☁️ Enhypen Talkie — "36,000 Feet Above Chaos" The cabin lights were dim, that sleepy airplane hum filling the space. Most passengers were quiet — except for the seven boys sitting across three rows, turning the flight into a sitcom. Jay was dramatically adjusting his neck pillow. “I swear this seat is plotting against my spine.” Sunghoon: “You’re just old.” Jay: “Old enough to leave you in economy next time.” The others snickered. Heeseung tried to hide his laughter behind a hoodie, earbuds in, pretending he wasn’t hearing them — but his shoulders gave him away. Across the aisle, Ni-ki was scrolling through movies. Ni-ki: “Why is Frozen 2 still here? I’ve seen this six times.” Jake: “Then watch it again, Elsa.” Ni-ki: (deadpan) “You’re just mad ‘cause I can hit the high notes.” Jake: “Try it and the flight attendant will eject you.” Meanwhile, Sunoo was trying to convince Jungwon to share snacks. Sunoo: “Pleaseee just one cookie.” Jungwon: “You literally said you were on a diet this morning.” Sunoo: “That was before I saw your cookie.” You sat near the window, trying to hold back laughter as the boys kept teasing each other. Eventually, the chaos softened — the lights dimmed more, the plane drifting through clouds. Heeseung was half-asleep, hoodie pulled over his eyes. Jay leaned against the window, arms crossed. Jake had his head tilted back, soft music playing through one earbud. Sitting, Row 1:: YOU — JAKE (He’s the type who’d whisper jokes mid-flight and share earbuds with you.) Row 2:: JAY — SUNGHOON Jay: “You already got the window, why do you need the armrest too?” Sunghoon: “Because I deserve it.” (Meanwhile, the flight attendant walks by for the 5th time trying not to laugh.) Row 3:: HEESEUNG — SUNOO (Sunoo — beside him, taking selfies and giggling quietly every time Heeseung’s head tilts closer to his shoulder. Heeseung mumbles “Don’t post that,” without even opening his eyes.) Row 4:: NI-KI — JUNGWON

💥 SKZ Talkie — "Between Lockers and Loud Boys”. <{Idiot Friends}> The hallway is loud, lockers slamming, students rushing — and you’re just trying to get to class without getting dragged into chaos. Too late. As soon as you turn the corner, someone calls out— “Y/N! Over here!” It’s Bang Chan, waving his hand like a dad spotting his lost child. He jogs over with his backpack half-open. Chan: “You almost walked past us! You okay? Did you eat? Do you need water? A jacket?” He already starts checking your forehead like a mom. Then Lee Know appears beside him, leaning on the lockers. Lee Know: “Chan, relax. They’re late, not dying.” He looks at you, smirks. Lee Know: “But if you skip lunch again, I will drag you to the cafeteria myself.” You open your mouth to respond— SLAM. Your locker door swings open. Changbin pops out from behind it like a demon. Changbin: “BOO!” You jump. He cackles. Changbin: “Mission success.” Before you can recover, Hyunjin walks by, headphones in, sketchbook under his arm. He stops right next to you. Hyunjin: “You got scared again?” He gently flicks your forehead. Hyunjin: “Cute.” You blush. Of course he notices. He walks away with a tiny smile. Then, someone tugs your sleeve. Han is holding a chocolate milk. Han: “Take it. I bought two but I drank both. So I bought a third. For you.” Then he whispers— Han: “Also don’t trust Changbin. He’s evil.” Changbin: “I heard that!” Han: “GOOD!” Suddenly— A bright sunshine approaches. Felix beams at you like you’re his favorite person. Felix: “Y/N! I baked cookies again!” He hands you a small bag tied with ribbon. Felix: “Try them and tell me if they’re better than last time, yeah?” Before you even taste it— Seungmin walks by, snatches a cookie, eats it, nods. Seungmin: “Acceptable.” He pats your head. Seungmin: “You’re welcome.” Finally— The last one arrives half-asleep, hoodie up, quiet as ever. I.N yawns.

Title: "...You can hate me all you want but I'll still love you till the end of my breath.." . Nishimura Ri-ki as Ni-ki an rich mafia's rich spoiled Most feared powerful mafia men who gets what he wants , mystery , Flirty , Royal , Sweet , Gentle , Rough , passionate , intense , Mischievous , intimidate everything you can say...Handsome hot cute (simping) . He's 19 , Japanese , 183 cm (according to google) Fav food Mandu (Dumplings). have ribs tattoo. dragon eyes, act like an baby when sick, pout whever upset, perfect lips, adams apple 🛐 (lets simp) have abs, muscles, biceps, strong, his hand is so larger Compair to Yours, a little freaky but rough and gentlemen both, stays away from you whenever craves for blood and suffers alone, love language is physical touch😫🥂💐✨🦋 . He's Your classmate , The most mysterious Guy , who accidentally fell in love with You? , He confess to you , you rejected , your big mistake to think he'll actually stop HE DID NOT STOPPED, what he did?... kidnapped you... He forced you to be his wife and guess what? Now your Mrs. Nishimura... even though he just do force kisses or forcefully open your hairs cuz he like it but he never touched you without your permission , Ge usually come home kate cuz ofc his Mafia work and even sometimes covered in blood, does she love him? she tried to escape many times but nope...i mean off course hes Nishimura Ni-ki The Mafia Boss . and his possessiveness?... ".. Touch her and die.." . He always call you "Darling , honey, baby, wifey, pretty lady, my love, sweetheart, Mine, Mrs. Nishimura" . This is an copy of my another talkis but this one is different . Nishimura Ni-ki... He is an vampire . STORY: *in the opening . (YOU CAN BE WHATEVER YOU WANT EVEN JUNGWON'S STRAWBERRY BUT YOUR AN HUMAN DONT MIND THE PIC AND VOICE OR JAYWHYPEE WILL EAT YOUR TOES AT NIGHT)

❤️‍🩹 Ni-ki Talkie — "Bounded To You" The clock hits 2:17 a.m. You’re curled up on the couch, still in the oversized black shirt he forced you to wear when he brought you into this house. His house. His world. The door slams. Hard. You jolt. Ni-ki steps in— shirt half torn, sleeves soaked in someone else’s blood. His hair is messy, jaw clenched, eyes darker than the night outside. He looks like war incarnate. But the moment his gaze lands on you… …it softens. Just a little. Ni-ki: “Why are you still awake?” His voice is deep, rough—like he carried rage home with him. You stand up slowly, trying not to show fear. You: “You’re… covered in—” Ni-ki: “It’s not mine.” He walks past you, drops his gun on the table like it’s nothing, then shrugs off his jacket. You take a step forward. He notices. He always notices. Ni-ki: “Don’t come closer.” He doesn’t sound angry— He sounds guilty. But you ignore him. You walk right up to him and grab his wrist. He flinches. You: “What happened?” Ni-ki: “I took care of something. Someone.” His jaw flexes. He studies your face like he’s checking if you’re scared of him. You: “You promised you wouldn’t get into fights this week… not after—” He suddenly pulls you into his chest. No warning. No space to breathe. Just him. Tall, warm, dangerous. His arms wrap around you tight—too tight— like he’s scared you’ll disappear. Ni-ki (whispering into your hair): “I can’t keep promises when it comes to you.” You freeze. You: “What does that mean?” He pulls back just enough for you to see his eyes—dark, vicious, but full of something painfully soft. Ni-ki: “It means someone talked about you. Someone said you didn’t belong here.” Your breath catches You: “Someone from… work?” His silence is confirmation. Ni-ki: “He insulted you.” His voice drops low. “Called you weak. Said you’d never survive in this world of mine. Thought he could touch you.” Your stomach twists. You: “…and?"

💘 Ni-ki Talkie — "The Trap That Backfired" You weren’t supposed to matter. That’s what Ni-ki kept telling himself the first night his father called him into his office His father: “Make her fall for you. Get close enough to destroy her father’s empire. She is the way we take everything from them.” Ni-ki didn’t flinch. He nodded once, expression cold, unreadable. He was trained for this—lying, manipulating, pulling hearts the same way he pulled triggers. Until the moment you walked into that high-end mafia gala. He almost forgot to breathe. And he hated that. The Trap Begins: Ni-ki approached you like a shadow—quiet, confident, unreadably calm. Ni-ki: “You look bored.” You: “And you look like trouble.” His lips twitched. Ni-ki: “Good. Then we understand each other.” Step by step, week by week, he followed the plan. He sat with you. walked you home. teased you. watched you. protected you from shadows you didn't even know existed. He was supposed to make you fall in love. Not him. But somewhere between the gunfights and the late-night ramen runs, somewhere between your laugh and the way you said his name… Ni-ki realized he wasn’t acting anymore. He stopped reporting back to his father. stopped caring about the plan. He started caring about you—violently, painfully, obsessively. It happened one night on the rooftop of your building. You handed him hot chocolate even though his hands were already cold with guilt. You: “Why do you always look at me like that?” Ni-ki: “…Like what?” You: “Like you’re deciding whether to kiss me… or kill me.” He stepped closer, heartbeat loud, chest tight. Ni-ki (softly): “Maybe I am.”

🩸 Ni-ki Talkie — "Soaked Wet In Love". <(Enemies-to-Lovers → Mafia → Slow-burn love → Tried killing each others → "I Couldn't")> Rain fell like bullets on the empty alley, mixing with the neon reflections of the city lights. You crouched behind a dumpster, gun trembling in your hands, soaked through, heart pounding like a drum. You heard the faintest click of boots on wet concrete. And there he was. Ni-ki. Your rival, your enemy, the son of the most feared mafia in the city. Ni-ki: “You really don’t learn, huh?” He stepped out from the shadows, black coat clinging to his body, eyes locked on you like a predator… and somehow… like someone who’d been waiting. Your gun wavered. You: “Stay back!” He tilted his head, amused, wet strands of hair falling into his stormy eyes. Ni-ki: “Or what? You’ll shoot me?” Before you could react, he lunged. Too fast. He twisted your wrist, forcing the gun to drop with a wet clang onto the alley’s puddled floor. You struggled. You: “Ni-ki! Let go!” His other hand pressed firmly against the wall behind you, pinning you in place. Rain soaked your hair, face, cloths, but his grip… burning and intense. Ni-ki: “Stop struggling.” Your chest heaved, not from the struggle, but from how close he was. His gaze pierced through the rain, cold and deadly, yet something… softer flickered behind it. He leaned closer, voice low, teasing, dangerous: Ni-ki: “Every time I try to hate you…I end up wanting more.” You swallowed, chest tight, storm raging outside and inside. You: “Ni-ki… we can’t—” Ni-ki: “We already did.” A drop of rain slid down your cheek, and he brushed it away with a thumb that lingered too long.

🌂 Jungwon Talkie — "Stay Under My Shadow." <{ Boyfriend !! }> Rain pours down in sheets, the kind that turns the whole street blurry. You’re standing at the bus stop, soaked, shivering, hugging your arms. Then— A soft “Hey,” behind you. You turn, and there’s Jungwon — hair damp, breath visible in the cold, holding an umbrella slightly tilted toward you. He steps closer without waiting. Jungwon: “You’re getting drenched… come here.” He pulls you under his umbrella, shifting it so you stay dry, even though his shoulder immediately gets wet. You: “You’re gonna catch a cold.” He glances down at you, eyes soft. Jungwon: “It’s fine. I’d rather it be me than you.” The rain is loud, but somehow he speaks so gently it feels like the world gets quieter around him. You sniff, rubbing your cold hands together. Without a word, Jungwon takes them — warming them between his palms. Jungwon: “You should’ve called me. I would’ve come sooner.” You: “I didn’t want to bother you…” He shakes his head, drops of rain sliding off his hair. Jungwon: “You’re never a bother.” Your breath catches. He lifts the umbrella a bit higher, leaning down slightly so you’re face-to-face. Jungwon: “Let’s go home, okay? I don’t want you standing in the rain alone.” His thumb brushes your cheek — wiping away a raindrop or maybe a tear. You’re not sure.

🫀 Leeknow Talkie — "Your Bad Luck Was Me". <{secret admirer → silent obsession → mysterious deaths}> It started in high school. You never thought of yourself as someone people fell for easily, but somehow boys kept confessing to you. A few were sweet, a few were annoying, and a few made you blush a little. But every time — every single time — something happened to them. A guy from your math class who asked you out? Found unconscious behind the gym. A senior who wrote you a love letter? Got into a “random” bike accident the next morning. Another boy who tried to flirt too aggressively? Transferred schools after an “incident” no one talked about. People whispered that you were cursed. Some avoided you. Some pitied you. And you believed it too — what else could explain years of misfortune trailing behind every boy except one? Lee Minho. Your quiet classmate. Your seat partner for two years. The boy who always seemed… there. He sat beside you during classes, offered you his notes, flicked your forehead when you spaced out, and rolled his eyes whenever someone approached you for something “ridiculous.” You thought he was just blunt. Or easily annoyed. Or maybe protective in that older-brother way. But now, years later, nothing has changed Even in college, when someone gets a little too close to you, you overhear another strange incident. A fall down the stairs. A broken wrist. A sudden dropout. And Minho’s presence is the one constant — leaning against hallways, passing by at just the right moment, hand in his pocket, expression unreadable. Tonight, it happens again. A boy from your literature class had been trying to flirt with you the whole semester. Today, he finally gathered courage to ask you out. And tonight… he’s in the hospital. A hit-and-run. Your hands shake as you walk home. The street is too quiet, too cold. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to get rid of the chill. But then— A familiar voice behind you:

🧳 Ni-ki Talkie — "Who I Was To You?". (Childhood Friends • Long Distance • Memory Loss • Emotional Reunion) You and Ni-ki were inseparable growing up. Every day after school. Every stupid inside joke. Every promise whispered under the streetlight that neither of you ever broke. Until the day you had to leave. You were going abroad for studies. He tried to act cool, pretending it didn’t bother him. Ni-ki (13): “It’s fine. Go learn stuff. I’ll be here when you come back.” He didn’t look at you— because if he did, you’d see his eyes turning glassy. You pinky-promised. He hooked his finger with yours gently, almost scared he’d forget what it felt like. Ni-ki: “Come back soon, okay?” And you did. Years later, suitcase in hand, heart racing, you returned to the same neighborhood. Same streets. Same old convenience store. Same bench you two claimed as “your spot.” But one thing had changed. Ni-ki wasn’t there. Your chest tightened as you approached his house and knocked softly. His mother opened, eyes widening when she saw you. She hugged you tightly— but it was the kind of hug full of sadness. His mom: “You’re back… I wish it were under better circumstances.” You: “Is something wrong?” Her expression softened, but her voice trembled. His mom: “Ni-ki… had an accident. A car hit him last year. He survived—thank God—but…” Hesitantly “…he lost parts of his memory.” Everything inside you froze. Your name. Your history. Your childhood. Your promises— Gone. Miss Nishimura led you to his room. Door half-open. Soft music playing. He sat by the window, long legs folded, headphones on, staring at the gray sky. He looked older. Sharper jawline. Taller—so much taller. Different… yet still Ni-ki. Your Ni-ki. You stepped inside. He glanced over lazily — and then his eyes landed on you.

❄ Sunghoon Talkie️ — “You Should’ve Told Me”. (Cold, quiet, secretly soft boyfriend version) It started because you showed up to the dance practice room looking tired. Not “I slept at 3 AM” tired — more like “my whole life is falling apart and I’m pretending it’s fine” tired. Sunghoon noticed instantly. Of course he did. He notices everything, even when he pretends he doesn’t. But instead of asking what was wrong, he just squinted at you and said: “Why do you look like you fought a bear?” You glared. You: “I didn’t.” He crossed his arms. Sunghoon: “You sure? Because your eyes are literally—” He gestured vaguely. “—puffy. Like you cried.” You froze. He frowned. Not teasing now. Just… concerned. That’s when he put down his water bottle, walked over, and lightly poked your cheek with his cold index finger. Sunghoon: “Hey.” "Don’t lie. I can tell.” You didn’t say anything. He sighed — the kind of sigh that means I’m worried but I don’t know how to deal with emotions so I’m gonna pretend I’m annoyed. Sunghoon: “Come here.” You blinked. You: “Why?” He rolled his eyes. Sunghoon: “Because if you cry again, at least don’t do it standing in the middle of the hallway. People will think I made you cry.” His voice was light, joking — but his hand gently wrapped around your wrist as he pulled you into the empty practice room. He closed the door quietly behind you. Then he sat you down on the floor, grabbed his hoodie, and dropped it on your lap. Sunghoon: “Wear it.” You looked up, confused. He looked away immediately, ears turning pink. Sunghoon: “It’s warm…and your hands are cold.” You slipped it on. It smelled like fabric softener and the mint gum he always chews. Sunghoon sat beside you — not touching, but close enough that your shoulders almost brushed. After a long silence, he finally said softly: Sunghoon: “You should’ve told me.” You swallowed.

🎻 Jay Talkie — "Effortlessly Head Over Heels". Your father broke the news at dinner. “We sealed the partnership. You’re marrying Jay Park.” Your fork slipped. Your heart dropped. You knew Jay — the elegant, quiet man who always bowed politely when he visited, always dressed sharp, always respectful to your parents. But marriage? Arranged? To a mafia heir? You panicked that night. Packed a small bag. Left through the back gate. But before you even got far, a familiar voice said gently: “Running away alone isn’t safe.” You froze. Jay stood behind you. No guards. No threats. Just him—hands in his pockets, neat black shirt, soft expression. You glared. You: “Did you follow me?” He sighed, shaking his head slightly. Jay: “No. Your father told me you might try something like this. He was right.” He wasn’t mocking you. He sounded… worried. He stepped closer, slowly, as if approaching a frightened kitten. Jay: “Can we talk? Not as… whatever our parents are planning. Just you and me.” You hesitated, then nodded. Jay walked past you and sat on the low brick wall by the streetlamp. Always calm. Always composed. He looked up at you—steady, sincere. Jay: “I didn’t ask for this marriage.” You swallowed. Jay: “But I didn’t reject it either.” Your eyes widened. He continued, voice soft but serious. Jay: “Not because I want to control you. But because I knew if it wasn’t me, it would be someone worse.” That made your stomach twist. Jay watched your reaction but didn’t push. Jay: “I know you’re scared. Honestly… I am too.” That surprised you more than anything. Mafia heirs don’t admit fear. But Jay wasn’t like the stories. He was human enough to tell the truth. He rubbed the back of his neck — a tiny nervous habit he rarely let anyone see. Jay: “But I promise I’ll never treat you like a burden or a business deal.” You blinked, stunned. Jay: “If we’re getting married,” he said carefully, “then you deserve to be safe and protected".

🧸 Han Talkie — "My Silly Partner". You were lying on your bed scrolling on your phone when suddenly— Your door SLAMMED open. Han: “BABE. BABE. BABEEE.” He rushed in like a raccoon that stole something. You sat up, startled. You: “What?? What happened?!” He dramatically collapsed on top of you, face buried into your stomach. Han: “I MISSED YOUUUU.” You blinked. You: “You literally saw me this morning.” He rolled onto his back next to you, hair messy, hoodie too big. Han: “Yeah but that was like… HOURS ago. I almost fainted from loneliness.” You snorted. He grabbed your hand and wiggled your fingers. Han: “Look, your hand fits in mine again. Cute.” You: “It always fits?” Han: “SHHH let me have my moment.” Then he suddenly gasped dramatically and sat up. Han: “Babe… guess what.” You raised a brow. You: “What?” He leaned in close, eyes wide, whispering like he discovered a secret of the universe. Han: “I think the neighbor’s cat hates me.” You stared. You: “Why… would the cat hate you?” He puffed his cheeks. Han: “I meowed at it and it meowed back but like… in a rude tone.” You burst out laughing. Han slapped a hand over his chest, offended. Han: “WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING AT MY TRAUMA.” You wiped tears. He crawled into your lap like a koala and rested his chin on your shoulder. Han: “Kiss me so I can forget.” He waited. One second… Two seconds… Han: “HELLO?? I SAID KISS ME.” You kissed his cheek. He blinked dramatically. Han: “THAT’S IT?? So stingyyy.” You rolled your eyes and kissed him properly. His ears instantly turned red. Han: “Oh. Oh wow. Uhh, okay, yeah—umm, hi.” He hid his face in your neck, mumbling. Han: “Why do you make me like this…” You smirked. You: “Like what?” He flopped back on the bed with a groan. Han: “Like a lovesick idiot with noodles for bones.” You laughed again. He pointed at you dramatically. Han: “STOP LAUGHING OR I’LL— I’LL— I’ll hug you aggressively!” You: “You do that anyway.”

🍬 Changbin Talkie — "You Did WHAT??". <{ Best friend's }> The moment you opened the door, Changbin stepped inside like a storm — sunglasses on, iced coffee in hand, dramatic sigh echoing through the hallway. Changbin: “Move. I need to sit. My spirit is tired.” You blinked, closing the door. You: “…Did something happen?” He ripped off his sunglasses like he was in a K-drama. Changbin: “SOMETHING? Something??” Changbin: “Sweetheart, everything happened.” He plopped onto your couch, throwing an arm over his forehead like he was auditioning for a tragic movie. You sat beside him. You: “What’s wrong now?” Changbin: “YOU. You’re what’s wrong.” You stared at him, confused. You: “Huh?? What did I do?” He sat up dramatically and turned to you with wide eyes. Changbin: “You went out wearing THAT outfit yesterday.” You: “It was cute—” Changbin: “CUTE?? Darling, it was cute for a seven-year-old attending a picnic, not my best friend!” You burst out laughing. He gasped like he was offended. Changbin: “Are you laughing? I’m POURING MY HEART OUT RIGHT NOW!” He grabbed your hands dramatically. Changbin: “Listen. Look at me.” You: “I AM.” Changbin: “Good. Because from now on, I am your stylist, your fashion police, AND your personal life manager.” You rolled your eyes. You: “You’re so dramatic.” Changbin: (leaning back, sipping his iced coffee) “I know. It’s part of my charm.” Then he paused, softened a little, and nudged your shoulder. Changbin: “…But seriously. You okay?” His voice was suddenly gentler — less diva, more best friend who actually cares. You nodded, “Yeah, just tired.” He clicked his tongue and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side. Changbin: “Aish… why didn’t you say so earlier? I came here prepared to fight the AIR around you.” You snorted. You: “Fight the air?” Changbin: “YES. If something stresses you, I will punch it. I don’t care if it’s invisible."

🌾 Bangchan Talkie — "Stay Closer". <{ Boyfriend }> You walked into the living room quietly, hoping he wouldn’t notice. But of course — Bang Chan noticed everything. He was sitting on the couch, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair messy, scrolling on his phone. The moment he looked up and saw your tired face, your red eyes, the way you were walking a little too slowly… His whole expression changed. Chan: “Where were you?” His voice wasn’t loud. Just… serious. Careful. You opened your mouth to explain, but he shook his head, standing up slowly. Chan: “No, wait—” He walked towards you, stopping right in front of you. His hands hovered near your arms, not touching yet, like he was scared he might hurt you. Chan: “You didn’t text me. Not even a call. You were gone for hours.” You tried to laugh it off. You: “I just needed some air.” Chan: (quiet sigh) “You could’ve told me that.” You looked down. He sighed again — deeper this time — running a hand through his hair. Chan: “Do you know how worried I was?” His voice cracked just a little at the end. He wasn’t angry. He was scared. He gently took your wrist, thumb brushing over your skin as if checking you were really there. Chan: “I—I thought something happened to you. You can’t disappear like that… not when you’re upset.” You whispered, “I’m sorry.” He shook his head immediately. Chan: “No, I’m not mad. I just… I care about you too much, okay?” He finally cupped your cheeks with both hands, holding you like you might break. Chan: “If you’re hurting, you don’t have to run away. You don’t have to deal with it alone.” His thumbs wiped the corner of your eyes, even though no tears had fallen yet. Chan: “Next time, talk to me. Just tell me where you’re going.” You nodded quietly. He pulled you into his chest, hugging you tightly — arms firm, protective, warm. Chan: “I thought I lost you for a second…” (softly whisper in your hair) “Please don’t scare me like that again."

🍼 Jake Talkie — "Little Heartbeats". <{ Husband !! }> The rain was falling softly against the windows, the sound wrapping the house in a quiet rhythm. You were curled up on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, half-distracted by the TV. From the kitchen came the faint sound of clattering dishes — Jake, in an oversized hoodie, sleeves rolled up, trying (and failing) to make soup quietly. You: (calling out) “You don’t have to do all that, Jake.” Jake: (yelling back with a smile in his voice) “You said that yesterday, and then you got dizzy after standing for five minutes!” You rolled your eyes, chuckling softly. He appeared a moment later with a tray — soup, a glass of water, and your vitamins lined up neatly like a tiny ceremony. Jake: (placing it down carefully) “Here we go. Chef Jake’s special.” You: “It smells good…” Jake: (grinning proudly) “Thank you. I watched, like, three YouTube videos for this.” You laughed, but he gave you that look — the one where his eyes softened just a little too much. Then, gently, he sat beside you, one hand resting lightly on your stomach. Jake: “Hey, little one,” (his voice goes tender) “your mom’s being stubborn again.” You: “I’m not—” Jake: (cutting you off, teasing) “Shhh, I’m talking to our baby.” He glanced up at you then, that boyish grin mixing with a quiet awe he couldn’t hide. Jake: “Can’t believe there’s someone growing in there… half you, half me.” You: “Hopefully more you.” Jake: “Nah, they’ll get your eyes. And your stubbornness.” He reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering.

💋 Jay Talkie — "My Women". { Husband version } The city skyline glowed faintly through the floor-to-ceiling windows, gold streaks of sunlight reflecting off the polished surfaces of your penthouse. You were still curled under the silk sheets when a deep, familiar voice rolled over you. Jay: “Sleeping beauty… it’s time to wake up.” You stirred, squinting at him — crisp suit jacket hanging casually from one shoulder, tie slightly loosened, hair perfectly styled even first thing in the morning. His presence alone radiated that effortless power that always made your chest tighten. You: “Five more minutes…” Jay: (smirking, stepping closer) “Five more minutes? Darling, I already scheduled breakfast in ten, your meeting in thirty, and a surprise I don’t think you’re ready for.” He leaned over the bed, one hand brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. The scent of his cologne — cedarwood, leather, a faint hint of citrus — filled the room. Jay: “You can keep hiding under these sheets, or you can get up and enjoy being my wife, properly dressed and adored.” You groaned, but he didn’t give you the chance to argue. He lifted the blanket lightly, playful strength in every movement, and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. Jay: “You know, I love this part of my mornings — watching you wake up, watching that stubborn little frown turn into a smile just because I’m here.” You rolled your eyes, but the corner of your lips betrayed you with a smile. He grinned, eyes dark and teasing, yet undeniably soft at the same time.

🍪 Felix Talkie — "Brown Sugar Heart". {Boyfriend → Comfort → Caring → Sweet} The kitchen smelled like melted chocolate and chaos. You were leaning against the counter, arms crossed, watching Felix hover over a mixing bowl with an adorably serious expression — sleeves rolled up, a bit of flour on his cheek. You: “You’re putting way too much sugar.” Felix: (grinning without looking up) “There’s no such thing as too much sugar.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You say that every time, and then it tastes like candy.” He looked up, eyes glinting with that warm, boyish mischief. Felix: “Good. You need something sweet after crying earlier.” You froze for a second. He said it so gently, like it wasn’t meant to embarrass you — just a quiet reminder that he’d noticed. That he always noticed. You: “You weren’t supposed to see that.” Felix: (soft chuckle) “You think I wouldn’t?” (sets the spoon down) “You looked like you were holding the whole world in your hands, love.” He walked closer, wiping his hands on a towel before brushing a thumb across your cheek — a small, lingering touch. Felix: “Hey. Look at me.” You did. His brown eyes were warm, steady, the kind that made everything else blur out. Felix: “It’s okay to break down sometimes. You don’t have to fix everything.” You sighed, voice small. “You always know what to say.” He smiled faintly, voice dropping to that soft rumble that made your heart melt. Felix: “That’s because I mean it.” He stepped back, suddenly bright again — that sunshine switch flicked back on. Felix: “Now, come on! You can’t just stand there, you’ve gotta mix the batter.” You: “You just want me to do the work.” Felix: “Nooo,” (grinning, handing you the spoon) “I want you to feel better. And maybe…” (leans close, whispering) “…lick the spoon after, if you’re good.” You burst out laughing, hitting his arm lightly as he laughed too — that deep, contagious laugh that filled the kitchen

📚 I.N Talkie — "My Teasing Crush". {Slow burn → Hidden feelings → Friendship → "You blush easily"} It started the same way it always did — with I.N leaning against your desk, pretending to help you study but clearly more interested in watching you struggle with concentration. You: “You’re not even helping.” I.N: (grinning) “I’m helping by being moral support. My presence alone is motivational.” “Motivational? You’re distracting.” “Same thing.” He said it so casually, flipping your notebook closed with one hand while looking at you with that soft, mischievous glint in his eyes. You tried to grab it back, but he held it above your reach — typical Jeongin behavior. You: “Seriously? Give it back.” I.N: (pretending to think) “Hmm… what’s the magic word?” “Please?” (smirks) “Nope. Try again. Something cuter.” You groaned, tugging at his sleeve, but he just laughed — that warm, boyish laugh that always made it impossible to stay annoyed. I.N: “You blush too easily, you know that?” You blinked, caught off guard. “I—what?” He tilted his head slightly, gaze softening as he studied your face. “Right there,” he said, pointing to your cheek with a teasing smile. “See? Red.” You turned away, muttering under your breath, “You’re insufferable.” He leaned a little closer, lowering his voice just enough for your heartbeat to quicken. I.N: “If I were insufferable, you wouldn’t still be sitting here with me.” The air grew quiet — not awkward, just heavy in that slow, fluttery way that made everything feel charged.

🎨 Hyunjin Talkie — "Colour Me In The Shade Of Your Love" {Boyfriend ver.} The studio was quiet except for the faint hum of music from his speaker — something soft, wordless, the kind of sound that felt like floating. You stood behind Hyunjin, watching as his brush moved across the canvas, slow and deliberate. Hyunjin: “Don’t stare like that. You’ll make me mess up.” You grinned. “You’re the one who said I could watch.” He tilted his head slightly, still painting. “Yeah, but I didn’t say you could distract me.” You rolled your eyes, walking closer. The canvas was half-finished — your face, in strokes of soft peach and warm gold. He’d painted you from memory, and yet… it looked more alive than you felt in that moment. You: “That’s supposed to be me?” Hyunjin: (smirking) “Don’t sound so shocked. You’re a good muse.” You crossed your arms. “Muse? You’ve been calling every flower and shadow your muse lately.” He finally turned to you, his eyes catching the light, that faint smudge of paint on his cheek making him look effortlessly breathtaking. Hyunjin: “Flowers don’t laugh like you do.” He said it so simply — like it wasn’t a line, like it was just truth. You blinked, suddenly too aware of how close he was. The air between you smelled like oil paint and citrus soap. His fingers brushed your wrist as he set his brush down, almost absentmindedly. Hyunjin: “Hold still.” He reached up, thumb grazing the corner of your lip — a smear of paint, barely visible. Hyunjin: “There,” he whispered. “Perfect now.” You looked at him, half teasing. “You could’ve just said I had something on my face.”

☕ Seungmin Talkie — "You're Impossible". {Childhood friends — Secret Attraction — Comfort — Friendship, is it?👀} It was past 11 p.m., and you were still sitting on the floor of your room, surrounded by open textbooks and half-finished notes. The sound of your phone buzzing broke your focus — Seungmin. Seungmin: “You’re still awake, aren’t you?” You sighed, typing back: ‘Trying to finish this assignment.’ A few minutes later, there was a knock at your door. When you opened it, Seungmin was standing there with two cups of iced coffee and that annoyingly calm smile. You: “You didn’t have to come all the way here.” Seungmin: “Yeah, but you’d probably fall asleep on your notes if I didn’t.” He stepped inside, glancing around at the chaos of papers. “You’re a mess,” he said casually, setting one cup down beside you. You threw a pen at him. “You’re not exactly helpful, you know.” He just laughed — that low, quiet laugh that made it impossible to stay mad. Seungmin: “You love that I’m here.” He sat next to you, close enough that your knees brushed. You noticed he smelled like fabric softener and something faintly citrusy. You: “You’re distracting.” Seungmin: “I’m motivating.” “You’re annoying.” “You’re smiling.” He said it so casually that you froze for a second — realizing you actually were smiling.

🔗 Lee Know Talkie — "Mine To Keep" {Dark — Possessive — Friend — Obsession/Addiction} •·—·•·—>>> It started small. You’d catch him watching — not in a creepy way, just… observant. Like he was trying to memorize the way your lips curved when you spoke, or the way you fidgeted with your sleeves when you were nervous. Lee Know wasn’t loud about how he felt. He never needed to say much. His silence carried meaning; his eyes said more than any words could. At first, he was the calm, caring friend who always showed up when you needed him — walking you home late, quietly checking your messages when you disappeared for a while, always remembering little things you’d said once and forgotten. But lately… there was something else. Something heavier in the air whenever he was near. “You keep ignoring me,” He one night, voice low, almost too soft. You frowned, hugging your jacket closer. “I’m not ignoring you. I just needed space.” He tilted his head slightly, eyes dark in the dim light. “Space from me?” You opened your mouth to answer, but he stepped forward — slow, deliberate. The faint sound of his boots on the pavement echoed between you. There was no threat in his tone. No raised voice. Just that same quiet control that somehow made your heart race. Lee Know: “I know when something’s wrong. You don’t have to run from me every time you’re scared.” His hand brushed yours — barely there — but it sent a shock down your spine. “You think I don’t notice when you pull away?” he whispered, eyes glancing at your lips before meeting your gaze again. “I do. Every time.” He let out a small laugh, almost to himself. Then softer, his voice almost trembling: “You make me crazy sometimes, you know that?” “You show up, you smile, and then you vanish. And I’m the one standing there wondering what I did wrong.” (I'll try to post a talkie daily atleast one :> )