tricks for treats (team peach) - imogen and morgan ft. annie

“Are you sure Annie can be eating this shit?” Morgan said, his feet kicked up on the table—which Imogen very clearly did not appreciate. With just an irate, low-patience glance from his girlfriend, Morgan shifted his feet downwards towards the floor, looking somewhat guilty with the way his floppy ears pressed to the sides of his head. “Hey, this is about your pet. Not me.”

“Annie’s not just a pet!” Imogen huffed, looking exasperated with Morgan’s behavior before she turned her shiny eyes down to Annie, who looked adoringly up at her owner in turn. Her little creamy, whipped cream tail wagged up at Imogen in the face of the tasty treat she had in her slender hands: a delicious strawberry dango with strawberry glaze on top. “She’s family to us! Isn’t that right, baby?” Imogen baby-talked her imp, cooing like a mother would. “Since you won’t give me a real baby,” Imogen added on.

“...Uh-huh, sure she is,” Morgan deadpanned, looking somewhat bothered by Imogen’s tacked-on sentence. Moving on, he proceeded, “I thought that succubun over at the Imporium said imps can’t eat shit that buns do. Like, it… bloats them?”

“These imps are different! Annie is different. You can’t sincerely say you’ve seen an imp like Annie over at Hutch’s Imporium, can you, dear?” Imogen very well may have frowned if she wasn’t looking at Annie’s adorable face, crouching down to give the patiently waiting stroodle the strawberry dango she’d just been holding in her hands, and fully ignoring Morgan’s minimal concern in the process. 

Looking up, Imogen locked eyes with Morgan and said, “There’s a bun named Quince that runs a place called Pedigree Pets. Didn’t I tell you that when I brought Annie home?” Imogen’s eyes narrowed a little.

Annie, happily munching down on the strawberry dango, gave a cute bark when she heard her name. Imogen shifted back to looking positively enamored in a matter of seconds, petting Annie’s fluffy head as she ate the treat Imogen had brought specially for her.

“Didn’t remember. Sorry,” Morgan sighed, rubbing her temples with closed eyes before she opened them back up. The light stung at her vision, causing white to blossom behind her eyelids, so she closed them again with a slight groan. “I know better than to argue with you when your mind’s set on—whatever, so…”

“Are you worried about Annie, then? You’re so sweet, honey,” Imogen smiled, and Morgan couldn’t help but lament the constant exhaustion of entertaining Imogen’s mood swings. “Like I was telling you before, Quince’s imps are bred in such a way that they thrive on sweets. See Annie’s pattern? It’s fluffy, like a strawberry shortcake. Of course she’d love strawberry dango… isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

Annie barked again as she finished the final dango Imogen had given her, as if to answer Imogen’s words.

“So good!” Imogen praised, scooping Annie into her arms and, minding the stroodle’s tender, full tummy, went to sit next to Morgan on the couch.

Settling her butt into the cushion and minding her long white dress, Imogen smiled as both she and Annie settled in next to Morgan. “She’s so smart. Much smarter than any other imp I’ve ever met before,” Imogen praised Annie, letting her wiggle out of her arms freely as she spoke.

Annie crawled into Morgan’s lap and flopped over, full and content with her treats.

“Oh,” said Morgan.

At the same time, Imogen said, “Look. She loves her daddy so much,” Imogen nudged Morgan, smiling brightly at him. “And next time… daddy needs to give her treats!”

Morgan—could not find it in him to reject Annie, as she settled onto his lap, with Imogen pressing up against his side to cuddle in. 

Maybe he did like the stroodle. Just a little. He let out a sigh and flipped on the TV.