Story cover for Loving You, Couldn't Stop by inFBwebelieve
Loving You, Couldn't Stop
  • WpView
    Reads 65,607
  • WpVote
    Votes 1,797
  • WpPart
    Parts 34
  • WpHistory
    Time 8h 8m
  • WpView
    Reads 65,607
  • WpVote
    Votes 1,797
  • WpPart
    Parts 34
  • WpHistory
    Time 8h 8m
Complete, First published May 25, 2024
Mature
Loving You, Couldn't Stop
This isn't my story converted into FreenBecky Story for the sakes of our Delulu.
All the rights & Credits go to original Author.

As soon as I got to read this story I couldn't stop imaging FreenBecky as leads. Especially character's personalities would be really suitable with FreenBecky and also like SamMon from Gap the series. But more than SamMon love Journey there will be more push & pull, slow burn & Angst in this story. And Intimate scenes between lovers and how Phi would shy whenever Nong flirt with her and how Nong would always love to Flexing about her relationship with Phi. Also theirs Possessive to each other and how they love to spoil each other are also make you couldn't help but thinking about FreenBecky as characters of this story. 

Hope you all will enjoy this story along with me,

FBPFK 
In FreenBecky We Believe
All Rights Reserved
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Coming Home! by CrazedWriter123
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Prologue The rain hammered against the apartment window as Freen stared at her phone, hands trembling. Her mother's voice still echoed in her head from the devastating call. 'Mind is gone.' Her sister-her only ally-was dead. A car accident. Gone in an instant, leaving behind ten-year-old Annie. "Freen?" Nam's voice came from behind her. "What's wrong?" "My sister..." The words came out as barely a whisper. "She's dead." Three pairs of arms surrounded her as the sobs came. Nam, Heng, and Noey-her chosen family for the past five years since she'd left home with nothing but a guitar and broken dreams. Through her grief, her mother's other words echoed: 'Annie is to be in your care. Not ours. Yours." Mind had chosen her. Even after years of separation, Mind still believed in her enough to entrust her with the most precious thing in her life. But how could she? Someone who jumped at loud noises, who had panic attacks, who could barely take care of herself-how could she care for a grieving child? "I have to go back," Freen whispered. "I have to go home." Home. The place she'd sworn never to return to. Where her father's voice still echoed, calling her worthless, saying her music was a joke. "Then we'll help you pack," Heng said simply. Freen looked at her friends-the ones who'd held her together through everything. Now she had to leave them behind to face her past. But somewhere in that hometown, a little girl was waiting. A little girl who'd lost everything, just like Freen had once lost everything. Mind had trusted her with this. The sister who'd snuck into her room to hear her practice, who'd believed in her dreams when no one else did. Maybe it was time to prove that belief hadn't been misplaced. Maybe it was time to go home.
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Freen Sarocha Chakminha didn't believe in love anymore. Not the kind that stayed. Not the kind that healed. She believed in control, in silence, in the armor she'd built from betrayal and ambition. Love was a transaction. Touch was temporary. And people-people always wanted something. Until the girl showed up at her door. Rain-soaked, trembling, eyes wide with heartbreak and hope. Rebecca Armstrong. Pregnant. Homeless. Carrying the child of Freen's brother-the same brother who vanished with her money and left chaos in his wake. Freen should have turned her away. She almost did. But something in Becky's voice-raw, unfiltered, painfully honest-cut through the walls Freen had spent years fortifying. She let her in. Not just into her house. Into her life. Into the quiet spaces she never let anyone see. And slowly, without permission, Becky began to unravel her. Not with grand gestures. But with soup and silence. With late-night study sessions and soft laughter. With the kind of love that didn't demand-but stayed. This isn't a story about perfect people. It's a story about broken ones who chose each other anyway. About fire inherited not from blood, but from survival. And how sometimes, the coldest hearts burn the brightest-when someone finally sees them.