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It started so innocently.
His intentions had been pure, his only desire being to protect you. A construct made from his golden magic would have numerous practical uses, ways to keep you safe if need be. He was so careful in its construction as well. Long hours of molding the golden light perfectly, till it smiled the way you did, the way your nose scrunched up just so…
The way your hair shined under the glow of the Erdtree, somehow more radiant and luminous…It could never reach your perfection, could never carry your flaws with the same grace and humility, but it was as close as his magic would ever get. As anyone's magic would ever get.
It was as he compared your image to his own construct that Morgott paused.
Your height was just right against his own image, in a way that made his chest ache. A vision of loveliness such as yourself…next to a disgusting creature such as him. It was horrible. The roiling feeling of shame and self-loathing had him staggering in place, suddenly dizzy with the need to look away from the unresponsive mimics. With a wave of his hand, both forms dissipated in a shower of golden sparkles.
It was hours later, under the safe cover of night, that the Omen dared to bring your construct back. Locked away in his study with scrolls and paperwork and soft candlelight, you appeared once more. Your false image smiled at him but did not move. He tried not to notice the empty sheen in your eyes, the lack of life that magical constructs are made with. This was only a puppet after all.
A hollow shell of magic molded to look like you. It couldn't do anything he didn't order it to.
A thought, unbidden, crossed his mind and within seconds your construct was following the order. He didn't mean to tell you in such a way but when the construct stepped closer and placed your-not-hand upon his cheek, still smiling, he found he did not have the strength to pull away. It was such a gentle touch, one that had his eye fluttering closed in heartaching bliss. How he had dreamed of feeling your touch…Would your real touch be so soft, so warm?
Would the real you smile at him with such tenderness? Something a creature like him didn't deserve?
"Of course I wouldn't Morgott, you fool of a creature." Your voice, so sweet even as your words stabbed at his heart. The construct of you still smiled, even as it continued to speak…to break his spirit.
"You vile filth. Tainting my image in such a way. It's disgusting." Your thumb rubbed along his cheekbone, fingers tingling in the fur of his sideburns. He nodded, unable to disagree with the truth spoken to him. "You should dispel me, and never do this again. Don't soil my image anymore than you already have." He knew he should, he knew it in his bones. Despite the want clawing in his heart, the king sent your image away once again.
He couldn't sleep that night, guilt all but destroying him from the inside out. In the morning light, you - the real you - came to see him, and he had to excuse himself to vomit. You were so worried for him, your kindness wasted on such a disgusting creature such as he. You had insisted he rest, your hand on his hunched shoulder as you spoke. Even through the material of his tattered robes, he knew that your touch was vastly superior to the construct of you. He had hastily assured you that he would do as you asked and rest for the day, if only to not have to see the worried crease in your brow as you looked at him.
The realization hit him then, while staring into your eyes, that he will never be able to offer you what you deserve…but he could make a version of himself that could.
He spent the day in his room, 'resting' as you had requested. Conjuring a golden human, a blank canvas for him to mold. The whole day he worked on it - perfecting the nose, the jaw, the hair, everything just so. He thought of his potential, what he could have been, and felt his heart ache with want and anger at the unfairness of it all. At times it grew so painful he thought he might be sick again.
All day you would visit him, insisting that if he wasn’t so married to his work you wouldn’t need to make sure he was properly resting. The teasing stung more than it had any right to. It did, however, keep him motivated to at least try and give you the love you deserved.
And so, after a full day of persistent work, he brought his newest creation to ‘life’. It was everything he wished he could be…handsome, poised, regal…worthy of your attention. Morgott could see through the creation’s eyes, could speak using its voice. He did one last check to make sure it was perfect, conjuring your image next to his own.
‘You’ looped your arm around ‘his’, smiling and leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss his very human looking face. The real Morgott felt his insides churn and roil with familiar pain. This…this was the best he could do for you. It was worth the pain however, if it was for you…
With his new guise, he introduced ‘himself’ to you. You had been polite and kind as always, looking at the new him with a level of curiosity he found adorable. Very quickly you found the illusion to be a comforting presence, agreeing to have meals with ‘him’ and even take walks together.
Morgott couldn’t feel your warm touch or smell your sweet scent through the illusion, but he could watch you laugh and smile at the things he said. You even continued to visit the real him, locked away in his study as always, despite how well things were going between you and his construct. It just proved your caring nature, still coming to check on an unworthy fool like him, not casting him aside like you could have…
He could deny his feelings no longer.
Donning the facade of a charming noble once more, he asked you to join him on a late night walk.
“A lovely night, wouldst thou agree, my dear?” He spoke through the illusion. A warm spark went off in his chest while using the pet name. He was allowed to do that in this body…
You were staring off into the distance when his words snapped you back to the present.
“Huh? Oh, yes! Quite lovely…” The two of you had already made it to the garden, and he came to a slow stop with you.
“This is Morgott’s favorite spot…” You murmured, voice soft. He blinked in surprise, realizing belatedly that you were right. The two of you stood in the middle of an Erdleaf Flower field, the golden light of the Erdtree gleaming above you. He hadn’t even realized he had brought you here…
He cleared his throat. “Uh, well, yes. Tis a beautiful spot.” You nodded absently, looking to the great tree looming above. “My dear Tarnished, I brought thee here to ask something important, with hope in my heart that thou will say ‘yes’...” His words caught your attention, his hands grabbing both of yours in his own and holding them between you. His thumbs stroked over your skin, as if by some chance he could feel how soft and warm they truly were.
“I…I find thee wonderful company,” He began, feeling his heart climb up his throat. He felt like he was going to choke, he was so nervous. Your own eyes widened at his words. “I would very much like to keep company with thee, if thou finds it agreeable.”
He had the construct kneel down on one knee, bending to pluck a single flower from the grass below. As he offered it to you, a dawning look of realization came over your face.
“Would thee allow myself…the pleasure to court thee?” There. He had gotten the words out with minor issue. He waited with baited breath for your response. A perfect version of him, ready to love and cherish you forever…
But then…you stepped away.
“I…I can’t.” You whispered.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I tried…I tried to learn how to love you but…You’re too much like him. Too much like the one I do love. I…” Your hands went to your face, fingers digging into your cheeks as your breathing quickened.
“I need to find him.”
And you ran. The Erdleaf Flower fell from his hand.
Morgott watched with magic eyes as your form disappeared back inside the castle. He watched as his vision grew blurry, first from gold as the magic construct dissipated, and as watery tears spilled from his one good eye as he found himself staring at the wall of his study once more.
Of course.
…Of course.
Why did he-...
Why did he think anything else would have…To think even a projection of one so reviled as he would ever win your heart…
“You moronic old fool.” He hissed.
His chest hurt.
He stood from his chair, stumbling sideways as the room swayed around him. He caught himself on his desk, stationary clattering to the floor and his hand coming up to cradle his aching head. It…It was too small in here. He couldn’t breathe. He needed…needed to get out. Out.
He stumbled towards the window, smashing his fist through the delicate glass without flinching. The metal frame popped out and fell to the floor of his study with a shower of glass shards as he climbed through the stone frame. Glass embedded into the skin of his palms as he swung his feet over and onto the roof outside. He heard the voice of a guard, far below him on patrol speak.
“What was that!?” The Omen didn’t care to listen as another guard called out, simply sliding and jumping across the roof tiles and away. Away from this place, away from you.
From your warm smile, your comforting eyes, your lovely voice…
His left hand clawed at his chest as he jumped, nails digging into the gray muscles and skin layered over his heart.
It hurt so much…
He missed his next jump, his foot sliding from where it was supposed to land, and his stomach flipped as he felt himself fall. With a choked gasp he reached out, his fingers digging into hard stone as he managed to grab a thick railing above him. He heaved his massive weight up, uncaring of the sting of glass still in the meat of his palms. With a watery eye he took in his surroundings and realized where he had run to.
Heaving and trying to hold in his sobs, the Omen landed on his feet with a stumble into the open courtyard of the Erdtree. Golden thrones sat in a line, golden leaves fluttering across the carved stone floor as the night wind blew past. His shaking legs took him across the space, his gaze stuck on the wall of thorns blocking the entrance to the great golden tree. He climbed the great stone steps, his hands raising high, palms open towards the barrier.
His gnarled fingers grabbed at the thick vines, plant as hard as any metal, unyielding. He squeezed, watching as the thorns pierced his already cut skin, rivulets of blood flowing down his wrist and forearm to his elbow. Fat droplets fell and pooled together at his feet, soaking into the stone.
And for the first time in decades…the Omen sobbed.
Watching as his cursed blood flowed from his cuts, he cried and heaved, yanking flutiley at the thorns that never yielded to anyone.
“P-please…” He sputtered.
Silence.
“Please! Wh-why-? Why am I-? Why dost thou hate me so!?” His voice came out as a broken cry. “Why was I born with this curse? Why did thou not simply drown me-?” His tears fell, his nose dripping, blood soaking his hands and forearms. He fell to his knees, feeling more weak and broken than he has since he was a small child. His head fell forward, horns knocking against the thorns he cut himself upon.
His shoulders shook as he heaved, gasping breaths that did little to fill his lungs before everything was forcefully pushed out once more by a rib cracking sob. Even as his body shook he could feel himself losing touch with his emotions.
A cold numbness in his heart spreading and leaving him feeling hollow.
Behind him, he heard the sound of soft footfalls.
A voice, the last one he wanted to hear - one that still made his heart jump - spoke into the quiet.
“Morgott? I thought I would find you here…What happened? Are you all right?” Your voice was soft, like a balm to his soul even as it cracked and broke into small pieces. Your steps grew closer, he could feel you behind him on the stairs.
“Morgott, you’re scaring me, what-” He heard you gasp. “You’re bleeding! By Grace, Morgott, stop doing that! Come here-!” You were suddenly next to him, soft hands grabbing his wrists, trying to get him to let go of the thorns. Feeling empty even as tears still leaked from his eye, he let you lead him away from the barrier.
You were holding his arm, one of your own hands on his chest to help steady him as he walked down the stairs. As if you had any chance of carrying his weight should he fall…
“Oh Morgott, what happened, my sweet? Why are you here so late-” You prattled on as you guided him to sit on the stairs. Rather than answer you, he cut you off.
“Why art thou here?” His voice sounded broken, even to himself. You paused and met his golden gaze.
“I needed to talk to you, but it’s not important now.” With practiced movements you reached for the bottom of your robes and tore the cloth, revealing the supple curves of your legs. With a small strip you wiped up the blood staining his skin, checking for cuts along his forearms.
“...What?” It was less a question from him and more a statement of his confusion. You either ignored him or didn’t hear. Ignoring the sting in his hand he grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements and getting his cursed blood on you. You didn’t pull away.
“What is it, Tarnished.” He didn’t know why he needed to know. His mind was becoming aware of the situation and it was…odd that you were here. Why were you not with him, whoever he might be that stole your heart? You looked at him, lips pursed in frustration that he was stopping you from cleaning him up.
Eventually, you sigh.
“Can I at least clean you up while talking?” He narrowed his eye to a glare, but nodded and released your wrist. You looked relieved, moving back to cleaning the shredded skin of his hands. He felt the small sting of glass shards being pulled, your gaze focused on the task and refusing to meet his own eye.
“...I was on a walk earlier, and I-...realized something important.” His heart lurched. He was quite familiar with this realization you had and did not wish to hear it once more. He opened his mouth to stop you, but you continued on before he could make a sound.
“You’re very important to me, Morgott. The most important person in my life.” You stopped cleaning again, your eyes finally meeting his. You looked so…determined. And terrified.
“I love you. And I want to be with you.”
He felt his heart stop.
The Omen stared at you, unable to react as his mind tried to rationalize the situation.
“Thou…” He huffed, his head pounding.
“I love you Morgott. I have for a very long time now, and I want you to know it.” Your cheeks darkened as you spoke. “You don’t have to say anything now, not after tonight, but I wanted you to know. I needed you to know…even if I wish it was in a better way than…this.” You gestured vaguely at the blood between you both. He let his head fall back, staring into the branches of the Erdtree.
“This is…this is an illusion. It must be.” He whispered. He felt the sting of more glass being pulled.
“No. It’s real. If it makes you more comfortable however, we can pretend it’s not.” He squinted up at the sky. He didn’t like that you said that.
“I have spent weeks trying to earn thy affection, and now thou offer to pretend thee does not feel such a way towards mineself?” He looked down at you, his exhausted mind able to appreciate the cosmic humor of the situation even as it felt like he was about to vomit his own heart out. You looked shocked at his words, mouth open and eyes wide. Still so beautiful…
“You…you were trying to get my attention? Bu-but you were always away! I could never find you! And when I did it was always ‘I am too busy for thee, Tarnished’,” You tried to deepen your voice to match his, failing miserably. Despite his exhaustion, the corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement.
“The noble, Tarnished. The noble.” He watched as your brow furrowed in confusion, your lips mouthing his own words back at him. With grim amusement he watched as your expression cleared, eyes wide as you stared up at him. He looked away from you, staring at his lap. He waited for the rejection, the humiliation, to come.
“Morgott…” Your fingers, so soft, cupped his jaw and angled his head back up. “You…you were the one who wanted to court me? And I…rejected you…” He squeezed his eye shut and bit his tongue, nodding slowly.
“...I wanted to be…worthy of you…” He whispered. He heard you take a sharp inhale.
“Well, even if I knew it was you…I still would have said ‘no’. Do you know why?” It hurt to hear you admit it. There were many reasons why you would do so, too many for him to count. His cursed nature, his abnormal appearance, his failure to be a proper prince and monarch - instead being a sad shallow imitation of one. He could have listed all of this to you, but he didn’t trust his voice to not break with tears once more. He simply shook his head ‘no’.
“I would still say ‘no’ because,” You brought your face closer to his, still cupped in your tender hands, voice so close he could feel the warmth of your breath on his cheeks. “I love you. Just as you are.”
His eye peaked open, a sliver of gold that welled with tears once more at the honest love in your eyes.
“The noble…he acted like you, he was you, but he wasn’t what I wanted. I want you, exactly as you are. Handsome and regal, such a refined face…So tall and strong, beautiful silver fur…Impossibly stubborn.” You broke into a smile at the end, eyes darting over his face like you wanted to memorize every detail. Morgott breathed in a shuddering gasp, unable to believe the words you spoke.
“Everytime he asked me to go somewhere I…I couldn’t help but think about how much I would rather be with you. You stubborn fool…” A choked noise left him, unable to hold back his tears any longer, the wetness streaming down his cheeks for the second time that night. The fur of his beard soaked through and clinged to his throat. You moved your thumb to try and wipe away the wetness, gently ‘shushing’ his noises. He leaned into the touch despite himself, relishing the warmth of your hands.
He wanted to return your declaration, to tell you he loved you as well. He could feel the words clawing inside him, but fear held them back. A barrier, one that made his throat seize up when he opened his mouth to say something, anything, in return. Your eyes darted down to his lips and back up again. He could see it in your face, understanding.
“Morgott, you don’t need to say anything back. It’s been a long night for us both…” On that he could agree. “Let’s get you back to the castle and properly bandage you up. Then we can head to bed, hmm?”
He felt so weak and tired…The idea of letting his mind rest after tonight sounded wonderful…He nodded at your words, taking a deep breath to steady himself. Using his tail for balance he managed to lift himself back to his feet, needing minimal help from you. Distraught he may have been tonight, but he could still walk, and his pride would only let him seem weak for so long.
The two of you walked back down the winding halls from the Erdtree back to the castle proper, silent as you went. He didn’t even have the strength to argue with you about using the King’s suite for rest. He simply walked inside and sat on the massive mattress he refused to use, letting you fuss over his injuries.
He can’t recall when it happened, but when you were finally done he simply pulled himself further onto the bed, curling up with you for some much needed rest until the morning came.
Come the light of the morning sun, Morgott woke up with a lingering headache and a general bad taste in his mouth. He could hear your voice nearby, muffled and gentle. Peeking his golden eye open and looking through the darkness of the room, he saw you leaning out of a tiny crack in the doorway. Light spilled in from the hallway, and he could hear another voice with yours.
“-had an unexpected issue last night, so yes, just bring his meals here today.” The other voice sounded again, too muffled for him to understand what was being said. You responded.
“Oh yes, I will be making sure he gets his rest. He isn’t working today, not under my watch!” Your words were light, but the Omen could hear the unyielding determination in them. “Thank you again, it is greatly appreciated.” You opened the door wider, more golden light of the day spilling inside and making Morgott flinch. The smell of cooked sausage and turkey, eggs, and warm bread flooded the room, and his stomach growled against his will.
As he heard you close and lock the door his cheeks flushed with shame, preparing to be berated. How dare he even entertain the idea of eating such fine foods, a being like him. He shouldn’t be allowed to smell such fine foods, moreover he shouldn’t be in this room! In his exhausted state he had allowed you to lead him here, and now that he had his wits about him once more, he was painfully aware of how he didn’t belong here.
And yet, when you heard his stomach growl, you said nothing. When your gaze came to him, sitting on a bed made for a proper king, your eyes were tender with an even softer smile on your lips. He watched with tense muscles as you loaded up a plate high with delectable food, and he resigned himself to suffering through his hunger as you ate. He would not ask for any. He learned long ago such niceties were not for his kind. Carefully balancing the plate (piled with bread and sausage most precariously) you climbed onto the bed.
And settled right onto his lap, facing him.
All the Omen could do was stare, speechless, as you made yourself comfortable on his thighs. You wobbled as you shifted, and on instinct his hands shot out to grip your hips, keeping you in place.
“Oh, thank you beloved~” You purred. Morgott felt his ears burn, and could not meet your eyes. Now settled comfortably you grabbed a slice of bread, slathered with melting butter, and held it to his lips. He didn’t dare move.
“Come now Morgott, I know you’re hungry. Take a bite~” You waved the piece temptingly under his nose, and his mouth opened without his permission. As quick as he could he snapped his jaw shut again, turning away from the tempting morsel.
Through gritted teeth he managed to mumble, “That is not suitable for one such as I.” He expected you to huff and chastise him, as you always did when he didn’t ‘properly care for himself’, as you explained. He was too exhausted after last night to argue with you on what he did or didn’t deserve, and he hoped you would leave it be just this once…
The sigh you gave was less exasperated and more…sad? He looked to you out the corner of his eye. You were staring at the plate full of food, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy.
“...What?” He mumbled. It’s a trap, he knows it, but he can’t stand seeing such a look on your face. You sigh again, shoulders drooping.
“I told the staff to make your favorites…and they told me they didn’t know what they were…” You listlessly push the steaming sausage with your fork. “So I took a guess, hoping I would be right…but I guess I wasn’t.” He opens his mouth to retort that he’s never tried any of these foods, and so you aren’t wrong either, but you continue.
“Now I have all this food I can’t possibly eat. It’s all going to go to waste, and I hate throwing perfectly good food into the trash…Especially knowing that there are some out there starving, with nothing to eat…”
Your words have an immediate effect on him, memories of a childhood he’d rather forget. His dear brother crying when the hunger pangs grew too great, stealing crayfish eggs and nearly dying for them only to find their bellies still growling for more…
As a child he would have cried tears of joy for someone as beautiful and kind as you to offer him even a fragment of the food currently laid out before him. He groans, at war with himself, covering his face with a hand. He can’t, he knows he can’t eat such food, it’s not right-!
Your fingers wrap around his palm, pulling his hand away, and your face is suddenly right next to his. He can see the individual flecks of color in your eyes…
“Morgott,” You whisper, as if about to share a secret with him. “I won’t tell if you won’t. This can be just between us, a secret morning, yes?” The Omen bites his lip, eyes darting between yours and the food still steaming between you.
A secret…
He’s so tempted to agree, to trust your words, the one he fell in love with so long ago now…And you’re waiting for him to find his courage, sitting on his lap the way a lover would. His heart is racing and he can hear his blood pounding in his ears.
“...Just…just this one time, yes?” His voice sounded quiet even to his own ears. You smile in response, looking…proud…of him.
“Yes! Yes, just this one time…” You promise and hold the bread up to his lips once more. He squeezes his eyes shut and opens his mouth, fear making his hands tremble where they rest on your hips. His fingers dig into your soft flesh to ground himself.
He bites into the morsel of food, gingerly chewing. Flavor explodes on his tongue, a taste he didn’t think possible to come from simple bread flooding his senses, and a heady groan leaves him.
He freezes immediately, eye darting in a panic around the room as if some terrifying being would materialize and punish him for this indulgence.
Nothing happens.
You still sit comfortably on his lap, smiling, with more food.
“I’m so proud of you Morgott.” You whisper.
And like a spell has been cast, all the tension leaves his body and he sags, practically boneless, against the headboard and pillows as he swallows. You lean in closer still.
“Please my love, can I kiss you?” He stares at you, eye darting down to your soft lips so close to his own already, at your pleading gaze. He slowly nods, and you close the distance. Your lips press against his own with the gentleness of a flower and it has his heart thumping in his chest so fast and loud he’s certain the whole castle can hear it. As quick as you had come you pull away, scraping more food onto the fork and holding it up for him.
“Another bite? Then…another kiss?” You offer, and he can’t find the strength in himself to say ‘no’.
He takes every bite you offer, melts into every kiss you bless him with, until the food cart is nearly empty. His stomach feels so full, a feeling he isn’t at all used to after years of the minimal diet he would grant himself.
And you look so proud of him.
You put the empty plate back onto the cart and nuzzle into his chest, your breath warm against him even through the material of his cloak. His arms are still wrapped tight around your waist as he feels his body go slack. He’s never felt so relaxed…
He’s not sure when the two of you begin kissing again, but you do. Lips press together over and over, your combined panting filling the silence of the room everytime you separate. Your lips are swollen and almost bruised from the force of your own kisses and he’s sure he doesn’t look much better. His fingers tangle in your hair as you kiss again, and he gasps at the feeling of your tongue against his lips.
A long low moan leaves his chest, and he returns the action. He has no idea what he’s doing, but it feels good and you aren’t pulling away. His worries and fears of reality seem like a distant memory as he gets lost in your love, a syrupy warm feeling spreading through his insides at every touch from you.
It’s so much, so much feeling in his body - in his heart - he can’t make sense of anything anymore. He has to break away from you, throwing his head back into the pillows and panting, his hot breath clouding before him in the darkness of the room. He peers down at you, a tiny sliver of gold watching your every move.
Not one to waste an opportunity, your mouth finds its way to the thick corded muscle of his neck, licking and sucking his touch-starved skin like it's covered in sweet sugar. His hips buck up into you at the feeling and he feels his steely control slip.
His sheath is already pulling back, the hefty weight of his cock hardening, begging to be touched. He should feel ashamed, he knows. He should be apologizing, begging your forgiveness that such a disgusting part of himself is pressing against your warm thighs, but his voice won’t work. Choked moans and half-formed syllables of your name are all that he can manage.
You coo in response, the sweetest sound his ears have ever heard, and kiss him again, grinding your hips down against his own. Your tongue is in his mouth, and all he can do in response is try to copy your movements. When you pull away, a thin line of drool connects your swollen lips together before snapping.
“Morgott, beloved, please…” He doesn’t know what you’re asking for, but if it keeps you looking at him like this, he’ll move the Grace-damned moon for you. “P-please, can I…?”
“Wh-what-?” He feels a shock of self consciousness, his voice sounds ruined, but you bit your lip in response to his question.
“I just want…It’ll feel good, I promise-just... inside me, please…” He still doesn’t quite understand, but he thinks he likes it. He likes trusting you to not hurt him.
“Y-yes. Yes, whatever ye wish…” He whispers, and you reward him with another kiss. He can feel your hands, so small, on the ties of his robe, pulling the fabric loose so it falls from his shoulders to the bed below. He feels your nails glide along his sensitive skin, making his muscles jump and twitch. He moans into your kiss when your fingers grab him, your touch feeling sinful against the soft barbs lining his cock.
Your thumb presses against the weeping slit on his head, precum oozing out and covering your hand in a thick layer of slick. His hips buck again at the feeling and his tail thumps hard against the mattress, and your shared kiss is broken as you bounce on his lap from the force.
“F-fuuuck, okay my love, okay…Patience…” You breathe against his jaw line, pressing more soft kisses to the marked up skin of his throat. The king watches as your hands go to your own robes, and he grunts in agony at the loss of sensation to his body. You pull your night robes off as well, and for the first time Morgott is granted a full view of your beautiful body. His hands move to stroke up and down your waist without thought, enjoying the scars and marks that cover you and make you his sweet Tarnished.
You seem happy to let him do as he wishes, your focus elsewhere. He watches, fascinated, as your fingers move to the apex of your thighs and play with the slick gathering along your skin. With a wet ‘squelch’ your fingers sink into your cunt, and the sound has him moaning and biting his lip, his cock aching to be nestled deep inside your welcoming heat. You shudder at the sound of his voice, removing your fingers as quickly as you put them inside.
“It’s fine- I can’t wait any longer-” You pant, words rushed and breathless. Morgott feels weak and helpless as he watches you, desperate for any attention you decide to give him.
You maneuver your hips and grip his cock once more, with the same hand that had just been inside your wet cunt. The viscous precum his own cock is leaking mixes with your own and leaves his member slick and shiny, ready to slip inside your opening. Pupils blown wide with the lust, the two of you watch together as his cock slowly spreads your dripping lips. Your mouth drops open wide with a cry as you move, and Morgott feels an uncontrollable shudder go down his spine, his back arching as he holds you close to his chest.
Your hips sink further down onto his lap and suddenly your hands are gripping his horns and hair, pulling him into another soul shattering kiss. You keen against his lips when you’re finally flush against him, and he can’t hold back his own whimpers at the feeling.
When you separate for much needed air, you both pause, simply experiencing the feeling of being together, being whole. The Omen relaxes and holds you close to him and you nuzzle your face into the soft fluffy fur of his chest, the muscles of your leaking cunt squeezing him in time with your heartbeat. You both lay together, panting and trembling at the closeness you now share.
The Omen looks to you and pulls you in for another kiss, the searing heat he feels in his blood not at all unpleasant. He could do this forever it feels like, his hands roaming your skin as you kiss and kiss and kiss…
When you pull away for air he is surprised that his vision is blurry once more. You look at him with soft concern, your hand cupping his cheek and making him aware of the wetness now there. He sucks in a trembling breath, chest shuddering as he lets the emotions overwhelming him swell and bubble out. You are here. You will catch him as he falls. He trusts you.
“...I-...I love ye…my Tarnished…S-sweet Tarnished-” You kiss him again, hands roaming up to his head and grasping his hair and horns. Your fingers tangle against the silvery hair and hold him close, as if you can’t imagine being without him for a moment. Morgott’s own hand leaves your waist to carefully stroke your cheek, and he feels the tears on your own skin. He whimpers against your lips, feeling more loved and treasured here in this moment than he ever has in the long centuries he’s been alive.
When you both separate, you adjust your hands on his shoulders and begin to gently rock against him, his cock bumping against the opening of your womb. It has him sucking in air sharply through his gritted teeth as he holds you.
“It’s okay Morgott, it’s okay my love…I’m here, I have you…” You whisper. He can only babble in return.
“I-I love ye, s-so much…so much…”
“I love you too, I want to be with you, I want to marry you-” He cries out and bucks his hips, a feeling he’s never felt before washing over him. His knot swells where it’s nestled inside you, and cum leaks from the head of his cock in a slow, steady stream. You gasp at the feeling, the viscous liquid settling inside you with nowhere to go, tied to his knot as you are. Before your eyes your belly slowly swells and grows pudgy, and your hands move to cup the curve of it.
You moan and lay against his chest once more, panting and whimpering as the Omen rides out his high. His tail is thump-thumping against the bed as more cum trickles out of his cock, his chest heaving at the feeling.
Like a puppet with its strings cut, Morgott suddenly goes slack against the bed, looking dazed and overwhelmed. You press soft kisses to his chest and let him be, giving him a much needed moment to gather himself. When his breathing slows again, he speaks.
“I-I apologize…ye didn’t-” He draws in on himself, shame filling him knowing that he took advantage of your kindness and didn’t even help you reach bliss with him. He can feel his ears burning as he looks away from you.
Your delicate hand hooks his chin, directing his golden gaze back to you.
“It’s okay love, I understand…It’s overwhelming, yes?” You smile. He is helpless to do anything but nod. “You can make it up to me, we have all day, after all~”