matentines fragrance - morgan and imogen

The roses weren’t dead, but Morgan and Imogen’s “romance” might as well have been. The current calm of the situation was irregular for them.

“Here, babe,” Morgan offered Imogen with a half-smile, though the pet name lacked passion; she really only meant it nowadays when she had Imogen like puddy in her hold, the other woman’s soft skin and pert breasts filling her large hands—she only felt affection for Imogen when she was able to flip her over and fuck her however she wanted. It was only then that Imogen would shut up, all her complaints about loyalty and settling down together with a family fucked out of her until all she could do was scream. “For you, sweetie.” 

Imogen gasped, her cheeks filling with a rosy pink color of delight as she took the roses into her hands, “You shouldn’t have!"

Feeling a twitch in her eyelid, Morgan narrowed her eyes as Imogen buried her nose into the center of the roses. They were in a bundle of bright red —the color of passion, or whatever. Even Morgan wasn’t braindead enough from the copious amounts of booze and drugs and whatever else to forget that roses could patch up any unrest between couples, if only for a while.

Imogen whined all the time, pushed every boundary and button possible, and was an overall annoyance Morgan only kept around because she was the sexiest girl in Burrowgatory; something that Imogen couldn’t seem to wrap her head around. Even though Imogen was temporarily preoccupied with the roses Morgan had gotten her Morgan knew it wouldn’t last even an hour. Soon, she’d be making herself look like the victim. 

“Did you sleep with that girl down by the church?” “When are you going to get your act together and settle down? I want a beautiful wedding with you by my side.” “Don’t you want that too?” “All I want is to be with you!” “Don’t you want me, and just me?”

Imogen continued to take deep inhales of the sweet, light scent of the deep red roses, an enchanted, calm smile spread wide on her dainty features. When she lifted her gaze to Morgan, it was clear that she was lovestruck by Morgan’s “sweet” gesture. “Where did you get them, darling? Oh, they’re so beautiful, Morgan. This is the best Matentines I could have ever imagined.”

Morgan nearly snorted at Imogen’s comment, but she kept her tongue firm in her cheek so as to not tip Imogen off to the truth—that she had gotten them at some random, half broken down stand on the side of the road at the last minute on her way back from another girl’s place. The girl, making circles on Morgan’s bare chest with the tip of her finger and their bare legs entwined with one another’s, had said, “Shouldn’t you get your little girlfriend something? You have one, right? I think you said so. Lots of buns set up shop around here. Little road-side stands, and things like that, y’know? Hmmm. You should pick her up some roses, or else I’d feel bad for the poor thing,” and with that, kissed Morgan’s lips.

Man, she was a bombshell, Morgan thought, feeling herself smile a little wider at the thought of her curvaceous, full body that she’d been on top of only an hour ago.

“Picked them out at a flower shop just for you, baby. Only the best for my girl,” It was incredibly easy and guiltless for Morgan to lie. She reached forward, and with her large arms that easily dwarfed Imogen’s slender, feminine waist, pulled her smaller girlfriend into her. “You think I’m enough of a deadbeat to leave you without a gift on Matentines?”

Imogen visibly and audibly swooned as Morgan pulled her in, but she made certain still to keep hold on her bouquet of flowers, holding them to her chest so as to not lose them. Even though Morgan had in fact gotten them at a roadside stand, they were wrapped up with sheer white plastic and encased with lace decoration, a pretty enough sight to make her lie convincing.

“Don’t say that, silly,” Imogen said. “You’re not a deadbeat. How could you be, after getting me such a beautiful gift?” 

As Imogen looked up at Morgan, her glossy lips parted, her eyes that shone underneath the delicate curls of her eyelashes glistening as she gazed, enraptured, at Morgan. 

…But Imogen’s too fuckin’ hot, seriously, man. Glad I got these roses, Morgan thought smugly in the back of her mind, and then, she pressed a heated kiss to Imogen’s lips.

Imogen pushed back into the kiss, her lips warming Morgan’s own. Feeling the heat of Imogen against her, every negative emotion Morgan felt about her melted away as easily as it had for Imogen when Morgan gave her the flowers. The bouquet between them crinkled lightly against their chests. When Imogen was alerted to the threat of the precious gesture of love Morgan had gotten her, she giggled and pulled away from her.

“Hold on,” she said gently, caressing the bottom of the bouquet as if it were the most valuable thing in all of Burrowgatory—even though they would soon die and wilt, just like their relationship inevitably would. “Let me set these aside, they’re so precious.”

“Huh. Uh-huh,” Morgan said, suddenly finding that she hadn’t been listening to Imogen.

“And then…” Turning away from Morgan, Imogen’s lovely white dress fluttered behind her, frills dancing in the open air before they settled back against her slender shins. Peering behind her to look at Morgan, she showed an angelic smile that didn’t suit a woman as completely annoying and stupid as she was. “I’ll give you a Matentines gift of my own. Why don’t you wait in the bedroom for me? Hehe…”

The suggestive curve of her lips gave Morgan all she needed to know about the “gift” Imogen had in store. 

Grinning crookedly to herself, Morgan clicked her tongue, saying, “Alright, babe. I’ll be there,” and silently thanked the girl she’d been on top of just an hour ago for the gift in the back of her mind, too.