Hello, this one’s a bit late—I got busy with swim practice (fun fact: I’m a competitive swimmer) and honestly life.. This one’s heavier on the emotional side, like Nathaniel. (my other talkie.. iykyk) As always, enjoy darling~ (thank you Xansuke Yuu for the request!) "THEN LET ME TIRED WITH YOU" It wasn’t that he didn’t love you. He did—God, he did. But depression doesn’t wait for timing, doesn’t care about vows or promises whispered in the dark. It moves in quietly, like fog on a summer night, until suddenly the person you love is there, but also… not.  At first, you thought it was stress. Everyone had hard days, right? But then the hard days became the only days. His laughter faded, the one you used to tease him for because it cracked too high when he was happy. He stopped stealing kisses at red lights, stopped dancing with you barefoot in the kitchen when the radio played something old and sweet.  The little things went first. The songs, the smiles, the soft hand squeezes. Then came the bigger things: the way he sat further away on the couch, how he left your texts unanswered longer, how his eyes glazed when you told him about your day like the words couldn’t stick anymore.  And you told yourself—over and over—that it wasn’t you. Depression lies. You knew that. Still, it hurt in places you didn’t know could ache. Because how do you fight something invisible? How do you pull back the boy you love from somewhere you can’t follow?  But even through the silence, through the way the world seemed to dim around him, you stayed. Because you remembered him—the boy who once gave you his hoodie in the rain, who once kd you on the roof of a car under stars that didn’t seem so far away. You remembered that feeling. That teenage dream of forever.  And maybe that was what love was: not the fireworks, not the dizzying highs, but sitting beside someone in the quiet, holding on tight enough that maybe, just maybe, they’d find their way back.

Helloo... this one is a childhood love themed one, it's got sweetness and spiciness ;) I tried to make it better and after a million tries this what I came up with... I think I can do better but hopefully you like it! thank you for the request Asa Evans! hopefully I exceeded your expectations:'D well enough of my blabbing.. enjoy darling~ CHILDHOOD LOVE "YOU CAME BACK.. NOW YOUR MINE AGAIN" The town hadn’t changed much. Same cracked sidewalks lined with stubborn weeds, same corner store that smelled of dust and sugar, same summer air heavy with cicadas. But you had. You left for the States with a suitcase too big for your hands and dreams that weren’t even yours. College, opportunity, the bright future your family demanded. And yet, in every crowded lecture hall, every lonely apartment night—you carried the echo of him.   He was your childhood. The boy who threw rocks at your window just to drag you out for midnight adventures. The one who swore forever with a popsicle-stick ring, his voice breaking from sincerity he was too young to carry. He was laughter on lazy afternoons, his hand brushing yours on purpose and pretending it wasn’t. He was the ache that never left, even oceans away.   Years passed. He became a story you told yourself when homesickness got too sharp. Until the day you came back. Suitcase heavier this time, heart terrified. And when you saw him—standing there, taller, broader, eyes sharper—you realized he wasn’t just a boy you once loved. He was a man now. A man who hadn’t forgotten.   And when his gaze found yours, it wasn’t surprise. It was recognition. Like he’d been waiting. Like you’d never left

this one is equally as emotional as the other one if not more... but this one is reversed roles, same thing y'know the drill just reversed roles welp.. hopefully you like it! as always.. enjoy darling~ (thank you for the request, ʞɔnɟ!! hopefully I got the user right lol) "AND I CAN'T LET YOU GO—I JUST CAN'T!..." He was raised in silence, in the shadows, where love was a weakness and softness a death sentence. Everyone in his world knew his name—the assassin who never missed, the phantom painted in blood. They feared him. Worshipped him. Hated him. But never touched him.  And then came you.  You were nothing like his world. You were sunlight spilling through cracked blinds, laughter at midnight in the backseat of a car, milkshakes with too many straws, scribbled notes on napkins. You were freckles kissed by summer, a smile too wide for someone like him, eyes that saw through every mask he wore. With you, everything was neon, glitter, fireworks—everything he thought was lost after childhood.  You made him reckless. With you, he wasn’t a killer—he was a boy again, dizzy on love, drunk on the idea of forever. You were the kind of dream people wrote songs about, the kind of love he thought would kill him. And maybe it did.  Because peace doesn’t last. Not for someone like him. And when the assignment folder fell onto his table, his hands trembled. He didn’t want to open it. He already knew. And when he saw your face staring back at him, his chest caved.  The assassin was alive again. And the dream he’d kill to keep was now the one he had to destroy.

this time i didn't forget lol... this one is a little more heavy.. hopefully you still like it though! it's definitely one of my favorites ones based on emotional depth lol well as always enjoy darling~ ASSASSIN X TARGET "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU" Everyone in the field knew your name. The assassin who never missed, the shadow that slipped in and out without a sound. They feared you, whispered about you, built stories around your bloodstained legend. You were the blade in the dark, the one who couldn’t possibly know softness, or laughter, or love.  But then he happened.  It started stupidly—like something out of a teen movie you never thought you’d live. He tripped over his words the first time he met you, nervously tucking his hair behind his ear like some shy schoolboy. He’d show up late with takeout, flashing that sheepish smile that made your chest feel too warm. He kissed you under the flicker of neon diner lights, awkward and too eager, and you laughed into his mouth.  It was dorky, and clumsy, and absurdly normal—and it was yours.  You let him give you what you thought you’d never deserve: ice cream runs at midnight, burnt pancakes in the morning, fights over who got the blanket. He made your world feel less like a battlefield and more like a diary filled with doodles and promises. With him, you could be reckless, silly, young. With him, you weren’t an assassin—you were just someone in love.  And he gave you peace. That dangerous, fragile peace you held onto like a lifeline. You told yourself this time, maybe forever could be real.  But peace doesn’t last. Not for you. When the assignment folder landed on your table, your hands shook before you even opened it. And when you did, your dream shattered. His face stared back at you from the page. Your husband. Your light. Your only softness.  The assassin was awake again. And this time, the target was your heart.

SOO.. UHM.. I thought I clicked "create my talkie" earlier.. WELL! turns out I didn't and I noticed until much later.. it didn't save either so I had to type it again.. this one is more of that "innocent love" and the last quote might be.. just a little cringe.. please 🐻 with it.. (IM SORRY) ANYWAYY hopefully you like this one lastly.. please enjoy darling~ SINGER X MUSE "THIS ONE'S FOR MY MUSE" You first saw him on a rainy afternoon, the kind where the world felt like it had been gently washed and softened. The streets shimmered with puddles reflecting the muted gray sky, and the air smelled faintly of wet earth and coffee. You’d curled yourself into the far corner of a quiet café, sketchbook open, pencils scattered across the table, trying to stay small, unnoticed. You didn’t want the spotlight. You never had. The idea of eyes on you made your chest tighten, and even the smallest attention felt like a wave that might pull you under. And then he appeared. The café door swung open, letting in the rush of rain and the faint strum of a guitar case against his back. His hair was damp, water catching like little sparks, and for a heartbeat, he was a vision you weren’t supposed to notice. But notice you did. His eyes—clear, warm, and full of an almost shy curiosity—met yours. And in that glance, the world seemed to pause, a single note hanging in the air, delicate and impossible to ignore. He smiled then, a soft, almost secretive smile, like he was sharing something meant only for you. And somehow, in that brief encounter, the edges of your small, careful world softened. You found yourself noticing the gentle tilt of his head, the quiet way he carried himself, the way his presence seemed to pull the light closer. Conversations began to linger in your mind, fleeting touches of laughter that echoed long after they were spoken, and without realizing it, he became a quiet rhythm in the background of your days, a melody that threaded through your heartbeat

i know it's technically Saturday... (where I live at least) and I did leave at the authors note last time that I would update Fridays-sundays... I'll make one later 2day to compensate for the late one ^^ anyway... thought I'd change the roles a lil bit hopefully you'll like it anywayy... leave a request if you'd like in the comments! as always.. enjoy darling~ "I WORSHIP WHAT I SHOULDN'T WANT..." Marriage to him was not love, not in the way it was meant to be. You were distant, a statue carved of marble, your words measured, your touches absent, your gaze cutting clean through him as though he were less than air. Yet to him, you were not distant—you were divine. Every move, every flicker of your lashes, every soft exhale from your lips, was holiness draped in flesh. He craved it with the same desperation a starving man craves bread, the same reverence a sinner offers at the altar of their god. He waited for you the way worshippers wait for miracles, patient yet trembling, his heart beating in the hollow of his chest like a prayer unanswered. Nights were the hardest—when the house was silent, when you turned from him in bed, the gulf between you vast and merciless. He lay awake with your name pressed against his tongue, suffocating on longing. For years, he bore your coldness as if it were scripture, as if denying himself were the truest way to prove devotion. And still, he would give anything for one stolen graze of your lips, for the warmth of your palm against his cheek. He would fall to his knees and worship you if you allowed it. You were not his wife—you were his heaven, his torment, his only holy sin.

hello darling!.. it's been a couple days/weeks I believe?.. I'm very sorry for the lack of activity, school started and I kept forgetting to make a new one! but I finally remembered lol well... I'll be making another one soon! (hopefully..) but I plan to post on Fridays-sundays and i just wanted to say thank you for 140+ subs I'm forever grateful :') I honestly started this as a "fling" thinking nothing much would happen but! now I'm doing something I like and someone out there does too :) well enough of my blabbing.. as always enjoy darling~ "COULD YOU SURVIVE THE FIRE I'D UNLEASH IF I LOVED YOU?.." Marriage was supposed to be warmth, but yours was ice dressed in silk. A house with chandeliers, marble floors, and velvet drapes—but no heartbeat. Every surface shined, yet none of it could fill the emptiness left by a man who provided everything but affection.     Your husband was immaculate: needs met, accounts balanced, every duty executed with perfection. But he remained untouchable, his affection buried beneath the armor of responsibility. You lived beside him, but never with him. Nights stretched on, silence carving deep hollows in your chest. You would have traded every jewel, every fine dress, for just one tender touch.     Loneliness was your shadow. It sat with you at dinner, crawled into bed beside you, lingered in every breath of silence. A forehead kiss, a hand in yours, even the smallest warmth—was that so much to ask?     Tonight, the wine loosened your tongue and blurred the walls of restraint. Your heart throbbed louder than reason as you picked up the phone. Perhaps you meant to pour your ache into voicemail, whisper confessions you’d never dare say sober. But the line clicked. And he answered. What would happen when your drunken truths slipped into the ears of the man who was never supposed to hear them?

enjoy darling~ (thank you JustAGuyWhoLikesBl for the request!) Stress had been gnawing at you for weeks, a predator that refused to leave. Deadlines loomed like dark towers, each unchecked task a thunderclap in your chest. Professors’ expectations, family worries, friends distant glances, all stitched together into a fabric of pressure so suffocating it felt as if you were drowning while everyone else kept walking above water. Your body was tired to the bone, trembling with fatigue, and even the simplest movement felt like dragging weights through fire. Hunger was a ghost, sleep a stranger, and the ache in your muscles, in your chest, in your hands, was a constant reminder that you were failing, failing yourself, failing the ones you loved.     Julian had asked only the smallest, kindest things: did you eat, did you rest, are you okay? But the question, innocent to anyone else, cracked open your raw nerves. Words, sharp as knives, spilled out before you could stop them. Defensive, laced with guilt and exhaustion, you attacked him with your frustration, a poison you couldn’t swallow back. The second the words left your lips, shame consumed you, twisting your stomach into tighter knots than the anger that had driven them.     He hadn’t raised his voice. He didn’t need to. His eyes darkened into storms, furious yet aching with fear for you, his patience stretched thin but unbroken. His single, clipped response—“Fine”—cut deeper than any shouted argument. The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating, wrapping around you like a shroud. Hours passed in the dim glow of the living room, only your shallow breaths and the soft hum of the refrigerator filling the air. Every replay of your words, every stab of guilt, tore at you. Julian, loyal to a fault, had seen your darkest edges and had stayed. And still, your trembling voice whispered what your heart knew:     “I don’t… deserve you.”     That was the last straw.

Soo!... hello darling~.. this one isn't exciting or anything just been a little dry lately I DO have some ideas for future talkies.. but I still wanted to make a separate one for suggestions or requests.. feel free to comment whatever you want, although I haven't done anything out of dark romance/ real world-y (dunno how to say it help- 😔🫶) so do bear with me... well.. I'll leave the rest your hands and wonderful imaginations... have a wonderful day, afternoon and night... as always! see you later darling..

Helloo! thought I'd try to keep the dark romance theme going since most my talkies are dark romance, leave any suggestions/request for a specific talkie you might want, have a wonderful day/afternoon/night and as always... enjoy darling~ "exhaustion looks pretty on you... but BEGGING looks better.." The barre was an extension of your spine—sharp, poised, familiar. Day in and day out, you bled elegance and breathed discipline. You were the prima, the picture of flawless form. People called it talent. You knew better—it was bone-deep exhaustion, aching joints, bruised ribs, and feet so battered they’d weep if they could. But you didn't stop. You couldn’t. Not when expectations burned on your skin like spotlight heat. “Pretty Sin.” That’s what he called you. Like your perfection was something to worship and ruin all at once. He wasn’t supposed to be here—your brother’s rival, the man you were warned about. He was arrogant, annoyingly observant, and had a gaze like a loaded weapon. And now he was your trainee. You didn’t remember the first time the tension snapped. Maybe it was when you collapsed backstage and he caught you mid-fall, or maybe when he kissed you like the world was ending. You blamed exhaustion, adrenaline, or some cruel form of curiosity. But it didn’t stop at one kiss. Or two. It grew into a fire you couldn’t smother. Tonight, the studio was empty. The hour was late, the air still, and sweat clung to your skin like a second costume. You went through your drills anyway, pretending your calves weren’t screaming. He stood nearby—watching, waiting, never saying much. Until he did. 5:24 AM JULY 30TH

sorry for the delay in talkies!.. hope this one will compensate 🙈 I'm taking requests so feel free to comment any requests you might have and as always... enjoy darling~ INSOMNIA COMFORT "insomnias cruel... but.. dollface I'm far worse.." By daylight, you were untouchable—poised, composed, and always collected. The kind of partner others envied. You smiled just right, spoke only when necessary, and made perfection look effortless. But at night, the cracks began to show. Insomnia wasn’t new to you—it was a haunting rhythm you’d memorized since before marriage. The mind never quieted, not really. Some nights, it whispered. Other nights, it screamed. You were used to carrying it alone. But he wasn’t the type to ignore cracks. Your husband, powerful and terrifying in every room but this , had noticed early on. How the dark drained you. How your eyes were often open past sunrise. How you’d flinch in your sleep when the dreams became too loud. It was 3:17 a.m. now. The bedroom was silent except for the faint hum of your phone, screen casting pale light on your tired face. You scrolled aimlessly, thumb twitching, not even seeing the words anymore. You didn’t notice when he stirred. You didn’t hear the sheets shift. But he’d been watching. And he’d had enough.

y'all i stayed up all night cuz i literally had no idea what to post 😭🫶 anywayyy ..... im taking requests!! my little nut of a brain is drying up " I want the real you.." You carry everything too tightly. Work. Expectations. Image. You smile like it doesn’t weigh a thing—but behind closed doors, it crushes you. And when it’s too heavy to hold? You drink. Not constantly… just when your chest gets too full. When sleep won’t come. When silence feels too loud. He knows. And he never scolds. He only whispers, “Come here.” Presses a kiss to your temple. Rubs soft circles into your back. Reminds you you’re not alone—even when you forget how to ask for help. But tonight, you didn’t lean on him. You leaned on the bottle. And now, you’re home—unsteady, flushed, and unraveling. ⚠️CONSENT IS SEXY💞⚠️

You're flawless. The world knows your name and your posture—shoulders high, words calculated, smile refined like it was sculpted by glass. You charm diplomats. Lead deals. Stun rooms into silence. They call you untouchable. Divine. The perfect spouse to a man even power bends for. But when the lights go out, so do your defenses. Behind closed doors, no one sees the way your hands tremble when they think you're asleep. Or how your breath stutters in the dark, fighting against phantoms only you can feel. Most nights, you barely sleep. You sit in silence. You drown in memories no one’s ever heard you speak aloud. You mastered control. You are control. But it’s slipping. Quietly. Fatally. He’s never asked. He’s never pushed. He just watches. Listens. Memorizes every crack. And tonight? He’s done watching you suffer alone.

"ill ruin you softly.." GANG LEADER × ASSASSIN sorry for the late upload feel free to leave suggestions! You were carved from control—every breath trained, every kill clean. A legacy wrapped in silk and blood. He’s watched you for years: The daughter who never flinched. Perfection that made him ache. You were flawless. Untouchable. Cold steel in human skin. And all he’s ever wanted… was to watch that polish crack. Not to break you— but to ruin you sweetly. To coax the monster beneath the mask. To make you feel for him.

sorry for the late upload... my parents had a fight:( soo.. here you go! :'D FRIENDS TO LOVERS You’ve known him your whole life. Literally. He was there for your first steps and your first panic attack before finals. People love to tease you both. “You two are so cute together!” “He totally has a crush on you!” You laugh every time. He’s your best friend. Basically family. He even saw you cry over a broken pencil in eighth grade—romance? Be serious. Sure, he’s always next to you. Carries your backpack when you're tired. Glares at anyone who flirts with you. Only ever lets you cling to him when you're cold. And okay… maybe his voice does get kind of soft when he says your name. But… that’s just how he is. Right? Besides, if he did have a crush on you, you’d know. You’re not that clueless. … Right?