?”
“not in the last week. perhaps she has taken a vow of silence to honour the beginnings of your child’s life?” it’s more than a stretch to suggest this, considering your daughter has been in the world for over three months now, but the chamberlain suggests it despite this. zuko releases a weak huff of laughter.
“yes.. i suppose, it may be that. thank you, advisor, that shall be all..” zuko waves him off with a gentle flick of his hand, the opposite palm sliding down his weary face. finally, he decides, this silence has gone on long enough.
he leaves his office with a start, tripping over his feet as they try to match his fervor. he searches high and low for you, every nook and cranny where you could be hiding from him. until it dawns on him, you’d barely left the nursery since you took shelter there.
he approaches the nursery quietly, cautiously. his palm, slick with a thin layer of nervous sweat, reaches for the door knob and hesitantly pushes it open.
you sit on the rocking chair in the corner, baby in hand, cooing at your daughter until the door creaks and makes his presence known. your eyes meet his for less than a second before they are stubbornly focused on your daughters chubby cheeks.
one glance at you is enough to have him feeling better, not whole, but no longer ill with worry. he walks to you, steps slow, like he doesn’t rule the nation but rather like that of a hesitant child. he points to the foot stool, unused, muttering a small ‘may i?’
“you’re the fire lord, you don’t need my permission to do anything. you’ve made that fairly clear..”
“i’m asking you if i may join you..” you nod, but still your eyes avoid his. he sits.
“are you well?” you nod once more. “and the baby?”
“she is fine as well.”
“good.. that is good,” he clasps his hands together, contemplative as he searches for his next words, “i rejected aang’s invitation.”
“so i’ve heard.”
“but you didn’t come back..”
“i wasn’t ready to.”
“and now?”
“you tell me.”
he sighs, slipping off the stool to kneel in front of you.
“please, don’t dirty yourself on my behalf, lord zuko”
“enough.” his tone is not unkind, but firm. your brow raises and his nods in apology, you listen despite this, eyes finally on him.
“i understand what you're doing.. and why. and i’m sorry,” he reaches for your hand and you can tell he expects to be swatting away again, a visual that makes your heart hurt, “i’m sorry for everything.”
you hold your daughter, who is drifting in between sleep and wakefulness, close to your body. zuko’s thumb rubs across the back of your hand, searching for forgiveness before he continues.
“i will never know how you felt back then, when i was gone, but i know now the power of absence. you have been gone from our bed mere days and i cannot sleep, i cannot eat, i can think of nothing but you. and i know that my safety is questionable on aang’s crusades. so.. i understand why you do not want me to go as often, if at all. i do enjoy a break from being the fire lord but i.. i never want you to think that i value my freedom more than you. i did not know the meaning of the word until you, until .. her.” his eyes drift towards your daughter, soft and longing.
“i know..” you admit quietly, freeing your hand from his grip to cup his cheek.
your thumb swipes across his scar, his eyes close like a dog being pet. your eyes sting with the threat of tears, but the closeness of him after days of distance overwhelms that part of you, a strange happiness patching any sadness lingering within. you tuck his hair behind his ear, his handsome face on display.
“you do?”
“of course i do, i married you for a reason, i know you value this family.. i was just hurt.”
“i know, baby, i’m sorry.. i’m gonna do anything and everything to make up for that.”
“this is enough for now.. i missed you.”
“yeah?” he smiles weakly, like he’s unsure if that's allowed. when you smile back, it grows more sure. he falls forward, arms wrapping around your waist and face resting against your stomach, “i missed you. so much. both of you.”
“i.. don’t mind if you go with aang every once and a while, but we need you here. safe.” your hand rests on his head, which he raises to look at you once more.
“i know. i’m gonna be better. i’ll be around so much you’ll both get sick of me.”
he stands, offering his hand for you to do the same, which you do. you calmly offer him your daughter, his face lights up. his back straightens, like weight upon weight are being rolled over his shoulders one by one. he takes your daughter in his arms, kissing your temple.
“our chambers have been so quiet without you, you’ll come back right?” you nod. “right now?” you smile at his eagerness, hand resting on his arm.
“sure, lord zuko, let’s go, i am dying for a nap on an actual bed. you’ll watch her right?” he leads you out of the room, and down the hall, baby in his arms as he wears the widest grin you’ve ever seen on his face. It’s infectious, bleeding onto you and making your lips curl upwards.
“yeah, i’ll watch her,” he looks at you with a sincerity you’ve never seen, “we’ll be right where you left us when you wake up, promise i’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”
Toji x reader | established relationship, y/n is sick, toji is...well, toji. It's soft but it's also him so it's not that soft, you know what i mean. anyway here you go 𖹭
You knew better than to ask toji for sympathy.
You'd figured that out pretty early on in whatever this was. toji didn't do sympathy. he didn't do soft voices or careful hands or any of that. he did blunt observations and bad timing and that look he gave you sometimes that made you forget what you were saying mid sentence. you had accepted this. you had made your peace with it.
so when you woke up feeling like something had crawled inside your head and set up camp there you didn't say anything. you just stole his shirt off the floor and shuffled into the kitchen and decided you were fine and this was fine and you were absolutely not going to make it his problem.
you made it about four minutes before he made it his problem anyway.
"you look like hell" he said from the couch. not even looking at you properly, he just knew.
"thank you toji what a lovely thing to say."
"i'm not trying to be lovely." he looked up then. actually looked at you, that slow assessing thing he did that always made you feel like he was reading something you didn't know you were broadcasting. "you're pale."
"i'm always pale."
"not like that."
you turned back to the coffee maker. "i'm fine."
"mhm."
Just two letters, completely flat and somehow it was the most annoying sound you'd ever heard in your life.
you focused very hard on waiting for the coffee and willed him to go back to whatever he was doing and leave you alone.
he got up instead.
you heard him cross the room. You felt him before he even touched you. he reached past you and turned the coffee maker off.
"toji-"
"you don't need coffee."
"i need coffee desperately-"
"water." he was already reaching for a glass.
"i am an adult," you said to the counter. "i am a grown adult person and i can make my own-"
he turned you around again, not roughly. he was never rough with you, or hardly ever, or only when you wanted him to be, which was a thought you did not need to be having right now with a fever and his hands on your waist and his face that close to yours.
he looked at you for a second. then his hand came up and pressed against your forehead and you absolutely did not close your eyes and lean into it. you didn't.
"fever," he said.
"small one."
"still a fever."
"toji i'm really-"
"bed."
"i just-"
"bed, yn." you stared at him. he stared back completely unbothered. that jaw doing absolutely nothing for your ability to be annoyed at him, which had always been unfair.. this man had no business looking like that at seven in the morning while you were sick and wearing his shirt and losing an argument.
"you're impossible" you told him.
"yeah." his thumb moved against your hip, and he said it so casually you almost missed it.
"bedroom." something about the way he said it the second time was different.it was lower. you felt it more than heard it and your brain short circuited a little which was his fault entirely.
"i'm sick," you reminded him. but mostly reminding yourself.
"i know." he looked at you. he mostly just looked at you until you understood.
"i'm not going to do anything."
"i know that."
"you've got a fever."
"i know."
"so stop looking at me like that."
"i'm not looking at you like anything"
"yn." just your name. it was quiet, a little rough around the edges. the way he said it sometimes that made your stomach do things you'd stopped pretending weren't happening. you looked away first. he made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh.
He steered you out of the kitchen with one hand at the small of your back, warm through the thin fabric of his shirt, and you went because your head hurt and he was warm and you were not going to win this.
he pulled the blanket back. you got in. he pulled it up and you watched him do it, these hands that were so careful with you in private, so different from everything else about him, and you thought about how long it took you to realize that this was toji being soft.
"stay," you said. he looked at you. "i'm cold," you added. which was true.
He stood there for a second, looking at you the way he did when he was deciding something, and then he pulled the blanket back and got in anyway. on top of the covers, still dressed, like he was making a point about something.
you turned into him immediately because you were cold and he was warm and you had given up being subtle about this a long time ago. his arm came around you. "you're really warm," you mumbled into his chest.
"you're really annoying," he said into your hair.
"you love it."
He didn't answer but his arm tightened around you. you tilted your head up to look at him. it was a big mistake. he was already looking down at you and he was too close and his jaw was doing the thing and his eyes were doing the other thing and you were sick, this was not the time..
he kissed you anyway, slowly like he had all the time in the world and had decided to spend some of it on this. his hand came up to the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone, and he kissed you like he was making a point without saying what the point was.
when he pulled back he was close enough that you could still feel his breath.
"sleep," he said quietly.
"that was mean" you whispered.
"yeah" the corner of his mouth almost smile.
"sleep yn."
"toji-"
"when you're better," he said like a promise and a warning at the same time. his eyes said the rest.
"okay?" your face was definitely warmer and it was not the fever.
"okay," you managed. he settled back. pulled you into him properly this time. your head on his chest, his arm heavy around you, his heartbeat steadier than anything had a right to be.
you were asleep embarrassingly fast. He looked down at you and stayed until your breathing evened out and then stayed a little longer after that and told himself it didn't mean anything.
it meant everything. he just wasn't ready to say it yet.
enjoy and stay soft homies, take care of yourselves 🌙
Zuko x reader | he has a bad day and shows up at your door ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
something soft for zuko nation
𖹭 𖹭 𖹭
Zuko didn't knock like a normal person.
He knocked like he was still deciding whether to run by the time you opened the door. Three quick raps and then silence, and when you swung it open he was just standing there, one hand shoved in his pocket, jaw doing that thing it did when he had too much going on inside and absolutely no idea what to do with it.
You didn't say anything. You just moved out of the way.
He came in, sat on your couch, and stared at the floor for a little while. You let him. You went to the kitchen and put the kettle on and by the time you came back with two cups he had his elbows on his knees and was rubbing the back of his neck like he was trying to erase something.
"Bad day?" you asked, even though you already knew.
"Meeting," he said. That was it. Just the one word.
You sat next to him and waited.
"I had the right idea," he said eventually. "I knew I had the right idea. And I still managed to say it in the worst possible way and everyone just kind of - " he made a vague gesture with his hand. "You know."
"Yeah," you said. "I know."
He picked up his tea. Put it down. Picked it up again.
"I've been doing this for years now. Trying to be better at it. Trying to just - say things normally, like a normal person." He laughed a little but it wasn't really a laugh. "You'd think by now."
You looked at him. At the side of his face, the scar you'd stopped noticing ages ago, the way he was frowning like he was angry at himself and had been for a while.
"You're really hard on yourself" you said.
"I'm realistic."
"You're really hard on yourself," you said again.
He finally looked at you. He did that thing where he held eye contact a second longer than he means to, like he forgot to look away and then decided not to bother.
"I just " he stopped. Started again. "I don't want to keep messing it up."
"Then stop expecting yourself to be perfect at things you're still learning."
"It's not about being perfect."
"Then what's it about?"
He was quiet for a moment.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I just feel like everyone else already knows how to do this and I'm always catching up."
You didn't say anything for a second. Just sat with that.
"For what it's worth," you said eventually, "you don't look like someone who's behind to me. You look like someone who's trying really hard and being really mean to yourself about it."
He made a face. "That's not comforting."
"It wasn't supposed to be comforting it was supposed to be honest."
Something shifted in his expression then. Just slightly. The tension around his eyes loosened a little.
He leaned back into the couch properly, for the first time since he got here, and let out a long breath through his nose.
"Sorry for just showing up," he said.
"Don't apologize for that."
"I didn't know where else to go."
You looked at him. He was looking at the ceiling now, one arm resting on his knee, and he looked tired in that specific way he got when he'd been carrying something heavy for too long and had finally put it down somewhere.
"Zuko."
"Hm."
"You can always just show up."
He didn't say anything. But after a moment his hand moved across the cushion between you and his fingers found yours, sort of awkwardly, like he'd practiced the idea of it but not the execution. You held his hand anyway. He squeezed once, quickly, like he almost didn't want you to notice.
You noticed.
Outside it was getting dark. Neither of you turned a light on. The tea went lukewarm and then cold and at some point his head tilted until it was resting against yours and you thought he might have fallen asleep except you could tell by his breathing that he hadn't.
He was just resting.
Just here.
You stayed like that for a long time and neither of you felt the need to make it into anything more than what it was.
