compulsvereader
compulsvereader.bsky.social
compulsvereader
@compulsvereader.bsky.social
240 followers 32 following 190 posts
20+, she/hers, multi-shipper, SQH is my poor little meow meow. threadfics oftentimes nsfw 🔞. professional binghua converter.
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into him & clinging to it desperately whenever it pulls back just to drive forward even deeper.

at this rate his hole probably won’t be able to close for hours after this & that shouldn’t make him blurt pre-come like a faucet but it does, shit, he’s gonna feel this for days.
sqh is given no time to adjust before his gut-rearranging session commences.

he holds onto his pillow for dear life as his ass taken to task. harsh ungh! unghs! escape his hanging mouth as he’s pounded, his hole stretched to its very limit, simultaneously trying to push out the intrusion plunging
his phone buzzes restlessly beside his braced elbows. he must be making a racket. nerveless fingers wake up his screen, reading a typo-riddled, ‘are you okay?’ from sy before broad hips are flush to his ass. sqh cries out & hears a familiar voice mirror him. get it, cucumber bro! he thinks.
the unbearable tightness dissipates for a second, stars still bursting in the corner of sqh’s eyes. then he is empty, so empty, the plug pulled out in one tug, & suddenly something much thicker is cramming itself inside, goddamn, is he being fucked by a coke can?

he tries to breathe through it.
oh, he is so fucked. his admirer is getting sloppier w/ each thrust, glancing his hole every other push, leaking all over his lower back, dripping between his ass cheeks & making everything slippery until—the crown pops in.

sqh shouts. the plug! the guy didn’t take out his plug yet!
sy’s is right on the money though. he’s a total size queen.

which is why sqh doesn’t understand why this monster dick is rubbing against him instead, the leaking tip leaving a wet trail up to his belly button, pulling back to slip between his cheeks, the flesh encasing that hot, throbbing shaft.
next to each hole is a sign w/ their age, faces, & a short bio mostly consisting of their kinks. his boss wrote his, eager to get him out on the floor, so it includes corny shit like ‘likes to be bullied’ & ’cum in this servant, please.’ it’s made for quite a few nights of back pain & tummy aches.
while sy is being fondled, sqh is sucking down the leftover ice in his drink, streaming a low-budget c-drama for ‘research.’

he nearly chokes when something long & thick slaps his hole. holy fuck, ease a guy in! sqh thinks balefully, wheezing.

he knew he should’ve updated his hole placard.
he’s surprised when a hand rests on his half-chub. when did he get hard? his cheeks flame at the reminder of his nudity. has this guy been staring at him this entire time, watching his cock slowly fill?

sy squirms, face hot, as a slick tightness—the curl of a fist?—engulfs him.
he doesn’t even tense when the massage travels to his ankles, loosening his tight calves, lingering at the hinge of his knees.

he thinks if his legs weren’t already held open the chains on his ankles they’d be parting from sheer relaxation. his thighs are next to be stroked & caressed.
is, is someone seriously massaging his feet right now? what kind of freaks frequent this place? & how did they get so—sy’s toes wiggle dexterous thumbs dig into his arch, rubbing tiny circles up & down his soles.

despite himself, he can feel the tension bleeding out of him.
sy’s only brought his switch at sqh’s insistence.

still, it’s not like he can focus, on edge waiting for fingers to brush his inner thighs or a hand to settle heavily on his hip he can’t believe he let airplane talk him into this. first of all, he’s straight. second—who’s touching his foot?!
sqh’s cubby is decorated like a cubicle. posters all over the walls, mini fan pointing at his face, pillow to support his chest, & a fruity cocktail he drinks thru a straw while typing the latest chapter of pidw on his laptop. he’s done this a couple times when he’s been really strapped for cash.
the wall between them is thick enough they text each other from within the little cubbies that encase their top halves but also thin enough they can hear every moan & whimper the other makes.

their first shift at the ass wall—do you HAVE to call it that, airplane—is a slow night.
suspend your disbelief for a moment & imagine. . . sy & sqh in neighboring glory holes. specifically the kind where your bottom half sticks out. sy‘s has him on his back, legs up, like the pillow princess he is & sqh is the traditional ass out, legs spread pose.
Reposted by compulsvereader
You know the scene in ocean's 8 where ann hathaway joins the heist crew bc she doesn't have any female friends and hates book clubs. that's my vision of modern au sha hualing
Reposted by compulsvereader
this is when sqh created a plan to escape which he then kept pushing it back in favor of getting pounded into next week

“i’ll escape after i suck him off. i can’t leave my king with blue balls!“

“okay maybe after he finishes eating me out”

“……alright i can’t NOT fuck him his dick is massive—“
🔞 as if sensing his thoughts, sqh pulls off with a lewd slurp. he is dew-lashed & red-lipped. mbj’s hips twitch with the effort to not chase after him.

“my king,” he mewls between kitten licks at mbj’s crown. “i want you to knot my mouth.”

mbj blacks out.
thank you! i did not expect the moshang to come flowing out today
mbj will clear things up for him.

mbj is one of the best hunters in the kingdom. & sqh cannot evade him forever. mbj does not plan on coming back empty-headed a second time.
mbj needs to return to the northern desert.

there he will announce his engagement, along with his intention to hunt down his bride. if sqh had indicated he had no interest in mbj then maybe he would've let him go. as it stands, sqh is suffering from a misconception about mbj's feelings for him.
by the time mbj is able to move, discovered by his most hated servant, he is in a foul mood that is worsened by the knowledge that sqh is long-gone. if he can scavenge a weapon from one of mbj’s kills while in the throes of passion then he will be impossible to find hiding in familiar territory.
he tries to return the kiss, to beg the fox demon to stay, wrap his arms around him so he can never leave. but mbj can only lie there as sqh pulls away.

“goodbye, my king.”

sqh’s words & sqh himself are lost in the wind that rushes into the tent as he slips through the flap.
sqh adds in a bitter tone, “or maybe that’s how you treat all your partners.”

“but i’m grateful for it. along with the opportunity to escape.” sqh leans down to place one last, lingering kiss on mbj’s lips.