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“~Well well well, what have we got here?” Rosie’s voice chimed through the golden mid-afternoon light streaming into her bedroom.
Alastor was currently sinking in the plush sea of coverlets atop her bed, hogtied by his soul chain and stewing. In fact if she squinted, Rosie could almost see smoke rising from the top of his head. She uttered a musical sort of chuckle as she approached the bound deer, standing with her hands on her hips. “A present for me? All wrapped up with nowhere to go? Oh Alastor, ya shouldn’t’ve!”
Alastor’s smile was more a snarl at this point as he squirmed atop the rose pink comforter, static overlapping any noises of struggle. His eyes narrowed as they locked onto Rosie and his ears pressed flat against his skull. His wrists and ankles were pulled tightly together leaving little room for maneuvering.
“I didn’t!” He seethed, dials briefly flickering. But he didn’t change. Not that he couldn’t, but think of the absolute mess it would make of the room. Indignant he may be, but he was a gentleman. His form heaved with angry breaths as Rosie came to a stop, fingers tapping at her chin as she gazed down at him in amusement.
“Now now mistah, you’ve got no one to blame but ya self for this,” Rosie cooed. “I’m a patient woman, Alastor, but even sometimes I draw the line.” She swished her skirts as she rounded the bed, sitting on the edge. Alastor followed her like a trapped animal, grimacing when the bed dipped under her weight. His skin prickled as her fingers curled through his hair, scritching his ears. He hunched his shoulders as if that would stop her, burying his reddening face in the goose down covers, this was humiliating.
“Aw, suddenly someone’s gone all shy now? What happened to that big number of readin’ me the riot act?”
What happened is that he had read her the riot act and she retaliated. Because no sooner had he finished making his point about playing fair than Rosie snapped her wrist and he’d been caught and whisked away upstairs. Which left them in the here and now. Alastor’s bad tempered mutterings were swallowed up by the blankets.
Rosie sidled up next to him, hovering at his back and grinning like the cat who got the gin, continuing to stroke the soft ears and enjoying the minute trembling of her pet’s shoulders. Oh he hated this, and that was only half the fun. She gently pulled Alastor’s shoulder back just enough that she could see his face and had to bite back a laugh at the utterly miserable look he wore.
“Oh Al, what’s that for? Don’t tell me you forgot who’s holding the leash here,” she ‘twanged’ the rose-gold wisps tying him in place. “I’ve been more than reasonable lettin’ you keep your independence; really all I’m askin’ for is your due, let’s not forget I own you, pumpkin.”
The dial eyes glowed and the rictus grin strained. Alastor gave a useless struggle against his binds in place of an answer, but he eventually did answer, self-imposed silences never worked on him. “And all I’m asking for is some fairness, Rosie. I’m at the mercy of this stupid wound and there’s the ever-present issue of my broken staff. Your pet is declawed and practically useless, so is my need for extra support really that problematic?”
Rosie sighed, long-suffering but fond as she swung her form over the prone Radio Demon, caging him against the plush coverlets. Alastor bared his teeth as his owner propped her elbows on his chest, inches from the still-healing gash. It smarted horribly but he wouldn't let it show. Rosie’s smile was thin as she cradled his jaw. Efficient and effective her pet may be, but she could do without the attitude. He wasn’t totally to blame for that, Rosie knew her expectations were hardly a walk in the park; a lifetime of meticulous planning only for her to be dropped back to square one after seven years. Oh, he was still talking. Rosie tuned in to his grievances; they weren’t going to change her mind, but she was a gentlewoman.
“—when you consider the possibilities, of course. Having me at your beck and call whole and able will ensure your schemes come to fruition, yes?”
He was still on about that? Rosie tossed her head with a spark of annoyance. He didn’t get it, did he? When did that handsome head get replaced with a brick? She pressed a finger against his lips hoping to cease the monologue and get at least something in edgewise, but Alastor jerked his head to the side, tone quickening. He probably thought he was losing her.
He was right. Rosie’s brows furrowed slightly as she lifted a hand, manifesting a large, monogrammed handkerchief in a puff of rose-gold smoke. Alastor’s train of thought was derailed in a muffled yelp the moment the cloth was wedged between his teeth. Rosie slapped a hand over the gag before the overlord had a chance to spit it out, forcing a frustrated blast of static.
“My turn, pet.” She said sweetly as Alastor’s eyes burned. She lightly bopped his nose with her free hand. “Now I’ll admit you make some very good points and I may be willin’ to lend you a hand so to say,” she nearly cooed when his ears flicked forward in interest. “Darling, what you did was reckless, even for you. But I can’t just have my favorite person hobbled even if it was his fault. So I’ll give you a boost. Nothin’ much, just enough that you can focus on healin’ and put ya self to rights. No more a’this backtalk, understood?” Oh, she spoiled her pet terribly. She couldn’t help it though; much as she owned his soul, Alastor practically ruled her heart.
And the look he was giving her now was like fireworks in her bloodstream. If he had a look that could kill before, the look he had now could almost certainly melt. She smiled as she tugged the cloth free having said her piece but gave him no time to respond as she seized his mouth in a kiss. The lithe body turned to putty under her ministrations, eyes half-lidded as he gave in. Anything he wanted to say was quickly rendered null and muted as Rosie dipped in for kiss after kiss, barely allowing him breath.
“Rosie, I—… you—… wait, I—… Ro—… will you just—…” Alastor’s brain had a hard enough time trying to string words together while it was battered from the onslaught of Rosie’s attack. He groaned helplessly against her lips as she cradled his jaw, humming in turn.
And then she released him but didn’t fully back off, opting to cross her arms atop his chest as she gave him a smug look. “Feel any different, honey?”
Alastor blinked, smile gone thin and crooked. He felt a great many things, what exactly was she… his chest no longer smarted. Before he could speak, Rosie lightly shook a finger. “Now it’s not a fix-all. Just a little touch of magic so you can get back on your feet. Don’t let it be said I never did anything for you, my pet.” She lightly pecked his lips and nestled against his chest.
Alastor exhaled and for the first time in about a month there was no shooting pain accompanying it. He felt lighter and more relaxed than he had in quite some time, even Rosie’s weight on top didn’t feel pressuring, just warm and constant. Safe. He rested his chin on her head and her pleased hum drove butterflies through his stomach. “Rosie, I… feel better than I have in literal decades. I, I apologize for pushing before. I wasn’t thinking clearly due to the pain, I shouldn’t have approached you with so much… ire.”
“Ire?” Rosie echoed playfully. “That’s sayin’ somethin’.” She lifted her head to smirk down at him. “Aw Al, I love it when you’re all sweet and soft. Such a perfect pet.”
He nearly took the thanks back as his smile twisted into a flustered grimace. “Don’t ruin the moment, Rosie. I was paying you a compliment.”
“And I was playin’ you one back, silly.” She chuckled. “You’re the best pet a woman could ever ask for.”
“Rosie,” he didn’t mean to whine as he gave an indignant wiggle. “Please, you don’t have to—” the rest of his sentence was swallowed up by the handkerchief as Rosie gleefully stuffed it back in.
“Oh Al! So funny! But that’s enough out of you, mistah. I did ya a solid after all. Remember, my deer, you’re in my zoo. I tell ya when to sit, stay, roll over, play dead. Don’t you forget.” With a flick of her wrist, another cloth manifested, this one longer, thinner, that she slammed over his packed mouth and crossed behind his head, roughly knotting it back in front with a little bow.
Alastor’s cheeks flushed as feedback stuttered, his words embarrassingly garbled as Rosie fussed over his predicament. “Like I was sayin’ before, all wrapped up like a present.” She playfully tugged the bow over his mouth. “I think I almost like you better this way, Al.”
The resulting sputtered groan caused her to snicker. “I said almost, my pet. So moody! You know, If you weren’t such a brat I wouldn’t hafta muzzle ya.”
At the mumbled protest - she was fairly certain it was a protest - she relented. “Oh fine, you were thankin’ me that time, but I remember all sorts a’ mean things you were sayin’ earlier when you first came in. And sure, sure, you apologized already.” She patted his chest, amused by the huff that followed her words. Her pet really couldn’t help having the last laugh. “Oh but enough of that sour look, mistah,” she lightly scolded. “Ya said so ya self, ya feel better than ever, and it’s all thanks to me. Surely I deserve a… little somethin' in return?” She winked cheekily.
Alastor’s response consisted of a flat gaze and a raised eyebrow, causing cackles to bloom from his dealer. She lightly swatted his shoulder. “Oh Al, you have no idea how much I missed ya! There was a big deer-shaped hole in my life ever since you went away.” She sweetly cradled his cheek, smile warm and fond.
Alastor’s eyes softened a mite and briefly flicked away. He’d felt like a puppet during those seven years gone, no better than an errand boy. He resented Rosie for plucking him up and away, throwing him to the metaphorical wolves as they say. He hadn’t… really considered that she might miss him as much as he missed her. Which was shocking to say the least. The power imbalance for one thing.
That was... ridiculous, right?
Strands of hair were lightly brushed from his forehead and soon Rosie was kissing him again, tenderly and slow this time, marking a path from his temple over his cheek and down his jaw. His lashes fluttered as his breathing deepened, static buzzing all around. His fingers twitched where they were bound together at his back, wanting nothing more than to wrap around her shoulders and cling to her like a wet cat. Fingers deftly undid his collar and tugged it down. She lightly nipped the side of his neck, drawing a small whine from him.
“Easy, Al.” Rosie cooed. “Ya might give a girl the wrong idea. Do ya mean you like bein’ my present?”
Another huff, this one tinged both with exasperation and static. He very nearly shivered as she nibbled his throat, the chain holding him fast.
“So needy, little fawn,” Rosie chuckled, pressing feather light kisses up his jaw. “Somethin’ you want, Al? Anythin’ in particular?”
What he wanted was for his breath not to stupidly hitch each and every time her lips met his skin. To his horror, desperate sounds tumbled from beneath the gag.
And to that his dealer only snickered, though her face was full of warmth when she briefly pulled back. “Can’t understand you, sweetie. Ya might wanna enunciate.” She carded those dexterous fingers through his hair, rubbing the bases of his ears. His traitorous tail wagged and his foot nearly started kicking. A pitiful sound was pulled from his throat.
Enough enough more than enough!
But to his continued vexation, Rosie continued to string him along. Of course, literally being at her mercy this time certainly didn’t help, but he was still rather miffed how how easily she rendered him a quivering mess. Plush lips settled against his cheek, lightly peppering kisses there as her lashes tickled his face. The cloth gummed up his fangs as they gnashed. This was so humiliating!
His dealer cooed fondly at her pet’s flushed face, the radio dials ticking away. “I just might have to do this more often, Al.” She murmured. “You’re makin’ this so fun.”
Good grief, the flush spread nearly down to his navel. The ridiculous bow over his packed mouth quivered under his panting breaths. Alastor knew torture, had tortured, reveled in torture. But this…
He squirmed, unsure if he meant to toss her off, throw himself off the bed, eventually struggle his way out of a soul chain, anything to regain control over this situation. But Rosie cut him off with a taunting, “Now now, Alastor. Ya much too old to act out like this, deer.” She ran a finger down his forehead, bright with stitched X's, down the slope of his nose and prodded the sopping rag stuffed in his mouth. “Oh, someone’s got quite a lot to say."
He just barely bit back a sound that would surely have embarrassed him further. What kind of comment was that? Of course he had a lot to say, he always had a lot to say, he... had words but none of them were making much sense at the moment. How strange. Come undone with a few tender touches and kisses? The Radio Demon didn't do tender or touches or kisses anyway, he couldn't possibly have let himself fall under this... this spell. Because that's what this was, right? She obviously enchanted him, he knew she could. Maybe with that first round of kisses? The ones that... took his pain away?
"Lost in your head there, Alastor?" Rosie gently tweaked his nose. He distantly felt it, but didn't dwell.
No time like lying hogtied, hot and bothered than to review prior events and get to the bottom of this... mess, right? He was only acting this way because he wasn't in pain anymore. That had to be it. She took his pain and he turned to a little putty soldier in her hands, or rather under her lips. The rest of this was merely... well, he wasn't sure what else this was supposed to be? Posturing? Showboating? Rosie liked putting on shows, didn't she?
She missed him. He missed her.
"Oh sweetie, I can hear you thinkin' all the way out here."
He blinked. For the first time since he waltzed through her door, ticking dials flickered back to normal, leaving the Radio Demon's familiar cat-like eyes peering up at her. Rosie tilted her head. This was new. Curiosity got the better of her as she lightly undid the knot over his mouth, tugging the torn cloth from between his teeth. For a moment, Alastor looked... lost. Then he moved.
Slowly, like he might spook her, Alastor raised his head, twisting his shoulder out of the way before his lips met...
He was falling...
Not literally. He had fallen... It... tasted strange, like he should know the flavor, but all he tasted was Rosie's lipstick, and the last vestiges of her bergamot tea blend. And... by the abyss, he was kissing her!
He must make a sorry sight, eyes blown wide open, ears pinned flat, trembling with wild, alight nerves.
It took him many moments to realize she was kissing him back.
And then he let his head fall back, her lips continuing to seek his even as he sank back into the plush rosy coverlet, eyes drifting closed as something... stirred, a ringing in his ears, a needling in his gut... the static softly buzzing and flickering through frequencies. Unconsciously, an orchestra sounded from nowhere and everywhere, music softly crooning through the waves, voices from another era confessing that strange and terrifying emotion.