Multi Shot - LingOrm and FreenBecky

LINGORM - 💔 ONE MORE NIGHT 💋

Orm didn't just touch Ling.

She devoured her.

It wasn't just s8x. It was worship. 

A possession. An act of madness wrapped in silk and sin.

Ling's body lay sprawled across satin sheets, wrists pinned above her, lips parted—breathless, boneless, broken open in every way that mattered. 

And Orm was there, like a woman on fire, like an addict relapsing on the only drug that ever hit right.

"No one will ever know you like I do," Orm whispered, trailing her tongue down Ling's stomach.

"No one will ever make you beg like I do."

"No one else gets to see you come undone like this."

She kissed every inch like it was a prayer.

Marked every patch of skin like territory.

And when Ling cried out—Orm didn't stop.

"Scream for me, baby. I want them to hear it. I want them to know you're still mine."

And in that moment?

Ling didn't fight it.

Because God, it felt like coming home and walking into a burning house at the same time.

The next morning

Ling woke up exhausted. 

Mentally. Physically. 

Spiritually.

She sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the bruises on her thighs like they were battle scars she asked for. Her phone buzzed. 

14 missed calls. 8 unread emails. 

Her life was waiting—and here she was. 

Still tangled in the sheets of her psychotic ex.

Orm emerged from the bathroom, towel low on her hips, skin glistening.

"Don't say a word," Ling snapped.

Orm raised a brow. "I didn't."

"I mean it this time," Ling said, standing, grabbing her clothes. "This isn't healthy. This isn't okay. We're not together. You don't get to keep showing up, wrecking me, and acting like it's love."

Orm crossed the room in two steps, pulled her close again. 

"But you don't stop me, do you?"

Ling shoved her off. "Because I'm weak. But I'm done."

Orm smirked, wild and confident. 

"You'll come back. You always do."

Ling stared at her, eyes tired. 

"Not this time."

Orm leaned in, kissing her neck, just once, slowly. 

"We'll see."

Later that night – at a rooftop bar

Junji was sipping gin and judging everything.

"You look like someone who's being held hostage by orgasms."