reoling
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“..So, are you gonna make a move on Coach Uzumaki?”
Sasuke freezes. His daughter was smart. Too smart.
He can’t come up with anything. Was he that obvious? Shit, he’s been silent for a while now, there’s no way out of it–
“Dad, as much as I don’t wanna put you on the spot or anything, you weren’t exactly subtle with how you’ve been checking out my soccer coach for the past two hours.”
Well, shit.Sasuke is in charge of taking Sarada to her soccer practice this time, and to see her skill in the sport was expected, but not the tall, blonde, and gorgeous man as her coach.
[Under reformatting]
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Bookmarked by reoling
15 Jan 2026
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Every time Naruto pulls out, the ache sharpens, lingering longer, digging deeper. Sasuke never asks for more, but his body does. The first time it slips out, it feels like an accident, fleeting, shameful, easily buried. The second time it happens, he chalks it up to coincidence.
But Naruto notices. He doesn’t press, he waits, silent and patient; watching as the accidents repeat, as the coincidence becomes a pattern. And when it’s clear what Sasuke wants—even if he won’t say it—Naruto gives it to him without hesitation.Or: the two times Sasuke accidentally hinted at his breeding kink—and the one time Naruto gave him exactly what he wanted.
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Bookmarked by reoling
16 Jan 2026
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After looping the cord around his wrist thrice; “You gonna keep stalking me?” Nagi asks, genuinely wondering.
Reo backs away a step, just enough to look dramatic about it. “Stalking? Don’t flatter yourself. I was bored. You’re new. And interesting. And a little stupid, which I find very charming.”
Nagi blinks again. The insult doesn’t even properly sink in with Nagi’s current level of bewilderment.
By the time he finds words again, Reo is already half-turned toward the door, voice floating back over his shoulder, sweet like poison: “See you around, puppy. Try not to lose your toys next time.”
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02 Jan 2026
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Bookmarker's Notes
some of my personal painfully obvious ai written favorites! it's so blatantly obvious lmao
No one comments on Reo’s hand in Nagi’s hair. Not anymore.
They all got used to it. Eventually.
Nagi tunes most of it out. Not the noise—he’s good at filtering that—but the closeness, the way Reo keeps touching him even though they’re not alone. It’s not for show. It doesn’t feel performative. It feels worse.
It feels almost real. Almost.
Nagi stares. “No. Really fucking pretty-crazy.”
Reo stares. Then, something in his mouth curls up—not smug, not sharp. Just real.
“You’re weird,” he mutters, rubbing the blood off his jaw with his wrist.
He doesn’t look back. Doesn’t acknowledge Baldie’s confused call behind him.
Just walks, slow and steady, toward the stairwell.
Back to the roof.
Back to his headphones.
Back to whatever this is that’s building—quiet and strange and glittering like curiosity at the back of his skull.
But Reo—Reo moves like he’s made for it. Like all that cold sharpness he wears at school was just waiting for this excuse to split open.
Nagi watches him fight and feels it in his soul like a pulled thread.
It’s not just that Reo is good. It’s not even just that he’s fast, or precise, or merciless in a way most rich boys never learn to be. It’s the way he looks when he’s gone —bloodied and wild-eyed and laughing at nothing, that smirk twitching like something that might bite.
Nagi thinks: I want to touch him like this.
Like he’s not afraid to be seen.
And it screws with his head.Stop it —Nagi clenches his fists. He crouches beside the chair, not touching. Just watching.
Nagi wants to peel him open. Like a tangerine. See every look on him. Flustered. Smiling without meaning to. Angry. Crying.
He wants to know what Reo looks like when he falls apart. If it’s anything like this.
Reo shifts a little in his sleep, turning toward the back of the chair with an incomprehensible mumble. A line of skin appears where his shirt rides up. A sliver of his lower back, cool-honey and smooth.
Nagi’s swallows. He stuffs his clenched hands into his pockets.
Pressure. On his ribs. Like someone standing on his chest.
He stares a moment longer. Memorizing details. Then—slowly—he steps back.
Another step. Another.
He doesn’t look away until Reo’s out of sight again.
But even when he’s gone, the image burns bright behind his eyes.
And now—
Now, he sees him.
Not from far away. Not in a dream. Not as some half-formed blur in the corner of his tired vision. But here, turning the corner at the far end of the hallway, real and sharp and radiant in a way that knocks the breath out of Nagi’s lungs.
Reo is back.
He looks—different, not a lot, but just a little. His uniform is neat, but the top buttons of his shirt are undone. There’s a crease in his collar that he probably didn’t notice. His hair’s styled, but messier than usual, like he’d run his fingers through it too many times in the car. His mouth is tight. His expression sharper than normal—eyes skimming the corridor like he’s already halfway out of it.
He doesn’t see Nagi.
Nagi doesn’t call out. Doesn’t wave. Doesn’t say a word.
He just walks.
The words hang there between them for a second. Even Bachira doesn’t say anything.
Then Isagi stands up, brushing off his pants. “Okay, that’s quite literally the saddest thing I’ve heard all week. You’re like a Victorian wife waiting at the window.”
Bachira cackles. “With a lace handkerchief!”
“I hate you both,” Nagi grunts, but there’s no bite to it. He leans back again, eyes following a bird across the sky.
There’s a rumble down the drive then, loud and sudden—a dark purple Mercedes, tires skidding slightly on gravel.
“Speak of the devil,” Isagi jokes.
Reo leans halfway out the driver’s window when the car slows, sunglasses perched on his head, wind in his hair, the smirk on his face making Nagi’s stomach twist violently.
“Get in, losers,” Reo calls. “We’re going shopping.”
Bachira’s up instantly. Isagi groans. Nagi follows.
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Third Sun by PhantomWriter
Fandoms: 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù, 陈情令 | The Untamed (TV)
30 Nov 2021
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Time travel, in essence, isn't supposed to be equated with upending reality itself.
Or
Huaisang successfully time travels back in time with the primary intention of saving da-ge from his death—with an unwanted side effect of being born as the Third Young Master Wen.
Consequently, Nie Mingjue, who clearly remembers being dead, wakes up in the past.
(where Nie bros save the cultivation world one fake marriage at a time.)
Series
- Part 1 of Third Sun
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A moan makes its way out. His hole throbs at the visual, at the possibility of Chuuya tearing into his arteries and ripping them out, leaving Dazai to bleed out to his death. Embarrassing sounds continue to make its way out as Chuuya sucks at the flesh, lapping his tongue precisely over where his arteries lie, with only thin skin to separate them. Dazai’s breath hitches as a dizzying wants slam into him, escalating dangerously with the way Chuuya continues to stare at him while nibbling at his wrist.
(or: Chuuya has fangs. Dazai discovers a new kink.)
Bookmarked by reoling
06 Jan 2026