#thank you for prompting me nick 🥰😌🥰 it's very much appreciated

[jaggededges123]

for filthy friday prompts: would you be okay with sensory depravation + corona/ianthe from tlt?

some tridentariicest to kick off my slutty saturday let's go 😌

Trusting someone entirely was always a big trope in romance novels, songs, even asinine conversations with people who have a little too much confidence in themselves and not enough genuine tact. But for Coronabeth Tridentarius, trusting someone utterly was easier than breathing--one specific someone.

It was easier than seeing, even.

Corona was presently laid out flat on their bed, the one she had always shared with Ianthe, sweaty and exhausted. Ianthe practically built her body as it was, primping and shaping her flesh as though she were Ianthe's personal living mannequin, and so she knew exactly how far she could push before Corona practically fell apart. It was pretty damn far, if Corona was honest.

Corona trusted Ianthe though with her body, and more than that she craved enticing her sister, flirting in front of her so she might snap and drag Corona into a little-used alcove and fuck Corona so hard she'd see stars or otherwise flaunting herself just to prove that Ianthe was still hers the way she was always Ianthe's. There hadn't been a proper party on Ida in months, though, only stuffy soirees with dignitaries from the other Houses who were in the generation older than them, and no one their own age to entertain.

It was frighteningly boring. Corona was afraid that her brain might melt out of her ears.

This though--strapping herself to their bed, blindfolding herself so that Ianthe could do whatever she pleased even if she playfully mocked Corona while doing it--this had been a good idea.

Corona was fully on board with being sucked and fucked and hearing Ianthe's laughter and an again already, baby? you just came while she did things no one would be able to resist. Everything was more intense without being able to see, when she didn't know where exactly Ianthe's thin hands would touch next, whether they would crook inside her or squeeze one abundant tit or the other, slide down the side of her ribcage or pinch at the generous flesh of her thigh just to hear her squeal.

Ianthe's attention was all on Corona, and for Corona right now, Ianthe was the only thing in the entire universe.

But after her tenth orgasm or so, Ianthe moved away, and Corona had no idea where she had gone. The blood still rushing through her ears masked any sound her sister might have made, and she couldn't exactly feel around for her because Ianthe had laughed at her shoddy attempt at self-restraint and strapped her hands properly to the headboard.

"Ianthe?" she asked, because she could do nothing. Nothing but lie there and drip into the sheets, melting apart.

"Here. Time to pay all that pleasure back, pet," Ianthe said, suddenly close as she settled her knees on each side of Corona's head, somehow winding her thin, cool legs in with Corona's arms so that nothing pinched or hurt, to the tune of Corona's exhausted, but still eager moans. "What? You didn't think it would all be for free, did you? Open your mouth."

Corona giggled, glad that Ianthe had come to take her fill as well. It never felt as good when it was just Ianthe making Corona come all over herself, like it was a chore. "You're desperate for it, huh?"

"It's equivalent exchange," Ianthe murmured, sighing that big sigh that meant she didn't quite know what to do with Corona. It was a frequent sound, from Corona's incorrigible boredom during their shared (useless) necromancy lectures, to Corona's natural encouragement of any sort of attention that came her way.

This time, it was because Corona was already eating Ianthe like her life depended on it, because she could perceive nothing in the world except for her twin sister.

Corona adored it.