BtVS: Not So Happily Ever After (Sunday/Veruca) FRT-13/PG-13

[snogged]

Title: Not So Happily Ever After
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and Co. own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t.
Pairing: Sunday/Veruca; written from Sunday's POV.
Word Count: 1030
Rating/Warnings: FRT-13/PG-13; adult language, dark/angst, allusions to torture/violence (not explicit).
Setting: During Season 4's "The Freshman"
Summary: Sunday captures Veruca.
Beta: angelskuuipo.

Note: written for escritoireazul for Round 33 (Bad Girls) of the femslash_minis ficathon. She requested Sunday/Veruca, bruises, cages, and wicked plans. I hope this works for her.



“Once upon a time, there was a pretty little wolf bitch who loved to sing in a shitty, emo band. She was a good girl who loved to please her fans, loved to mesmerize them with her soft, supple curves and her fuck-me-I’m-a-virgin eyes. One day, she decided that she didn’t want to be good anymore. She wanted to be bad. She wanted to break the rules and hurt her fans’ feelings.

So one fateful Tuesday night, she walked off the stage and left her drummer and guitarist at the mercy of a smoky, frat-boy infested bar so she could find a new venue. One that would make all her rainbow-colored dreams come true. It didn’t take long before she heard the pretty birdies of the night singing their sad little songs and she so badly wanted to join them that she headed into the forest.”

Sunday crossed her fish-net encased legs, pursing her cherry-painted lips as she watched her captive’s arm muscles tense and bulge against the metal shackles that kept her held in place against the cool, cement wall. It was quite a lovely sight to see the frustration and anger building behind the werewolf’s pale blue eyes as she tried to figure out how to free herself, how to escape the book cage she’d been placed in.

Who would have guessed that the basement of the UC-Sunnydale library would actually be useful for something?

Or at least, it would be useful until it got super boring. Unfortunately, this was rapidly becoming an issue as she could only tolerate the sounds of rattling chains for so long. For being a whiny singer, her little wolf bitch really didn’t do a lot of talking and the occasional pouty growl wasn’t satisfying enough.

Kidnapping and torture weren’t as much fun if they didn’t scream and shout while the purple and black bruises blossomed on their sensitive, tender skin. Veruca, like everyone else Sunday had chosen to take home with her, had been marked by violence, beaten by fist and hand and foot since she’d arrived at headquarters a few short hours ago. The only problem was she had been the most incredibly boring person during the process.

If Sunday’s parents had gotten her a puppy as a child, she probably wouldn’t be so desperate to have one of her own. Not only that, but if it hadn’t been for the werewolf label, Sunday probably would have slaughtered this bitch the second they’d crossed paths. It wasn’t like primary headquarters couldn’t use a few new decorations. The dorms they had raided pretty much contained crap, and the Monet vs. Klimt battle was so completely blasé. But her lackeys were so fond of their damn marker board that she allowed the competition to continue.

“So- blah-de-blah, skippety-do-dah, insert boring dribble here- the little wolf bitch found herself caught in a deadly trap set by one exceedingly gorgeous vampire queen. Of course this meant the poor little dear didn’t get to play Snow White to her stupid little animal friends. Which, by the way, is a total gagfest. But more importantly to this story, do you wanna know why she got caught? Because she’s stupid and needs a proper owner to teach her proper discipline and obedience.”

Sunday smirked and rose to her feet. She placed her hands on the wire netting of the book cage, briefly admiring her dagger sharp, jet black-painted fingernails before locking her gaze on Veruca’s narrowed eyes and gritted teeth.

“Long story short, baby, I’m gonna be your happily ever after. And I promise that you’ll love all I have to offer you.”

To emphasize her point, long, thin ridges formed on Sunday’s forehead, her eyes changed to amber-gold, and a dangerous set of fangs emerged from her gums.

“Sorry, baby, but hell no,” Veruca spat, finally giving her captor a proper taste of her attitude. “The freedom you want to offer me has nothing on the freedom I could offer you.”

Sunday tilted her head, amusement and curiosity glittering in her eyes. Who did this were-bitch think she was? Vampires were the ones who had it made. Not the other way around. ‘Cause really, Dracula was the one getting the ladies and Wolf-man was the one coughing up hairballs.

“You know, I see it now. This freedom you’re talking about,” Sunday started, condescension in her tone. “Except wait…you’re the one who’s locked up and I’m the one making the rules. And my rules say that you’re mine from now until eternity. So deal with it.”

Veruca sighed, leaning her head against the wall in an act that Sunday construed as surrender. It was enough of a sign for the cocky vampire to unlock the cage and step inside its confines. It was enough of a sign for her to stalk towards her prey and drop down to her haunches. She couldn’t wait to taste the howl lurking within the warm red blood cells waiting thisclose to the surface of Veruca’s sweet, pink flesh.

Sunday licked her lips, leaning down to drag her cotton-candy pink tongue across the column of Veruca’s throat. The thump thump of the woman’s quickening pulse pricked at her ears and the maddeningly spicy scent of Veruca’s skin increased her hunger lust. It was driving her wild, driving her crazy. She had never wanted to sink her teeth into something so bad before.

And her wicked plan would have worked perfectly if she had remembered that it was a full moon. Even in a room with no windows, Veruca’s body still answered the call of nature and soft tufts of hair covered the wide expanse of her throat, saving her from Sunday’s kiss of death.

All it took was a snarl and a snap of Veruca’s paw sending her flying across the room for Sunday to stick her tail between her legs and scamper out the door. Surprisingly, she didn’t even care that much that she lost her pet because once Veruca figured her way out of the library, all kinds of shit would be destroyed in her wake.

And the idea of mass destruction was almost better than having her own puppy.

Almost.

Comments

[snogged.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

Although I was really at the mercy of my challenger. She came up with. I just made it work.