Both would be wonderous! Love me some fluff with a lil naughty mixed in 👌🏻 Thank you Spirit of the Void 🖤🖤🖤🖤
Anon, I love you. And I will lovingly craft this meal for you. Kisses your lil head.
The Hollow Place
Outsider x Reader
(NSFW)
You were given a gift.
Most would argue it a curse. The Abbey of the Everyman would definitely label it as a filthy, disgusting act of witch craft that warranted your immediate branding and slaughter, body left in one of the far corners of the flooded district as rat food. But the opinions of superstitious old men and the cries of back alley lunatics didn't really stir your mind to change. You had been blessed by something deep, down in the Void, something with a kind voice and eyes as black as obsidian. Your deity, your God. Your blessing came by unfortunate circumstance. A kidnapping, a ritual, a life in the streets surviving on scraps of nothing and your body aching with pain. One of the upper society members had snatched you into a carriage, and unfamiliar men had dragged your body kicking and screaming into the basement of an upper class home near the guarded streets of the Boyle Mansion. You didn't think it was the Boyles themselves, but it hardly mattered. Not when it became a whirlwind of cloaked figures and blood chants, knives glistening in glowing blue lanterns and your screams left unheard to the sleeping city outside.
You did not die that night. And the ones who hurt you got the attention they sought.
But your body was the only one that stumbled out of that house, caked in blood and whispers of the Void clinging to your ears. In that dark place, he had approached you. Where the wind endlessly howled through the craggily rock faces, where effigies of memories past remained cast in stone for all eternity. The Void, it's maw wide open as it swallowed you within, where the awaiting embrace of the Outsider welcomed you to a life beyond humanity, beyond what fate had deemed your lot. He told you to do what you with his power. To hurt, to help, to give, to take. Whatever you sought would never displease him, and he would always be watching to see where your feet led you. So many paths branching from one place to the next, an endless web of everything that had never been at your disposal before. After a life spent in struggle, you were careful--there were lines you did not want to cross, and people you never wanted to emanate. If a deity thought you important enough to bare their mark, you would make it count by any means necessary.
And you did.
This was one such night. You were in high society now, your gift making it easy for you to step up the ladder that was once out of reach. Often invited to sing and dance at fancy balls and local events, your presence had become rather familiar to the high society families that once sneered down at you on street corners. They didn't remember your face, and never would.
Your gift was a precious thing, one you often used for good. To help people like you, those still struggling. Beguiling rich folks into handing over money and creating shelters for the poor was easy work, and you happily did so on more than one occasion. But there was something special about cursing a rich bastard into losing his health, watching him waste away into nothing in a painful state of decay. You sipped Gristol Cider, watching from an upper balcony of one of the Pendelton family estates as a wealthy man below began vomiting profusely among a crowd of confused and concerned onlookers. He had been your next chosen victim at this party in particular, the focus of your song as curses whispered underneath sweet notes of piano keys and thrumming lyres. A bastard who liked to snatch girls off the street for his own sick desires. It was already beginning, and you knew it would only get worse as the months passed by, slow and creeping as he fell apart.
Not that it was your problem, staying in a guest room of yet another meaninglessly extravagant estate, treated like royalty by wealthy men hoping you'd be the one to say "yes" to their offers of marriage. He was insignificant now that the curse lived in his bones, as were they. It was all white noise in the grand scheme of things.
You finished your drink without much fuss, turning away from the scene below just as someone was ushering out the sickly man, claiming he must have drank too much. The balcony doors shut behind you with a soft click, muffling the idle chatter into nothing and shutting out the world beyond through thin panes of frosted glass. You sighed softly, slipping over to a fanciful canopy bed seated against the far wall, flopping back against the plush blankets and staring up at the hanging tapestries above.
Longing burned in your gut, familiar and warm, cloying and cold. The whispering Void was ever close, plucking at those strings of desire as you rolled onto one side, picking at a loose, silken thread and gnawing at your lower lip. The party downstairs would end soon, and you were impatient in a dark, secluded bedroom, burning with the haunting presence of the Void. He usually visited when you were alone like this. There were no shrines nearby to speed up the process, and you were careful not to reveal your proclivities in risky places. But a rune was burning underneath one of those silken pillows, wrapped in cloth as it crackled and hissed while you slept. That should have been enough to keep the room open for his visits, coupled with your devotion.
Your eyes drifted shut in the seconds that ticked by unnoticed, one hand grasping the comforter beneath you and squeezing it tightly. You could no longer hear the sounds of laughter and merriment from below, everything but the quiet stirring of your own breath fading like water submerging you in its current. You wanted to be patient, but it was easier said than done. It had been so long since his last visit, and your restlessness betrayed you from the unconsciousness you sought. A thin bare connection to the Void, strengthened once your physical body fell away and your fingertips could lovingly caress the veil between.
You didn't notice the cold arriving, nor the way your breaths turned to crystalline clouds in the air, unnatural for the summer day sizzling across Dunwall. At some point, you might have actually fallen asleep despite the churning in your lower half, and only realized when the dull, distant howl began to fill your ears, and winds stirred your clothing like rolling, toiling ocean waves.
Fingers caressed your temple, both icy cold and burning with heat. You could never tell if he was freezing you or scorching your flesh. It was a welcome sensation as relief hummed through your addled mind, and your eyes opened to that dark emptiness like a friend returning home after many months away.
He was there, waiting for you. Leaning against one of the pillars of your canopy bed, now seated in a half-ruined version of that room in the Void. His face was one you knew well, all sculpted edges and tired lines, a coy smile playing at the edges of his lips. His black hair played almost boyishly in the swirling winds of the void, a sharp contrast against pale white skin. It was contested only by the darkness that was his eyes, irises and all. Obsidian black, reflecting the dull, blue lanterns glowing nearby and your visage laying still on the bed. In his domain, the marking left upon your skin burning with gentle, humming energy now that the Outsider was so close to your reach.
He was terrifying and beautiful, a comfort and a shiver up your spine.
You began to sit up, but the Outsider did not let you. In less time than it took to blink, he was laying next to you on the bed, his presence crackling like a lit flame. You felt the iron cage of his arms snake around your midsection, back flush with his chest as your heart leapt like a crazed, hungry animal. His touch was all you had needed, had craved, had longed for. You shivered, but your lips curved into a relieved smile, eyes drifting shut again as the familiar presence of the Void sank into the very marrow of your bones.
You could feel the Outsider's lips at your ear, but no breaths raised his chest. No heartbeat thrummed against your back, and his fingers were both hot and cold when one drifted up to trace a line from your clavicle to throat.
"So impatient," He whispered, voice echoing from all around you. Inside your head, in the air, from far away. "You call for me until your throat grows raw, until all of my other followers are drowned under the weight of it."
You sighed softly, leaning your head back and savoring the gentle weight of his chin upon your skull. He smelled like sea salt and something sweet, like echoes of the churning ocean without all the stink of Dunwall.
"Should I stop?" You asked, voice quiet under all the sounds that filled the Void. So loud, yet so quiet.
He clicked his tongue at that, something close to a laugh, but never quite there. More like a rumbling hum, a gentle sound that vibrated your lungs and stirred warmth in your lower half. You felt lips brush your hair, his hands sliding upwards until both were cupping your throat, sliding up your pulse and lingering there where it became your jaw. You trembled, unable to help yourself, unable to be anything but the impatient, needy thing the Outsider saw.
"No. I welcome your impatience," He murmured, one nail tracing across your lower lip as you resisted the urge to squirm in his grasp. "It echoes my own, watching you flit about the high societies your once loathed, playing their games, singing their songs as coin is trickled into the hands of orphans and the impoverished." it was impossible not to feel that budding, heady sensation that came with his praise, with his own admitted need. You finally managed to turn in his grasp, rolling to face him and meeting those obsidian eyes with your heart beating hard in your chest. The Outsider pulled you closer again, those chilly lips brushing your forehead, then your hairline as you lifted your fingers to his cheeks. Cupping them with reverence, like holding the thinnest porcelain glass that may crack or break if you press too hard.
He didn't feel real. Yet he was, flesh and bone, energy and vast intimidation pressed entirely to your form in the middle of the Void's gullet.
"Will you use the gifts I gave you in offering to me?" The Outsider bemused when a whimper broke past your lips. Only then did he finally kiss you, tilting your face upwards so the small noises you uttered could be muffled by his touch. "You sing, my little mouse. Whenever I am near, you crumble in my hands with so much as a touch."
You shivered, arms wrapping around him with renewed fervor and impatience. Each word he uttered was a hum against your lips, travelling down your throat.
"I missed you," Your voice was breathy, strained, desperate. "I miss you so when I am away. Each new return feels like months instead of days."
Something about your admittance warmed him, if only a noticeable fraction. It was hard to see anything but the Void's chill in his pitch black eyes, but they softened ever so delicately, black lashes lowering until they just barely hovered over his pallid cheeks.
"The Void will swallow you whole if you let it," The Outsider whispered, leaning in close enough that you could feel each ghosting flicker of his eyelids upon your cheek. His hand snaked into your hair, grasping just tight enough to wring a gasp as he continued. "The longer you visit, the more you stay, it takes pieces of you. Bit by bit, minute by minute, hour by hour."
He vanished for but a moment, your arms left with only open air. Only to reappear above you, hands braced on the bed on either side of your head. He made for a magnificent image then, his face pale against the Void's backdrop, hair endlessly drifting back and forth like fabric floating in the ocean. There was a hunger in the Outsider's eyes that thrilled you, frightened you, consumed you. A clear longing that was older than you could ever comprehend, swathed in centuries of loneliness and a gap that could not be bridged between himself and others. That gap was there in the Void with you, even as he knelt above, eyes meeting yours with all the dept of a black hole. You could have fallen inside, drowned, and drowned again if the Outsider would let it.
"Then let us make the time count," You replied, lifting a hand again to cup his cheek, thumb smoothing over the hard line of his cheekbone. "Before I am to be sent back again, and long for you until our next meeting."
The Outsider's lips twitched at the corners, eyelids drifting shut as he leaned into your touch without a moment's hesitation.
"So be it, my little mouse."
It was little effort to begin undressing for him, like a ceremonial offering gilded in fine fabrics for a God to unwrap. You were hoping he would visit that night, when the world was awhirl with the Void's energy and the veil was ever thin. The dress was light, undone with a few untied strings, slipping down your shoulders and onto the bed in a delicate heap. You let them slide down your legs, onto the floor where they vanished from view, eaten up by the Void where it would perpetually float like a ghost on the wind, for as long as the world existed. Or maybe it had always been there, like you, like him.
The Outsider's eyes watched, unreadable and dark in their attentiveness. He never once looked away, gaze flickering down the expanse of your body before returning to your face, watching as you settled yourself back on the bed in a thin chemise. So thin that you were practically bare, breasts flushed and visible through the dreamy fabrics. It was so incredibly human, if only for a moment, how the Outsider looked at you. All hunger, awe, and need, just the smallest of slips betraying several lifetimes of buried humanity, bubbling to the surface at the sight of you. Before he was unreadable again, lips tilted at the corners, lashes lowering in appreciation at how you arranged yourself on the bed.
He approached then, kneeling between your legs in a flash of movement your eyes couldn't quite register. Suddenly there, his face inches from yours, his hands pushing you flat against the mattress without much force. You were an eager supplicant, guiding his hands to the warmth of your skin, watching his face with rapt attention the moment his burning palms made contact with your breasts through the chemise. The Outsider looked as if he could have torn it off in that moment, black eyes alight as he beheld you, fingers shaping around your flesh with the same reverence you had shown him.
"Eager and perfect," The deity hummed, voice echoing all around you as he pulled the fabric up from your trembling form. "And always impatient, my mouse. How I wish I could take my time with you."
He leaned in closer again, lips pressing to yours, one hand bracing again so the other could travel lower, to your awaiting mound. The Outsider pressed the heel of his palm to it, just enough to drag a shivering whine from your throat, a plea at his altar for more of his touch. The scent of sea salt filled all your senses, a taste on your tongue as it melded against his. Warm, coiling, pressing, exploring. Firm, but not commanding. Even if it had tried to swallow you whole, you would have easily allowed it.
When his fingers dipped into your wet heat, you could have wept with relief. The Outsider couldn't afford to take his time, and that much was evident in how he handled you. Smearing slick over your clit, hard circles, then dipping lower. Your entrance was throbbing and warm for his arrival, appropriately yielding as the Outsider hissed, pressing inside. Two fingers easily made their home in your slit, then a third, wiggling against the soft heat of your insides as soft, trembling whimpers spilled out with each new movement. You arched into his touch, but the Outsider left little room for deeper contact, his lips sliding past yours to kiss along the side of your jaw with a groan emerging from his throat.
"Already drenched for me," He observed, voice betraying his delight if only slightly. He stroked his fingers over the mound of your cervix, rubbing upwards hard enough for you to choke out a cry at how stimulation burned at the stems of your clit. "So perfect, little mouse. How I wish I could spend an eternity with you, here in this bed."
You would have echoed his sentiments, had you enough sense to remember how to speak. But that ability was long gone, and all your could do was bury your face in his shoulder, trying to recall how to breathe as the Outsider's burning, thrumming touch thrust in and out of your aching slit.
"Please...!" You managed a gasp, hands sliding into his silken hair as if holding him there would prevent him from ever leaving again. "Inside, please--"
You were getting close to coming on his fingers, but you didn't want that. You wanted to feel his cock inside of you again, shaping your insides, listening to him hiss and gasp your name.
The Outsider shuddered, a very human sensation that felt odd with the ever humming energy of his presence. You felt the movement in his body, then rippling through the Void, backdropped by the howling as things moved and shifted around you in response. As if his very life was all that breathed around you, ever rock, every memory, every floating bit of forgotten debris.
The retreat of his touch was a loss you almost mourned immediately, but any and all thoughts of that fading orgasm were lost the moment you felt him pressing on your thighs, fingers still wet and splayed where they began to position you for his pleasure. You eagerly obeyed, eyes lifting to his face as the Outsider leaned back just enough to sweep his gaze over you, watching as you pulled your knees back just enough to strain, pussy open for his viewing and chemise bunched around your neck. You saw his jaw tighten visibly, head tilting ever so slightly to the side in appreciation at what he saw, but there was little time for admiration, not when he knew what the Void was doing to you with each passing second.
He never undressed fully. You wondered if he could. But your focus was fracturing now, watching the Outsider's lashes lower, the hand that had been pleasuring you mere seconds earlier the very same to undo his slacks, his cock already erect when his palm eased it from its confines. He was a beautiful thing, slightly curved, pale and flushed an almost greyish color at the tip. You could see tendrils, thin and black flitting about the edges of the opening he created, as if something far more sinister waited just on the fabric edges, eager to plunge inside your eagerly awaiting slit. Human, but not quite. As always.
He was pressing closer in the next blink of your eyes, one palm guiding his shaft, the other splayed on the soft mound of your pelvic region. You quaked beneath him, legs trembling as they rested against his shoulders, the Void falling away all around you in favor of your own heartbeat roaring in your ears. You wanted, you needed, you craved. Desperately and endlessly, with all the devotion your body could muster as the mark he left on your hand smoldered and hissed with energy.
You took him in easily, welcoming the hard press of his shaft with slick eagerness. The Outsider groaned, the sound a reverberating echo that thrilled you to your very core, his head bowing just enough for you to see lips pull back from from his teeth, and dark lashes landing against the same cheekbones you had been kissing. You could feel him, cold and burning, thrumming and thick where his shaft spread you wide enough to ache, but not enough to hurt. Your arousal made for quick entry, a blessing and a curse that you tried not to lament. Time was slipping away, and you were ever aware of it now, wishing for each new second you could get before you were left back to the living realm once again.
"So warm," The Outsider whispered, bowing over you and letting the head of his cock align with your cervix. Your arms wrapped around his neck on instinct, pulling the deity in closer so his next utterance was against your neck. "So alive. I can feel your connection to me, crackling with life energy."
You could feel him too. Hollow, endless, dark and light all at the same time. Nothing and everything, yet utterly real in your arms, his cock pressing hard into your aching hole.
"Y-yes..." You whimpered, biting softly at the edge of his jaw, just above the dark line of his collar. "Yours, always."
The Outsider sucked in air through his teeth at that, another shudder passing down his spine. You felt it under your fingers mere seconds before he began to rut into you, shallow and hard, head bowed and face pressing to the crook of your neck. Any and all thoughts fell away then, and you didn't bother trying to maintain them. All was lost to the rhythmic grinding of his cock in your sheath, sometimes sloppy, desperate in a way that seemed ill befitting of a God. You reveled in it, head tilting back and back arching into his thrusts, moans tearing themselves out of your throat and heat overflowing from your core. He was right when he said you crumbled easily at his touch, because you were unravelling faster than you could ever put yourself back together again.
Time was impossible to gauge then, as your body writhed against his. Never long enough to sate you, to sate him. You could feel the Outsider's cock pumping and thrusting against the slick walls of your insides, his teeth biting down into the fleshy part of your shoulder, hands holding your waist fast against his own. Parts of him seemed to blur around the edges, flickering, almost crystalline and black with Void energy. You kissed those spots, panting and whimpering, desperate to make him feel as good as you felt. Pleasure was coiling in your gut, rising faster than it had before. A dull throb becoming a crescendo, hips twisting against the Outsider to deepen his thrusts, to keep his cockhead rutting right against the innermost stem of your clit. All the while trying to maintain your pleasure, if only for a little while.
You wanted to draw it out as long as possible, but couldn't focus long enough to slow yourself down. He was devouring you whole, and your orgasm was something you knew full well could not be avoided.
"Outsider...!" Your cry tore out of your throat the moment that pleasure peaked, hips locking hard against his and your hands tightening on the back of his clothing. You spasmed, insides throbbing with pleasure, eyes squeezing shut and warmth like a flood through your lower half. Dizzying and quick, then slowing, heady and heavy in your womb and hips.
He snarled against your shoulder, teeth still digging in the moment his rutting thrusts grew in desperation. You were locked hard in his embrace, head tilted back as the Outsider clung to you, form trembling, his cock deep inside your pussy and his voice more raw and human than you had ever heard it.
"Y/N--"
Your name felt like a prayer and plea on his lips, a shuddering echo that passed through the Void as he came hard into your wet insides. The Outsider bowed over you, breathing heavily, one hand smoothing up your sweat-slick back and clenching at the chemise fabric hard enough to tear it. You felt the almost cold heat of his seed gush against your cervix, filling you in great bursts that had your hips jolting and trembling from the stimulation. Over and over, again and again. Until your eyes rolled back in your head, and you felt on the cusp of coming again just from the sensation of him filling up your sheath.
You could have stayed there forever, writhing with pleasure, tasting the salt of his skin and feeling the burning, chilly essence of the Void on your tongue. It swam in your head, making it heavy, and for a moment you felt as if drifting out to sea, unable to feel your limbs aside from where the Outsider's hands touched you. Those spots burned with frozen fire, tracing lines across your thrumming pulse, your name a whispered prayer on the Void wind.
It slowed like an ebbing tide, the Outsider kissing from your chest to your lips in one swift, desperate line. You could still feel him throbbing inside, his essence thick and full in the spaces his cock didn't occupy. You trembled at the way he pressed into you, the attempts he made at getting every touch he could in before that inevitable end found you there in the Void's stomach.
You knew it was there. The return, waiting for those last few moments of pleasure to flicker and die before the Outsider sent you back to the waking world.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, voice hitching softly where it bled into his ear, "Stay, please."
There was a pause, a strain. His face against your own, cheek to cheek, fingers threaded into your hair and the familiar weight of his body pressing yours into the bed.
When he spoke again, his voice was unbearably soft, gentle, longing just as much as you felt. Punctuated by several presses of his lips against your temple, your cheek, your mouth as the Outsider's whisper echoed endlessly into the Void.
"I am always with you, mouse. And you will always find your way back to me."
You wanted to protest. To beg, to plead for a place in the Void at his side, even if it meant being swallowed whole as he had once been, all those years ago when the Outsider was still human.
But you didn't get the chance.
You awoke in your bed gasping, blinking once and finding the canopy bed above your prone form, instead of the Void's floating visage.
It was disorienting for a moment, being back in your waking body. You still wore the dress you fell asleep in, only now it was drenched in sweat, your thighs slick with your own arousal and the Outsider's seed. You felt the sticky heat of a summer morning replacing the Void cold, skin shuddering in revulsion at the sharp contrast and a hand raising to your forehead with a groan. How strange it was to awaken in that bed again, heart racing, pleasure a ghost along your flesh and the lingering essence of the Outsider's touch still there with you in the waking realm.
You lay there for quite some time, catching your breath. Letting the hollow sensation of being alone settle back in again. It takes a few minutes for you to realize that the sensation of falling you had experienced had been you losing yourself to the Void, if only a little bit. It left you feeling a familiar ache in your chest, eyes fluttering shut as you listened to the chirping cicadas in the outside trees of the estate, waiting for the hollow knock of a maid to come help set up your morning bath.
He was right. He always was.
You would return to him again, and he was always there with you, his energies crackling in your hands, your throat, and hissing from the rune still sitting under your pillow.
And maybe someday the Void would get to swallow you whole. All you hoped was it would have the good graces to keep you there, to be at the Outsider's side so he wouldn't have to spend another day in that eternity alone and wanting.
(Hope you enjoyed <3)
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