can I suggest III finding you awake at like 3 AM because of a nerve pain (massive self insert ik) of your choice and figuring out how to get you to fall asleep,,,
hehe hellooooo!
thank you for the suggestion! i am no stranger to a self insert lmao i get you 😭
but on a side note i'm so sorry you are struggling with that, it sounds really painful :(
my mom has carpal tunnel so that's kind of what i used as a reference for nerve pain since it's what is most familiar to me, i also did some research so hopefully i got it right.
but anyways here you go! i hope i got it right, i'm so sorry if i didn't 😅
cw; just fluff!
Exhaustion was a word that barely skimmed the surface as to what you were feeling. It felt like someone had drained the color and life from your body. Getting good sleep on the tour bus was hard enough as it is, the constant tingling and occasional ache in your wrists didn’t do much to help either. You can’t remember the last time a good nights rest had found you. It could have been days, even weeks, you had no idea.
You didn’t complain though, because that’s how touring went, it’s what you signed up for. You didn’t complain about the swelling and numbness in your wrists either, you didn’t say a word about it because that’s what happens when you stress about everything and spend hours practicing the music, only to go on stage and play the music again, and to then do it the next day and then the next and so on.
Maybe you were dumb for practicing too much, but you thought you'd look even more dumb if you stood on that stage in front of thousands of people like a deer in headlights because you forgot the chords. So you kept your mouth shut, icing your wrists and hands every night to reduce the swelling and kept playing and practicing, ignoring the sharp stabs of pain.
After tossing and turning for what seemed like hours, you gave up on the idea of sleeping. Touring was never easy, it was hard to fall asleep on the road thanks to potholes, snoring bandmates, and the jerking stops at gas stations. The humming of the tires on the asphalt worked as white noise, and you had to admit, it was a little cozy, but you always found yourself yearning for your bed.
Luckily you had the bottom bunk so you were able to slide out of bed easily without waking the others. You wrapped yourself in your blanket, grabbed your phone and shuffled down the messy hallway, thanks to IV and III who leave their shit everywhere, and made your way to the small couch, flopping down face first. The coolness of the leather felt good on your skin, almost relaxing if it wasn't for the uncomfortable feeling in your hands.
You knew you should put ice on your wrists, or stretch them, or take pain killers or something, but you couldn't find a fuck to give. You were exhausted to the point where being reasonable was no longer an ability you had. So instead, you rolled to your side and pulled your phone out, groaning at the sight of the alarm clock displaying the numbers 3:16am, and opened up Netflix to watch some stupid show, wrapping yourself in your fuzzy blanket.
The distraction helped, kind of, but your hands still tingled, and the pain only came if you tried to pick something up or use your hands in any way, but it was still uncomfortable. Rustling came from the direction of the bunks, which you ignored and continued watching whatever you put on your phone. You heard someone use the bathroom but didn't care to look, you were too tired to check, let alone care.
“Why are you up?” a groggy voice whispered, you lazily glanced up to see a half awake III rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
“Why are you up?” you replied, directing your attention back to your phone.
“I was taking a piss” he mumbled, padding over to the couch to loom over you.
“If you are here to torment me, I am not in the mood” you hissed, curling your legs up to your chest. III took it as an invitation to sit next to you, which was not what you had intended, but you still let him.
“Why are you up” he asked again, giving your leg a gentle tap.
“Can’t sleep, my hands have been killing me” you muttered dryly, ignoring his presence.
“Probably ‘cause you don’t ever put that guitar down” III hummed. He reached over and wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling it towards him, causing you to wince.
“sorry—” he mumbled under his breath, reaching over to switch a lamp on. With the light on he examined your hand with a gentleness that was rare from him, “You need to give your hands a break, stop practicing for so long, I don’t want to see you hurt.”
“That’s new” You huffed.
“Shut up, I'm serious.”
III set your hand back down and stood up, walking over to the small fridge and opened the freezer, pulling out an ice pack that II usually used on his knees post show, and a water bottle. He then opened one of the few small cabinets and grabbed what you assumed to be painkillers.
“Here” III ordered, presenting the pills like it was a gift.
“Thanks” you replied, popping them into your mouth and washing it down with water.
To your surprise, he sat back down next to you and turned your phone off, pulling you up so you were nestled against his side, and started stretching and massaging one of your hands, putting an ice pack on the other. You expected it to hurt, but it felt amazing.
“Better or worse?” III questioned, tucking a piece of hair behind you ear.
“Better” you hummed contently, letting your body relax against him, “but why—III, what are you doing? I don’t want to keep you up”
“Just go to sleep, I'll be fine” he assured you, dryly, and continued to ease the tension from your hands, pausing briefly so he could pull your blanket over you.
You barely managed to mumble a ‘thank you’ before falling into a much needed sleep.
I know people say that Vessel moves around alot cause its a technique or something that helps with longer performance..
But then it just clicked. .. Man was a mosher.
His dancy dance and trying to tumble with III make so much sense now lol. Poor bro cant join the pit and partake in the sweet violence when he is the performer so he pace, jigs and/or bother the guys instead. 🤣🤣🤣
More whoreshipposting because I have been inspired (FtM centric) NSFW
- III keeps track of what day you do your T shot because he knows you're going to be so pathetically horny and restless in a couple hours to a day, and he *will* use this to his advantage. He looves watching you squirm when you're trying to act casual in his bed even though you'd much rather be doing more than just cuddling. It's not like you can help it though, can you? It's only polite for III to make you cum until you finally fall asleep.
- III also has big scary dog energy. You can bring him to any appointment with a doctor you don't like and he'll intimidate them into doing their job.
- If you're recovering from top surgery or you're just particularly short, III will also help you get everything you need from the high shelf and move any heavy items, even if it's really something you could do yourself. He likes to be tall, ok? He acts similar if you get bottom surgery too. Will professionally consult the aesthetics of your dick. (He approves)
- IV is always the first one to help you with your shot if you need, since he's the most comfortable around needles. He's noticed that you've started to smell different and it's making him insane. He's hoarding your clothes even if they don't fit him. Wants you to sit on his face sooo bad.
- IV will also introduce you to every trans person he knows when you come out. He really wants you to feel welcome, might even make you a cake or something cheesy like that.
- If you're on your period, Vessel is going to be constantly hovering over you like a large bird, making your favorite food and drinks, running you a bath, rubbing your back. He's also very much not opposed to eating you out and is very Normal about blood, but would be disastrously shy about asking you if he could the first time.
- Vessel is also a clingy little shit. IDK what to tell you. 50/50 chance he's already curled up in the middle of your bed before you get ready to sleep. Complains whenever you ask him to move so you have enough space because he's soooo cozy and you're so mean.
- II has never actually dated a trans guy before, so he's secretly nervous about not knowing enough or fucking things up. The first time you have sex, it's quite obvious he has no fucking idea what he's doing if you have a vulva. (His ass can't find the clit /j/j/j) "Is this okay?" "Am I hurting you??" Absolutely humbling experience for him. Everything feels kind of strange but also kind of fantastic.
- II can somehow instantly tell when you're dysphoric. Already giving you his hoodies or tops he's stolen from the other vessels. Will literally do pharmacy runs so that you don't have to go outside when it's too hot to bind.
Thinking about the vessels doing my t-shot for me... (NSFW)
I think iii would come up and kneel in front of me, stripping my pants off and pulling my thigh up over his shoulder, claiming he needs to inspect how much I'm growing, how sensitive I'm getting. Start touching me, playing with me gently, tugging and thumbing at the head and pulling back the hood, ducking down to lick at me, see if I taste any different than the last time. All to distract me from Ivy coming up and wiping down my thigh, squeezing my muscle in his hand and sticking me quick and dirty. iii holds me tight and firm so I don't squirm for Ivy, and once it's done, Ivy smooths a cute bandaid over it for me and joins iii on the floor to kiss it in apology for the deception. iii makes me cum on his tongue for his part of the apology and Ivy kisses my taste off his lips while they're both still between my thighs, letting me enjoy the view.
ii would've gotten me the week before, coming up behind me to lean me over the table or desk. He rucked my shirt up and pulled down my waistband, settling a firm hand at the arch of my spine so I knew he meant business and not to move until he told me. He used the other to swab the top of my ass clean, pinched my cheek in his grip and stabbed me neatly, cap of the needle between his teeth. He safetied the sharp and smoothed a cute bandaid over the spot he injected me, letting his fingers drift down the curve of my hip bone to my front and down my boxers, petting me in reward for staying so still and being good for him. His other hand came up to my throat to pull me back into him so he could kiss my temple and whisper praise in my ear while I shuddered in his arms.
Vess gets me the week after, completely unsubtle about it. He ties me up, makes sure the position my arms are in stays relaxed but binds me curled up around him otherwise. Maybe even puts himself inside me so he can feel me clench down on him in anticipation. He wants to watch the small fear in my face, the way I flinch and then relax into it, especially for him. He swabs my arm, feeling me tense up against my own will at the smell and he's chuckling even while he shushes me like a wild animal. He pinches my bicep, nails digging in just a little more than they really need to and inserts the needle slow so he can savor it. Watches me blink and then my pupils dilate, tells me to look at him, only him so he can catch all of it. He pushes the plunger, the T thick in the syringe, and his smile gets a little toothier when my muscle flexes under his palm involuntarily as the liquid infuses into my flesh. The plunger meets the syringe flush, and he's almost disappointed it's over already. He pulls it from my skin, wiping up the dot of blood that appears after, sorely tempted to taste it but knows that's not the best idea because of the T. Instead he slaps a bandaid over the spot and leans down to bite my collar bone, groaning into my neck when I whimper and clench around him once more. He can't resist thrusting up into me anymore after that and he makes sure that we both get a taste of the pleasure that I let him take from me.
iii alone would just get me high probably, get it done and then make whatever munchie cravings I'm having as a reward before taking advantage of my relaxed state.
Ivy alone would probably sit on the couch with me while I'm lost in my phone or a game or something, pulling my legs into his lap and groping my thighs, letting his hands roam. He'd have the needle tucked behind his ear, the swab in his pocket. He'd pull it out, tear it open with his teeth, and wipe my leg down quick. He'd sling his arm over my hip to hold me down, squeeze the muscle, and stick me fast, growling a little, both to shush and soothe me. He'd smack my silly bandaid on for me then flip me face down into the couch and slap his hand into my ass, groping the rapidly red skin. He'd give me a good couple hits but end up not being able to resist leaning over me to bite into my scruff, grinding his dick against my tender ass until we both whine as we cum.
not feeling safe at home is just such a visceral violent thing and if you’ve ever experienced that I’m really sorry, you’re brave and strong and it’s gonna be okay
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
blakekathryn
discoholicmusic
gummygunk
turnnoffyourmind
titsay
