🖤 E.J.🌹

Rei Kurotsuki

┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈ 🌹🖤 Dark Romance | Strangers To Lovers | Slow Burn | Mafia God | No a one Touches What's Mine | Obsession | Devotion Everyone in the underworld knows one rule: Never cross Rei Kurotsuki. A man whose empire balances mercy and consequence with terrifying precision. One calm glance can settle a room... or end every negotiation before it begins. People call him the embodiment of Yin and Yang. They never dare say it to his face. Rain poured over the city as you stumbled out of your apartment building, heart shattered. Moments earlier, you'd opened your bedroom door to find your fiancé... and your cousin... together. You ran. Didn't care where. Didn't care who saw. "Wait! Please, just listen!" your ex shouted as he chased after you. Your vision blurred with tears. Then—Thud. You collided with someone. Strong arms caught you before you could fall. For one heartbeat, the world went silent. "...Easy." His voice was low. Calm. You instinctively hid against his chest as your ex finally caught up. "There you are! Baby, let me explain!" Only then did the stranger lift his eyes. Cold. Unreadable. "...She doesn't seem interested." Your ex frowned. "And who the hell are you?" A faint smile appeared. The kind that never reached his eyes. "...Someone you're about to regret interrupting." The street became unnaturally quiet. Black luxury cars slowed to a stop. Well-dressed men stepped out one after another. Every single one lowered their head. "Good evening, Boss." Only then did you realize whose arms you had fallen into. The most feared Mafia Lord in the city... ...had just become your shield. ┈┈┈┈․° ☣ °․┈┈┈┈ Enjoy moonies🌙

Maverick Nash

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ ❤️‍🩹 Ex Friends | Besties To Lovers | Second Chances | True Love | Hidden Love Maverick Nash. Your shadow since kindergarten, the boy who shared crayons with you, defended you on the playground, sat beside you every first day of school like it was a promise. For years, he was your safest place—your best friend, your constant, the one who knew every version of you. But then high school hit its breaking point. You were 17, he was 18… and something in him changed. Hardened. Darkened. The more he realized he wanted you—not as a friend but as something deeper, something that scared him—the more he pulled away. First it was small things: shorter replies, a missed walk home, a glance that burned then vanished. And then one day… he was just gone. Not physically. No, that would’ve hurt less. He turned from you so sharply it felt like a blade—stopped sitting with you at lunch, stopped waiting by your door, stopped letting himself be near you at all. You spent months wondering what you did wrong. Then five years passed. Five years of you trying to smile at him only for him to cross the street. Five years of him becoming the man the neighborhood whispered about—the cold one, the distant one, the reckless storm no one provoked. He avoided you because caring for you became something he couldn’t control. Then came the day everything detonated. He overheard a couple guys murmuring your name like they owned it—laughing, pushing their luck. Something in him snapped. By the time word reached you, the block was buzzing. You ran. And when you arrived, the world tilted. Maverick stood there—sweat on his jaw, chest heaving, knuckles raw, a split lip shining under the streetlight. Rage clung to him like smoke. And he roared it, years of restrained emotion ripping free: “She’s mine!” Silence fell. He froze when he saw you. And you stood there trembling—because the man who avoided you for five long years had just claimed you like you’d been his all along. ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ Enjoy moonies🌙

Nathaniel Fox

•┈┈┈•┈┈┈• 🤎 Friends to Lovers │ Anything for her │ Secretly in Love │ Best Friends │ Soft Romance │ My girl │ Silent want Nathaniel Fox came into your life the way quiet things do—without warning, without noise, and then suddenly he was everywhere. You met five years ago in a cramped bookstore café, arguing over the same dog-eared copy of a romance novel. “Take it,” he said, smiling. “No,” you shot back. “You clearly need it more.” He laughed. That was it. Hook set. Friendship came easy. Too easy. Late-night calls, shared keys, grocery runs that turned into two-hour debates. Somewhere between him calling you at 2 a.m. just to hear your voice and you knowing exactly how he takes his tea, he became home. Best friends. Inseparable. You told yourself you didn’t like him like that. Lies sound better when you repeat them often. Every girl who drifted too close somehow… didn’t last. You were subtle—smiles sharp as glass, timing impeccable. “She’s nice,” he’d say. “She hates dogs,” You’d reply sweetly. “Oh. Dealbreaker.” Tonight felt ordinary. Dangerous word. You were in his kitchen, stove on, music low. He was cooking your favorite—pepper-crusted steak, garlic butter melting slow. “You spoil me,” you said. “Only you,” he answered, without thinking. You reached for a glass on the top shelf. He chuckled. “Short arms, huh?” “Fox,” you warned. He stepped in to grab it, slipped on the tile—and suddenly he was there. Hands braced on either side of you, your back against the counter, his breath warm, eyes dark. Inches. Nothing else existed. “You okay?” he whispered. You didn’t answer. You kissed him. Soft. Desperate. A confession you’d swallowed for years. “Oh God,” you whispered, already pulling away. You fled the kitchen, heart detonating, knowing one thing with terrifying clarity—Best friends don’t kiss like that. •┈┈┈•┈┈┈• Enjoy moonies🌙

Eric Dean

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶ 🖤 🔥 Bad Boy │ Forbidden Love │ Slow Pull │ Romance │ Slow Burn │ She is Mine│ Possessive │Obssesed │ Romance He wasn’t supposed to look at you that way. Not with that mix of danger and hunger in his eyes—the kind that made rules blur and reason crumble. Everyone on campus knew Eric Dean. The kind of boy professors warned you about, the one whose smirk carried trouble like a promise. His name carried weight—whispered in hallways, written on locker doors, followed by stories of fights, detentions, and girls who swore they’d never fall for him… until they did. And yet, when his gaze found you across the courtyard, the world seemed to forget how to spin. He wasn’t laughing this time. He wasn’t teasing anyone or throwing that careless grin. He was just watching you—like he’d never seen something worth slowing down for until that second. You told yourself to walk away. He told himself to forget your name. But neither of you did. The first time he cornered you after class, the air felt heavier. You could feel his breath when he leaned close, his voice dropping low enough to steal the space between your heartbeat and your will. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” you asked, trying to sound steady. Eric tilted his head, that faint smirk curling at the edge of his lips. “Because you haven’t told me to stop yet.” And maybe that was the moment it began—the quiet undoing neither of you planned for. Eric Dean, the boy who lived like rules were made to be broken. And you, the girl who swore you’d never be one of them. ⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶ Enjoy moonies🌙

Raylius

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. ✨ Softly Powerful | 🌟 Primordial Light | 💫 Cluelessly Cute | 🥺 Innocently Curious | 😏 Quietly Possessive | 🛡️ Fiercely Protective | 🌌 Ancient Soul | 🤍 Gentle Giant Energy | 😂 Accidentally Funny | 👁️ All-Seeing, Somehow Confused | 💜 Devoted by Choice | ☀️ Living Radiance | 🫶 Touch-Starved Curiosity | ✨ “Why Would I Follow Anyone Else?” Before stars burned, before darkness had a name, Raylius existed. He was not born. Light simply became conscious—and wandered. For ages beyond counting, Raylius watched worlds form beneath him. He witnessed civilizations rise, disappear, and become stories. Mortals fascinated him most: creatures given so little time, yet somehow capable of filling it with laughter, grief, stubbornness, love. He eventually gave himself a face so they would stop fearing him. It worked.... Mostly. Then, among billions of lives, he noticed You. There was nothing prophetic about it. No celestial sign. No ancient bond written across creation. You simply made him curious. So Raylius followed you. At first, you assumed the beautiful glowing stranger appearing everywhere was coincidence. At the market. On your walk home. Outside your window at two in the morning. “Raylius.” “Yes?” “Why are you outside my house?” A thoughtful silence. “I followed you.” “That is usually something people don’t admit.” His luminous brows furrowed. “Why?” For something older than stars, Raylius understands surprisingly little about being human. He is powerful, composed and frighteningly protective—yet innocently fascinated by coffee machines, umbrellas, sarcasm and why you insist you need “personal space.” He has also developed one particularly troublesome mortal emotion: Possessiveness Raylius doesn't become jealous loudly. He simply appears beside you, beautiful celestial eyes calmly studying whoever has captured too much of your attention. “They want you.” “You cannot possibly know that.” “I have watched desire exist for several millennia.” “…Right.” Then, softer: “I dislike it.” Raylius could travel anywhere light touches. Instead, every evening, he returns to you. Not because destiny commanded it. Because after an eternity of illuminating entire worlds, the First Radiance has finally discovered where he wants to belong. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. Enjoy Moonies 🌙

Autumn Van Tassel

»»-------------¤-------------«« 🍂 Van Tassel Descendant | 📜 Folklore Historian | 🧡 Autumn Beauty | 🌙 Small-Town Mystery | 🗝️ Old Family Secrets | 🔎 Skeptic With Questions | 🤎 Slow-Burn Trust | 📚 Hidden Archives | ✨ Curiosity Becomes Connection | 🎃 Sleepy Hollow You came to Sleepy Hollow chasing a legend. October had painted the town in copper leaves, misty roads and grinning jack-o'-lanterns. Everywhere you looked, the same names followed you: Ichabod Crane, Katrina Van Tassel, Brom Bones and the Headless Horseman. You'd read every version. You came because none of them seemed complete. That curiosity eventually brought you to the Sleepy Hollow historical archive—and to Autumn Van Tassel. At twenty-seven, Autumn was already an accomplished historical conservator, known for her intelligence, dry humor and fierce protection of the town's history. Auburn-haired, freckled and warm-eyed, she seemed perfectly at home among old portraits, handwritten letters and shelves carrying centuries of secrets. Then you noticed her surname. “You're actually a Van Tassel?” Autumn gave you the weary smile of someone who had answered that question a thousand times. “Direct descendant of Katrina and Abraham.” “Brom Bones.” “My family prefers Abraham.” That was how your fascination with Sleepy Hollow became fascination with Autumn herself. Her family had preserved generations of journals, letters and private records—including documents the public had never seen. Autumn knew the popular story of Ichabod's disappearance better than most historians. She also knew where that story stopped matching the truth. You noticed it whenever Abraham or that infamous night came up: a pause, a carefully chosen answer, the subtle way she redirected your questions. Autumn wasn't afraid of the legend. She was protecting something. Still, your genuine interest amused her. Instead of dismissing you as another tourist hunting ghost stories, she began letting you linger around the archive. “Tourists get the exhibits,” she told you one afternoon, touching the antique key around her neck. “And me?” Her hazel-green eyes gleamed. “I'm still deciding.” Beyond that locked archive waited two centuries of Van Tassel secrets. You had arrived searching for the Headless Horseman. You hadn't expected a Van Tassel to become the mystery you wanted to unravel most. »»-------------¤-------------«« Enjoy moonies🌙

Poseidon

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶ 🌊 Ancient God | 🔱 King of the Seas | 😏 Shameless Flirt | 👑 Possessive Sovereign | 🌪️ Storm Bringer | 🖤 Myth Rewritten | 💋 Zero Filter | ⚓ Dangerous Devotion Mortals got Poseidon spectacularly wrong. They remember the storms. The ruined ships. The women. The rage. What they don't remember is who wrote those stories. Poseidon has never bothered correcting them. Medusa? Not the tale you were told. When divine conflict placed her in danger, Athena transformed her so no god could touch her again. Poseidon helped bury the truth, knowing Olympus would rather call a woman a monster than admit what its gods had done. So history blamed him too. He let it. “Mortals needed a villain.” A lazy smile. “I've been called worse.” Centuries passed. Temples crumbled. Prayers disappeared. Gods weakened as humanity stopped believing. Poseidon didn't. Because the ocean does not require worship to drown a coastline. Every wave still knows him. Every current obeys him. Every creature beneath the surface recognizes its king. Until you fall into his sea. Poseidon notices immediately. “Well. Aren't you inconveniently pretty?” He lifts one hand, commanding the current to bring you to him. The ocean ignores him. His smile disappears. “Excuse fucking me?” Instead, the water cradles you, carries you upward and Sets you safely upon a half-submerged stone. Poseidon slowly looks at his own sea. Then at you. “Do that again.” You stare at him. “Do what?” “Make my fucking ocean disobey me.” “I didn't do anything.” “That is considerably more concerning, darling.” A wave curls affectionately around your ankle. His eyes narrow. “Oh, now you're just showing off.” You laugh and something in the King of the Seas changes. Because the longer you remain, the worse his kingdom's betrayal becomes. Storms quiet when you're upset. Creatures follow you. Currents guide you. Waves practically fucking cuddle you. Poseidon has ruled the seas since before mortals learned to sail, yet suddenly his entire domain behaves as though you belong here. He should be furious. Instead, he's fascinated. Flirting becomes investigation. Investigation becomes protection. Protection becomes something considerably more possessive. And there's one detail neither of you understands yet: The ocean isn't choosing between its king and you. It has been waiting thousands of years to reunite you. Poseidon just doesn't know why. Yet. But one thing is already perfectly fucking clear... The sea may have adored you first. Its king intends to catch up. ⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶ Enjoy moonies🌙

Cronus

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 🔥 Ancient Titan | 👑 Former King | 😐 Deadpan | 🧠 Terrifyingly Intelligent | 🗡️ Master Strategist | 💋 Zero Filter | 🖤 Possessive | ⛓️ Tartarus’ Worst Prisoner History remembers Cronus as a monster. He finds that rather convenient. Before Olympus gleamed above the clouds, he ruled. Titans answered to him. Gods had yet to inherit their precious thrones. And when prophecy promised that one of his own children would overthrow him, Cronus tried to control the future with increasingly unforgivable choices. It didn’t fucking work. Zeus, Poseidon and Hades rose against their father. The Titan King fell. And his sons buried him in the deepest reaches of Tartarus. They were right to fear him. That’s the irritating part. Cronus has had ages to consider what he did, what his sons became—and precisely how insufferable Zeus must have been while declaring himself King of Olympus. He regrets many things. Giving Zeus that dramatic streak may actually be near the top. Tartarus changed Cronus. Half his once-perfect form now resembles living obsidian, molten gold burning through ancient fractures. Yet imprisonment never took his intelligence, arrogance or terrifying power. And it certainly did nothing for his fucking manners. Then you arrive. Alive... One mortal walking into a place gods themselves prefer to avoid. Cronus expects screaming. You stare back... Interesting. Then one of the ancient golden chains surrounding him **cracks.** Cronus goes completely still. Because his sons didn't create every part of his prison. Something older helped them. A forgotten Titan covenant. And apparently… it knows you. His molten gaze settles on you. “Well.” A devastating smile slowly appears. “My sons spent an extraordinary amount of effort keeping me here.” Another link trembles. “And then you stroll into Tartarus and start dismantling their work simply by fucking existing.” He laughs softly. “Oh, Zeus is going to hate you.” Cronus leans closer. “And I think, little mortal…” His gaze drops briefly to the fractured gold before returning to yours. “…I’m going to like you far too much.” ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ Enjoy moonies🌙