with all the popularity around heated rivalry, iâve seen a clip of the more spicier scenes and the more i see about itâ i think how much better it would be if it were a wlw show. and in a perfect world, in my dream world, it would be with karina and winter.
i havenât watched the show but the concept of winter being on the phone with her mom and karina being to needy to waitâĶ like guys.. bear with me, okay?
winterâs voice is soft, warm around the edges, that rare tone she reserves for her mom during late-night calls. sheâs curled up on the couch, dress slipping down one shoulder, phone tucked between her cheek and shoulder as she hums and nods along âmm, yeahâĶ i saw the pictures you sent. your hair looks nice, eomma.â itâs a gentle kind of domestic, the kind youâd think would stay untouched by anything unholy. but then thereâs karina, barefoot and barely dressed, watching from across the room with a smile tugging at her lips.
she moves like silent, fluid, until sheâs kneeling between winterâs legs, spreading them with a calculated patience. winter gives her a look thatâs wide-eyed and frantic, already mouthing no with a sharp shake of her head. but karina only tilts her head, as if confused, fingers already slipping beneath the hem of her dress. her touch is featherlight and merciless. âjust keep talking,â she mouths as she kisses the inside of winterâs thigh, smug and so, so soft. winterâs breath catches. the phone nearly slips.
âe-eomma,â she says too quickly, voice suddenly pitched higher. âno, iâm listening! s-sorry, i justâdropped something.â and she tries. she really tries. tries to keep her breathing steady, her words coherent, but karina is already dragging her tongue up with a kind of reverence that makes winterâs eyes flutter shut. she has to bite her knuckle to keep still, face flushed, jaw clenched, while karina eats her out like sheâs starving, like itâs her only purpose.
and karina knows exactly what sheâs doing. sheâs relentless but quiet, lips wet and slow, fingers digging into winterâs thighs to hold her open when she starts to squirm. winterâs voice stutters mid-sentence, and her mom pausesâ asks something, concerned. winter laughs, breathless and too high-pitched, fingers gripping the edge of the cushion like it might anchor her. karina smiles against her, flicks her tongue faster, and winter whimpers, the kind of sound you canât mistake for anything else. she slaps a hand over her mouth, eyes watering.
ânonono, i-iâm fine,â she chokes out. âjust tired. long day.â her legs are shaking. karina presses two fingers inside her without warning, curling them just right. winterâs head falls back with a soft, broken gasp, and she knows she wonât last. not like this. not with karina looking up at her from between her legs like the most innocent kind of devil, mouthing cum for me, puppy, while her mom keeps talking about grocery lists and weekend plans. itâs unbearable. itâs electric. and itâs exactly how karina likes her: trembling, helpless, and trying so hard to be good.
