#wearing nothing but glitter and lashes dot ao3

[bright-and-burning]

wearing nothing but glitter and lashes

(oscar piastri/lando norris, explicit, 2.3k)

Oscar twists her hands back, unzipping the back of her dress to let it slide right off. She steps carefully out of the pile of fabric. She’ll hang it up later, she lies to herself. Lando’s still wriggling out of her own dress, contorted into an uncomfortable looking shape, but when Oscar moves to help, she’s waved off. Oscar shrugs and goes for the bedside table instead. “Wand, you think?” A dull thud, behind her. Oscar turns. Lando’s on the floor now, for the third time this evening. She’s almost fully out of the dress, silk pooled loosely around her ankles. “Yeah, alright,” Lando says, like she isn’t wide-eyed and breathless.

[kondo-hijikata]

Pairings: Past Kondo/Akagi Kentaro, Background established Kondo/Hijikata Rating: M Summary: Ken has it all, so why why why is he so jealous of Hijikata Toshizo?  [AO3] More background information on my OC is in the notes on AO3.

.*Want for Nothing*.  

Beautiful shoji, pearl colored walls, golden tatami. Extravagant furniture to match extravagant attire. Lavish paintings, exquisite pottery…wealth and status and power beyond any mere peon’s imagination.

The kiseru hit the ashtray with a stark clang.

He had everything, so how could he, a man with everything, be…

Ken’s eyes stared unblinking into the meticulously maintained garden shrouded by night, unwilling to finish such an unsavory question even in the privacy of his own mind. Alas, it had been that kind of poison which consumed him since the dinner event on Matsudaira-ko’s castle grounds this evening.

Jealousy.

He gritted his teeth.

How. How?!  

How could he be envious of someone who had nothing, who was nothing of value? Or, at least that’s what Ken had at first assumed: that Hijikata Toshizo owned not a single possession worth more than the dirt he grew up in—or his peasant status he seemed to will out of existence.

Hijikata was a peasant indeed, and yet he walked with his head held high and wore attire much too expensive for his class. His voice was calm and his words steady, confidence and surety radiating from a mere farmer in a great room of samurai, of individuals of relevance and importance. But worst of all, worst of all, there was one thing that utter rube possessed which Ken no longer did and never could again.

It was obvious in Katsu-kun’s demeanor…maybe not to someone who hadn’t ever been on the receiving end of his affections, but as Ken had, he knew within an instant. The Shinsengumi commander and vice commander were involved; one, a fake samurai, and the other imagining he was one. And yet, they had the attention of Matsudaira-ko. And Hijikata had the capability, the right to put his hands all over…

Ken licked his lips, the fury within him smoldering and he let his lashes fall while fingers curled in to form tight fists.

Shimazaki Katsuta, Kondo Isami, whatever he went by… That man was supposed to live his life as the owner of a poor and failing dojo. He could wear fine clothing and boast swords at his hip from the blessing of adoption, but he was never meant to be here, in Kyoto, pulling so much weight and wielding this amount of power. And his second, who should have no freedom to hold anything but a rake in his hands…

It was maddening. Everyone had their place in the world; Ken was no exception. He was born into hatamoto status, and like his father, he would live such a lifestyle and serve the Tokugawa family to his dying breath.

“Ken…” Phantom whispers spilled over his bare neck and shoulders, invisible hands traveling up his sides and back down to cup the swell of his backside. And they were close, so unbelievably close, that they breathed the same breath and the line of individuality blurred until Ken hadn’t been sure where he stopped and where Katsu-kun began. And that, that was… "Ken, you feel so…” ...amazing.

But there always was that line, wasn’t there? Always lines and divisions and boundaries, keeping apart the kind of people who didn’t and couldn’t belong together—no matter how good and right it felt to entwine with their fingers, no matter how the heart yearned for their company, no matter how great the desire to lap up the same kisses and dream about sharing the same life. That was just how things were. It was how they always would be. And so, Ken left the slice of forbidden fruit from a forbidden paradise, for a universe with everything else he could ever want right at his fingertips.

Yet.

Yet…

Ken had become Akagi-dono. But Hijikata was Toshi in casual conversation, even at a formal dinner.

Ken’s eyes opened slowly.

How could he be so jealous?

Hijikata was like Katsu-kun. He never allowed the world to tell him what he could or couldn’t do…never had to let go of something he treasured so deeply because of societal protocol, never spent days and nights getting lost in the embraces of nameless prostitutes and wishing to fill an unfillable void.

…How could Ken be jealous? How could he not be? How could he not be infuriated?—surrounded by luxury and enveloped in prominence that commanded immediate respect, and yet the one thing he wanted most of all was unattainable. That one thing, that one person, had given himself freely to someone so unworthy, and there they were, out of place but completely in place too, making it all work seamlessly.

And it did. It worked, damn it all.

Because they hadn’t been afraid to try. Because they hadn’t been afraid of what they might lose when going up against what might be gained instead.

Ken’s fist slammed against the porch, the impact stinging his soft-skinned knuckles. He stood, adjusted his flowy attire and hair, pulled at tassels and fixed the swords he had no particular talent in handling at his hip.

He strode with purpose to a specific room of this large and empty abode passed to his ownership upon the assassination of his father. Shortly, Ken was joined by an attractive man, whose body he knew too well for someone without an inkling of his name.

Silk clothing and hair ties and embellishments and garments, they all fell like graceful ribbons and piled on the tatami about tabi-covered feet.

“Akagi-sama,” his companion breathed.

“Ken.” A purr rumbled against supple flesh of the neck. “Call me Ken.��

“Aka…gi…sama…” Fingertips flexed against his back, but never pressed hard enough to defile its immaculate skin.

And so, Ken made love to a nameless vessel, a living doll, someone who was willing to simply do his job because it was what the world told him his role was. The pay was good, there was a roof over his head, and he was the courtesan of a man all too rich and powerful with everything—his employer whom he served and would never love. They were unnerving, these similarities they shared.

When it was over, Ken stared at the ceiling, alone in a room too dark without moonlight and no stars.

“Ken,” Kondo had once whispered in their own aftermath, while holding him close. “What do you dream about?”

Ken knew even then that his answer should have been one word: you. Instead, what left his lips was a haughty, “Things a man from Tama couldn’t even imagine.”

Kondo had merely huffed, stroking his fingers through long hair, and at last relented with a grin. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Outside and away from the ravages of memory, Ken’s courtesan looked toward the sky with a pleased smile. A crescent glowing in the dark, dots of glitter sparkling abound...how bright, how beautiful this night was. It was a wonder the young master never stopped to appreciate such a view, but then again, he surely had want for nothing—not love, not companionship, not even the stars.

The courtesan wasn’t sure why he felt no envy at that moment.

[bright-and-burning]

svelte (45) for the writing game!

“Y’look… svelte,” Oscar says, gaze roaming over Lando’s body before coming to rest on her face. She has to look up, for once, Lando in her towering strappy heels finally making a difference against Oscar’s ankle boots.

Lando’s whole face crinkles up, immediately smoothing back out to avoid creasing her makeup. She’s been struggling with that since they got here, eyebrows furrowing and unfurrowing in a dance visible even from where Oscar had been watching across the room.

“This is silk, Osc.”

It is, to be fair. Draping artfully off her, drippy looking v-neck low enough to show off abs. Equally low in the back. Miles of tan skin to spend the evening distracted by, slip-sliding around under shiny fabric. Apricot colored, apparently.

Oscar much prefers the black a-line dress she’d been coaxed into. Less tape involved, certainly. Less sheen, too.

“Svelte, not felt,” Oscar says, already thinking through how to explain what svelte means when they’re interrupted by some flustered looking aide asking them to find their seats.

The presentation starts immediately, lighting for the tables going dim. Oscar pays attention. Mostly.

A flash of light out of the corner of her eye pulls her focus away from looking attentively forward; it’s towards the end, she hopes, of the first presenter’s speech.

Oscar leans over into Lando’s space, ostensibly to whisper some commentary. Half the bigwigs in the room will assume it’s mindless gossip, anyways.

Really, she’s slipping a hand high up the slit in Lando’s dress under the table. To balance, as she twists to see what Lando’s doing.

Showing results for svelte define, the top of the screen reads, recessed in the folds of the fancy tablecloth. Search instead for sfelt define.

Lando’s thigh tenses under Oscar’s grip. She turns her mouth to Oscar’s ear, lips brushing the shell under the veil of her hair.

“Think I’m elegant, huh?”

Oscar shivers. She pulls back to shoot Lando a half-hearted glare from under her fringe, straightening her face just in time for the lights to come back up.

send me a number/word and i’ll write a micro story

(outfit inspo is in a reblog if you’re interested)

[bright-and-burning]

blisteringly hot eve 😭😭😭 looking forward to reading!!

thank you dearrrrr <3 i am (much like. lando in this fic. i literally just wrote several lines abt how she'd never go for delayed gratification if oscar wasn't there forcing her to lmfao) so instant gratification oriented so i imagine it will be out Very Soon