Male hellhound & male werewolf x short female reader (nsfw)
This is a lovely commission!! I loved this one. I forgot to ask them if they’re ok with being tagged (duh, Ghosti!), so for now they’ll remain anon! They asked for a short, busty female reader, who’s sexually submissive, but otherwise enjoys being quite in charge. I hope you like this 6440 word commission! Eliron the hellhound and Dan the werewolf were so much fun to write!
“And that’s a wrap!” the director called over the megaphone.
A volley of whoops and shouts went up all across the set, and your co-star offered you a fist-bump. You met the furry, prosthetic, clawed hand of your co-star, laughing to yourself at the absurdity of the ‘werewolf’ makeup they’d done on him.
“You wanna grab a drink later?” he asked, voice weirdly muffled by the latex mask, but you shook your head.
“No, thanks,” you smiled up at him. “I… I’m kind of beat, you know?”
He nodded. “No problem. I get it,” he grinned. “I can’t wait to get out of this costume. I’m melting!”
“Well, werewolves do run hot, or so they say,” you snickered.
If only he knew the half of it.
You’d had to bite your tongue on more than one occasion during the filming of this show, fighting hard not to ‘correct’ the supernatural lore about which, only ten months ago or so, you’d been as ignorant as they were. Still, you’d got through it, mostly by telling yourself that you could tell your boys about it when you called them that evening.
You took yourself off set to remove your own makeup in the peace and stillness of your trailer. You stepped around chairs and crates littering the studio lot, all marked ‘Witching Hour’ with the name of the TV show, and you still had to shake yourself a little. It was the end of shooting for the first season, and it felt like a lifetime ago since you’d auditioned for the part.
As you wove your way back to your modest trailer, fake blood drying sticky on your temple, you could hardly believe it. You thought back to the young woman you had been, struggling to get even an audition because of your nerves, jumping at shadows, and without anyone in your life to support you and encourage you.
You smiled, the makeup feeling heavy on your cheeks beneath the gesture. The wind picked up, gusting between the trailers and whipping at your hair, and you shivered. There was something on that breeze that made your skin tingle.
You were no longer alone.
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