Apart of the: THEY COME IN A PAIR, DO NOT SEPARATE! series.
[ Description: A glimpse into yours and Brendonâs rare day off. ]
Pairing: Alpha Brendon "The Shark" Park x Alpha female reader
Notes: You guys get to see more of the dynamic between Brendon and reader, you can get away with reading this as a stand-alone!
Masterlist â > https://www.tumblr.com/eizousposts/814811204951425024/hello-and-welcome-masterlist
Previous part â > https://www.tumblr.com/eizousposts/814824770376974336/comfort-between-us
Next part â > to be determined!
This will ONLY be posted on this tumblr account, and my AO3: thewriters64 NOWHERE else!
My old tumblr account: thewriters64 is currently in the process of being or has been wrongfully deleted because someone was pretending to be me and scam people, so this is my new account, I apologize for any inconvenience and confusion!
Warnings: No use of y/n / reader is female / A/B/O dynamics / reader and Brendon are in their early-mid twenties in this part / reader is described to have shoulder length hair / nest sharing? / touching/cuddling / some sub-vocal communication / scenting/scent kink? / non sexual nudity / biting / sexual tension? / additional warnings may be added later!
Even in the deepest stages of sleep, your alpha nature demanded veneration. It was a creature of quiet selfishness, rejecting all pretense of sharing space. Your space.
Limbs flung wide, as you claimed the entirety of his nest, the t-shirt you stole to sleep in, one, two sizes too big. Was tangled up around your ribs, the basketball shorts you also adorned bunched around your thighs. Almost painful.
The steel-blue comforter that once covered both of you lay discarded on the floor beside the nest, the sheet that shouldâve gone with the comforter. Was hopelessly tangled, wrapped around one of your legs, trailing off the nest. As if you had fought a losing battle with them.
With your scent glands bare, exposed from any patches and neutralizers. Your scent was an insistent force, pouring from the vulnerable glands. Claiming every inch of the room as yours in a raw, musk-heavy demand.
Brendon, who was barely visible, burrowed beside you, fast asleep on his stomach as one arm, heavy and possessive pinned your hips. While the other remained hidden beneath the heap of pillows and odd pieces of clothes.
Anytime he shifted, muscles rippled beneath his skin. Your leg that was free of any battles with the sheet, was hooked carelessly over his, binding you together in a thoughtless intimacy.
Even subconscious, lost in a haze of dreams, and scent-driven, Brendon was drawn to your wrist. His nose buried deep against the sweating scent gland, breathing you in.
For anyone else, the sheer intensity of your scent wouldâve been suffocating, nauseating. For Brendon though, he had long accepted the dominance you had over his senses years ago. His alpha counterpart preened whenever your scent swallowed his own.
Your sleep anchored by the relentless thrum of a purr that vibrates from the depths of your chest. A loud, unapologetic sound reserved strictly for the deepest levels of exhaustion.
The noise wrapped around the room, refusing to go unnoticed. Demanding to be heard even by those outside your shared den.
In synchrony to you, a low vibrating warmth thrummed behind Brendonâs ribs. A silent, almost phantom purr ignited, a resonant response that lulled him towards you.
You have been beside each other for so long, so many years of inseparable life had woven a constant humming bond that consumed your counterparts. Not even sleep silenced their constant, ceaseless chatter, their instinctive need. To hear. To see. To feel⌠the other.
The arm that pinned your hips tightens impossibly more, and with a sudden possessive yank, he drags you closer. Burying his face in the crook of your neck, his nose nudging the uncovered gland, breathing you in where your scent was most potent.
His sudden invasion of your most sensitive gland, stole a breath from your lungs. Prompting a soft, involuntary moan to escape your lips, he answered instantly, a soft trill vibrating in his throat.
Your hand cups the back of his neck, squeezing gently to keep him where he was. Leaning into him, your cheek grazes against his untidy hair and you breathe in his natural scent.
It is intoxicating. He is intoxicating.
A sudden haze washes over your senses as you subconsciously bump your cheek against his head, creating a rhythm as you rub back and forth.
The air around you grew heavy, a thick intoxicating cloud composed of your combined scents, his fingers sink into your hip. At the same time your grip on the back of his neck tightens, anchoring each other.
"Good morning." You whisper against his hair, managing to part your eyelids, blinking against the light peeking through the curtains.
"Mhm." He breathed heavily against your throat. His cheek grazing the sensitive skin of your now swollen gland, with a certain deliberate possessiveness that only an alpha would have.
A shiver tore through you and your hand slides up into his hair. Fingers locking around the curls, yanking his head back, away from your throat. Rejecting any more of his scenting.
Brendon hissed, a low, wet sound that vibrated in his throat as his lips pulled back showcasing his elongated canines. You tilt your head against the pillow, a flash of mischief glistens through your eyes as your lips carve up.
Taunting him with a quick flash of your own elongated fangs, the grip on his hair tightens, and you feel the exact moment his claws deliberately extend. Digging into your hip, not enough to leave a wound, but a lingering, painful pressure that travels up your body.
For a heartbeat you simply breathed each other in, eyes locked in a silent, tense exchange. Then, it was like a dam brokeâfollowed by sharp exhales as you two collide.
It was a blur of limbsâarms hooking, legs tangling, and jaws snapping. You roll straight off the nest in a faux-fight, tumbling for leverage as you landed in a tangled of limbs and playful desperation for dominance.
Years, and the stress of residency melt away, as you revert to the carefree, clumsy antics of your puppyhoods.
Modesty was never really a thing between you and Brendon, not after you left your respective packs and started college together.
You guys didn't care. You are confident. You are comfortable. You are in the confines of your shared den... you both pay for it, and clean it, and scent it.
You have one bathroom and a strict routine that you guys stick to, after rolling around like pups for twenty minutes, it was time to begin said strict routine.
Which led you to where you were now... handing the dirty breakfast dishes to Brendon so he could wash them. You make breakfast. He cleans up breakfast. You make lunch together, you pack lunch, and you clean up lunch together. He makes dinner. You clean up dinner.
You didn't even make it all the way out of the small kitchen before you were pulling the stolen sleep shirt over your head, braless. You were not sleeping in a bra...
Your basketball shorts came next, leaving you in only a black cotton thong. Dropping the clothes on the bathroom floor you turn on the water to the shower. Waiting until it was the perfect temperature before peeling off your thong and dropping it on top of the pile of clothes.
"If you use all the warm water," Brendon groused as soon as he steps through the threshold of the bathroom. "I won't be responsible for my sour mood for the rest of the day."
"Uh-huh." You stick your head out from behind the curtain, eyes dancing between the two outfits he had chosen for you. "That one." Your head disappears back into the shower, and you could hear him walk out and further into the den.
As you peel back the shower curtain, the steam carried the sound of the still warm running water, Brendon was already leaning against the sink. His arm outstretched, holding up a plush body towel and a matching hair towel.
"You take such good care of me, Bren." You murmured, stepping out of the shower and enveloping yourself in the warm towels he held out.
Brendon didn't speak. Instead, a silent growl of satisfaction resonated in his chest. The predator in him preened from your statement, puffing out its chest as it basks in the sudden surge of possessive pride.
Once your towels were tied and secured, Brendon moves past you. Pushing his boxers down in one swift motion and stepping into the shower, ripping the shower curtain shut.
When the shower curtain is ripped open again, there was a fresh, neatly folded towel placed on the counter of the sink. While you stood before one of the bathroom mirrors, a towel still wrapped tight around your hair.
The simple lace bra and matching thong Brendon picked out for you now adorned your body, you were unwrapping a new box of clinical-strength scent patches. Being two alphas that live together, and having intense scents, you go through one of these boxes in a number of days.
âLast box. Added it to the shopping list.â You scowled down at the plastic wrapping. âStupââ
âGive it.â Brendon exhaled sharply, snatching the box out of your hands before you could protest, and tore the plastic off with ease.
âI couldâve done it.â You press your lips into a thin line, snatching the box out of his hand.
âUh-huh,â He mocks you from earlier. âYou say that every time.â His hand reaches for the folded towel you set out for him, tying it around his waist.
âYeah?â You roll your eyes. âI mean it every time.â
âUh-huh.â Brendon repeats, his voice echoing the same phrase a second time. Finally, you turned to face him, your eyes narrowing into tight slits.
âWhatever.â You click your tongue, pulling the tab of the box open grabbing a bunch of the scent patches.
Alphas have eight scent gland in total. One on either ankle on the inside, one on either upper thigh close to their pubic bone. One on either wrist where their pulse was, and of course their mating glands, right below their ears.
Brendon doesn't offer a response, instead, he turns towards the mirror with a deliberate slowness. An action that made your lip twitch, your canines itching to snap at him again.
He grabs his toothbrush, beginning his morning routine, focusing on your reflection with a certain look that told you he knew exactly what he was doing.
"You're such an asshole." You set the box down between you, allowing the scent patches to slip from your other hand. Opening the drawer of the bathroom unit, you pluck out your face wash.
Spitting into the sink, Brendon jabs his arm towards you, showing off the bruising bite mark you left not even two hours ago. "Says the one who bit me."
A quiet thrill hummed beneath your skin as you bring your fingertips up to trace the semi-deep, unmistakable indentations of teeth. Your teeth. In his arm, you felt your counterpart smile, a predatory, possessive smile.
You met his eyes for a solitary second, then, as if compelled your eyes flickered back to the bite mark âFair is fair.â You huff, turning your back to him to reveal an identical deep, discolored mark on your shoulder blade. Shaped precisely like a bite, a perfect match to the one he carried.
The sight of the discolored mark on your skin made Brendon breathe out ragged, a silent rumble as he couldnât help but step closer.
This happened every time you two reverted back to âpuppyhoodâ both of you end up with little bruises littering your bodies. Sometimes, your counterparts could get a little out of control and actually bite.
It was the same when you two were pups. You lost your deciduous canines in his shoulder, and his in your thigh, you just had to take extra precautions now that you two were fully mature.
His left hand settled on the nape of your neck, anchoring you. While his right hand hovers over the purple mark, his fingers tracing the outline, before stroking the indents in an agonizing, gentle motion.
He bows his head, nose grazing the tender skin causing a quiet hiss to leave your throat. Brendon tenses for just a moment before his lips press a soft, lingering kiss directly on it. Moving away just an inch, mouthing a silent sorry.
You turned, looking over your shoulder to catch his gaze with yours, his eyes searching yours for a beat too long, flickering to the bruise, then back up. You didn't say a word, just, slowly closed your eyes. Letting them stay shut for a heartbeat longer than necessary, when they opened, a silent reassurance filled them.
"Go get dressed," You whisper, twisting out of his hold, and towards the mirror. "We're going to be late."
"Yeah." He murmurs, grabbing the box of scent patches on his way out of the bathroom, his free hand already untying the towel around his waist.
He stepped back into the bathroom just as you finished your skincare, having pulled your hair away from your face. Pinning it into a soft, half-up style that left the rest cascading down your shoulders.
You catch his eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and he watches as your gaze travels leisurely from his face down to his day clothes.
You noted, without uttering a single word, how his clothes seemed to blend perfectly with your own. That still hung on their hanger on the door, when your eyes rose back to his, you gave a slow, deliberate nod of approval.
You begrudgingly started peeling back the wrappers of your scent patches, you despised this part of the day. The moment they sealed against your skin, and that familiar chemical numbness smothered your natural pheromones. It felt obscene, in a way that made your skin crawl, every raw, primal instinct roared in protest, rearing its ugly head back at the forced suppression.
Brendon, had moved further into the bathroom standing beside you once again, combing his fingers through the unruly mess of curls that sat upon his head.
You pluck the dark colored jeans off the hanger, stepping into them, buttoning them with a satisfying, sharp click. Tugging your cotton t-shirt over your head, the same shade as the one Brendon wore.
Ignoring his watchful gaze you slap on the small scent patches that cover your wrist, with a practiced, aggressive speed. Narrowing your gaze at the counter, lingering, opened and unused, sat the two largest patches. The ones that would be forced to cover your most sensitive glands.
âIâll do it.â Brendon grumbles, discarding his own unused scent patches on the counter.
âI donât need yoââ You begin to argue, but Brendon just hooked his finger through your belt loop. Using a firm tug to pull you into his space.
You went for his wrist, a sharp reprimand for potentially stretching your belt loop. Brendon, of course, expected such a reaction and effortlessly caught your hand.
Wrapping his fingers around yours, guiding you in a swift turn as he hauls you up onto the edge of the sink counter.
He forces his way between your thighs, positioning himself in a way that prevented you from jumping down. With a firm, uncompromising grip on your jawline, he tilts your face sideways exposing your mating gland.
Using his free hand to pick up one of the unused scent patches, and carefully masked the sensitive scent gland on your neck. Repeating the same gentle motions for your other gland on the other side of your neck.
You didnât wait for him to move away, as soon as his fingers dropped from your jaw you slammed your hands against his chest. Forcing him a few inches back, sliding off the counter, you grab him firmly, pivoting him with the same forceful momentum he used with you.
Pushing him down onto the edge of the tub, he subconsciously spreads his legs, making room for you as he tilts his head back. You loomed over him, eyes locked, a challenge simmering between you as the air crackles.
His hands grip the back of your thighs, his knuckles white against the denim of your jeans. Your hands fly to his face, fingers locked into his jaw, your grip tight and demanding.
For a split second, your eyes went entirely glossy blackâyour counterparts taking hold for a heartbeat, before your irises snapped back to their natural color.
A rough, uneven breath escapes Brendon the sound was harsh in the otherwise quiet room. His scent pouring out of his uncovered glands, you two didnât blink. Maintaining the steady, intense eye contact, refusing to look away.
Your response was felt more than heard, a deep, animalistic tremor vibrated in your chest. Your fingers still locked on his jaw twitch toward his scent glands, prompting his lips to twitch in a silent warning.
You ignore it, brushing your fingertips against the skin around the gland, and a low growl rumbled out of him. In response to his warning you snapped your teeth, flashing the sharp, lethal canines you keep hidden.
He squeezes the back of your thighs once more before dropping his hands, dropping his gaze to your throat.
You bowed your head pressing your nose firmly against his scent gland, taking a deep, possessive inhalation. Grounding yourself in his familiar aroma, you tore yourself away, the abrupt shift left a lingering warmth.
Brendon, barely managed to stifle the pathetic, almost inaudible whine that caught in his throat.
You returned just as quick as you left, grabbing his jaw with a newfound gentleness. Tilting his head to the side, you carefully applied his own scent patches over his mating glands.
âList, wallet, water bottleâŚâ The quiet checklist slipped from your lips while you fumble with your sneakers. âWhat am I forgetting?â You furrow your brows.
âHere.â Brendon huffs out from behind you, holding your leather jacket up so you could slide your arms through the sleeves.
You turn, letting him fix the collar as per usual while you go over the list in your head over and over again. His hands drop, grabbing his own jacket out of the coat closet, and you walk towards the small island in the kitchen.
Grabbing what you need, you spin on your heals holding Brendonâs wallet and car keys out towards him. Walking to the front door, you stepped out but held your ground on the porch of the rental, waiting for him to lock the doors many locks.
Once he was done, you moved together down the steps, and towards the SUV you guys have had since freshman year in college. It was both a graduation and congratulations gift from your respective packs.
Like always, Brendon cuts in front of you, holding the passenger door open. Waiting until you were comfortably sat, before circling around, by the time he reached his side. You had leaned over pulling the lever to open his door for him.
You and Brendon hated food shopping, or any shopping for that matter... it didn't seem what time you guys went, bright and early in the morning or late at night. The store was always busy. Always full of other people. Always had those annoying LED lights that flicker and buzzed.
Not to mention the endless amount of neutralizers that were pumped out of the vents, they weren't even the good kind either... no, they used the ones that always had a burnt chemical smell that overwhelmed your senses and gave you a headache.
You guys could care less about the attention and looks you got from the other shoppers, and cashiers. Even with the scent patches plastered on your guys' scent glands, it was obvious what you were. The confidence, the commanding presence, every step you two take is deliberate and territorial.
The only time it truly bothered you is when someone would open their mouth, not because you were alphas well, sorta. Seeing two alphas like you and Brendon together, two dominant alphas. Everyone was on edge, just waiting for the moment you guys would snap and start a brawl in the middle of an aisle.
Granted, you and Brendon were far from innocent when it came to starting brawls with other alphas, especially in your teenage years when you first presented and were still learning how to control your counterparts.
Now, though... you wouldn't. You had too much at risk for something trivial like that, but it's common sense. You showed up together. You're talking to one another in a calm, calm to you. Tone, standing side by side, not a single hint of aggression towards one another.
The assumptions were annoying.
"I'm telling you this one is better." You hold up the box of protein bars, waving it in Brendon's face.
"And I'm telling you, you're wrong." Brendon leans against the shopping cart, his own box of protein bars in his hands.
"I'm not wrong," You argue, staring at him from the other end of the shopping cart. "Those taste like chalk."
"All protein bars taste like chalk." He rolls his eyes up towards the ceiling.
"Not these ones." You shake the box in your hands.
"Especially those ones." His gaze bores directly into yours, the sharp look in his eyes seemingly having no effect on you.
"You picked out last week's. It's my turn to choose." You rebut, a flash of frustration creasing your brow.
"Seriously?" Brendon couldn't help the smirk that threatened to lift the edges of his mouth, but he tampered it down regardless.
"Very serious." You nod, refusing to budge.
"Fine." He pushes himself off the cart, putting his preferred protein bars back on the shelf. "I'm picking out what fruit we get."
"We'll see." You tease, dropping the box into the cart, walking around it to walk beside him as he pushes the cart.
"Last bag." Brendon grunts as soon as he closes the front door, walking into the kitchen where you were unpacking some of the other bag.
"Mhmm." You hum, rolling your neck.
Brendon stepped up directly behind you after setting the paper bag down, his hands moving with practiced ease as his fingers close around the back of your jacket collar.
He gave it a light, deliberate tug, causing your arms to go momentarily limp, as he peels the jacket from your shoulders. Tossing it onto the counter, wasting no time in shedding his own. You turn instinctively, gaze locking with his, and a silent understanding passed between you.
Brendon, ever the impatient man. Didnât hesitate to bring his hand up to cradle your neck, hooking his fingers under the scent patches that he put on you just a few hours ago. Peeling them off in one smooth motion, forcing his eyes shut as he tries to hide the poorly contained shudder that runs through him as the sudden, unfiltered wave of your scent hits him instantly.
A soft trill of approval escapes you, reaching up and towards his neck you mirror his actions, peeling his scent patches off. You breathe him in, fisting the collar of his cotton t-shirt.
Both of you surrendered. Pulling each other in tightly, not leaving an inch of space between you. Inhaling the scent of one another with a pathetic desperation, as if it had been weeks since you last smelled each other instead of a few hours.
For long, agonizing minutes, you simply stayed there, perfectly content to exist in this molded, shared space. Bodies pressed together. Ribcage against ribcage. Breath against breath.
Note: I loved this, I really like playing into their more âanimalisticâ sides. Let me know what you think!
