Burn Me Love Me
Part 1: The Fire Beneath the Surface
Ling hated mornings.
Not because of the hour—she was used to waking before the sun. But because Orm was always there, already seated at the long glass conference table, a mug of black coffee in one hand and a smug smirk curled on her lips.
"I beat you again," Orm said, not looking up from her tablet. Her dark red nails tapped against the screen, elegant and infuriating. "That's six for six this week."
Ling's jaw clenched. Her boots clicked across the polished floor as she dropped her laptop bag on the table and sat across from her.
"I was stuck in traffic," Ling lied.
Orm tilted her head, eyes cold. "Excuses. You know I don't count those."
Ling smirked then, slow and sharp. "Then I won't count the fact that I outperformed your division this quarter."
Orm looked up, her gaze narrowing.
Touché.
That was the rhythm of them—sharp words, pointed smiles, a dance just short of a brawl. Every department head in the firm whispered about their rivalry. Some said it was sexual tension. Others just prayed the two wouldn't burn the building down in a fit of mutual sabotage.
They were both top-level executives at Virex, a global tech empire. Ling led innovation. Orm handled strategy. They were meant to collaborate—but more often, they collided.
And yet... every project that forced them together brought record-breaking results.
---
That afternoon, the boardroom heated with tension that had nothing to do with the broken AC.
Ling stood by the digital display, scrolling through projections. "This expansion into Eastern markets is overdue. We're already trailing behind two competitors."
Orm folded her arms from the far end of the room. "Not if you consider cultural alignment. You're rushing the launch without refining localization. It's arrogant."
"I'm efficient," Ling shot back. "You're just afraid of taking a risk."
Orm's lips curled, slow and dangerous. "Or maybe I'm the only one who gives a damn about doing it right."
They stared at each other across the room, chests rising.
The others in the room—interns, junior leads, even the COO—found reasons to leave.
Only the two of them remained.
"You hate me that much, huh?" Ling asked softly.
Orm blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone.
Ling stepped closer, her low voice steady. "You look at me like you want to gut me. But sometimes I wonder if you just want to get under me instead."
Orm's cheeks flushed, but she didn't flinch.
"That's rich," she said, voice tight. "Coming from the woman who fucks her own reflection more than anyone else."
Ling chuckled darkly. "I've never needed anyone else."
Their eyes locked.
Seconds passed.
Orm stepped forward. "Then why do you keep picking fights with me, Ling? You could ignore me. But you never do."
Silence.
Then Ling replied, voice rough, "Because you're the only one who ever hits back."
Their breath tangled between them. The air charged like a live wire.
---
That night, Ling stayed late.
She told herself it was to revise the presentation. But her focus frayed the moment she heard the click of heels in the hall.
Orm entered without knocking, holding two coffee cups.
"I figured you'd still be here," she said, placing one in front of Ling. "You always pretend to be too cool to care, but you grind harder than anyone else."
Ling stared at her. "Bringing me offerings now?"
Orm rolled her eyes. "Don't flatter yourself. I brought it in case I spilled mine."
She didn't spill it. But she did sit on the edge of the desk beside Ling, crossing her legs, her skirt riding up just enough to pull Ling's eyes downward.
"Tell me something," Orm said, voice low. "Do you actually hate me?"
Ling looked up.
And for once, she didn't have a sharp answer ready.
"I don't know what I feel when I look at you," Ling admitted. "But it's loud. It doesn't shut up."
Orm's hand twitched against the desk. "Same."
Their eyes met again—and this time, neither looked away.
The air trembled.
"Say it," Ling murmured.
Orm leaned in, her voice like a whisper and a warning. "I want you."
The desk chair scraped back. Ling rose. Their lips collided.
And nothing was the same after that.
Part 2: The Night That Broke the Dam🔞
The kiss was war.
Ling's hands gripped Orm's waist like she was trying to keep her from vanishing. Orm's fingers tangled in Ling's collar, dragging her closer, crashing lips and teeth and heat. Nothing about it was gentle—years of rivalry twisted into something hungry and raw, no space for hesitation.
The storm outside clapped like it agreed.
Orm pulled back just long enough to whisper, "Shut the door."
Ling did—slamming it with one palm, locking it with the other, before Orm yanked her forward again.
Their lips collided. Again. Again. Ling groaned into the kiss when Orm bit her lower lip hard enough to sting.
"Is that how it is?" Ling growled, sliding her hands down Orm's hips, pressing her back onto the desk.
Orm smirked. "Show me, boss girl."
Ling kissed her harder—possessive, relentless. She shoved Orm's blazer off, then peeled open each button of her blouse, exposing lace, pale skin, the slight tremble in Orm's chest as her breathing hitched.
"You're shaking," Ling murmured, lips brushing Orm's collarbone.
Orm arched against her. "Not from fear."
Ling dropped to her knees like a storm breaking.
She slid Orm's skirt up slowly, dragging her thumbs along toned thighs. Orm gasped as Ling leaned in, mouthing hot kisses along the inside of her leg.
"You're soaked," Ling muttered with a grin. "Been hating me that hard?"
Orm pulled Ling up roughly. "Get up here. I'm done waiting."
Their mouths crashed again, their bodies tangling like live wires. Ling lifted Orm easily onto the desk, laying her down as papers scattered beneath her.
Orm unzipped Ling's slacks and shoved her hand inside. She hissed when her fingers found exactly what she craved—thick, hard, hot.
"You've been walking around like this every time we fought?" Orm whispered, stroking her.
Ling cursed under her breath, grinding into her palm. "You make me lose control."
"Then lose it."
Ling yanked Orm's panties aside and thrust in hard, deep, without apology.
Orm cried out, her back arching off the desk.
"Fuck—Ling!"
"I got you," Ling whispered roughly, hips slamming forward again, deeper.
Orm moaned louder, thighs clenching around Ling's hips. The sounds of skin, breath, and desperation echoed through the room. Ling thrust faster, harder, leaning over her until their foreheads touched.
"Take it," she whispered. "Take all of me."
Orm grabbed the back of Ling's neck and kissed her like she needed it to breathe. Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm—one rough, one gasping, both lost in something that had waited too long.
"I'm gonna—Ling—oh—"
"Let go," Ling growled.
Orm came with a cry, shaking beneath her, legs wrapped around Ling's waist.
But Ling didn't stop.
She kept moving. Kept grinding, pounding, deeper, harder, until Orm's moans turned to gasps and her nails dug red lines into Ling's shoulders.
"More," Orm whispered, dazed. "I want it again."
"You'll get everything," Ling said.
She pulled out only long enough to flip Orm over onto her stomach, dragging her hips to the edge of the desk.
Orm panted, flushed and wild. "You're insatiable."
"You're irresistible," Ling rasped, thrusting back in deep.
Orm screamed.
Ling held her hips and drove into her, the desk creaking with every thrust. Her eyes fixed on the place where they were joined—where her cock disappeared into Orm's soaked heat, again and again, slick and obscene and perfect.
Orm begged. Moaned. Shook.
"Don't stop, don't—fuck—Ling—!"
Ling didn't. Not until Orm came again, sobbing out her name.
Only then did Ling let herself go, hips stuttering, breath choking out a curse as she spilled deep inside Orm, warmth flooding her in waves.
They collapsed together onto the floor beside the desk.
Sweaty. Shaking. Still tangled.
Silence.
Thunder rolled in the distance. The storm outside had passed.
---
Ling propped herself on one elbow, watching Orm trace lazy fingers along her chest.
"This doesn't mean I like you," Orm murmured.
Ling smirked. "You liked something."
Orm flushed and smacked her lightly.
But she didn't move away.
And when she fell asleep in Ling's arms, her fingers still curled against her skin, Ling couldn't bring herself to let go.
Not now.
Not ever.
Part 3: The Fallout and the Flame
Orm didn't come in the next morning.
Or the next.
Ling wasn't worried at first. Not outwardly. Not visibly. But after the third day passed and Orm continued to ghost her—no texts, no sarcastic banter, no coffee slammed on the table—Ling started to unravel.
She opened their presentation notes. Orm had cleared her contributions.
She went to her office. Locked.
She sent a message:
> Running away doesn't suit you, Orm.
No reply.
The silence felt like a vacuum. Ling hated it. Hated that she missed the sound of Orm's voice, even when it was barbed.
Especially when it was barbed.
Ling clenched her jaw and shut her laptop.
She had never chased anyone before. But Orm wasn't just anyone anymore.
---
Orm sat cross-legged on her bathroom floor, staring at the pregnancy test.
She didn't cry. She didn't speak. She didn't move.
Two pink lines.
Two.
Her body felt far away, as if it didn't belong to her anymore. Her brain scrambled for logic—science, biology, denial. But her hands trembled and her stomach churned in steady waves of nausea.
She thought of Ling. Of the way her voice softened when she said, I got you.
Of the way she'd filled her completely, again and again, no protection, no pause.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
It was one night. One incredible, unforgivable, unforgettable night.
And now—
She touched her stomach.
She was pregnant.
---
Ling found out through HR.
A weekly performance health report, confidential and poorly redacted, had accidentally left visible a flagged note:
> Employee Orm Tanaka — confirmed early pregnancy. Family medical plan updated.
Ling's breath left her.
She read it again. And again.
Orm.
Pregnant.
Orm hadn't told her. Hadn't come to her. Hadn't even looked her in the eye since that night.
Something inside Ling cracked.
She left the meeting room mid-sentence and drove straight to Orm's apartment.
---
Orm flinched when the knock came. Not a soft one. Loud. Demanding.
Ling.
She considered not answering. But something in her heart ached at the thought of walking away again.
She opened the door slowly.
Ling looked furious.
Orm swallowed. "How did you—?"
"Don't insult me," Ling snapped. "You could've told me."
Orm looked down. "I didn't know how."
Ling stepped inside without waiting. Her presence filled the room like a storm.
Orm's arms folded across her stomach instinctively.
"You're really pregnant," Ling whispered, eyes scanning her. "It's mine."
Orm nodded.
Ling's breath trembled. "And you weren't going to tell me?"
"I was scared."
"Of me?"
Orm's voice broke. "Of wanting this too much."
Silence stretched.
Then Ling crossed the space between them and cupped Orm's cheek.
"You think I wouldn't want this?" Ling whispered. "That I'd run? After what we shared?"
Orm's eyes welled. "You said you never needed anyone. I thought... maybe I was just a release."
Ling flinched like she'd been slapped.
"No," she said, voice hoarse. "You've always gotten under my skin. And now you're under my heart. I don't want to pretend anymore."
Orm's chin trembled. "I don't either."
Ling dropped to her knees, hands on Orm's hips, forehead pressed to her belly. "Let me be in this with you. Whatever it takes."
Orm ran her fingers through Ling's dark hair and whispered, "Okay."
---
That night, they lay in bed. No rivalry. No hate.
Just silence. Breath. Warmth.
"Did you ever imagine us ending up here?" Orm asked quietly.
Ling traced lazy fingers over her hip. "No. I always thought we'd burn each other down."
Orm smiled faintly. "Maybe we still will."
Ling kissed her neck. "As long as we burn together."
Orm looked at her. "Ling?"
"Yeah?"
"I want you. All of you. Even when it's messy."
Ling leaned in, brushed her lips along Orm's collarbone, and whispered, "Then I'm yours."
Part 4: Learning to Love Loudly🔞
"Move in with me."
Ling's voice was quiet, but steady. Her fingers brushed over the gentle swell of Orm's belly as they lay tangled beneath soft sheets, morning light filtering across their skin.
Orm blinked. "You sure you want to wake up to this face every day?"
Ling rolled over, pinning her with a look that was equal parts fierce and soft. "I want to wake up to you. Especially now. Especially with..." She slid her palm fully over Orm's stomach. "...her."
Orm laughed. "You're assuming it's a girl?"
"Call it intuition." Ling leaned down and kissed her slowly, possessively.
Orm kissed back, her hands sliding along Ling's bare waist. "I'll move in. But only if you promise one thing."
"Anything."
Orm's eyes darkened, playful and full of want. "Don't stop touching me. Ever."
Ling smirked, rolling her hips into Orm's. "Deal."
---
Their days fell into a rhythm.
Ling would wake early, kiss Orm's forehead, and bring her breakfast before meetings. Orm would pretend she wasn't spoiled and complain—only to melt every time Ling kissed her swollen belly before leaving.
And at night, when the lights dimmed and the city hushed, Ling came home to her favorite sound: Orm moaning her name.
---
Tonight, Orm didn't wait.
The moment Ling stepped into the bedroom, Orm stood there in nothing but one of Ling's button-down shirts—barely buttoned, her pregnant belly visible beneath the hem, her thighs exposed.
Ling dropped her bag.
"Fuck."
Orm smiled sweetly. "Missed me?"
Ling crossed the room in seconds, hands already roaming, lips crashing against hers. "You look like a sin I never want to confess."
Orm gasped as Ling slid her hand between her legs. "Then stop teasing and commit the crime already."
They fell onto the bed, mouths greedy, hands everywhere. Ling pushed the shirt off her shoulders, taking in the sight of Orm—glowing, full, beautiful.
"You're so... fuck," Ling whispered. "You're everything."
Orm reached down and tugged at Ling's waistband. "Then stop talking and take everything."
Ling kissed her like she meant to mark her. Her fingers slipped down and spread Orm open, finding her already wet.
"Always this ready for me?" Ling whispered.
"Always," Orm moaned. "You ruined me."
Ling slid her thick, hard cock into her slowly—deeper than ever, the angle perfect with Orm on her side, leg draped over Ling's hip. Orm gasped as she was filled, stretched around her, body clutching tightly.
"Ling—God—yes—"
Ling thrust slowly at first, rolling her hips with purpose. She cupped Orm's face as she moved, kissing her, whispering, "You're mine. You and our baby. Mine."
Orm whimpered. "Harder, please—don't hold back—"
Ling obeyed.
She drove into her deeply, steadily, until Orm was moaning with every thrust. Ling's hand slipped down to rub soft circles over her clit, making her writhe.
"I love you like this," Ling murmured. "Full of me. So fucking perfect."
Orm shattered—clenching hard around her as she came, crying out Ling's name.
But Ling didn't stop.
She flipped Orm carefully onto her hands and knees, one hand gripping her hip, the other braced beside her.
Orm looked over her shoulder, flushed and trembling. "You're obsessed with me."
Ling leaned down, breath hot against her ear. "Only with ruining you for anyone else."
Then she slammed back in.
Orm screamed.
The room filled with the sounds of skin, breath, wetness, heat. Ling was relentless, fucking her with raw, rhythmic power, filling her again and again until Orm was shaking, her legs barely holding her up.
"I'm gonna—Ling—oh fuck, again—"
"Cum," Ling growled. "Cum for me, love."
Orm came with a sob, her body trembling under the weight of it. And when Ling followed moments later, her cock pulsing deep inside, filling her with heat, she collapsed on top of her, heart racing.
They stayed that way—sweaty, breathless, holding each other in the aftermath.
"I want more," Orm whispered sleepily.
"More?" Ling chuckled. "You're literally carrying my child."
Orm smiled wickedly. "I meant more of you."
Ling kissed her temple. "You'll never go without."
---
Later, curled up beneath the blankets, Orm whispered, "You think we're ready for this?"
Ling kissed her swollen belly. "We'll figure it out."
Orm laughed. "We're going to be terrible at swaddling."
"I'll YouTube it."
"You can't even fold a fitted sheet."
"We'll pay someone."
Orm snorted, then went quiet.
"...What if I mess up?" she whispered.
Ling pulled her close. "Then I'll be right there, messing up with you."
Orm buried her face into Ling's chest.
For the first time in her life, she wasn't afraid of vulnerability.
She was loved.
She was safe.
She was theirs.
Part 5: Our Rivals, Our Roots
Orm's screams echoed through the hospital hallway.
Ling paced just outside the delivery room, fists clenched, her jacket discarded hours ago, hair messy from running both her hands and the past nine months through it. She'd threatened three nurses for making her wait.
"Let me in—she needs me—"
The midwife had gently but firmly replied, "She's in good hands. You'll be called in once it's time."
Ling had nearly kicked a hole in the vending machine. Orm was in there. Giving birth. Alone.
The thought twisted something primal in her chest.
But then—
A nurse peeked out, smiling. "She's asking for you. Now."
Ling bolted inside.
---
Orm looked like hell.
Hair plastered to her forehead, sweat beading down her temples, her legs shaking in the stirrups.
But to Ling, she was radiant.
"I fucking hate you," Orm panted.
Ling rushed to her side. "I know. You can yell at me later."
Orm crushed Ling's fingers in hers.
"I mean it. I hate you so much. This is all your fault."
Ling kissed her damp cheek. "And you're going to be amazing."
The doctor gave the cue.
Orm pushed.
And screamed.
And cried.
And then—
The sound.
A high-pitched wail filled the room. Then another. Two cries. Two perfect, tiny, furious voices.
"Twins?" Ling gasped. "You told me it was one!"
Orm sobbed. "You deserved the surprise."
Ling stared as two squirming, pink bundles were placed on Orm's chest. One with a head full of dark hair. The other bald and red-faced.
Orm cried harder.
And so did Ling.
They clung to each other, surrounded by life, warmth, and the weight of a love that had outlasted everything.
---
Three months later, Ling was a mess—and in love.
Every morning started with a bottle in one hand, a baby on her hip, and a diaper explosion five minutes before an important Zoom meeting. Her button-downs now had spit-up as an accessory. Her once-pristine desk was covered in pacifiers, breast pumps, and burp cloths.
She loved every second.
Orm, exhausted but glowing, sang lullabies in the kitchen, swaying with one baby while the other slept on her chest. Ling often just stood and watched her, heart aching in that soft, unbearable way that meant she had everything she ever wanted.
They named the girls Emi and Aya.
Emi was quiet. Curious. Always staring wide-eyed at the world.
Aya was loud. Fussy. Already a tiny firecracker.
Ling said they were just like their mothers.
Orm had grinned. "Emi's me. Aya's definitely you."
Ling had scooped her up and kissed her hard.
---
One lazy afternoon, the girls napped on a blanket in the sun, and Orm lay in Ling's lap on the couch, her head tilted back, eyes closed.
Ling played with her hair, whispering, "Marry me."
Orm's eyes fluttered open. "What?"
Ling looked down, heart pounding.
"Marry me. I want this. You. Our girls. Forever."
Orm blinked. Then smiled softly.
"You're asking me while I haven't showered in three days, haven't shaved, and smell like breast milk."
Ling leaned down and kissed her gently. "You've never been hotter."
Orm laughed, voice thick with emotion. "Then yes."
Ling's hands shook as she held her.
"Promise me we'll still fight," Orm whispered. "Still challenge each other."
Ling smirked. "Baby, I'll never stop calling you out."
"Good," Orm murmured. "But this time, we'll fight for each other."
---
One year later, under a white arch of lilies and sunflowers, Orm walked down the aisle holding Emi's tiny hand while Ling held Aya.
Vows were whispered.
Tears were shed.
And when they kissed, their daughters clapped and giggled in their frilly dresses.
That night, as the stars stretched over their quiet home, Ling whispered into Orm's ear—
"Ready for baby number three?"
Orm laughed. "You just want another excuse to wreck me in bed."
Ling nipped at her neck. "You don't need excuses."
Orm's eyes sparkled. "Then take me."
And she did.
---
Ending Scene:
Ling stood in the nursery doorway, arms crossed, smile soft.
Orm sat on the floor, Emi curled up in her lap, Aya clinging to her shirt and babbling nonsense.
"I used to want to beat you," Ling whispered.
Orm looked up.
Ling stepped forward and knelt, cupping her cheek. "Now I just want to love you for the rest of my life."
Orm leaned in and kissed her, slow and full. "Then love me. Loudly."
"I will."
They stayed that way—entwined by love, laughter, and two tiny girls who would never have to question what love looked like.
Author's Note
Thank you for reading Burn Me, Love Me! This one-shot was born from the idea that sometimes the person who drives you the craziest is the one who holds your heart. Ling and Orm went from enemies to lovers to moms — and I loved every chaotic, fiery step of their journey.
If you enjoyed the spice, the softness, and the surprise twins, feel free to comment or share! ❤️
– LadyEtros
