#ateez ff

The email hit your inbox at 11:47 a.m. on a Tuesday-that specific type of weekday where even the smallest inconvenience feels like a declaration of war.

You stared at it for a full sixty seconds, blinking, like it might vanish if you didn't acknowledge it, rereading the subject line three times before doing the only logical thing: slamming your laptop shut like it had personally offended you.

You weren't dreading the reunion.

No. That would imply you cared. But something about the idea of standing in a rooftop bar surrounded by people you barely remembered-glowing, coupled up, overly successful in ways that made your stomach twist on itself like old cables-left a sour taste in your mouth. Because your personal life? A wasteland. A barren, Netflix-and-takeout desert. No partners. No flings. Not even a promising situationship. The most consistent thing in your life was your favorite hoodie and the Korean convenience store clerk who knew your instant ramen preference by heart.

But the real gut-punch?

He was going to be there.

Your ex.

The one who ghosted you five years ago-no explanation, no closure. Just vanished like a bad plotline in an unfinished book. And now, apparently, he was attending. Probably with some gorgeous new partner, because of course the universe wouldn't let you live.

You absolutely refused to show up as the sad, "forever loner" case study everyone would side-eye between mouthfuls of catered food. There was no way you were showing up alone. Not when people still whispered behind your back about how he left. Not when your old classmates would tilt their heads sympathetically and say, "Still single?" like it was an illness.

But you also didn't expect to be this... rattled by a college reunion. Not after surviving exams, three apartments, two job layoffs, and a breakup that taught you how cold silence could really be.

Which is how you found yourself pacing your kitchen at almost midnight, phone clutched in hand like it held the antidote to your dignity. Because apparently, it did.

You had no plans, no one to turn to but you had one solution. Not a boyfriend. Not even a date. Just the nuclear option : Jung Yunho.

Your infuriating next door neighbor. Ridiculously attractive. Annoyingly charming. Radiating with the energy of a golden retriever.

And your only option.

Ten minutes of agonizing indecision later, you gave in. Scrolled down your contacts. Hit call.

The line rang once. Twice.

"Why are you calling so late?" Yunho's voice crackled through the speaker-low, sleepy, and unfairly sexy. Of course. He sounded like sin wrapped in warmth.

You shut your eyes and took a breath. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just... need a favor." A pause.

"I have this class reunion thing," you went on, words tumbling out before you lost your nerve. "And I don't want to show up alone. Could you come with me? As my boyfriend."

A beat. Then:

"You want me to what?"

You closed your eyes.

"Just-pretend to be my boyfriend. For one night. One weekend. Whatever it takes. Please."

Silence.

You pictured him in his apartment right across the hall, probably shirtless, one hand rubbing his neck, hair pushed back in that way he does when he's half-annoyed but intrigued.

"You realize you called me at 12:03 a.m. to ask me to be your fake boyfriend?"

"Yes. And I'm incredibly aware of how pathetic this sounds, thank you."

Another pause. Longer this time. You could practically hear him smirking. Then:

"Alright. I'm in. But I have conditions."

"Yunho-"

He cut you off smoothly.

"Come with me to my cousin's wedding in three weeks," he interrupted.

"I need someone to keep my nosy, conservative family off my back. And someone hot and sarcastic might just do the trick."

WAIT DID HE JUST CALL ME HOT ? No, don't think about that. Focus.

You snorted.

"So I'm your distraction?"

"Exactly. We're both getting something out of it."

"Fine," you said, a smile creeping into your voice.

"If it's just that, we have a deal."

A beat passed.

"And if we're doing this, I also have rules," you added firmly. "Three, to be specific."

"Of course you do."

You ignored the sass.

"Rule one: no kissing unless we're in public. And don't overdo it."

"Damn. Killing the fun at the very beginning, don't you?"

"Rule two," you said louder, "No staying the night. No crashing at each other's places. We keep our space."

"You're afraid you'll fall for me in your sleep?"

You could hear the grin in his voice.

"And rule three," you said deadpan, ignoring his teasing, "absolutely no real feelings."

"So we're playing house but emotionally constipated. Got it."

You groaned, flopping back on your couch.

"You're the worst."

"And yet," he said, voice dropping again, smooth and teasing, "you picked me."

You could practically hear him raising an eyebrow through the receiver. You didn't even need to be in the room to picture that infuriating grin. The truth was, you were more afraid of falling for him.

✧───⋆｡°❅°｡⋆☕︎˚ʚ❆ɞ˚☕︎⋆｡°❅°｡⋆───✧

The week passed in a blur of overthinking, text threads titled "Fake BF Rules (pls don't be weird)", and you making the tragic mistake of watching romantic K-dramas at 2 a.m. while stress-eating leftover garlic bread.

The night of the reunion arrived too fast- and not fast enough.

You smoothed down the fabric of your black cocktail dress in the mirror, already regretting the extra layer of lip gloss. You looked hot. Objectively. But your stomach was flipping upside down. Every time you glanced at the clock, your heartbeat doubled.

And then, a knock.

You opened the door to Yunho standing there like he belonged on a magazine cover that said something like: "How to ruin lives just by existing."

Hands in the pockets of his black slacks, a loose white shirt tucked in, sleeves rolled to his forearms, and the first two buttons open over his chest. His blonde hair peeked from beneath a backwards black cap, looking disgustingly, unfairly hot effortlessly put together in a should-be-illegal way. His expression was lazy, half a smirk.

"Hey."

You blinked. -and promptly forgot how to speak.

"You're-uh. Wow."

He grinned, eyes flicking down your figure with a quick once-over that made your skin buzz.

"You're wearing that?" he said, voice low, a little hoarse. "Guess I'm the lucky one tonight."

You coughed to hide the very real and immediate urge to drag him back into your apartment.

"I thought fake boyfriends were supposed to be humble."

"I'm a multi-talented actor," he said, stepping inside and reaching out to fix your necklace like it was the most natural thing in the world. "Humility is extra."

His fingers brushed your collarbone. You froze.

Rule #3: No real feelings. You silently reminded yourself.

His eyes skimmed you slowly, unapologetically, pausing at your neckline before meeting your gaze again.

"You're gonna make it hard to pretend this is fake."

You rolled your eyes and stepped out, locking the door behind you.

"Let's get this over with."

The reunion venue was high-end-a rooftop cocktail bar wrapped in string lights, city skyline twinkling beyond the glass. Everyone looked polished and annoyingly successful. Champagne flutes, soft jazz, and conversations that started with "So what are you up to now?" and ended with humblebrags.

Yunho laced your fingers with his the moment you stepped in, his grip warm and confident. You tensed slightly.

"We're barely through the door."

He leaned down, lips brushing your ear.

"Public, isn't it?" he murmured. "Just following rule one."

He smirked and your stomach flipped at his words. You wanted to throttle him.

You should have expected Yunho to take the role so seriously, by the time you reached your ex-classmates, his hand moved behind your back, his cologne doing criminal things to your senses, and you were wondering why your heartbeat would not calm down.

The night started in a dizzying blur of forced smiles and fake laughs. Yunho played the boyfriend role too well-his hand always on the small of your back, his smile charming, his jokes just sharp enough to make people second-guess if he was serious.

He smiled at everyone. He remembered names. He told a story about how you met that was so ridiculous it made people laugh-something about tripping over him in the hallway and calling him a "6-foot inconvenience."

You were getting used to it-his heat beside you, the soft pressure of his hand at your waist-until it happened.

He walked in.

Your ex.

Wearing the same smug expression he always had when he thought he was the smartest man in the room. And he wasn't alone-some gorgeous, sharp-dressed person was clinging to his arm like arm candy. You stiffened, heart racing. But Yunho noticed before you could even say a word.

"So this is the infamous ex?" Yunho leans down to whisper as your ghost-from-the-past walks toward you with a drink in hand.

"He's not infamous. He's just... trash."

"Want me to punch him or just look hot?"

"You already look hot."

Yunho smirks.

Your ex approaches with a smile that tries too hard.

"Didn't think you'd come."

"Didn't think you'd care," you fire back sweetly.

Yunho didn't hesitate.

​He pulled you closer—so close your spine registered the steady, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest—and pressed a lingering, tender kiss to your temple. The warmth of his breath contrasted sharply with the glacial, predatory edge that entered his demeanor the moment he turned his gaze toward your ex. His voice was all honey-slick composure, dripping with an effortless charm that completely masked the underlying warning.

​Extending one hand in a casual, expectant gesture of greeting, he kept his other arm securely banded around your waist, holding you flush against him as if nothing could ever pry you apart.

"Hey, man. I'm Yunho. I don't think we've met." he said, offering his hand for a shake, his tone dripping with polished hospitality.

Your ex stared down at Yunho's extended hand for a fraction of a second, a flicker of irritation crossing his face before he reluctantly reached out to shake it. Yunho’s grip was firm, almost crushing, anchoring the handshake a beat longer than polite society dictated before dropping it effortlessly.

Then, your ex raised an eyebrow, looking past Yunho to you.

"You brought a date?"

"Boyfriend," Yunho corrected smoothly before you could say anything, his smile never reaching his eyes, though the delivery was as casual as if he were discussing the weather. "Of two years."

​You elbowed him sharply in the ribs, a silent reprimand for the sheer absurdity of the timeline he had just invented on the spot. He didn't even flinch; instead, he simply tightened his grip, anchoring you even closer to his side.

​You stared up at his profile, completely dumbfounded, your eyes wide as you looked at him as though he had suddenly sprouted wings. Or horns. Or perhaps both.

"Though she still refuses to stop stealing my hoodies."

You nearly choked on your champagne. Your ex faltered. Yet you didn't miss it. His gaze flicked between you and Yunho, and something about his sudden smirk made your stomach churn.

"Didn't think you were the type to settle down."

Yunho's hand moved lower-dangerously close to your hip. You glanced at him in warning, but he just smiled and kissed your cheek.

"She's not the one who ran."

It was soft. But it landed like a slap. Your ex's face twitched.

You grabbed Yunho's hand, tugging him toward the hallway near the restrooms.

"We're getting more champagne," you lied.

Once out of sight, you spun around.

"What was that?"

Yunho shrugged, innocent.

"What? Was I too convincing?"

You opened your mouth-but then he stepped forward. Close. Way too close.

"You're shaking."

"I'm not-"

His hand came up, cupping your jaw. Gentle, grounding.

"You don't have to pretend for me." His voice was lower now, intimate, quiet. "But if I'm gonna pretend for you, I'm going all in."

Your breath caught.

You hated how close he was. You hated how your chest fluttered. You hated that he smelled like expensive cologne and warmth and something unfairly addictive.

"Yunho..."

He leaned in, lips brushing yours.

You panicked. "Rule number one."

"No kissing unless we're in public?" he murmured, backing you gently into the wall. His arm braced beside your head.

He tilted his cap slightly and grinned. "And right now we're in public."

Damn it.

You glared and whispered. "You're evil."

Your breath hitching as his thumb slid up to rest right against the pulse fluttering in your jaw. Fast. Erractic. Traitorous.

"Yeah," he whispered, his grin ghosting across your lips. "But I look good doing it."

For two agonizing seconds, the space between your mouths shrank to absolute zero. You braced yourself, your hand tightening on the lapel of his jacket— to push him away or pull him closer, you weren't even sure.

But Yunho didn't close the gap.

Instead, he tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your mouth before lingering on the nervous flutter of your throat. A low, quiet chuckle vibrated through his chest.

"I'm a man of my word. I don't cheat."

Your heart was hammering so loudly against your ribs you were convinced he could feel it through his shirt. "You're enjoying this way too much."

He pulled back just an inch, his eyes gleaming with infuriating triumph.

You absolute bastard.

You almost mouthed those words. But your brain was still trying to process whatever just happened. It was as if you could still felt the electricity through your body even if Yunho was now standing less closer. But still too close.

You swallowed hard, trying to regain some semblance of the composure you’d spent the last week practicing in front of your mirror.

"You're impossible," you muttered, smoothing the front of your dress with trembling fingers.

Yunho’s expression softened, the sharp, defensive edge he’d worn for your ex completely dissolving. He reached out, his thumb gently brushing across your cheekbone—not with the theatrical flair of an actor playing to a crowd, but with a quiet, grounding tenderness that made your breath catch all over again.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice losing its teasing cadence. "Seriously, you okay?"

The genuine concern in his eyes was almost worse than the flirting. It was disarming.

"I'm fine," you lied, looking away toward the hallway entrance.

"I just... didn't expect him to bring someone. And I definitely didn't expect my fake boyfriend to invent a two-year relationship and threaten a man with a handshake."

Yunho let out a low chuckle, stepping back just enough to give you some breathing room, though he kept his hands casually tucked into his slacks.

"Someone had to remind him what he lost," Yunho said simply, though there was no malice in it now—just a quiet certainty that made your stomach flip in an entirely different way.

"I know seeing him must suck. I can take you home if you want. We can leave him and his little arm candy to choke on their champagne."

You looked up at him, caught off guard by the sudden shift.

Underneath the swagger, the designer clothes, and the fake boyfriend theatrims, Yunho was actually paying attention. He had seen right through your sharp comebacks back there.

Your shoulders dropped just a fraction, the tension finally beginning to drain out of your spine.

"No," you said softly, a genuine, small smile finally touching your lips. "No way am I letting him think he chased me away. We're staying."

Yunho’s expression softened into a look that made your stomach flip all over again—this time, without any help from the ex.

"That's my girl," he murmured, offering his arm to you with a mock-formal bow that made your eyes rolled.

The walk back onto the rooftop terrace felt entirely different from the first time you stepped through the glass doors. The low thrum of ambient jazz and the chatter of old acquaintances no longer felt like a hostile tribunal waiting to pass judgment. With Yunho’s solid, warm frame walking beside you—his hand resting with casual, proprietary weight on the small of your back—the room seemed to shrink into something manageable. Your ex and his impeccably dressed companion were nowhere in sight, swallowed up by the sprawling crowd near the illuminated bar, but the phantom sting of their presence had completely evaporated.

The rest of the evening blurred into a surreal montage of stolen glances, lingering touches, and a level of domestic choreography that felt entirely too natural for a couple who had invented their relationship over a late-night phone call.

You traded polite pleasantries with people you had spent years trying to forget, laughed at jokes that were only mildly painful, and watched with secret amusement as Yunho effortlessly charmed a cluster of former sorority sisters who were hanging on his every word. He played the devoted partner with terrifying perfection, leaning in close to whisper ridiculous commentary into your ear that forced you to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing out loud. For the first time all evening, the knot of anxiety in your chest dissolved into a warm, buzzing hum of pure adrenaline.

By the time the rooftop bar’s string lights began to dim and the crowd thinned out, your ex was nowhere to be seen—having apparently decided that getting systematically out-maneuvered by a six-foot blonde neighbor in a black cap wasn't how he wanted to spend his Tuesday night.

The ride back to your apartment building was quiet, wrapped in the comfortable hum of the city at 2:00 a.m.

When the elevator doors dinged on your floor, you stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, your heels clicking against the carpet. You reached your door, fumbling through your small clutch for your keys, hyper-aware of Yunho standing just a few inches away, leaning casually against the doorframe of his own apartment directly across from yours.

"Well," you said, forcing a bright, casual tone as you finally fished the keys out. "The fake boyfriend act was a 10 out of 10. You deserve an Oscar. Or at least some free drink."

Yunho didn't move. He crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes catching the amber glow of the hallway sconce.

"I'm a man of expensive tastes. A free drink won't cut it anymore."

You unlocked your door and pushed it open, turning back to face him with a smirk. "Right. Well, thank you. For saving me back there. I owe you one."

"You certainly do," Yunho agreed, his voice dropping to that low, smooth register that made your skin tingle.

He pushed off the doorframe and took a slow step toward you, closing the distance until he was standing right on your threshold.

The air between you suddenly felt entirely too thin.

"Don't forget," he murmured, his gaze dipping briefly to your mouth before rising to lock with yours, "My cousin's wedding. You're returning the favor."

You swallowed hard, your fingers tightening around the edge of the door. "I remember. Three weeks."

"Good," Yunho whispered, his hand coming up to rest on the doorframe right beside your head, caging you in just enough to make your breath hitch. "Because my family is ruthless. You're going to have to pretend you're madly in love with me."

Before you could think of a sufficiently sarcastic response to mask the frantic pounding of your heart, Yunho smiled—a slow, knowing, dangerous thing—and stepped back.

"Sleep well, neighbor," he said softly, turning away and walking across the hall to unlock his own door.

You stood frozen in your doorway for a full ten seconds, watching him disappear inside his apartment before the door clicked shut. You closed your own door, leaned your back against it, and slid slowly down to the floor.

Three weeks until his family's wedding.

You touched your fingertips to your temple where his breath had brushed hours ago, realizing with a sudden, terrifying jolt that the hardest part of the fake dating arrangement wasn't going to be surviving his family.

It was going to be surviving yourself.

Thanks for reading me ! Hope you like it so far ? Let me know your thoughts? ? Wanna see Yunho break the rules yet or no ?? 🫣🤭

Honestly I was planning to do a short OS at first but maybe I should do a full fanfic ?

🔔 Want to join the tag list? Please review my Tag list requirements first.

Yunho has been wearing earplugs to sleep for eight months. For almost exactly as long as you’ve lived next door to him, your bedrooms sharing a too-thin wall. He likes living in an apartment building with other people, in a big city surrounded by bodies. It’s comforting at night to hear footsteps above or a door swinging shut from the unit across the hall. The walls have never been so thin he can hear much detail from any of his neighbors, but the presence of people around has always made him feel comfortable and a little less alone. 

The woman who lived in your apartment before was older, extremely quiet and kept to herself. He rarely ran into her in the shared hallway let alone heard her through the wall. He never once had to think about filing a noise complaint or trying to find another unit in the same building until you. He never once had his sleep disturbed or his patience tested. Not once. Until you.

He didn’t mind having a noisy neighbor at first, the faint sound of your voice or the music you’d like to play through the drywall didn’t bother him. Most of the time he liked it. For the first couple of weeks he enjoyed the way your sharp laugh would carry, and once he heard you singing k-pop in the shower and he caught himself smiling about it for the rest of the day. He’d bump into you in the hall, a few words exchanged here and there, a pretty blush in your cheeks that he wanted to be responsible for putting there. You quickly became his favorite neighbor even though you really didn’t know each other. 

It changed after May. He remembers it all too clearly, back to his place after a long weekend away with friends. He had collapsed into bed wanting to fall asleep and stay asleep for as long as possible, a hangover still nagging at him, when he heard your whine through the wall. It was desperate, thready and laced with pain, and he felt his alpha responding to the very clear sound of an omega in distress before his mind caught up with itself. He was on his feet in a second, frozen and listening intently. 

When you whined again, voice caught in a pleading sob he took a deep breath. That’s how he knew you were in heat. Even through the wall the smell of you was thick, syrupy and intoxicating. He cataloged it quickly - brown sugar and butter, rich vanilla, and he could practically taste the blueberries bursting on his tongue. The feeling in his body was all encompassing, he wanted. He felt his cock grow hard at your scent, at the sound of your pretty mewling. 

Please, alpha - The sound of you begging ripped him from fantasy and brought him closer to the wall. Were you alone? Thoughts flipped through his mind at lightning speed. Were you in pain? Touching yourself to ease the ache? Were you wet?

The sound of a man’s voice had ruined the illusion, shame dousing him like ice cold water and jolting him back away from the wall. 

Present. 

Yunho’s stomach rolled. He knew you lived with someone, an alpha, he knew you were taken. He’s known it since he saw the two of you walking into the building together carrying heavy boxes labeled bedroom, bathroom, kitchen, but for a moment he forgot. In that moment he heard too much, and he certainly shouldn’t have this kind of a reaction to an omega that simply isn’t his. 

At the first chorus of your loud moans through the wall he grabbed his already packed duffle bag and spent three nights in a hotel. All the while he tried to forget the way his mouth watered at the idea of your sweet cunt. He gets it out of his system with a fast fuck with a beta from the hotel bar and about a dozen cold showers. 

When he gets home he starts sleeping with earplugs all the time. He doesn’t want to hear your voice through the wall anymore, or his, and god forbid he has to hear another man fucking you again. He’s not taking the chance. 

He tries his best to avoid you after that. You bump into each other of course, that’s what living side by side will do, but he keeps it even more brief and polite than before, he gives you distance. He’s sure you must think the worst of him, he caught your sheer embarrassment when you saw each other after that weekend, but he really can’t let himself care. It doesn’t matter how good you smell or how sweet he thinks your face is, you have a boyfriend. 

Your next heat comes like clockwork three months later, and he starts to consider how quickly he could sell his condo. He doesn’t want to, he loves this apartment, but he’s not sure he can take it. In the end though, he stays. The week after your second heat you smile shyly at him in the hallway, caught out in the hall in your slippered feet with a messy haystack of hair, and he thinks he might just have to find ways to run into you more often. He buys a blueberry muffin on the way to work and tells himself it doesn’t mean anything. 

It’s your third heat that drives his instincts into overdrive. 

He realizes you’re due for another while he’s cooking breakfast on a Saturday morning, he can hear you deep cleaning next door and his eyes go a little unfocused while he stares at the wall calendar on his fridge. He does quick math, curses under his breath, and starts to think about making hotel plans. You’re at least a week away though, so he keeps it in the back of his mind like an item on a to-do list. 

That Sunday he hears you and him fighting through the wall. It’s not the first time he’s heard raised voices from that side, but this time is different. It’s loud and angry and full of bitterness, and even though he can only catch every few words when you’re towards his wall of the apartment, he gets the distinct impression that this alpha of yours isn’t taking care of you the way you need to be taken care of at all. 

On Tuesday he notices that your alpha’s car is gone longer than his normal work hours, and come Wednesday morning it’s still nowhere to be seen. It gives him an uneasy feeling, a tense knot in his gut that nags him relentlessly. 

He never does book that hotel. 

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You’ve made up your mind. If Hyunshik can’t make it back in time for your heat, you’re leaving him. As soon as your head is clear and it’s safe to leave this apartment, you’re done. You were so hopeful about living together, the idea of it being such a clear next step for your relationship, but to watch it crumble around you despite all the effort you put in was really starting to take its toll. 

Your heat had been circled on the calendar for months. You reminded him about it so many times, trying to make sure he had his own leave approved. He brushed it off every single time, he had it covered, it was fine, it would be fine, you were just worrying. None of that made you feel secure, and none of it made you want to spend another heat here with him. Except Hyunshik has always been good at apologies and even better at making you think a problem was all inside your head, so you let it go. Then he told you about the trip, a week long business trip to Japan. Panic had flooded your body, and you begged him to find a way out of it but he refused. It was too important for his career, and the idea of taking heat leave would just make him look bad to his bosses. Besides, he had told you, he would be back on Friday. 

In the moment you had wanted to remind him that your heat was scheduled to start properly on Friday and leaving you alone for your pre-heat and cutting it that close was cruel, but you knew it wasn’t worth it. He was going to do what he was going to do, and you were just going to have to wait. 

On Thursday you wake up in a cold sweat with a distinct throb between your thighs. You don’t even think about what it means, you just think about how badly you need to get off. You roll from your back onto your stomach and stuff a balled up pillow between your thighs, rolling your hips in a needy, rutting rhythm until your skin is slick with sweat and the bed beneath you creaks, coming with a choked moan that you do your best to aim into the mattress to muffle the sound.

Your heat is a day early and very suddenly you want to cry. 

The only thing you can think to do is seek out your alpha, it’s only natural even though in your rational mind you want to curse out Hyunsik for leaving you. You call him again and again, but he doesn’t pick up a single call. Texts go unanswered. You whine into your bedding, the first pulse of a real cramp starting to build in your belly.

Hours pass as you ride out your first real heat spike, fucking yourself over and over again, and while it helps it doesn’t soothe the deep intrinsic ache inside you. Your sheets are tangled and damp, and if you’re being honest you need to figure out how to get out of this bed and into some clean clothes that don’t smell of slick and panic, but it’s so much harder to sit up than it should be. 

After what must be your fifth orgasm, you start to cry. Your messages with Hyunsik lie open next to you, a chain of unanswered pleas for your side and absolute silence from his. Your body is tired already, your muscles shaking and achy, and despite your endless orgasms your body still throbs with need. You’ve always had hard heats, but in the past you’ve always had a partner, and a knot is a knot even with a less than perfect partner. Without one, you’ll never be able to tamp down the spikes. 

A sudden pounding on your door tugs you right out of your doom spiral. A chill runs up your spine. There’s no way you can open the door in your state, dripping with heat pheramones and looking like a fucked out mess. They’ll go away. 

The pounding comes again, and you scramble up to your feet so you can pull on a robe as if that will give you some kind of protection from whoever’s insistently knocking on the other side. 

A third knock comes, but this time the person on the other side speaks, “y/n? It’s, well, it’s Yunho from next door,” 

Your stomach twists, of course he’s here. He probably heard you through the wall and is coming to tell you to quiet down, something to put a cherry on top of this truly terrible day. He’s been so strange with you since you moved in, and you wonder if it’s because he could tell you had been harboring a bit of a crush, despite the boyfriend in your bed. 

“y/n?” He calls again, and you realize you never responded. 

Your brain feels sluggish, “It’s not really a great time,” 

There’s a long beat and then he knocks again, this time much more softly, “I know, but I just wanted to check in on you, make sure you were okay,” 

Your omega preens at that, so desperate for a little comfort after the stress of your week, but your rational brain reminds you that despite your neighbor’s kind face and pleasing scent, you don’t actually know him. You step a little closer to the door, “I’m fine,” you tell him, “thank you for your concern.” 

The next pause is longer, and you wonder if he’s already gone, but then you hear him say, “You don’t sound fine,” 

Your stomach knots, your head throbbing with a desperate ache, “Well, I am, thank you again,” 

He sighs, and there’s a light, non-threatening thump on your door, “Omega, I know your heat is starting. I know you’re alone,” 

You take two wide steps back from the door, your hand finding the edge of the sofa to hold onto, “I think you should leave.” 

“Sorry,” He groans, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for that to come out so… wrong,” 

“W-what did you mean?” 

“Just… listen I don’t want to come in or anything, I just noticed that your boyfriend’s car is gone, and I heard you through the wall,” Blush heats your cheeks but he continues, “I can hear that you’re in pain, and I just wanted to see if you need anything.” 

Your hands are on the door handle before you can really think it through, but you can hear him on the other side. You catch his deep scent, and ice passes through you, “I’m opening the door,” you tell him, “can you step back?” 

You hear him move immediately, his footsteps shuffling back, “Okay, I’m away,” 

This is risky, kind of stupid and frankly impulsive, but something about his voice tells you he’s safe. You’re safe. That’s the thought you hang onto when you crack open the door and peer through the narrow slit. He looks stressed, his dark hair a bit of a mess and there’s a purplish shadow under his eyes, but you also think you’ve never seen someone look better. You swallow tightly at the sight of his broad, wide shoulders and the way his t-shirt fits his shoulders and hugs the indentation of his pecs. 

He raises his hands in a non-threatening gesture and his eyes soften when you open the door a little further, “Hey, neighbor,” 

“Hi,” You glance behind him down the hall but there’s no one else. 

“Am I right?” He asks softly, “Is your alpha gone?” 

You can feel the tautness growing in your belly at his tone, the sign that another round of cramps isn’t far. You need this to be quick, “He’s away for work,” you nod, “it’s bad timing,” 

“Your heat’s early?” He asks. 

“A day,” You nod, “he’s supposed to be back sometime tomorrow,” 

Yunho frowns, shifting a little from foot to foot as he thinks, “He can’t come any earlier?” 

Your jaw tightens as you think of the string of unanswered texts and calls, “He’s not answering his phone,” you didn’t mean to sound quite so bitter, but maybe you are. 

The alpha in the hall drops his hands to his sides, and you watch as they tighten into fists before relaxing again, “Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do,” 

“We?” Your breath quickens, and you fight the urge to jump back into your apartment and shut the door. 

“Relax, omega,” He soothes you, “I won’t touch you, I give you my word.” 

Your heart feels fast like a rabbit’s, fluttering in your chest, and you wish your primal brain wasn’t so sensitive and reactive. 

“You’re going to make a list of anything you need and put it right outside your door,” He nods towards your doormat, “I’m going to go get dressed, and in ten minutes I’ll come back and get the list. I’ll get you any things you need, any things you might want, and drop them off for you.” 

“You’d do that?” Your hand slips away from the doorknob so you can step a little further out into the open to see him. 

His eyes flick over you as you do, his throat jumping as he swallows, “Of course, I will,” 

“Why?” You manage. 

His shoulders drop, “You’re hurting,” he says simply, “and I can help, I’m not going to let you struggle alone.” 

You feel tears pooling behind your eyes, and you nod, “Thank you, Yunho-ssi,” 

“Just Yunho,” He smiles and your stomach flip flops pleasantly, “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself better sooner, and I’m sure this is scary for you, but I promise, you’re safe with me.” 

Yunho. You like the sound of it, you like the sound of him. 

You push your feral little omega thoughts down though and nod, “I trust you,” 

“Good,” His smile widens, “now go back inside and you write that list. Nothing’s off limits, don’t worry about the cost, anything you need you’ll get.” 

You don’t know how he’s so adept at saying exactly what you need to hear at this moment, but you’re grateful for it. The panic and inconsistent heat spikes feel a little calmer after even just this short conversation with him, and you nod. He gestures for you to go inside and shut the door, and you do. He doesn’t move until he knows your door is shut tight, and then you hear him cross the hall back to his own apartment. 

A list. 

This alpha wants you to make a list of anything you might need to withstand your heat alone. 

You find a pad of paper and a pen on your kitchen table and you start writing it out as quickly as possible, trying to follow his guidance of not worrying about what you write down. The list pours out of you faster than you thought possible.

water bottles

a few ready to serve meals? pasta, soup, instant rice? 

ice cream (strawberry matcha if they have it, cookie dough if they don’t)

energy drinks / electrolyte supplements

three packets of red ginseng

honey lozenges 

raspberry leaf tea

a soft blanket (if you see one)

vibrator

You almost cross the last two off the list or start all over again, but before you can really give it any thought you make it back to the door, leave the note folded under the edge of your doormat, and close yourself back in the safe cocoon of your apartment. 

When your heat is over you’ll never be able to look this alpha in the eyes again, but that was a problem for future you. 

You huddle up on the corner of your couch and wrap a blanket around your shoulders, this one is lovely when you’re not in heat, but when you are you just feel every fiber of the scratchy wool against your skin in a way that makes you want to shed your skin. You hope he gets something really soft, something fleece or velvet, something you can bury your naked body in later and just fall asleep. 

You listen intently and a few minutes later you hear his door open, footsteps, and then quiet. You blush into your hands at the idea of him reading your list and actually going out in public to buy you a sex toy, but there’s nothing you can do about that now. What’s done is done. 

You wait a while, you check your phone again and again, you pace. 

You don’t know how much time passes between Yunho picking up the list outside your door to the knock you’re hearing now, but it feels like it’s been hours. 

You hear his voice through your door in the throes of another spike, only this time you’re writhing on your couch with a hand down your sleep shorts. His voice makes you freeze, “Hey,” he says, “I’m back, I’ve got plenty of provisions for you,” 

Your chest is heaving, your body sticky with sweat and slick, and you don’t know what to do. 

He knocks softly again, “You alright in there?” 

All you feel is panic, the idea that he might find you like this, but then the sudden thought that he might leave. Your brain feels foggy and hot, and you need a knot but no matter how many fingers you stuff inside yourself it’s just not right. A stuttered sob breaks through your lips, and your heart pounds faster and faster, you're frozen solid. 

“Omega?” His voice is warm and rich and too far away, “I have everything you need, can you open the door?” 

Tears fill your eyes, and you shake your head against the couch even though he can’t see you. 

He waits a little longer and then knocks again, “Can you hear me, y/n? Can you come to the door and let me help?” 

Another sob bubbles up out of your chest, this time louder and more desperate. 

“Fuck,” You hear him curse, “fuck, fuck,” 

He’s angry, upset with you and you curl into yourself, tucking your knees up to your chest and pressing your eyes shut tight, he’s so disappointed and it fills you with dread. 

“I’m…” His voice sounds distant, “omega, I’m coming in… please, fuck, please don’t hate me for this,” 

You brace yourself, tears coming hot and fast, and you don’t know what your body is so tensed up for and expecting, but your front door swings open softly and you hear his heavy footfalls. 

“Omega?” He calls into your open apartment, and you hear the moment he sees you in the way his voice changes, “Oh, sweetheart, it’s alright, you’re alright,” 

“Hurts,” You bite through the rippling cramp, “it hurts so much,” 

His voice is closer now, “You didn’t lock the door,” he says, a soft chastisement, “that’s not safe, little omega,” 

“I’m sorry,” Your voice is thready, “I’m so sorry,” 

“Shit,” He curses again, “no, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I took too long getting you what you need, but I’m here now. You’re doing fine, alright? You didn’t do anything wrong,” 

The tight fist of panic around your heart loosens, just a little, and you hiccup and breath in and out. 

“Right,” He soothes, “you’re doing so well, I know it hurts,” 

You nod, your eyes still pressed tightly closed. 

“Okay,” He says, “I’m going to bring everything in, just breathe,” 

Your eyes flash open, “Don’t leave,” 

“Not leaving,” He promises from his position sitting on your coffee table, at least a foot of space between you, “just getting you a present,” 

That makes your inner omega calm in a moment. He’s not disappointed with you, he’s pleased, he has something special for you just like you need. Your body is a trembling mess the minute he steps out of your eye line, and rationally you know that this reaction to him is a problem considering you have a boyfriend, you don’t know this man, and you’re about as vulnerable as a person could be, but you don’t care. 

You watch as he hauls in an armful of bags in various shapes and sizes, and despite your needy spike, it makes you smile. 

He shuts your front door and locks it tight and then he takes back his seat on the coffee table.

  “I got everything you asked for,” He smiles warmly, “and some other things I thought might be helpful,” 

“T-thank you,” 

“I’ll help put everything away and get you settled,” He says, “how bad are you spiking now?” 

“Um,” You try to keep yourself centered enough to answer him. 

“It’s alright,” He murmurs, “there’s nothing to be scared of or embarrassed about,” 

You want to cry again, but instead you just nod, “It’s pretty bad,” 

He nods, “I can leave,” he offers softly, “but if you’re okay with it, I’d like to make you something to eat. Can I touch your forehead for a moment? I just want to see how warm you are,” 

“Okay,” You breathe. 

He gives you a small smile and leans forwards slowly, gently resting the back of his fingers along your sweaty forehead. His mouth downturns as he withdraws his hand, “Okay, change of plans,” 

“Why? What’s wrong?” Your throat feels dry, your skin prickling. 

“You’re burning up,” He tells you honestly, “a little warmer than I’m comfortable with. I won’t come in with you, or do anything you don’t want, but would you let me get a cool shower or bath started? I’ll cook you something while you come down.” 

“You won’t come in?” 

“Not unless you ask me to,” He nods, “I’m not here for that, sweetheart,” 

“Keep calling me sweetheart and I might think you like me,” You sigh, your limbs feeling softer and easier the longer his warm scent passes over you. 

It’s Yunho’s turn to blush now, his ears dark pink, and he clears his throat, “The shower,” he diverts, “it’s back that way?” 

“Yeah,” You nod, “to the right,” 

“Alright,” He says, getting to his feet, “stay put,” 

You nod, and as he disappears from view your eyes settle on the bags. Some of them are clearly grocery bags, but some are from other stores, and you crane your neck to try to catch labels. 

You hear the water click on in the other room and the sound of your neighbor shuffling around, your linen closet door opening and shutting. 

“y/n,” He calls from down the hall, “are these the only towels you have?” 

It’s such an odd question, and your brows draw together, “What?” 

He pads back out into the hallway and smiles, just enough to keep you feeling comfortable, “The ones in your bathroom aren’t very soft,” 

Your stomach flips but you press the natural response down, “They’re fine,” 

“Hmm,” He brushes past that comment and offers you a hand, “just to help you stand,”

Your eyes flick over him, gauging his honesty once again, but within a moment you’re pressing your hand into his and letting him gingerly pull you up to your feet. 

“Ow,” You tighten your first at the pulse of a cramp, doubling over at the sudden sensation, “fuck, this sucks,” 

“I’m sorry,” He offers, still careful to only touch you with his one hand, “I’m sure the shower will help,” 

“Maybe,” 

“Can you walk?” He asks softly after a moment. 

The sharp pain has dulled a little, and you nod, straightening up as best you can and starting to walk. Everything aches, and you’re running so hot and so cold it’s making you dizzy, but something about his steady hand is keeping you moving. 

When you make it to the bathroom, you notice he has one of the smaller shopping bags in his hand, a shock of bright pink that you’re surprised you hadn’t noticed before. 

“What’s that?” You nod towards the bag. 

His cheeks turn a little red again and he clears his throat, “Thought it might help,” he sets the bag on the counter and drops your hand, “I’ll just leave it for you.” 

You wonder what kind of sex toy he bought for you, a stranger in heat. 

You manage a nod. 

He shifts from foot to foot and then sighs, “Just yell if you need me,” he says, “you’ll be alright?” 

“Mhm,”

“Good,” He steps over the threshold and back into the hall, his eyes never leaving you, “well,” 

“Hey,” You catch him as he starts to turn, and he looks back, “thank you for doing this,” 

“Of course,” He answers without a thought, “now you relax and cool off, and I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready,” 

He pulls the door shut as you thank him softly again and then you’re alone. Your body still feels like a live wire, but something about having an alpha close is making you feel a thousand times more secure. You look up into the mirror and nearly groan at the sight of yourself, sweaty and matted locks of hair frame your face and your cheeks are flushed, mottled, embarrassed splotches. Your clothes look mussed, and you’re realizing now that you haven’t had a bra on this whole time. Your nipples stand hard at attention through the thin fabric of your shirt and you groan in embarrassment. 

You hadn’t caught him looking, but there’s no way he didn’t notice. 

Your sleep shorts are sticky and stuck to your inner thighs too, a clear dark patch of slick visible from the outside. 

You sigh, dropping your head into your hands, and then you catch the little flash of pink again. 

It takes you a single second to tear into the bag and you clap a hand over your mouth when you see what’s inside. A sizable silicone cock in swirls of pastel pink and blue, complete with a generously sized knot at the base. A pulse runs through you at the sight of it. You can’t believe you put a vibrator on the list and not a knotting dildo considering you’re about to face this heat alone, but somehow he had known. 

In a flash you click the lock on the door, strip out of your sleep wear, and stumble into the shower, cock in hand. 

You hiss sharply at the temperature of the water, a little too cold for how you’re feeling, but a few adjustments leaves it just right to re-regulate your fever and you drop back against the tile wall to recenter. If you weren’t holding this brand new toy, you might have forgotten the alpha outside the door. Inside the little cocoon of your bathroom you aren’t able to hear him, but the toy is a reminder that there’s something different about this heat. 

Yunho. 

You like his name. You like a lot of things about him. His shaggy, dark black hair. His arms, his shoulders, the plush pout of his mouth and the way his brows draw together in concern for you every time you so much as whimper. His scent is something different too, you haven’t been able to figure it out yet, but every now and then you catch a whiff of something earthy and electric. 

Slick pools between your thighs, a pulse in your core and you find your clit with your fingers immediately, rocking circles into your sensitive bud. You can’t fight the moan that bubbles out of your throat, not now and certainly not when you start to push the thick toy inside you. 

You hitch your leg up and open onto the edge of the bathtub and brace yourself against the wall as best you can. It doesn’t take long, you’re an omega in heat who’s been begging for a knot for hours, so the second you feel even the faux sensation of one, you come apart at the seams. 

Pushing the toy in as far as you can, letting your body lock around the knot, you feel suddenly clearer than you have in hours. It’s bizarre the way heat spikes ebb and flow, and you’re suddenly painfully aware of how needy and out of your mind you were behaving on the couch just ten minutes ago. Now you’re really going to have to move, you’ll never be able to look this man in the eyes again once this heat is over. Knowing that he heard you through the wall is one thing, this is most certainly another. 

You finish your shower as quickly as possible, edging the toy out of your channel as soon as you feel sated and calm enough to do so. You wash it clean and leave it on the edge of the bath before making short work of washing your skin and hair soft and scent free. 

When you finally shut the water off and wrap a towel around yourself, you listen at the edge of the door to hear him. You expect him to be gone, or maybe to be at the door, but from the clinking sounds you can tell he’s exactly where he said he would be. Quietly you slip out of the bathroom and across the hall to your bedroom, searching in your closet for the one piece of perfect luxury that you know you have. Your robe is buttery soft, dark black and long, and you quickly dry off with the scratchy towel before slipping into the robe and a pair of house slippers. With your hair secured back in a clip, you take a deep breath and start for the kitchen. 

You can hear something boiling or bubbling on the stove before you even get to the kitchen, and then Yunho curses and you find yourself grinning. 

“So, you are still here,” You observe as you round the corner. 

He starts a little at your sudden presence, setting one of your large wooden spoons aside and turning towards you, “Still here,” he confirms, “feeling better?” 

You watch blush creep up his neck and into his cheeks again, so you’re sure that he heard you, but you clear your through softly and nod, “Yes, thanks,” 

“Absolutely,” He seems to relax a little now that you’re not a whining mess and he smiles, “you should sit down, this will take a little bit longer,” 

You stretch up to look across the kitchen and into the pot, “Curry?” 

“I hope you like that,” He grabs up the spoon again to stir, “it’s easy and it’s comforting,” 

“It’s perfect,” You assure him, “I’m honestly surprised, when you said you were cooking I wasn’t sure, I could have been getting ramen,” 

“No protein,” He notes, “and you need your strength right now,” 

Warmth blooms in your chest, “You’re good at this,” 

He shrugs, “It’s natural,” he says, “I’m just doing what feels right.” 

You smile, biting back a bitter comment about your boyfriend and his absolute lack of caretaking skills. 

“Well,” He steps back to let the sauce thicken, “go sit and relax, I’ll get you some water.” 

You open your mouth to protest but he gives you a little shake of his head. It’s easy to listen to him, part of that is probably your needy, clingy omega, but part of it is clearly that he’s anticipating your needs before you know them yourself. 

You settle back on the couch and find your phone, still void of any contact from your boyfriend, and then your eyes fall back onto the bags. Several of them are gone now, likely the groceries that he’s now whipping into a meal, but the others are still there, taunting you. You’re itching to open them. 

Yunho crosses the room and passes you a cool glass of water before taking a seat in the far chair, ensuring as much space between you as possible without leaving the room. His eyes flick over you and he shifts in his seat. You must smell appealing to him, at least a bit for him to be so careful with proximity, but you’re frankly grateful for it given how unpredictable your spikes have been so far. 

“Do you need anything else?” He checks. 

You shake your head and take a long sip of water, “I’m alright for now,” 

He nods, his knee bouncing slightly with unsettled energy. 

“Are you okay?” You ask. 

He huffs a laugh, nodding, “Yeah, I’m sorry, I’m just trying not to overwhelm you,” 

“Overwhelm me?” 

“Mm,” He murmurs, “I’m not really supposed to be here when I know you have a partner, but my instincts are pushing me to take care of you, and I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable,”

“I wouldn’t mind a little caretaking,” You blurt out. 

His leg stills and he swallows tightly, “I’m not sure that would be appropriate,” 

“Right,” You feel the tense pang of rejection in your chest and you look down. 

You hear him shift, leaning forward in his chair, “Omega,” he says your designation so softly it makes your mind warm and soft, “it’s not for any other reason than him, alright? I would if you were unbonded,” 

Your head snaps up, “I’m not bonded to him,” 

His eyes narrow the smallest amount, “You’re not?” 

“Can’t you tell?” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t see a mark, but your scents are all mixed together here, I just assumed.” 

“Ah,” You shake your head again, “well, no, I’m not bonded.” 

“Why?” One of his eyebrows quirks high. 

A flicker of anger ignites in your gut and you can’t stop the bitter truth this time, “You’d have to ask him.” 

Yunho’s jaw sets hard, and for a moment he looks like he’s fighting off saying something he’ll regret before he settles on a sigh, “I’m starting to think I don’t like this guy,” 

“Yeah,” You laugh sharply, “get in line.” 

“In that case,” He smirks a little, teasing this time, “I won’t feel so bad about buying a beautiful girl a dildo,” 

“Oh my god,” You bury your face in your hands, “I thought we had a silent agreement to never speak of that,” 

“I definitely did not agree to that,” He laughs, “especially now that I know what an idiot your boyfriend is,” 

Your stomach flutters and you smile, looking at him through your fingers. 

“Sorry,” He offers a moment later, “I shouldn’t say that, I don’t know him.” 

“It’s fine, honestly,” You lean back into the cushions and shrug, “it’s been bad for a while, pretty much since we moved in together,”

His expression softens, “I’m sorry,” 

“It’s not your fault,” You say, “but for an alpha, he doesn’t really seem to like omegas very much. Or maybe just me, I don’t know. When he gets home, it’s over.” 

“Leaving your omega in heat is pretty unforgivable,” He agrees. 

“Yeah,” You glance down at your phone, still void of any new messages, “honestly, I’m wondering if he’s with someone else.” 

“Cheating?” He clarifies. 

“Mm,” You nod, “and you’d think I would be jealous, especially now, but I just…” You gesture towards the space in front of you, at a loss for how to phrase it. 

“Don’t feel anything?” He supplies. 

“Exactly,” 

“I’m so sorry,” He says again. 

“Still not your fault,” You correct, taking a long drink of your water. 

“I never like to see anyone going through a tough time,” He says, “and what you’re going through right now is definitely tough.” 

Warmth pricks at your eyes for a moment, the truth of how you’ve been feeling for months being so easily acknowledged by this stranger sinks like a stone in your gut. Your friends, your family, everyone who encouraged you to just give Hyunsik another chance, but this man can see the truth of it with just a look. 

“Thanks,” You manage. 

He’s still across the room, but he holds your gaze and nods, nothing but tenderness radiating from him. At the sound of a timer in the kitchen he breaks his focus and clears his throat, “That’s the rice,” 

“Right,” You watch him jog into your kitchen like he’s done it a hundred times before. 

Heat flushes your cheeks again, and there’s a little bubbling knot of tension in your belly, but it’s still background noise enough that you can shake it off. You swipe away any trace of tears that might have bubbled up, and push yourself up off the couch, “So, you cook, you clean,” you noticed how he had cleared away the mess in your apartment, “you buy gifts for omegas in need… what else do you do, Yunho?” 

He smiles at the stove as he stirs the curry, “Let’s see,” he places the spoon back in the rest and leans against the kitchen counter, “I’m a dancer, a choreographer, that’s what I do for work. I like gaming, I play soccer with a couple of school friends a few times a week,” he trails off and then smiles, “I have a dog, I love dogs,” 

“You do?” Your brow furrows, “I haven’t seen a dog around,” 

“She was with my parents while I was doing military service,” He nods, “but I’d love to bring her here soon now that I’m settled again.” 

“That’s nice,” You smile. 

“Mm,” He turns back to stir the curry, “this is just about done,” 

“It smells delicious,” 

“I can’t take credit, it’s my friend’s recipe,” He shrugs, “if you want to see a man who can cook, well, then I should probably never introduce you to Wooyoung because you’ll definitely like him too much,” 

You laugh sharply at the transparency of his comment, and the clear intention that he does in fact have some kind of interest in you, but he’s doing a fantastic job of giving you space while your relationship disintegrates in your hands. 

“But what about you?” He asks, recentering the conversation, “Tell me something and I’ll fix you a serving.” 

You ease yourself onto one of the kitchen barstools and think, “Well, I’m an omega in a terrible relationship, but you already know that one.” 

He nods, a smile still on his lips.

“I’m a teacher,” You start simply, “first and second grade,” 

“Ah,” He nods, “that explains the fridge, I thought you had kids hiding somewhere with all this artwork,” 

You glance over, taking in the absolute gallery of crayon drawings stuck to your fridge and on the adjacent corkboard, “No,” you laugh, “no kids, just a huge class of very talented seven year olds.” 

“I bet you’re great with them,” He offers while he navigates your cupboards and puts together a plate. 

“Well,” You shrug, “I am an omega,” 

He glances sidelong at you and shakes his head as he ladles out some food, “I didn’t mean that, though I guess that might help. I just meant you seem kind, patient. That’s good for kids,” 

“Oh,” Your stomach flutters, “well, thank you.” 

He slides the dishes in front of you and then steps back, “Feeling alright?” 

“Good so far,” You promise him, “Yunho, this looks so good, you really did too much.” 

“It’s no trouble,” 

Eagerly you spoon up a bite of the curry and rice and sigh when the warm, familiar flavor passes over your tongue, “It’s perfect,” 

“Good,” He smiles, “I’m so glad you like it.” 

You eat in companionable silence for a few minutes while he clears away some of the cooking dishes, but eventually he moves back to the conversation from before, “So, what else about you? You teach, but that’s not everything,” 

“Oh,” You swallow a bite and shrug, “there’s really not that much to tell. I read a lot, I love the beach. I love dogs too, but Hyunsik is allergic, so,” 

“Really no points in his court right now,” Yunho smiles. 

You laugh and shake your head, “You’re not wrong,” 

“I hate to…” He starts and then stops himself, like he’s thinking he might not say what he’s about to say, but he sighs, “why are you dating him?” 

A great question. 

“We met in college,” You explain, “and we didn’t date for a long time but eventually we were the only two in our friend group not coupled up and I guess… I don’t know, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

He nods, “I get that,” 

“What about you,” You turn the conversation again, “you don’t have an omega?” 

He shakes his head, “No, I really hadn’t connected with anyone before I left for service, and then I was away,” 

“And now?” You prompt him. 

He’s quiet for a moment, but then he shakes it off with a smile, “And now I’m too busy taking care of my lovely neighbor,” 

“Ha, ha,” You roll your eyes at him. 

You shift in the seat as he passes by, reaching for your empty plate and your body clenches just enough to leave you stiff and aching. You exhale low and slow through your nose and gingerly change positions. 

“How’s the pain?” He notices adeptly. 

“Slight,” You brush him off, “I’m alright for a little bit.” 

He looks you over as if he’s trying to gauge your honesty, but then he nods, “Well, there’s at least two more servings of curry in the fridge for you and plenty of rice still warming. I got everything you wanted from your grocery list, so if you have any kind of craving, it’s here.” 

“Thank you,” He’s going to leave soon, and that makes your stomach flip hard. 

“Do you want to see what else I got for you?” He asks. 

You had almost forgotten, but you nod and push yourself up from the chair, ignoring the throb inside you to move back to the couch. 

“Here,” He ferries the bags over to you and then takes a few wide steps back, still giving you as much room as possible. 

The bags are full, nearly overflowing with items. When he said he got a few more things he wasn’t kidding and your mouth drops open as you pull things from the bags one after another. Blankets in the softest, most luxe material. A soft foam body pillow that bends into whatever position you need. Cooling pads for the spikes and a heating pad for the chills. A weighted plush puppy with a tag boasting its ability to lower nesting anxiety, and multiple sets of the most buttery soft pajamas you’ve ever touched in your life. 

There’s not a receipt to be found or a price on a single item. 

“This is far too much,” You tell him, even though a moment ago you were practically grinning at everything. Your fingers knot into one of the blankets. He is not your alpha. He’s not. 

“It’s really not,” He repeats. 

“Yunho,” You sigh, your cheeks warm, “this is more than a couple of provisions…. this is…. I mean, this is something an alpha would do to dote on their own omega,” 

“Well, we already established I don’t have an omega,” He says simply. 

“But I have an alpha,” You imagine Hyunsik coming home early and seeing this scene, a stranger with his omega in heat, courting gifts spread from couch corner to couch corner. 

“I thought you were breaking up with him?” Yunho points out. 

“Well,” You groan, “yes, but you didn’t know that before you bought all this.” 

“I’m confused,” he admits, “you don’t like them?” 

“No!” You drag the blanket up over your knees, tugging it close as if to defend it, “No, I like everything very much, I just don’t know if you should… if we should be…” 

His eyes flick over you, studying your flushed cheeks and your blown pupils and he relaxes his posture, opening his hands to you in a gesture of calm, good faith, “y/n,” he murmurs, “please accept the gifts, they don’t mean a thing. I just wanted you to have a bit of comfort during a difficult time, and I don’t often have people around I can take care of,” 

You feel like you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears, but you nod along with his words. 

“But,” He smiles, “I think it’s time for me to step out and leave you be. Let me help you to your nest, if you want I can even bring some of this to the doorway for you, but I promise I won’t come in.” 

A cramp ripples through your belly and you swallow tightly, “I don’t,” You shake your head to get things clear, “I don’t have a nest,” 

His brows draw tight together in confusion, “You what?” 

“I don’t have a nest,” You repeat, “I’m usually good without one,” 

He blinks slowly, processing your words for a moment, his jaw jumping when he tightens his teeth together. His eyes glance past you and across the rest of your apartment before he centers his focus back on your face, “Who told you you don’t need a nest?”

A cold pang hits your chest, “Nobody,” 

His head falls slightly to the side, “Did he say you don’t need one?” 

You don’t reply, you can’t. Shame twists in your gut. 

“He doesn’t know the first thing about omegas,” Yunho says, his voice a little firmer than before, “and that’s his job.” 

Another cramp pulses in your belly. He needs to leave. 

“A nest is natural,” He says, leaning forwards with his elbows on his knees, “it doesn’t have to be fancy, but it should be someplace warm and soft and safe for you, ideally it would be separate from your actual bed, and,” 

“I know what a nest is.” You cut him off, words sharper than you intend. You need him out, “Look, I appreciate everything you’ve done, and you can get me the receipts for all this stuff and I’ll figure out paying you back later. I think I need to be alone now.” 

His face falls, “I didn’t mean to offend you, I just wanted to,” 

“You wanted to come swoop in and save the poor neglected omega next door,” Tears bubble hot in your eyes, “I get it, it’s only natural.” 

“Sweetheart,” The endearment slips out as he shakes his head. 

“Yunho,” Your hands are trembling where they grip the blankets, “you are not my alpha. I need you to get out,” 

He shrinks back, visibly paleing as your words finally connect with him, and he nods, “I’m so sorry, I overstepped.” 

“Please, just go,” Slick is pooling in your underwear already and if he doesn’t leave you’re going to jump him for a knot, you know it. 

“Alright,” He grabs his phone and his bag and steps out of your sight towards the front door, “if you need anything at all, I’m still here. My number is on the fridge, or you can just bang on the wall, I promise I’ll come if you call.” 

Tears start to track down your cheeks. 

“I have a nest too, it’s never been used. If you need it, it’s yours,” 

“Get out, Yunho!” Your nails dig into your palms. 

An unbonded alpha that offers a random omega a nest? It’s too good to be true, too perfect that he would fall into your lap today of all days. You’ve made so many mistakes in your life when it comes to your designation, your boyfriend the biggest one. Your mind feels dizzy and hot and you can’t conceive of what to do except that you need to be alone or you’re going to throw yourself at him. 

The sound of your door opening hits you like a brick and you hold your breath waiting for the sound of it shutting closed. 

“Lock it after me, alright?” Yunho says quietly, “It’s not safe,” 

The door clicks firmly shut. 

You wait, but you don’t hear anything else. Sniffing back tears you stumble towards the door, hands shaking when you finally reach the deadbolt and flip it into place. You stiffen when you hear the sound of him on the other side of the door, his weight shifting from one foot to the other, and then his door is open, shut, locked, and he’s gone. 

─────────────────── . ݁₊ ⊹ . . ݁˖.────────────────── 

In hindsight, it’s definitely the most depressing orgasm you’ve ever had. Wrapped up in blankets that he bought you, sobs wracking your chest, but still an insatiable need to be knotted. When you finally settle down and out of your spike a bit, you feel like the reality of the day is staring you directly in the face. 

Your soon to be ex-boyfriend still hasn’t messaged you, you’ll be in full blown heat by tomorrow morning, and the one person who showed you a bit of genuine kindness you essentially told to fuck off. You’re about to start crying again at the sight of a full tub of strawberry matcha ice cream in your freezer instead of the small pint you always buy yourself every time Hyunsik forgets, when you realize something that sends a chill up your spine. 

On the corkboard to the side of the fridge is a note with his flight information. He’s supposed to be home from Japan tomorrow, while you’re still deep in the throes of your heat. You don’t want him anymore, for so many more reasons than just this, but if he comes home to you in the middle, would you ask for his help? Would you be so dizzy and desperate for an alpha knot that you’d beg for his? Would he touch you even if you didn’t want him to? You know in the back of your mind that he would. 

Your heart starts pounding at the thought, too many unknowns swimming around you and nothing to tether onto. 

Yunho’s name pulses in your mind like a drum, somehow the image of him is steady and sure even in the midst of your anxiety. He never pushed once from the moment he knocked on your door. The way he stepped far back every time he brought you something, every moment of care for you even though you’re a stranger. If had wanted to take advantage of you, he had ample opportunity to. You need someplace safe. You need someone safe. 

You tear through your apartment fast before you can overthink this. He said he would be there if you need him, and you just hope for once in your life you’ve found someone reliable. 

In a flash you’re standing in the hallway in front of his door, and you knock fast and firm. Only silence greets you, and you take a steadying breath before you knock again, a little firmer this time. 

“Come on,” You plead quietly to the door, “please, please, be there,” 

You’re about to knock again when you hear movement, steps getting closer, and then the door swings open. 

“What are you doing out here?” He looks you over fast and glances up the hall. 

“Did you mean what you said?” You press him. 

He blinks, looking back down to you and working through your words, “What’s going on?” 

“Did you mean it,” You repeat, “the part about the nest?” 

“O-of course,” He stumbles over his words, clearly still confused but he nods. 

The sound of a door down the hall opening startles you both, and he takes you by the arms to pull you inside his apartment before shutting the door tight. You make a sharp noise of surprise as he moves you, landing against the wall just inside his door, his arms on either side of you as he cranes his neck to look through the peephole. 

“Yunho,” You manage. 

“Sorry,” He releases you immediately, holding up his hands in an apology, “but you really can’t be wandering around right now, someone could have scented you.” 

“You’re right next door,” You gesture towards your apartment, just one little wall away. 

“You’re going to give me a heart attack,” He sighs.

“I’m alright,” You assure him, and for good measure you check out the peephole yourself, only to see the elderly beta woman from 4D who uses a walker and moves about one mile per hour. You smile at that, “No big bad alpha found me, it’s just Mrs. Kim,” 

“Please, don’t joke about that,” He crosses his arms, “it’s really not funny.” 

You have such an innate urge to soothe him, to touch him and calm the tension that just tied his muscles up tight, but you hold yourself back and cross your own arms in an unconscious mirror. 

After a moment he relaxes just a little, “What do you need?” 

“Can I stay here?” You ask softly. 

He nods immediately, “You can, but what’s changed? Last time we talked you wanted me far away from you.” 

You shift in his entryway, shaking your head, “What you said about the nest hurt,” you tell him, “not so much what you said, but… everything with Hyunsik.” 

He listens intently, nodding for you to continue. 

“Honestly, I genuinely don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” You admit, “but it’s a bit of a painful reminder that my boyfriend is kind of an asshole,” 

He smiles, wide and genuine, “Oh,”

“Don’t be so happy about that,” 

“I’m not happy your boyfriend is a dick, I’m happy you’re here,” He says, “I really thought I hurt you,” 

“No,” You drop your head back against his wall, “no, you’ve been everything.” 

He warms at your words, unconsciously leaning a little closer to you.  

You wait a beat, and then you clear your throat, “So, can I come in then?” 

Yunho blushes, stepping back from crowding you protectively in the entryway to let you into his space. “Please, come in,” He opens his arm to the apartment, “sorry about that,” 

It’s strange how much more comfortable you feel in his presence, an instant balm to your heightened emotions. You wave off his apology and make it a few steps inside before the heady scent of him washes over you. In his home, it’s hard to miss. His scent is rich, woodsy and masculine. Warm and rich, like cedar and wet earth after a downpour, and something sharper running through it. Under it all you taste a bit of sweetness on your tongue, a tangy bite of white peach that leaves you stumbling into his large kitchen island. 

“Whoa,” He steadies you with his hands on your elbows, “you okay?” 

“Mhm,” You lie, “a little dizzy for a second,” 

His scent feels good around you, and you’d make a joke about it sending you into heat if you weren’t already right there. A rush of slick pulses from your core and you tighten your legs together to try and not embarrass yourself immediately in his kitchen.  

When his fingers tighten on your skin, the warmth of his body drawing a little closer to your back, you know he knows. His breath catches and you feel his head drop against yours as he collects himself, exhaling long and low before stepping far, far, away, “God, I’m sorry,” 

“I-it’s fine,” You lean heavily on the counter, “I clearly understand,” 

He laughs a little. 

“Not embarrassing at all,” You have the sudden urge to wrap yourself up in bed and never look him in the eye again. 

He runs a hand through his messy hair and clears his throat hard. Out of the corner of your eye you can see him adjusting his pants to conceal the clear start of an erection, “You’re sure you want to stay here? You’re comfortable with that?” 

“I think so,” You nod, looking down at your hands to give him a moment to collect himself. “I’d be more comfortable here than at home, Hyunsik gets back tomorrow and I… I really don’t think I want to be near him right now.” 

Yunho swallows tightly, “Definitely not.” 

“I don’t mean to make trouble for you,” You look back up at him.

He smirks, “Sweetheart, I’ve seen your boyfriend, I think I can take him.” 

Tension rolls off your shoulders at his casual confidence and you nod, “Thank you,” 

“Let’s get you set up in the nest,” He says, “and then I’ll run back to your place and get everything you need from there.”

“You’re sure I can use it?” A space like this is so private for omegas, and you can hardly imagine his future partner wanting it if it’s clearly been used by someone else before. 

“Absolutely,” He says, “come on, I’ll show you,” 

The last bit of hesitation starts to melt away, and you nod, “Lead the way,” 

You follow him through the back of his apartment to a long hallway. You ache to reach out and take his hand, but this time you both keep a comfortable distance until you turn the corner, an open door waiting at the end of the hall.  

“Go ahead,” He gestures for you to continue forward without him, “take a look,” 

You step forward, glancing back at him, “You’ve really never had an omega in here before?” 

He shakes his head, “You’re the first,” 

With nervous knots, you cross the threshold. It’s a small room, just how a nest should be, cozy and dim with warm ambient lights that create a lovely glow. The entryway floor is wood with two steps up onto a raised platform. Here, the surface is a thick, mattress-like cushion that reaches from wall to wall of the room. Everything is a lovely soft purple and blue, with what feels like dozens of pillows at your disposal. There’s a humidifier running that spins a cloud of unscented vapor into the air, and a nook in the corner for any supplies you might need. 

Your mind is going out of control, it’s like he plucked the room from your mind’s eye. 

“Is it alright?” He calls to you from the hall, “I had a friend help put it together, but I’ve never made a nest before.” 

“Yunho,” You turn, finding his eyes, “why do you have this if you don’t have an omega?” 

He shrugs softly, a little red in the cheeks when he answers, “I wanted it ready when I found her,” 

Your insides melt, but you have to remember, this isn’t for you.

He looks down, away from your eyes and nods, “I’ll get your things,” 

He’s gone before you can protest at all.

With a moment of quiet, you take stock of your body. Your insides are starting to ache again, not badly but just enough that you want to take a seat, so you ease yourself down onto the plush cushion to wait. There’s no way you’re far from another heat spike, and you know from experience that periods of lucidity are going to start decreasing with every one. By tomorrow you’ll be in almost constant need of a knot. 

You wait quietly, letting the coolness of the room soothe you until he returns. 

You hear him before you see him, the sound of things bumping against each other with every step, and when he turns the corner you see his arms are full, bags lining each forearm and a laundry basket in his hands piled high. 

“What’s all this?” Your eyes widen 

“Some more stuff from your place,” He says, lifting the laundry basket as proof, “I got you some clothes, toiletries, and I took a wild guess on what other stuff you might normally want for your nest so…. you can pick through it.” 

You watch as he sets everything down about a foot from the doorway to the nest before taking two sizable steps backward down the hallway. 

You smile, “You can come in,” 

He shakes his head, “I really shouldn’t,” 

“It’s not really my nest,” You shrug a little and make your way towards the bags and basket. 

“It is now,” He replies, “and I wouldn’t presume an invite. I’ll let you get settled, get you some water while you get acclimated.” 

He disappears again, leaving you alone with bags upon bags of provisions. Your palms start to itch. You haven’t had a nest in ages, you can hardly remember what you used to like and what used to bring you comfort. Hyunsik had whittled you down over the years until a smaller nest became no nest at all. All the things you craved, the blankets and pillows and the warm safety of it all became luxuries you didn’t need, burdens on him he didn’t want to carry. 

Slowly, you reach back into the bags and find the blanket that you had clung to only an hour ago. 

Without the pressure of doing things someone else’s way, nesting comes back to you in a whirlwind. Once you move your first set of pillows it feels like your hindbrain takes the reins and before you know it you’re in the center of dozens of blankets and pillows. Your chest warms as you move things from spot to spot, creating a cocoon of safety for yourself in the middle of the soft platform floor. When it’s nearly done, you feel a sharp pang. The room feels right, it even looks right, but there’s something deeply essential missing that claws at your throat. 

“Yunho?” You call down the hall, anxiety lacing your voice as you stay fixated on changing the position of the pillows on the left from flat to stacked and then down to flat again. 

“Here,” he says, appearing once again a few feet from the door, “what’s wrong?” 

“Something's missing,” You feel like you could cry. 

He steps a little closer, still mindful of the threshold, and leans against the hallway wall. He nods, crossing his arms, regarding you almost a little warily as he tries to figure you out, “Not enough pillows? I can get more,” 

You shake your head immediately, “No, no, everything's perfect, it’s more than perfect, I don’t know what it is, there’s just something missing,” 

He sighs, rubbing a broad hand across his mouth and jaw, “I didn’t think you’d want his scent here,” he explains, “I didn’t grab any of his things.” 

“I don’t,” You agree, your stomach dropping at the thought of Hyunsik here, in this space, “I don’t want him.” 

“That’s alright,” Yunho soothes you, his voice dropping to a smooth warm place naturally, “but I think that’s what your omega is missing. Just try to get comfortable and,” 

“You’re an alpha,” You cut him off, pushing up off the floor and stepping towards him, the need for his scent overtaking your ability to filter your thoughts.

For once, he falls completely silent. His throat bobs with a tight swallow, his eyes flicking over you and over the nest you’ve made. The warm smile that was on his face a moment ago is missing now, and your nails dig into your palms unconsciously at the thought that you’ve displeased him. 

“That’s,” He starts but trails back off, “omega, you’re testing my ability to be a gentleman here.” 

You feel hot blush flush up your chest, “I’m sorry,”

He shakes his head, “I’m the one that’s sorry, I’m doing my best to keep my distance; you’re in heat, you’re stressed, and you have a boyfriend,” he says, “even if he’s a total bastard,” 

You smile at that. 

“But you have to understand,” He explains, tense control radiating from him, “inviting me in your nest, asking for my scent, it’s too much,”

“I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable,” 

“That’s not the word I’d use,” He sighs, “I’m just trying to hold out until your heat is over and your boyfriend is out of the picture,”

Fluttering nerves light up in your belly, “Hold out for what?” 

“I’d like to ask you out,” He says it plainly, “but I’d prefer it if we were just neighbors when I do that, completely clear-headed, unattached neighbors.” 

Your body feels like it’s alight, singing at the idea that he wants you, that it wasn’t all guesswork and assumptions. You can’t stop the smile that breaks over your face, “You want to ask me out?” 

“When you’re ready for more than a rebound,” He answers, “I’m there.” 

It makes sense now why you’ve been drawn to him, why he’s been such an instant source of safety for your heat instead of what a stranger should feel like. He could be yours — you could so easily belong to each other if you just let it happen, and part of it is surely your heat-brain, but part of it is an absolute need to start living the life you have for you. 

“Why can’t that be now?” 

He exhales slowly, collecting himself and taking a step further back from the door, “This morning I had a silly crush on my neighbor that I was trying to ignore because I thought she was already bonded,” he says, “and now we’re here? We need to slow things down, sweetheart.” 

“There you go again with the sweethearts,” You catch him, “we’re both giving each other mixed signals.” 

“You’re right,” He drags a hand through his mop of dark hair, “I’m not helping,” 

“I’d say you’re helping, I feel much more steady when you’re with me.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” He sighs again. 

“Okay,” You wave your hands, stopping things where they are so you can regroup, moving back to the center of your new nest, “let’s think about this logically for a minute.”

He waits for you to continue, just a slight nod of his head. 

“You were interested in me before my heat?” You ask him. 

He nods again, no hesitation. 

“And I‘ve had a crush on you since I moved in,” You confess. 

His eyes widen. 

“I thought it would go away,” You explain, “I wasn’t about to break it off with my boyfriend just because I thought you were cute, but… I’ve definitely thought about you, I… I don’t know, I’m just saying it’s not a one sided attraction here.” 

“Right,” His arms unfold from their tightly crossed position. 

“So we like each other,” You put two and two together for him, “that’s a good sign,” 

“Yes, but,” He starts but you cut him off. 

“I guess there’s the problem of Hyunsik,” You chew the inside of your lip, trying to think about how to assure this man that your boyfriend is truly an afterthought, that you haven’t wanted him in a long time and this is just the final straw. When the idea clicks, you look up, “Do you see my phone anywhere?” 

His brow furrows and he leans forward to look around, “Um,” 

You start checking under pillows, blankets, searching the floor. 

“There,” He says, pointing across the room at one of the shelves. 

You dart over, snapping it up and opening up your texts with Hyunsik, still painfully void of any messages back even though you can see that he’s read them. That stings, you won’t lie, but it does make your decision far easier when you start to tap out a message. 

We’re finished. If you come home at all, it won’t be to me. Please don’t contact me, I don’t have anything to say to you and don’t want to hear any excuses. I’m done. I hope you learn to treat your next relationship with the respect it deserves. 

It’s surprisingly easy to press send. The relief is instantaneous, like a weight has fallen off your shoulders and you reread your words just to make sure they’re real, that they’ve sent. 

After a moment you nod and walk towards the door. Yunho waits there with his arms crossed again, tension back in his body, “y/n?” 

“Here,” You hand over the phone to him unlocked with your messages still up on the screen, “read it. Scroll up and read more if you want, but believe me when I say I’ve been done with him for a long, long time.” 

You watch his eyes skim over the message at least twice, and you can practically feel the indecision in him. 

“Yunho,” You push him, “I’m not asking you to fuck me, I’m asking for your shirt.” 

His jaw tenses and releases, but on his exhale he reaches one arm back over his shoulder to grip the back of his t-shirt and pull it free over his head. He reaches it out to you, but you can’t stop staring. Now that’s taken off the oversized t-shirt, leaving only a fitted ribbed white tank top underneath, you can see how muscular he really is. 

Your mouth is dry, your heart starting to pick up the pace. 

He smiles, “You wanted my shirt, sweetheart?” 

“Fuck,” You shake your head to stop staring and collect yourself, reaching out for the garment, “sorry,” 

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” He tosses the shirt to you. 

The fabric is still warm, and the minute his scent is properly in your nest, you feel your body melt. 

“Better?” He murmurs. 

“Much,”

“How are you feeling?” He checks, coming back towards the door a little. 

“Single,” You tease him. 

“You’re trouble,” He laughs. 

“Maybe,” You relax back into the cushions around you, his shirt still clutched in your hand, “have I scared you off yet?” 

He shakes his head without hesitation, “Not at all,” 

“Good,” You realize in the back of your mind that if this works out, if he really does want to ask you out on a date after your heat, if that’s not just lip service, someday this could just be your nest. 

Your stomach cramps tightly and you breathe through it as subtly as you can. You can feel yourself starting to sweat again, and you need to communicate what you want clearly to him before your mind gets foggier.

“Thank you for letting me come here,” You tell him honestly, “really,” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” 

“Can I tell you something?” 

He nods. 

“I like you,” You confess, “and if you do ask me on a date someday, it’ll be a yes.” 

“When I ask you,” he interjects. 

“When,” You smile, “but until then, while I’m here… I just want you to know that you’re invited in my nest,” 

He shifts a little closer, still mindful of the threshold. 

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” You say, “but I’m going to be in this room for a couple of days, and there’s almost no way I don’t beg you for a knot at some point,” 

He listens, his body language nearly unreadable now. 

“I just want you to know that whatever happens, I’m okay with it. More than okay with it,” 

He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours, “I appreciate that,” he says, “but I’m not going to take advantage of you like that. I wouldn’t do that.” 

“I already know that,” You grip his shirt a little tighter, “I wouldn’t have opened my door this morning if I thought you were that type of man. I’m trying to tell you that it wouldn’t be taking advantage,”

“I disagree,” He starts, but you keep going. 

“It’s not wrong if I’m telling you I want it,” You need him to understand, “you feel more right to me than anyone I’ve met in a long time. That’s not my heat, that’s just how it is. If you’re not as interested in me, or if it doesn’t feel like that to you, then thank you so much for the safe place to stay… but if you want me, I’m telling you now while I’m still in my right mind, you have me.” 

He’s still for a long moment, holding your gaze like maybe there’s something more that you need to say. Finally he nods and turns away from the door, “You should get some sleep, sweetheart,” 

You watch him walk down the hall and round the corner and then you fall back into the cushions. He’s as stubborn as you used to be before Hyunsik, and even though you’re lying alone in a strange place for your heat, you just can’t stop smiling. 

─────────────────── . ݁₊ ⊹ . . ݁˖.────────────────── 

There’s only so long an alpha can listen to an omega in pain before they have to do something about it, but all things being equal, Yunho is really stretching the bounds of his control. 

His options are simple, leave or stay. 

Within those two options though lie endless branches, but even so, he knows that every decision he could make would lead him right back to the same place, sitting outside your nest’s door and trying to fight every instinct bubbling inside him. 

If he leaves, giving you his apartment for the duration of your heat while he stays in a hotel, there’s still the problem of Hyunshik. Yunho got as far as packing up a duffle bag while he tried not to listen to you moaning two doors down before he realized that if Hyunshik returned and heard you, scented you, figured out somehow that you were just next door, that meant he might be able to get to you. You came to Yunho for help, for a safe place to ride this out, and he won’t leave you defenseless in that even if it’s painful. 

If he stays, it’s a matter of his own will. Over the course of a few hours he’s made himself busy. He’s deep cleaned his kitchen, reorganized his bookshelf, and tried (unsuccessfully) to lose himself in a video game. Around hour five, he starts going back and forth between your apartment and his, telling himself that all the things he’s packing up and bringing back are items you might need or call out for, and he wants to be sure they’re accessible. It takes twelve trips and a living room full of boxes to realize he’s doing his own kind of nesting, moving you out of your apartment without even asking you. 

He can’t explain it right, but the thought of you leaving after this makes his throat thick and his chest tight. 

He keeps himself away from the hallway that leads to your nest for a long time, ignoring the sounds of your climaxes, your whimpers, and even your tears. He’s relegated himself to the guest bathroom twice to jerk off painfully into his own hand, and he’s bitten down on a towel each time just to keep his own sounds from echoing out and blending with yours. It’s an exercise in diligent control, but at least for now he tells himself that you only sort of smell compatible, that biology is just biology, and it has nothing to do with the months he’s spent thinking about you. 

And it has absolutely nothing to do with the way he started buying nesting supplies for his empty second bedroom only a week after you moved into the building. He told himself then that it was just coincidence, that this nest would be for his future omega once he got his shit together and got back onto the matching apps to find the one, ignoring how the color of the sheets reminds him of your eyes. 

It’s the middle of the night, many hours into the thick throes of your heat that he finally goes up the hallway, and only in a snap instinctual response to the sound of pure, genuine distress coming from inside. 

“Please,” He hears your hoarse voice as you whine, “please, please, I just want it to stop,” 

He braces himself with a hand on either side of the closed door, his heart hammering so loudly he can hear his own pulse thrumming in his ears. 

“I can’t, I can’t,” You’re crying, he can hear that too.

  He listens to the rustle of sheets, the slap of your palm against the wall, and he imagines you bracing yourself, tears raking down your cheeks. 

Yunho’s hard in an instant, the assault of your rich scent flooding his senses the second he settled outside the door, but his mind is razor sharp on the sound underneath it all; discomfort, grief, and pain. 

A sharp cry pulls from your lips and he hears you choke out words that stop his heart, “H-hurts so much,” you sob, “alpha, please, please, I can’t,” 

His fingers dig into the wood of the door frame, sweat dripping down his back. 

I just want you to know you’re invited to my nest. 

He all but throws himself back against the wall, trying to put a foot of space between himself and the door.

“Need your knot,” You whine, and he hears the sudden wet sound of you pumping a toy in and out of your slick heat. 

Whatever happens, I’m okay with it. 

He squeezes his eyes shut, willing himself to stop hearing your words. You were clear headed when you said it, but something still twists in his gut at the idea of taking you for the first time in the middle of your heat. There’s no time an omega is more vulnerable, more open and pliant, and to insert himself into that just to sate his own alpha, his own needs, is not something he’d ever do to anyone, least of all you. 

It wouldn’t be taking advantage. 

Yunho’s chest tightens, the scent of your syrupy slick hitting him full force, and he switches to deliberately breathing through his mouth to fight the urge to open the door, to ignore his primal brain that chants endlessly — mate, claim, breed. 

“Yunho,” You cry, a desperate edge to your voice, “please knot me, please knot me,” 

The sound of his name on your lips almost drops him to his knees. From your words alone, he can’t tell if you’re fantasizing about him or begging for him, but it doesn’t matter, intrinsically he knows. You need him. 

It’s not wrong if I’m telling you I want it. 

“No,” Yunho shakes his head, his throat thick with your scent as tries to push past the memory of your words, “no,” 

You whimper on your side of the door, and he feels every ounce of your disappointment and your desperation in the sound. 

He’s a second away from turning back from your nest and walking down the hallway when the sound of your body hitting the floor steals the breath from his lungs. At the pained sound that leaves your lips, he’s moving, twisting the handle and shoving his way into the nest before he can even second guess himself. 

The heady scent of you and your arousal slams into him as he stumbles into the nest, but the sight of you naked, twisted in blankets and sprawled on the wood floor focuses every instinct in his body. 

“Omega,” He drops to his knees, pushing your hair back where it falls over your face, “sweetheart, are you hurt?” 

You launch yourself into his arms, or try to, but with your legs still tangled you collide into his lap, face pressed against the smooth plane of his stomach. 

“Hey, hey, shh,” He gathers you up into his arms properly, “I’ve got you,” 

“Yunho,” You whine into his shoulder. 

His cock throbs, but he stays focused, freeing your legs from the tangled blankets and lifting you back up onto the mattress, holding you close as he slides into the sheets alongside you, “I’ve got you,” he murmurs again, “you’re safe,” 

You take a long, deep inhale of his scent and he shivers at the aching whine that leaves your lips. 

Yunho shifts you back, brushing the damp hair away from your face and trying to see your eyes, “Omega,” he says gently, trying to maintain a soothing tone, “hey, hey, omega, listen to me,” 

Your hands are too busy tugging at the tie on his sweatpants. 

“Omega,” He sharpens his tone, a command laced in each syllable, “look at me,” 

Your head snaps up. 

“Good girl,” He finds the words easily, resisting the urge to pin you down when he sees the way you soften in compliance. Trusting instinct, he lets his next words come naturally before he’s even really thought it through, “I’m here, I’m going to help you,” 

Your eyes widen. 

“I need you to be good,” He cups your face, thumb running tenderly over your cheekbone, “so can you tell me, when you fell, did it hurt?” 

You shake your head fast. 

“Did you hit your head?” He softens, studying your expression. 

“No, alpha,” You breathe, and the feeling of relief that floods him is indescribable. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” Yunho lets his forehead drop to yours, taking a moment to breathe you in. 

He lets his eyes close, sinking into the feeling of your body in his hands, on his lap. Your skin is hot, fiery and slick with sweat, distress is laced in your scent this close, and he knows crossing the threshold into this room made his choice. He’s staying. He’s seeing you through this heat, he has to. 

“Alpha,” Your voice is soft, cracking a little as you shift in his hold, “Y-Yunho?” 

“What is it, little omega?” 

“Please stay,” Your hand grips his shirt, tugging just once as the weight of your hand drops, your body too exhausted and spread thin to do anything more, “please don’t leave me again,” 

If you want me... 

He hears your words from before clear as day in his mind as he shakes his head, “Omega,” he shakes his head against yours, “I’m not going anywhere,” 

He feels your shoulders drop with relief, your fingers going slack, and you let out a soft sob, hot tears tracking down your cheeks, “Thank you,” 

“I’ve got you,” Yunho shifts and presses a kiss to your forehead, gathering you closer in his arms, needing more of your body against his, “I promise, I’ve got you.”

“Thank you,” You whisper again, shuddering, “thank you,” 

Yunho cups your head, drawing you in closer to his throat, “Just breathe,” he rocks you unconsciously, just a little sway of his body back and forth, “I’m here, I’m right here,” 

Your arms loop around his shoulders, and with a soft sound he feels you bury your face in his neck, the sound of your inhale, your whimper of need, the way your body melts in his hands. Nothing in the world could make him turn around and walk back out that door, not now.

You have me. 

It echo in his mind as he holds you close, his own alpha finally settling as he feels his skin on yours. 

You have me. 

You have me. 

You have me. 

He knows deep down, there’s no way he’s letting you go.