#lustxoc

[litnerdwrites]

Clandestine Affairs - Lust X OC (I)

A/N: Omg, the first part of Clandestine Affairs is finally done! I'm so excited to share this with you all. I'll try to update weekly, but if I can't, I'll see if I can get some Euphemia content out. Other than that, I have a Gluttony x Reader oneshot I'm working on to, but I don't know when I'd upload that. Tomorrow, I'll set up a masterlist that'll be pinned to my blog. If you have theories as to where this will go before we reach the point my Prince of Sin week work ended on, or want to be tagged in this series, comment and let me know. Finally, if you want some spoilers as to where this series is going, Speak Now is a oneshot for Lust with this same OC that I did for Prince of Sin week, and this is just fleshing out his and Amara's story a little, so feel free go check that out, along with @princeofsinweek for a bunch of KOTW content.

WC: 1887

TW: Implied suicidal behaviour, implied abuse, implied suicide attempt, implied suicide attempt by FMC.

Speak Now Chapter 1 (You are here) Chapter 2

She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there, eyes locked on the crashing waves below, but not really looking at them. 

“Get out of my sight,” 

The sudden wind at her back had her lurching forward. Or was it a hand? Was the voice in her head? She couldn’t tell anymore. 

SMASH

The waves sound like shattering glass.

Or does the glass shattering sound like the waves crashing? 

Which one could she hear?

“I’m sorry, Mara. My poor, sweet Amara,”

Another crash draws her attention to the raging sea. If it were a little louder, could it, perhaps, it could drown out the rend of her heart when those words played.

It would be so easy to just… lean forward. 

Just a little. 

Chunks of earth crumble beneath her knees, where her legs dangle off the side, and disappear into the inky waters below. 

That could be her. 

It would be easy. 

Just lean forward. 

Grasp a piece of the sweet oblivion she longed for. 

Easy.

It’s right there.

Peace.

Oblivion.  

So, so easy. 

Just-

Something rushed through her, like rapids flowing through her veins, sudden enough to draw the air from her lungs, and has her lurching back. Pulled from her trance, her eyes searched around for the source of the feeling. Fishing boats, and personal ships bobbed in the distance, some hanging lanterns to mark their location from shore, while shadows danced below the surface. 

Dragging her gaze away, she scanned the area, searching for what might have been the cause of the sudden rush she’d felt. At a glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The night’s pearl had long since taken her place, surrounded by glittering diamonds, forming constellations in the sky. Stalls and vendors had been packed away, with every respectable merchant having gone home to their family, likely tucked into bed, or in front of a warm fire with a drink by now. Her heart clenched at the thought, just as a chilly breeze swept over her.

Suddenly, she longed for that warmth. A warm fire, or a blanket- anything to keep the cold at bay, and warm her chilled body. 

As her eyes searched, they caught on a light coming from behind a rock formation at the edge of the nearby beach. With slow, cautious steps, she walked along the edge of the cliff, until she could see a mass of figures surrounding a large bonfire. They were chatting, eating, and dancing to the most hypnotic music she’d ever heard.

For a moment, she wondered where the music was coming from, as she didn’t see anyone with instruments amongst or near the mass. The thought was quickly banished from her head with another gust of wind, and suddenly it was all she could think of, to get closer to that warmth.

It was such a familiar occurrence that she didn’t even struggle when she felt those dark thoughts and fatigue pulling her under, leaving her as a passenger in her own body, letting it run through the motions as she sank further into the darkness. Perhaps that was why she didn’t notice as her legs began to move, or that little voice inside, screaming at her to stop. 

Instead, she let her feet carry her towards the bonfire.

Entranced, she made her way down the side of the cliff, vaguely registering the way her limbs trembled. She wondered if it was from anticipation or the cold. The thought passed quickly though, and before long, she found herself right in front of the pyre, where the flames danced against the backdrop of night. But, something was different. When she turned her head, giving the area a slow once over, she realised; The crowd was gone. 

Instead, there was only a single person, dancing around the bonfire to an indiscernible source of music. That should’ve bothered her more.

The sculptures that nobles commissioned from renowned artisans to line their overly elaborate halls must’ve been inspired by the man. He wore a silver suit, though seemed to have either discarded or, more likely, forgone a shirt or vest.

His skin was gold, hair dark, and his eyes were the colour of charcoal. Yet, somehow, she got the impression that if she met his gaze, she’d feel like she was falling into a different kind of abyss than the one she was used to. This one would be darkened by desire, though be it to disrobe or begin worshiping, she couldn’t tell.   

“If you like what you see, then why not join?” The man’s voice jolted her from her thoughts. 

He had been across the beach a moment ago, but now he stood right in front of her. 

Too close. 

His face was too close, as he bent at the waist to examine her. It was only then, when she felt that flaming circlet flicker against her forehead that she realised how… Wrong- no. Not wrong. Off? How... Strange? No. How… Unsettling it was. 

“Doesn’t your head get hot during the summer?”

The man’s eyes widened, and he had jerked back, clearly surprised by the question.

No sooner had the words left her mouth, Amara dropped her head and slapped a hand over her mouth. She tucked her chin against her collarbone, stiffening, before taking two steps back. Every second she felt his gaze on her, searching her, as if peeling back every layer to find the deepest secrets, locked in her heart. 

With every ounce of strength left, she pulled her hands from her mouth, willing- forcing herself to stutter an apology. 

“I- I’m so-” 

“There are no summers where I’m from,” 

Amara’s head snapped up, but she kept her hands close to her mouth, ready to raise them to her face at a moments’ notice. The man was grinning casually, amusement clear in his voice. 

She blinked up at him, hands still pressed to her mouth, but eyes wide and curious. He seemed so jovial when she first saw him, then surprised at her outburst, but that was nothing new, and then, even without seeing his face, she felt like he’d instantly whittled down, through every layer of her until he found her secrets laid bare. Now, he seemed like any other bored noble’s son, seeking attention. 

“Should you not be more concerned by it?” he cocked his head to the side.

Amara dropped her hands from her mouth, and blinked up at him again. After a few moments under his expectant gaze, answered with a shrug. 

“I have… Seen stranger. I am a witch, after all.”

His brows shot up. 

“You seem remarkably comfortable sharing that, when all it would take is the wrong person overhearing for you to be condemned,” 

“You obviously aren’t human, and even if you were, then I guess that’s my mistake,” 

His eyes narrowed, as he circled her. 

Amara didn’t bother tracking his movements. 

Silence stretched on for what felt like hours, though was likely only minutes.

“Do you know who I am, Stella Stregah?” he finally asked, coming back to stand in front of her. 

“A Malvagi,” she stated, matter of factly, if not somewhat dully, before looking behind him, amd asking hesitantly, “Why are you having a bonfire all alone?” 

“Would you care to join me?” was the only response he gave, head cocked to the side.

“Why?”

“Dance with me, and perhaps you’ll find out,” the demon bowed at the waist, offering his hand to her. Amara eyed him, and his grin widened, before he asked, “What could you have to lose?”

Her eyes widened at his words. 

“My life,” she blurted. 

“But you don’t care about that,”

“What?” 

His eyes moved to the cliff she was sitting on, before she wandered down here, and she followed his gaze. 

“If you cared about your life, then why would you allow yourself to lean so close to the edge?” he asks. 

“Heights don’t scare me,” Amara responds, struggling to keep her voice even.  

The man simply grins wider, before shrugging, as if pocketing the information, and holding out his hand again.

“If a height like that doesn’t frighten you, surely a mere dance won’t shake you either, no?” 

She narrowed her eyes, intent on rejecting it, as his words replayed in her mind. 

What did she have to lose? If she died, no one could say she took the coward’s way out. If she didn’t, what would be the harm? Perhaps it would be fun? Perhaps it could breathe some life into her for the first time in what felt like forever. Perhaps she’ll be able to escape her torments for a night. What could be the harm?

With a sigh, she took the man’s waiting hand. 

Music filled her ear again, though there was no discernible source, as the demon guided her through the steps. Amara let him, keeping up with the steps expertly. She followed his lead, though never once made eye contact with the demon. 

“Which one of the seven are you?” 

“The best looking and most well endowed, naturally,” he grins. Amara’s expression deadpans. This seems to amuse him more. “I go by many names, Stregah, but you may call me Lust,” 

She narrowed her eyes on him. Taking a moment to examine herself, and thinking over their interactions thus far. It didn’t seem like he used his powers on her.

“Have you tried to influence me with your sin, yet?” 

Lust cocks his head to the side, examining her, as if considering if he should tell her or not. She leveled him with an impatient glare in response, though it only seemed to amuse him. Still, it seemed to convince him.

“For a time,” Lust admits, and Amara narrows her eyes. 

“What?”

“You have a lot of questions, don’t you, little witch. Careful, each answer will cost you,” he warns. 

“I…See,” 

“Tell me, why were you so close to the edge, Stella Stregah?” 

Lust raised a brow, examining the way her face scrunched. 

“That’s not your concern, Malvagi.” Amara snapped, moving to pull away.

He chuckled, yanking her into a spin, before she could, then caught her, and pushed her into a dip, hand cupping the thigh of her raised leg. His face was mere inches from hers.

“No need to be so wrathful, little witch. Let go of your troubles for a night. Release those pent up feelings and give in to your desires,”  

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she told him, point blank. 

“I never said you should. Not unless those are your desires,” Lust shrugged, not rising from the dip, letting his hand trail down her leg, “Dance. Drink,” she glanced behind him to see a table of drinks and food she hadn’t noticed before, and on the other side, comfortable looking chairs were laid out around the bonfire, “Rest. Talk. Sing. Give into whatever brings your pleasure,” 

“You mean to feed your sin-" Amara's thoughts came to a halt, her eyes narrowed, "If you are the Prince of Lust, why not encourage, or influence more..."  

"Why not influence more carnal or debaucherous forms of pleasure?" He finished, lips quirked into a wicked grin as his thumb began to trace circles into her thigh. "There are many forms of pleasure, Stregah, and fucking is merely one of them. Is happiness itself not a part of pleasure and satisfaction?" 

Amara's breath hitched, as heat trailed in his wake, spreading from her thigh to her core. 

"I- I suppose," she muttered, as she fought the warmth of his touch, as well as any indication of the sort of effect he had on her. 

The last thing she needed was for The Prince of Lust to assume she had any desire to be in any way... intimate... with him. Just the thought alone had blood rushing to her cheeks and her stomach in knots. 

“Can you deny that giving in to pleasure, forgetting what ails you, even for a single night, would be bad?” Lust's brow cocked as he posed the question, snapping Amara from her thoughts.

It wouldn’t. If it wasn't sex of any kind, then she knew it wouldn’t.

“Surely you have plenty of people available to feed your sin,” 

“Yet, at this time, I make this offer to you, and you alone," 

Amara’s eyes narrowed. 

“If I give into pleasure, you won’t use your sin on me?” 

“Not unless you ask, little witch,” 

“Then it’s a deal. Just for tonight.” 

“Just for tonight.” 

Just for tonight. What could possibly go wrong, in just a night?

[princeofsinweek]

Loved this so much! Can't wait for the next part!

Clandestine Affairs - Lust X OC

A/N: Omg, the first part of Clandestine Affairs is finally done! I'm so excited to share this with you all. I'll try to update weekly, but if I can't, I'll see if I can get some Euphemia content out. Other than that, I have a Gluttony x Reader oneshot I'm working on to, but I don't know when I'd upload that. Tomorrow, I'll set up a masterlist that'll be pinned to my blog. If you have theories as to where this will go before we reach the point my Prince of Sin week work ended on, or want to be tagged in this series, comment and let me know. Finally, if you want some spoilers as to where this series is going, Speak Now is a oneshot for Lust with this same OC that I did for Prince of Sin week, and this is just fleshing out his and Amara's story a little, so feel free go check that out, along with @princeofsinweek for a bunch of KOTW content.

WC: 1887

TW: Implied suicidal behaviour, implied abuse, implied suicide attempt, implied suicide attempt by FMC.

Speak Now Chapter 1 (You are here) Chapter 2

She wasn’t sure how long she’d sat there, eyes locked on the crashing waves below, but not really looking at them. 

“Get out of my sight,” 

The sudden wind at her back had her lurching forward. Or was it a hand? Was the voice in her head? She couldn’t tell anymore. 

SMASH

The waves sound like shattering glass.

Or does the glass shattering sound like the waves crashing? 

Which one could she hear?

“I’m sorry, Mara. My poor, sweet Amara,”

Another crash draws her attention to the raging sea. If it were a little louder, could it, perhaps, it could drown out the rend of her heart when those words played.

It would be so easy to just… lean forward. 

Just a little. 

Chunks of earth crumble beneath her knees, where her legs dangle off the side, and disappear into the inky waters below. 

That could be her. 

It would be easy. 

Just lean forward. 

Grasp a piece of the sweet oblivion you long for. 

Easy.

It’s right there.

Peace.

Oblivion.  

So, so easy. 

Just-

Something rushed through her, like rapids flowing through her veins, sudden enough to draw the air from her lungs, and has her lurching back. Pulled from her trance, her eyes searched around for the source of the feeling. Fishing boats, and personal ships bobbed in the distance, some hanging lanterns to mark their location from shore, while shadows danced below the surface. 

Dragging her gaze away, she scanned the area, searching for what might have been the cause of the sudden rush she’d felt. At a glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The night’s pearl had long since taken her place, surrounded by glittering diamonds, forming constellations in the sky. Stalls and vendors had been packed away, with every respectable merchant having gone home to their family, likely tucked into bed, or in front of a warm fire with a glass of wine by now. Her heart clenched at the thought, just as a chilly breeze swept over her.

Suddenly, she longed for that warmth. A warm fire, or a blanket- anything to keep the cold at bay, and warm her chilled body. 

As her eyes searched, they caught on a light coming from behind a rock formation at the edge of the nearby beach. With slow, cautious steps, she walked along the edge of the cliff, until she could see a mass of figures surrounding a large bonfire. They were chatting, eating, and dancing to the most hypnotic music she’d ever heard.

For a moment, she wondered where the music was coming from, as she didn’t see anyone with instruments amongst or near the mass. The thought was quickly banished from her head with another gust of wind, and suddenly it was all she could think of, to get closer to that warmth.

It was such a common occurrence that she didn’t even struggle when she felt those dark thoughts and fatigue pulling her under, leaving her as a passenger in her own body, letting it run through the motions as she sank further into the darkness. Perhaps that was why she didn’t notice her legs begin to move, or that little voice in her heart, screaming at her to stop. 

Instead, she lets her feet carry her towards the bonfire.

As if in a trance, she makes her way down the side of the cliff. Vaguely, she registered her trembling limbs, and wondered if it was from anticipation or the cold. The thought passed quickly though, and before long, she found herself right in front of the flames, but the crowd was gone. 

Instead, there was only a single person, dancing around the bonfire to an indiscernible source of music. That should’ve bothered her more.

The sculptures that nobles commissioned from renowned artisans to line their overly elaborate halls must’ve been inspired by the man. He wore a silver suit, though seemed to have either discarded or, more likely, forgone a shirt or vest.

His skin was gold, hair dark, and his eyes were the color of charcoal. Yet, somehow, she got the impression that if she met his gaze, she’d feel like she was falling into a different kind of abyss than the one she was used to. This one would be darkened by desire, though be it to disrobe or begin worshiping, she couldn’t tell.   

“If you like what you see, then why not join?” The man’s voice jolted her from her thoughts. 

He had been across the beach a moment ago, but now he stood right in front of her. 

Too close. 

His face was too close, as he bent at the waist to examine her. It was only then, when she felt that flaming circlet flicker against her forehead that she realized how… Wrong- no. Not wrong. How… Strange it was. 

“Doesn’t your head get hot during the summer?”

The man’s eyes widened, and he had jerked back, clearly surprised by the question.

No sooner had the words left her mouth, Amara dropped her head and slapped a hand over her mouth. She tucked her chin against her collarbone, stiffening, before taking two steps back. Every second she felt his gaze on her, searching her, as if peeling back every layer to find the deepest secrets, locked in her heart. 

With every ounce of strength left, she pulled her hands from her mouth, willing- forcing herself to stutter an apology. 

“I- I’m so-” 

“There are no summers where I’m from,” 

Amara’s head snapped up, but she kept her hands close to her mouth, ready to raise them to her face at a moments’ notice. The man was grinning casually, amusement clear in his voice. 

She blinked up at him, hands still pressed to her mouth, but eyes wide and curious. He seemed so jovial when she first saw him, then surprised at her outburst, but that was nothing new, and then, even without seeing his face, she felt like he’d instantly whittled down, through every layer of her until he found her secrets laid bare. Now, he seemed like any other bored noble’s son, seeking attention. 

“Should you not be more concerned by it?” he cocked his head to the side.

Amara dropped her hands from her mouth, and blinked up at him again. After a few moments under his expectant gaze, answered with a shrug. 

“I have… Seen stranger. I am a witch, after all.”

His brows shot up. 

“You seem remarkably comfortable sharing that, when all it would take is the wrong person overhearing for you to be condemned,” 

“You obviously aren’t human, and even if you were, then I guess that’s my mistake,” 

His eyes narrowed, as he circled her. 

Amara didn’t bother tracking his movements. 

Silence stretched on for what felt like hours, though was likely only minutes.

“Do you know who I am, Stella Stregah?” he finally asked, coming back to stand in front of her. 

“A Malvagi,” she stated, matter of factly, if not somewhat dully, before looking behind him, amd asking hesitantly, “Why are you having a bonfire all alone?” 

“Would you care to join me?” was the only response he gave, head cocked to the side.

“Why?”

“Dance with me, and perhaps you’ll find out,” the demon bowed at the waist, offering his hand to her. Amara eyed him, and his grin widened, before he asked, “What could you have to lose?”

Her eyes widened at his words. 

“My life,” she blurted. 

“But you don’t care about that,”

“What?” 

His eyes moved to the cliff she was sitting on, before she wandered down here, and she followed his gaze. 

“If you cared about your life, then why would you allow yourself to lean so close to the edge?” he asks. 

“Heights don’t scare me,” Amara responds, struggling to keep her voice even.  

The man simply grins wider, before shrugging, as if pocketing the information, and holding out his hand again.

“If a height like that doesn’t frighten you, surely a mere dance won’t shake you either, no?” 

She narrowed her eyes, intent on rejecting it, as his words replayed in her mind. 

What did she have to lose? If she died, no one could say she took the coward’s way out. If she didn’t, what would be the harm? Perhaps it would be fun? Perhaps it could breathe some life into her for the first time in what felt like forever. Perhaps she’ll be able to escape her torments for a night. What could be the harm?

With a sigh, she took the man’s waiting hand. 

Music filled her ear again, though there was no discernible source, as the demon guided her through the steps. Amara let him, keeping up with the steps expertly. She followed his lead, though never once made eye contact with the demon. 

“Which one of the seven are you?” 

“The best looking and most well endowed, naturally,” he grins. Amara’s expression deadpans. This seems to amuse him more. “I go by many names, Stregah, but you may call me Lust,” 

She narrowed her eyes on him. Taking a moment to examine herself, and thinking over their interactions thus far. It didn’t seem like he used his powers on her.

“Have you tried to influence me with your sin, yet?” 

Lust cocks his head to the side, examining her, as if considering if he should tell her or not. She leveled him with an impatient glare in response, though it only seemed to amuse him. Still, it seemed to convince him.

“For a time,” Lust admits, and Amara narrows her eyes. 

“What?”

“You have a lot of questions, don’t you, little witch. Careful, each answer will cost you,” he warns. 

“I…See,” 

“Tell me, why were you so close to the edge, Stella Stregah?” 

Lust raised a brow, examining the way her face scrunched. 

“That’s not your concern, Malvagi.” Amara snapped, moving to pull away.

He chuckled, yanking her into a spin, before she could, then caught her, and pushed her into a dip, hand cupping the thigh of her raised leg. His face was mear inches from hers.

“No need to be so wrathful, little witch. Let go of your troubles for a night. Release those pent up feelings and give in to your desires,” 

“I’m not sleeping with you,” she told him, point blank. 

“I never said you should. Not unless those are your desires,” Lust shrugged, not rising from the dip, letting his hand trail down her leg, “Dance. Drink,” she glanced behind him to see a table of drinks and food she hadn’t noticed before, and on the other side, comfortable looking chairs were laid out around the bonfire, “Rest. Talk. Sing. Give into whatever brings your pleasure,” 

“You mean to feed your sin.” 

He gives her a wicked grin. 

“Can you deny that giving in to pleasure, forgetting what ails you, even for a single night, would be bad?” 

It wouldn’t. She knew it wouldn’t. 

“Surely you have plenty of people available to feed your sin,” 

“Yet I make this offer to you, and you alone,,” 

Amara’s eyes narrowed. 

“If I give into pleasure, you won’t use your sin on me?” 

“Not unless you ask, little witch,” 

“Then it’s a deal. Just for tonight.” 

“Just for tonight.” 

Just for tonight. What could possibly go wrong, in just a night?