Word Count: 498
Summary: It's Okay to disappear until you feel like you again
Pairing: Soobin X Reader
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The messages from Soobin had stopped, and you could tell he was pulling away. It wasn’t like him to go quiet for so long, and something in your gut told you that he was hurting.
At first, you respected his space. He had been distant, and you didn’t want to intrude, but as the days passed, you couldn’t ignore the growing concern in your chest. You hadn’t heard his voice, seen his smile, or gotten one of his goofy texts in what felt like forever.
So, you made up your mind. You’d give him space—but not too much. You couldn’t let him disappear entirely, not when you knew he needed someone to hold onto.
You showed up at his apartment one evening, hesitant but determined. When he opened the door, his eyes looked tired, weighed down by something he wasn’t saying. He gave you a weak smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
You didn’t ask him anything. No, “What’s wrong?” or “Why are you shutting me out?” Just a quiet, “Can I come in?”
He stepped aside, and you followed him into the living room, the silence between you thick and uncomfortable. You both sat down, but he kept his gaze lowered, his hands fumbling with a hoodie sleeve.
You let the quiet hang for a moment before speaking softly, your voice gentle but firm.
“It’s okay to disappear, Soobin. If you need to be alone, I understand,” you began, your words carrying a weight of understanding that you hoped he would hear. “But I want you to know that I’m here when you’re ready. You don’t have to carry this alone.”
His eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was looking right through you. He swallowed hard, then opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.
You sighed, not frustrated, but with the softness of someone who had seen enough hurt to know how to handle it. You moved closer to him, just enough to be within reach, then gently cupped his face. His eyes closed, and he leaned into your touch like he hadn’t realized how much he needed it.
“You don’t have to explain anything if you don’t want to,” you murmured, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Just… let me be here for you, okay?”
A shaky breath escaped him as he opened his eyes, and for the first time in a long while, he looked vulnerable—like he was willing to trust you enough to be seen.
“Thank you,” Soobin whispered, his voice rough. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
You gave him a small smile, wrapping your arms around him as he leaned into you. He didn’t speak after that, but his body relaxed against yours, his weight heavy in a way that was familiar, comforting.
And for the first time in weeks, you felt like he was starting to find his way back to himself, too.
Word Count:1.6K
Summary: "You’re in my way," Soobin called, his voice low and commanding.
She turned to face him, your eyes sharp, assessing him with a gaze that was anything but intimidated. "You think this is your way?" she asked, a slight smirk on her lips. "You’re just like every other villain who thinks the world revolves around their whims."
Pairing: Soobin X Fem! Reader
Disclaimer: Please be aware that this is apart of the from the ashes series. This series will have aspects of violence, weapons, angst, blood, injuries, killing, and will heavily focus on oppression and segregation of mutants, Look after your mental state if any of these make you uncomfortable please.
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Choi Soobin was a man of ice, the villain whose chilling presence could freeze entire cities in an instant. His powers were as unforgiving as the cold that radiated from him, a reflection of the emotional fortress he had built around his heart. No one dared to stand in his way—not heroes, not civilians, not anyone. He was a force of nature, one that struck without warning and left only destruction in his wake.
But even the coldest ice can crack.
It started with an artifact. Soobin had heard rumors of its power—an ancient relic imbued with elemental energy, said to amplify the abilities of its wielder beyond any known limit. His mind raced with the possibilities. With that power, he could reshape the world to his will, no longer bound by the limitations of his freezing powers. When Soobin arrived at the museum where the artifact was kept, he wasn’t alone.
She was there.
A rogue archaeologist, known for her talent in locating rare artifacts, had managed to get her hands on the same relic. But unlike Soobin, who sought to claim its power for himself, she was here to prevent anyone—villain or hero—from obtaining it. The artifact was too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands.
Soobin paused at the entrance to the room, watching her stand in front of the artifact, her back to him. The chill of his presence didn’t faze her in the slightest.
"You’re in my way," Soobin called, his voice low and commanding.
She turned to face him, your eyes sharp, assessing him with a gaze that was anything but intimidated. "You think this is your way?" she asked, a slight smirk on her lips. "You’re just like every other villain who thinks the world revolves around their whims."
A flicker of something—curiosity, perhaps—danced in Soobin’s cold, calculating eyes. "I’m not like other villains," he muttered, the air around him beginning to frost over.
His powers surged, conjuring jagged walls of ice that encased the room, trapping her inside. But she wasn’t afraid. With a quick movement, she dodged the nearest spike of ice, slipping between the walls he’d erected with ease. Soobin’s eyes narrowed.
"Impressive," he acknowledged, his voice tinged with something unfamiliar. Was it admiration?
She smiled, her movements fluid as she danced around his icy traps. "You’re not as cold as you think," she said, the words sharp enough to cut through the freezing air. "If you were, you wouldn’t hesitate."
The statement hit him harder than the cold ever could. The walls he had built, the walls he had hidden behind for so long—they weren’t as solid as he believed. For the first time, Soobin hesitated.
Instead of attacking, he stood there, watching as she vanished into the shadows, leaving him with the unsettling feeling that he hadn’t fully understood her. Or perhaps, that she had understood him better than he’d ever wanted anyone to.
Days passed, and Soobin found himself tangled in a game he couldn’t quite win. Wherever he went, she followed, slipping in and out of his reach. Each encounter left him more intrigued, more frustrated. She didn’t possess the powers of a hero—no super strength or flashy abilities—but her mind, her resourcefulness, made her an adversary he couldn’t easily shake.
Her tactics were clever, always staying one step ahead of him, challenging him in ways no one else had. And each time she evaded his grasp, she left him with more questions. What did she want? Why did she keep fighting against him?
But it wasn’t just the chase that consumed Soobin—it was her. She was unlike anyone he had ever encountered. She didn’t fear him. She didn’t back down. And in those brief moments when he allowed himself to watch her, he could almost see through the cold, see the warmth that flickered beneath her exterior.
For her, it was the same.
Soobin was dangerous, unpredictable, and devastatingly powerful. But beneath the ice, she caught glimpses of something else. Something fragile. Something human. He wasn’t the villain he pretended to be—he was a man caught in the grip of something darker than just his powers.
One night, during a storm Soobin created to destroy a city he felt had wronged him, the winds raged uncontrollably. Ice and snow tore through the streets, and in the midst of the chaos, she found herself injured—caught by one of Soobin’s erratic gusts of frozen wind.
When he found her, collapsed in the snow, something inside him stirred. He didn’t think, didn’t question it—he picked her up, carrying her through the storm to a hidden lair deep in the mountains.
He didn’t know why he did it. Maybe it was because she had shown him a part of himself he had long buried. Maybe it was because, for the first time in years, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving someone to suffer.
Soobin wasn’t a hero, and he would never be one. But he couldn’t let her die.
When she woke, she found herself in an unfamiliar, cold room, but the source of the chill wasn’t Soobin’s powers. No, this time, it was something different. His presence was quieter now—less oppressive.
"You’re my enemy," she whispered, still weak from the injury.
"I know," Soobin said softly. "But I won’t let you die."
His words carried a weight she hadn’t expected. And when he began tending to her wounds, carefully and with uncharacteristic gentleness, she realized that the man she had been chasing—the villain she had believed him to be—wasn't as unfeeling as he appeared.
And maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t the only one with walls to break.
She remained in Soobin’s lair, recovering from your injuries. He treated her with an unexpected tenderness, but his coldness was never far from the surface. It was a delicate truce between the two, one based on necessity rather than trust. Yet, as the days wore on, something shifted—both in the air and between them.
One evening, as the moonlight bathed the mountain peaks, Soobin stood by the window, his back to her. His breath formed mist against the glass, but his eyes were far away, lost in thoughts she could never fully understand.
She sat up, the blanket rustling as she shifted. "You’ve been quiet," she said, her voice soft, but not without an edge. "Too quiet."
Soobin didn’t turn around. "I’ve been thinking," he muttered, almost to himself. "Maybe that’s the problem."
Her brows furrowed, but she kept her voice steady. "Thinking about what?"
He finally turned to face her, his eyes colder than the room around him. "About everything. About why I’m not like you. Why I can’t just..." He trailed off, his words heavy with something unspoken. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, the icy façade he had so carefully built cracked.
"You’re different," she said, her gaze steady, challenging. "And you hate it, don’t you? The fact that you don’t want to be the villain anymore."
Soobin scoffed, shaking his head. "I’m not the good guy, remember?" His voice was sharp, colder than any ice he could create. "I’m the selfish one. I take what I want. I do what I want. I don’t do the right thing."
She stood, her heart pounding in her chest. His words were like daggers, but she refused to let him push her away. "You’re not selfish. You’re afraid. Afraid of letting go of the only thing that’s kept you alive for so long."
For the first time, Soobin’s mask of indifference slipped, and she saw the truth in his eyes—the raw vulnerability he had buried deep within. "I didn’t ask for this," he murmured, his voice low, a mixture of frustration and something else—something softer, something almost... pleading.
She took a step toward him, her heart torn between the desire to help him and the fear of what he might do if she got too close. "You didn’t ask for any of this. But it doesn’t mean you’re stuck with it forever."
Soobin laughed bitterly, the sound empty and hollow. "You think I can change? You think I’m capable of something better?"
Her eyes locked onto his, unflinching. "I think you’re capable of a lot more than you realize."
He stared at her for a long moment, the weight of her words settling between the two. For a brief second, the icy walls around his heart wavered, as if her presence was the warmth that could thaw him. But then, just as quickly, the walls went back up. "Don’t make me something I’m not," Soobin said, his voice cold, but not as sharp as before. "I won’t be what you want me to be."
"I don’t want you to be anything," She replied quietly, stepping closer, her voice soft but firm. "I just want you to stop hiding from yourself."
There was a silence that stretched between the two, thick with unspoken words and emotions neither of them were willing to fully admit. Soobin looked away, the battle inside him waging once more.
"I’m not the hero," he said, voice cracking slightly. "And I never will be."
She reached out, gently placing her hand on his arm, grounding him. "No one’s asking you to be the hero. But maybe, just maybe, you don’t have to be the villain either."
Soobin closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The warmth from her touch was like a spark in the cold, but he pulled away before it could grow any stronger.
"I don’t know how to be anything else," he muttered, voice distant once more.
She watched him carefully, her heart aching for the man who had been trapped in his own misery for so long. "Then you’ll learn. Because, Soobin, there’s still time to choose who you want to be."
But he didn’t respond, and the silence between them felt heavier than ever.
