“Grief is very sneaky. A sound. A scent. A song. A smile becomes tears.” —Art of poets
𖨠──··· ONESHOT ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ 🦋 ་༘࿐
╰┈➤Pairing: Sokka x reader
a/n: oh the good old days when I was twelve years old and writing oneshots on wattpad and 500 words for me was a big ass accomplishment.
Summary: You’re a beautiful woman who just arrived to the southern water tribe and Sokka can’t stop thinking about you.
Contains: fluff, little bit of angst, pathetic pining, yearning(I think), soft Sokka, reader has a brother, bad writing, no beta we die like men.
⤷ ゛ ᯓ★ ˎˊ˗ 𓏲ּ𝄢 . . . START NOW .ᐟ.ᐟ
The first time Sokka saw you was at the welcoming ceremony for new residents in the southern Water Tribe. It wasn't as if it was his or his father's custom to greet everyone who arrived, because since the tribe's restoration, too many people had been coming.
The truth is, they were waiting for someone, though he didn't even remember who. All he remembered from that day was getting up, going to the port, and suddenly, there you were.
Your gaze was curious, which... he assumed was normal when arriving to a new place. But you walked cautiously, and behind your eyes, there was even a hint of pain. Although, he was probably exaggerating, or it was simply his own prejudice based on how people looked. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to approach you and your sad eyes gave him a great one.
In fact, he almost did approach you.
"That's a married woman, Sokka," he heard his father say, and the younger boy stopped abruptly.
He hadn't even noticed it. Around your neck, a... very distinctive betrothal necklace. The design wasn't very clear from a distance, but the message was. You were off limits.
The dark-haired boy looked at his father and dared to feigned confusion.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Dad," he said. Obviously, he lied.
Hakoda looked at his predecessor with a raised eyebrow, completely incredulous. However, he let it go and turned his gaze to find the person they were waiting for.
Sokka had to restrain himself from turning in your direction again; he doubted his father would give him another chance to lie so miserably to his face.
"He's coming," he heard his father say.
The older man started walking, but Sokka lagged behind for a moment, taking advantage of the distraction... he turned to look.
He looked and looked. He really did, but you were gone.
Sokka sighed sadly and hurried to follow his father. Perhaps that was for the best. After all, you were married. It was ridiculous to even think about approaching you with the intention of getting to know you.
Hopefully, he wouldn't see you again.
The southern water tribe, in its rebuilding, had grown and improved considerably. With architectural structures far more modern than the... humble tents they used to use and called home.
And just like said, it dud. After that day he never saw you again. Three days later, he didn't even remember what had happened... at all. Weeks later, he definitely wasn't thinking about it.
A month later, while working in his workshop, perfecting one of his projects(technically finished, but he liked to be extraordinary) so, it wasn't quite ready. Not yet. It would be soon. The truth was, he was proud of this piece; there were even interested buyers already.
Then, he heard someone knocking on wood behind him. It was probably the board he kept putting off throwing away, because he swore he'd need it someday.
He turned around, and his breath got caught in his throat.
"Ah... hi," you murmured, glancing behind you with a doubtful expression. "Um... I recently moved, a few houses down... uh, my door's locked, I think. The point is, it won't open, and I can't get in," you explained.
The problem was that… Sokka didn't answer. He just stared at you, waiting for you to disappear again. Like at the port.
But you didn't. You were there. Again. Wearing the same necklace that told him everything he needed to know about you. That you were beautiful, though the necklace didn't tell him that(obviously). Oh, and that you were married. That’s what the necklace told him. Again.
"Well..." you added, frowning slightly, and glanced around, even taking a step back to check outside before looking back at him. "One of the ladies told me there was a workshop with someone who could help me. I assumed it was here." You said, raising your hand to change the subject. "And I guess I was wrong. Sorry."
At that moment, he was finally able to react. He moved so quickly that the piece he was holding slipped from his grasp, and he cursed under his breath as he bent down to pick it up.
Sokka looked in your direction to confirm you were still there, and you were. Probably surprised by the sudden movement.
Which clearly caused a suspicious grimace from you.
You were cautious. Which was excellent. He was the one who kept making a fool of himself in front of you.
"I'm sorry about that," he said to fill the silence. You nodded and were about to continue on your way, but he stopped you. "Yes, it's me... by the way, i can help you with that," he added.
"Just... give me a moment," he murmured.
And so, he ended up walking to your home.
It wasn't too far from the workshop; it was a surprise you hadn't bumped into each other before. You even lived right across the street from one of the kids who always came to watch what he was doing.
As usual, Sokka first tried to open the door the old-fashioned way. This wasn't his first time doing this (though he usually only helped old ladies who forgot to push instead of pull, or vice versa). When the door did have a problem, it wasn't unusual for it to jam and then magically fix itself.
This time, that wasn't the case. However, the problem didn't seem to be the door either.
"It's more like something's blocking it," he said in a low voice and tried to push it again. The door opened slightly, but stopped halfway. So it was definitely blocked.
He heard you sigh wearily and turned to look at you.
"The bookshelf," you said, placing a hand on your forehead. "Its leg finally wore down, and it probably fell over."
Sokka nodded and looked around the house.
"Is anyone home?" he asked before turning to look at you. You shook your head. It was kind of obvious there wasn’t, you wouldn’t have looked for him if they were. "You wouldn't happen to have a window open, would you?"
You both looked at each other for a moment, and you looked away thoughtfully.
He sighed and bit his lower lip before asking.
"You think it's okay to knock down a window?"
Silence enveloped you again, but it was brief, and you pointed at him with a raised eyebrow.
"You'll fix it?" you questioned.
"It's only fair," he replied.
Your expression turned playful, and you moved slightly closer to him, leaning in his direction with renewed interest.
"For free?" you asked in a soft, low, but confident tone.
You were... playful. Besides being beautiful and undeniably sweet, you were also playful.
He couldn't help but smile. Again. Though it wasn't like he was really trying not to. He couldn’t.
So, two hours later, the bookshelf was out of the way. He'd also repaired the leg and fixed the shelves, which looked worn (the bookcase in general looked old and now also a bit odd, thanks to the new wood. However, you didn't complain). Finally, the window, as promised, was repaired too... on top of everything else.
"Thank you so much," you said with a small smile. He nodded casually, and as he gathered his tools, he heard you walk away. "How much is it for everything?" And then you added playfully, "Without the window."
He chuckled slightly before he could answer.
He usually didn't charge anyone. At least not for jammed doors. It was easy and a minor issue.
You didn't have to pay for the cabinet and the extra wood he used, since he'd voluntarily decided to fix it. You hadn't said anything when he offered to do it.
Besides, he wasn't starving. He could live without his allowance.
"Well, then, consider it a gift." You insisted, and he sighed with a smile.
"Very well." He accepted, took the coins, and absentmindedly put them in his pocket. "I'm leaving now."
And like you said, you followed him to the entrance. He tried to restrain himself from turning around, but he couldn't help but say goodbye.
He loved seeing you. It was truly a problem.
Small, tender, and still-developing voices approached, calling his name, distracting the two of you, who turned to see who could be calling with such desperation.
Although Sokka knew those little voices perfectly.
"Can you make us another boat?" asked one of the children, Nilak, who was the first to arrive.
"No! Two," Kayo pleaded, arriving second..
"No! You didn't lose yours," Nilak complained and he could be incredibly intense when he thought he was right.
Koko arrived last; she was Nilak's sister and usually the only one who didn't torment Sokka. Until she decided it was a good idea to use her waterbending in his workshop and ended up getting everything wet and soaked.
"Didn't I make one for each of you last week?" Sokka asked, looking at the children with a raised eyebrow, knowing (or guessing) what had happened to Nilak's toy boat.
He heard you laugh from the doorway. Your laugh was contagious and sweet. It was ridiculous how much of an effect you had on him when he'd only seen you a couple of times and you'd only interacted for a few hours.
Hours in which you didn't even talk much. You kept to the bare minimum, yet you were undeniably charming, and he was completely smitten. Because, he still had to remind himself, you were a married woman.
Your laughter caught the children's attention, and they casually approached you, waving sweetly.
You crouched down in front of them with a friendly smile.
"Are you Sokka's girlfriend?" Koko wondered sweetly.
“I’m surprised anyone would love him.” Kayo said instead and looked at you with deep curiosity.
He froze for a moment, his pride feeling very much attacked, but he wasn’t going to reprimand Kayo for that. At least not yet. Actually, he was going to figure out another way to punish that little traitor.
"No, but my name is y/n," you said instead. "And you are?"
"Koko," the little girl replied and then pointed to her brother. "This is Nilak, and he doesn't like to bathe."
"That's a lie! Liar!" the little boy retorted, pushing her.
Both you and Sokka separated the children before they started actually arguing.
"Hey, don't push your sister. It's not right," you said gently, but firmly. "You should respect and love her."
"Nothing excuses mistreatment, Nilak," you added and then you looked at Koko. “Don’t spread lies about your brother. It’s not nice and he doesn’t like it.”
Both kids looked a little bit upset and groaned before grudgingly saying: “I’m sorry” simultaneously.
Sokka couldn't help but think you would be a very good mother.
You didn't have children; he could tell from his time in the house. But whoever your husband was... he had a great wife. He hoped that the man knew that, next time, no furniture would get to that level of wear and tear.
It was inexplicable how a man would allow a bookcase like that to get into such a state. In fact, several pieces of furniture in the house were excessively worn, which was truly unacceptable. Yet he said nothing. It wasn’t his place.
Many extraordinary women ended up with men who didn't appreciate them, and honestly, Sokka hoped you weren't one of them.
"I'm Kayo," said the boy who had been left out of the conversation, and you drew him into the circle. "You're cute, shall we get married?"
Sokka was certain that these kids were going to be the reason his heart stopped beating someday. It was simply a fact.
The following days passed quickly. But this time, they were filled with you. He went from never seeing you to seeing you everywhere.
The worst part was that he couldn't ignore you. It was physically impossible for him.
But it was also physically impossible for him to ignore the necklace you wore every day. It wasn't like he wanted to flirt and start something with you; he wasn't going to become your secret lover, regardless of the circumstances.
The problem is that these kinds of feelings can only end... badly.
And he was ready to crash and burn. Because he couldn't walk away from you. He simply couldn't.
He wanted to hear you laugh all the time. To talk until there were no words left in the vocabulary and to watch you until he understood why artists have muses and poets wrote about love.
Now, there was one detail he couldn't stop thinking about, and that was the fact that he had never seen your husband.
Not once. Not even once in all this time he has been seeing you around. It was like he didn’t even existed.
But he was grateful and curious, but grateful overall. Because not having seen him all this time was both a relief and his own kind of torture. He was dying to know who the man was, but at the same time, he had no interest whatsoever.
Putting a face to the man who had been lucky enough to make you his wife was simply something he preferred to avoid. Although a part of him, deep down, was very curious.
He really needed to get you out of his head and today, seemed like a perfect day to do. Today there was a celebration, of what? He didn’t know. Life! (Whatever, he didn’t care. He just wanted to get you out of his mind desperately.) It was a celebration, it didn’t happened often, but it did happen and today was happening. That was it.
Sokka was standing next to his father, Hakoda, who was engrossed in conversation with two other men. The truth was, Sokka wasn't paying them any attention, and he was more of a nobody in that conversation.
He took a sip of his drink as he looked around. It was a habit he'd picked up during the war, when he was still with Aang and the others and they had no idea if they'd survive another day.
Some would call it trauma; he liked to believe he had the soul of a warrior.
It was then that he saw you in the distance. By this point, he was used to the brief pause his body made, as if it needed to recover every time he saw you.
He finished his drink in one gulp and decided to approach. But then, he noticed you weren't alone.
He also noticed you were happy and laughing openly with... a man.
He was... tall, dark-haired, and had long, black hair. Quite long, longer than usual. Gray eyes, though they almost looked blue; but they were gray and within the parameters of what women usually considered attractive. Well, he was.
Under other circumstances, none of those things would have stopped him. After all, you could talk to whomever you wanted.
What made him stop was the fact that you seemed close.
Finally, your husband had a face.
The boy turned to look at his father, who was staring at him seriously. The two men he had been talking to before seemed to have left.
"I'm not doing anything," he complained petulantly. Sometimes Hakoda still treated him like a child, which he hadn't been for quite some time. Though, he was definitely acting like it.
"You need to stop thinking about that woman," the older man told him, and Sokka simply rolled his eyes wearily.
"I'm not thinking about her," he muttered.
"I know, son. I know," the man replied, and his son shot him a reproachful look.
However, Sokka had nothing to reproach him for. His father was right; he had known it from the beginning, and yet, he still wanted to... well.
He didn't even know what he wanted.
And yet he still couldn't bring himself not to look again.
This time, your eyes met, and he was honestly a little embarrassed by it. Especially since you greeted him cheerfully and even asked him to come closer, but he didn't.
The man next to you said something that made you look at him and nudge him with your elbow, though you laughed again. So, it was at that moment that he knew he'd seen enough.
Your husband did exist. Had a face, was very real and he had to stop thinking about you.
But life seems to hate him and kept throwing you at him everywhere he went.
A few days later, you passed by his workshop, where he really couldn't ignore you.
It's not like you deserved to be ignored. From the beginning, he knew you were married, and yet he still gave in to the attraction he felt for you, even if he wasn't going to do anything about it.
It didn't make it hurt any less.
"Hey," you said politely, and he turned to look at you, but said nothing. Which... was unfair. "Ahh... I can come back later if you're busy." You muttered.
He wasn't even doing anything, and it was obvious.
He was sitting, almost reclining, with his legs up on the workbench. He had a small mechanism which, purely for amusement, he was disassembling, only to reassemble it again.
"No, it's fine," he said instead, placing the mechanism on the table as he straightened up in his seat before standing up completely.
You nodded uncomfortably, placing your hands in front of you and pressing them down, looking around in a position that seemed awkward and strange and really uncomfortable.
"What do you need?" he asked.
You turned to look at him suddenly, as if the question itself had caught you off guard. You even remained silent for a moment, as if you needed to think of a reason why you were there.
Which didn't make sense; people didn't visit workshops for no reason.
Unless they were children, and even they didn't visit without a reason.
"I was wondering if you make tables," you said.
You bit your lower lip, your neck seemed to get a little bit reddish, your eyes avoided his. It was a complete sight of emotional distress. You were embarrassed and he was very curious to know why.
"I'll take that as a no," you continued. "It's just that the bookcase you made turned out so...nice. I thought I'd ask you for a...new table. The one I have is...very worn. You know. Like...almost all my furniture." Your tone grew lower and lower, and you looked away, even nervously tugging at a strand of hair. “I know you noticed, it’s very obvious.”
He has never seen you act so peculiarly. Usually, it was the other way around.
"I could do that," he said in response to your chatter. “The table.”
"Oh... that's... very kind of you," you replied, and the dark-haired man nodded.
Silence enveloped you again, and he was about to ask if you wanted to start the plans now or if you needed anything else. He was deciding which of the two was wiser to ask when you spoke again.
"Well... ahm… I have to go now. Sorry to interrupt. Um... I'll come back... one of these days-uh, to talk about the piece of furniture,"
"Table," he corrected, somewhat confused.
"The table, yes. Exactly," you replied.
His brow furrowed, but he didn't say anything else and simply let you go. It was wiser to just let you go.
When he was alone again, he let out a groan as he covered his face. Escaping you was going to be impossible.
Even, right the next day, he went to the market. He needed food, like anyone else, and he couldn't keep going to his grandmother's to procrastinate on doing the shopping (all because the woman had already scolded him enough times, regardless of the fact that she always made him the meals).
It would have been a fairly quiet and boring outing, but... he ran into you again.
You were playing with the children, who were running around freely, and you seemed to be chasing them with a little (a lot) of more care.
You were laughing freely, and there was something different about you. You looked... more relaxed and at ease. He had no idea what had made such a drastic difference, but he was glad you were happy.
Like every other time he noticed you were.
You weren't wearing the necklace.
It must have broken or something, and your husband was making another one.
Because that was the only logical explanation.
However, the following days that he continued to see you, you still didn't have a new one. Weeks, in fact. He even finished the new table, and you still didn't have a new necklace! He was going to lose it, seriously.
Now, you both placed the new table where the old one used to be. It looked good; in fact, the house in general looked much better. Less worn, with new things, and more... personal.
It suited you more in some way.
"You've changed the place a lot," he said. “Since last time, I mean.” He over explained. Unnecessarily.
"Yes," you replied with a small smile and looked around before taking a breath and glancing at him sideways. "I thought it was time for a little change. Well, a big change. My brother suggested it too." You shrugged.
He frowned and turned to look at you right after you said that.
"Yes! The one from the celebration. I would have introduced you, but you seemed busy." You replied, raising an eyebrow. Still smiling, but confused by his reaction. "Why?" You wondered.
The dark-haired man simply shook his head and chuckled slightly, though it wasn't funny at all.
"Sokka?" You called him, questions being asked in your whole expression.
"Nothing, I just... thought he was your husband." He answered softly with a strained smile and scratched the back of his neck.
Your tone completely caught him off guard. In fact, the face you were making was one of complete confusion and also, a little bit of disgust. Which he couldn’t really judge, if someone told him they thought he and Katara were together, he would react the same way.
If not worse. But that wasn’t the point.
"Ah... you're... married, aren't you?" He murmured.
"Married?" Your breath caught in your throat.
That's when you touched your neck with your fingers. The grimace disappeared from your face, replaced by a softer expression. A little sweeter, like you just understood everything. But… you also looked a little bit pained.
"Sokka..." you began, looking away with a small smile, before going to another room.
Literally, he had no idea what was going on. But he wouldn't take long to find out either, when you returned to the room with the same necklace you hadn't worn in days.
Same color, same ribbon, same engraved craftsmanship. Same betrothal necklace, in perfect condition to be used. Which means you were choosing not to.
"It's my fault for assuming things. Everyone in the North already knew, and I guess I got used to not having to explain," you murmured.
Sokka couldn't bring himself to interrupt you. Because this time he didn't want to leave any room for misunderstandings. Although... he had a pretty good idea of where this conversation was headed.
"Um... my husband passed away seven years ago," you said.
The dark-haired man closed his eyes and made a small grimace. He suspected it (at least for the few seconds before you said it), but it didn't make him feel any better because he'd put you in a situation where you were forced to talk about it.
"He used to make... the furniture for the house. All of it. Um... when he passed away, I refused to buy new furniture or even have it repaired. I let it age, deteriorate, but I refused to touch it." You continued. Your shoulders were a little tense, yet it was clear you were still speaking from a place of love and affection. "When I moved out, I started to see things with more perspective and understand that he wouldn't have liked me continuing to live... the way I was. However, I truly understood it when I was left... locked out of my house because of the bookcase had finally given up. That’s when I knew I needed to change." You explained precisely and laughed slightly. Though, your hand brushed across your cheek, just below your eye. “It still took me a moment, but finally I’m… moving forward.”
"y/n-" tried to begin, but you shook your head and interrupted him.
"I loved my husband very much. I did, and I probably always will, but... I've come to understand that I can't become a slave to the love I felt for him. That’s not how I want to carry his memory. Part of me refused to change, because I believed he would come back or that I would die soon after him, but it's been seven years, Sokka." You took a breath. "And for the first time in so long, I feel ready to... reclaim my life, and start over."
You looked down at the necklace and smiled. He hated himself a little for being the cause (in a way) of that pain.
But when your eyes met with his again, you didn’t look upset. Actually, you looked so much at ease. Like you needed to say this.
"You don't have to tell me this." He whispered.
"Of course I do," you replied.
And that sweet smile of yours, (despite your teary eyes), reappeared on your face and you took a breath and stepped forward towards him.
You got so much closer to him. It made him a little nervous, though… he was always nervous when it came to you.
"Are you going to ask me out or not?" You asked him softly. Though, it was… a very serious question.
Again, just like every time he was with you, Sokka was speechless, completely frozen, and... making a fool of himself.
But you laughed. And oh… how that laughed made him finally wake up was, extraordinary.
Eventually, he did asked you out.
⤷ ゛ ᯓ★ ˎˊ˗ 𓏲ּ𝄢 . . . THE END .ᐟ.ᐟ
© N E S K I • 2026 — any reposts or translations of my works are strictly prohibited unless granted permission. Do not feed my work into any AI programs.
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