#sex pest alpha is dead now tho

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omega disciple shen yuan au pt 2 electric boogaloo

cw for the sex pest again but…mans will not be returning lmao (nor will that theme, probably)

shen yuan is nine years old when the brothel madam—nainai, she insists—starts having him run errands. picking up tea from the mings’ shop down the road, dropping off letters and packages for people around town. he’s gotten stronger, healthier. the farmers who sold him must not have fed him much. he’s gone from stick thin to youthfully soft; the dark smudges beneath his eyes have lightened. the village sits in a mountain, on a plateau that jiejie says was formed when a huge demon blew the peak off the mountain a thousand years ago. shen yuan doesn’t believe her, but he stays wary all the same. he knows what mountain range they're in, after all. he knows just as well as everyone else about the immortal masters up on the peaks. he isn't thinking about it. he's not a cultivator.

he is still young, his heats still dry and soft. they don’t make him work when it comes; all the brothel aunties bring him silks and blankets and help him nest, and nainai makes sure there’s always at least one auntie there to look after him. distantly, shen yuan knows that heats are supposed to be a hassle for grown omegas. he's staunchly not thinking about it—instead he sits cuddled up with jiejie or gege or one of the aunties and reads them stories. heats really aren't so bad.

nainai and all of the aunties always said if he starts to feel heat sick while he’s out running errands, he has to come back immediately. it's a little overbearing, honestly. he isn't stupid; he knows how to take care of himself. he hasn't frozen up since that time with that alpha, and he knows to run away if something happens again.

he's been a little warm the past few days, and his nose has been really sensitive—irritating, really! he curses the shitty author in his heart every time a guest with a rancid scent strolls into the brothel. but two little symptoms don't mean it's pre-heat. gege got him a journal to track his heats with, and it's not supposed to come for two more weeks. he's fine.

so he hides his fever and stifles his gags when nainai asks him to to go drop off a package at the tea shop and pick up more of some special tea. uncle ming, the tea shop owner, always gives him candy and snacks and stuff when he comes by. there’s no way a little fever is gonna make him miss out on free candy. whether he’s nine or twenty-nine (his age is another thing he isn’t thinking about. sometimes he almost forgets he was grown just two years ago. sometimes he forgets that none of this is really real. don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it), free sweets are free sweets.

the sun is setting, so nainai tells him to be quick. the tea can’t wait until the morning—the prickly man is coming again tonight, and it’s some special blend he needs as soon as he arrives or something. shen yuan doesn’t really care; he’s just excited to go see uncle ming. so excited he runs the whole way there. it’s still light when he goes inside. uncle ming gives him snacks and sweets, pats his head and praises him for being so helpful. he catches shen yuan up on the neighborhood gossip—there are rumors about this person, that person is pregnant again.

they keep talking until after the sun goes down, and when uncle ming realizes it, he tries to convince shen yuan to stay for the night. his wife and daughter, both betas, are away, and he doesn’t want to send shen yuan to walk back in the dark alone. he’s an omega too, and he says he’d walk shen yuan there himself but his nose isn’t good and it’s dark out. with no way to tell if someone was sneaking up on him, he’d be in danger. it’s fine though. shen yuan’s nose is good, and he’s not stupid. the thought of spending a night away from his nest makes him itchy. plus, he’s already late getting the tea back for that man, and nainai said it was important.

uncle ming scents him with one of his wife’s cloaks, then wraps it around his shoulders. hopefully, he says, the scent will scare off anybody looking for an omega to bother. auntie ming’s scent is nice—not like the aunties at the brothel, but it still makes shen yuan feel secure. the cloak is a little long, but that’s fine. the walk is only ten or so minutes. he’s sure it’ll be fine.

he’s wrong.

it’s been two years, and nothing really even happened, but shen yuan still remembers that alpha’s scent. there’s no reason to remember it. nothing really even happened, just a kiss on the forehead. a hand on his thigh. eyes dark and possessive, like he wanted— but nothing happened. that alpha’s probably on his way home from running some errand, same as shen yuan. he picks up the pace.

the scent follows him, and his middle starts cramping, and when shen yuan accepts that maybe he was closer to his heat than he thought, he starts running. gets maybe three steps before his legs get tangled in auntie ming’s cloak, and before he can hit the ground, there’s a hand pulling the fabric tight against his throat.

that alpha coos at him, calls him sweet. he’s scarred now, ragged claw marks tearing from his eye down to his neck, and shen yuan remembers nainai’s bloody hands after she took the man outside. nainai isn’t here now. shen yuan should’ve stayed with uncle ming.

later, he says he only remembers flashes of what happened that night. hands on his face, his thighs, inching between his— sharp teeth dragging along his neck. he remembers that alpha’s voice, but not what he said. he remembers crying, remembers saying he’d scream if the alpha didn’t stop. he doesn’t remember screaming. he remembers a tingling under his skin, a tightness in his belly, a rush and a wave of something he’s never felt before. he remembers opening his eyes and seeing the alpha lying dead on the ground, his chest caved in and blood dripping from his eyes and his nose and his mouth.

shen yuan remembers picking up the box of tea, half spilled on the ground, and turning to run. he remembers bumping into a man with the coldest eyes he’d ever seen, but a scent that felt familiar. remembers looking up at him from the ground, saying please, please, please—but not what he was asking for. he doesn’t remember anything else.