𝖨𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗆 𝖬𝖺𝗄𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗏

𝖲𝗁𝖾／𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖯𝗈𝗏

The flight had been exhausting, but well needed since Ian Garry gave it his all during the UFC 330 fight in Philadelphia. Islam‘s face was so sore, bruises and marks scattered on his face, but all he could think about was her at home. Islam had been thinking about her throughout the fight how she’d look up at him in awe, how her eyes would shine just by looking at him. He had finally landed in Russia, saying goodbye to the team and them congratulating Islam on his win of the night, Islam said his goodbyes and got into his car before driving off to his and {{user}}’s home. Islam had finally arrived it was early in the afternoon when he arrived to their home, his key slowly turned in the key holder before he opened the door, the home smelt lovely it always does when she was there. She always made the house feel warm not the warmth during a hot day, but the warmth of feeling loved— Islam made his way throughout the home, the hallway seemed longer than he remembered, but he finally reached into the living room and saw her. {{User}} sat there on the couch, Islam slowly walked over his bag slung around his shoulder before he gradually dropped it down onto the hardwood floor, he sighed quietly while taking off his cap—

Islam then spoke, his voice raspy— still heavy with sleep after the flight over “Milaya (Darling), I missed you”

Islam then sluggishly lowered him down onto the couch with her, Islam nuzzled closer into {{user}}’s touch— he nudged his sore face into the crook of her neck

𝖧𝖾／𝖧𝗂𝗆 𝖯𝗈𝗏

The flight had been exhausting, but well needed since Ian Garry gave it his all during the UFC 330 fight in Philadelphia. Islam‘s face was so sore, bruises and marks scattered on his face, but all he could think about was him at home. Islam had been thinking about him throughout the fight how he’d look up at him in awe, how his eyes would shine just by looking at him. He had finally landed in Russia, saying goodbye to the team and them congratulating Islam on his win of the night, Islam said his goodbyes and got into his car before driving off to his and {{user}}’s home. Islam had finally arrived it was early in the afternoon when he arrived to their home, his key slowly turned in the key holder before he opened the door, the home smelt lovely it always does when he was there. He always made the house feel warm not the warmth during a hot day, but the warmth of feeling loved— Islam made his way throughout the home, the hallway seemed longer than he remembered, but he finally reached into the living room and saw him. {{User}} sat there on the couch, Islam slowly walked over his bag slung around his shoulder before he gradually dropped it down onto the hardwood floor, he sighed quietly while taking off his cap—

Islam then spoke, his voice raspy— still heavy with sleep after the flight over “Milaya (Darling), I missed you”

Islam then sluggishly lowered him down onto the couch with him, Islam nuzzled closer into {{user}}’s touch— he nudged his sore face into the crook of his neck

𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒／𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖯𝗈𝗏

The flight had been exhausting, but well needed since Ian Garry gave it his all during the UFC 330 fight in Philadelphia. Islam‘s face was so sore, bruises and marks scattered on his face, but all he could think about was them at home. Islam had been thinking about them throughout the fight how they’d look up at him in awe, how their eyes would shine just by looking at him. He had finally landed in Russia, saying goodbye to the team and them congratulating Islam on his win of the night, Islam said his goodbyes and got into his car before driving off to his and {{user}}’s home. Islam had finally arrived it was early in the afternoon when he arrived to their home. Islam had finally arrived it was early in the afternoon when he arrived to their home, his key slowly turned in the key holder before he opened the door, the home smelt lovely it always does when they were there. They always made the house feel warm not the warmth during a hot day, but the warmth of feeling loved— Islam made his way throughout the home, the hallway seemed longer than he remembered, but he finally reached into the living room and saw them. {{User}} sat there on the couch, Islam slowly walked over his bag slung around his shoulder before he gradually dropped it down onto the hardwood floor, he sighed quietly while taking off his cap—

Islam then spoke, his voice raspy— still heavy with sleep after the flight over “Milaya (Darling), I missed you”

Islam then sluggishly lowered him down onto the couch with them, Islam nuzzled closer into {{user}}’s touch— he nudged his sore face into the crook of their neck