#dislocated shoulder tw

[purru]

Sleep First, Apologize Later

▷ Summary; It was a typical day for an adventuring party; ambush, guard duty, and hoping your allies would leave you alone

⚠️ content advisory: dislocated shoulder

Fandom: Original Characters (DnD)

Note #1: fill for day 4 of Whumptober - Hidden Injury

‎

“You coming with us, snake guy?”

“Yeah, come with us, Almond!” the halfling chimed in, ever so cheerful.

Inside the tent, Almond stopped petting his snake familiar. He looked at them, “I’ll pass.” The cleric and bard made disappointed noises. After wiping his sweat, Almond resumed petting Cotton. It hissed softly.

“But we’re celebrating with the others too! Thought you liked salted sturgeon,” the bard went on. He tried his best not to groan as he attempted to stand up, “That I do”. The bespectacled cleric interjected before he gave an explanation, “Aeros is already there, waiting. C'mon man.”

It was utterly tempting. The warlock did enjoy a post victory celebration, how it reminded him of his active duty for the Axe of Mirabar; a sense of camaraderie, impromptu games, and dramatic retelling of battle stories. Ignoring the throbbing pain on his right shoulder, he finally responded, “I’ll watch over our camp. You don’t want us getting ambushed again.”

His argument sounded convincing. They had just survived a deadly ambush while they were cruising the river that evening. With all of them running out of stamina to cast meaningful spells and Aeros injured when he stood in the front line, it was a miracle how the tide turned.

The bard was convinced, “Ah, okay then. Thank you, Almond. We’ll bring some leftovers.” The cleric not so much, but she didn’t say anything in which Almond was grateful for. He just wished them to leave him as soon as possible for the painful swelling on his left shoulder just pulsated harder the longer he heard them speak. “Let’s go Kana, don’t let Aeros wait for too long. He’ll brood,” the cleric smirked as she ushered the bard.

Almond appreciated it when they finally left him alone to regroup with Aeros. The warlock gritted his teeth as he slowly laid on the ground, using his bag for neck support. He didn’t even need to check on his wound under his multilayered robes; from his experience he could tell it was just a dislocated shoulder from getting thrown across the deck. The warlock was just regretting the fact that he’s planning to sleep as opposed to watching the camp as he had promised them. He would just cook up an excuse the morning after.

Cotton slithered next to his right palm and the warlock thanked the small comfort it offered. The familiar nuzzled up against his wrist before Almond closed his eyes, hoping slumber would carry him away soon.

All he needed was one night of undisturbed sleep.

‎

Note #2: yes, I'm making fun of dnd's logic where you regain all hit points once you've taken a long rest

Note #3: Kana (and Aeros) belong to @reinarandraw 

#whumptober2022 #no.4 #hidden injury #OC #fic #dislocated shoulder tw #dnd #my writing #oc: almond 🐍

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Wrong Bat

Winter Whumperland: Day 10. Abducted

Fandom: DC, Batman, Jason Todd, Red Hood, gn!reader

Summary: Someone discovers your boyfriend is part of the Batfamily so you are abducted and tortured for their identities. Too bad they didn't realize which Bat you were dating.

Word Count: 1229

TW: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Capture, Rescue, Slight Blood, Slight Beating, Shoulder Dislocation, Tied by Wrists to Ceiling, Mentions of Guns

Whack.

Your head snapped to the side as yet another blow slammed into your battered body, this time your face. You tasted blood as your lip split open, just another injury to add to your growing list. The chains that were suspending your arms above your head rattled as your momentum caused you to sway slightly with your bare toes dragging across the floor. Your shoulders were screaming out in pain but you refused to give your captures the satisfaction of crying or groaning. You just had to hold out a little longer….

The lead man, the one who introduced himself as Fisher, grinned as you lifted your head and he saw the blood running down your chin. “You had enough yet? Or do I have to mess that pretty face up even more?”

“Go to hell,” you growled.

Fisher muttered something to his men in a language you didn’t understand, but whatever it was made them all laugh. Turning back to you, he said, “Just one name and we will free you. It doesn’t have to be your bat boyfriend, any one of them will do. Tell us a single one of their true identities and I won’t have to keep hurting you.” 

Glaring daggers at the man before you, you hissed, “You idiots think you’re so smart using me as bait. But just wait until he comes for me. When he’s done, you’ll be lucky if you can even wipe your asses by yourself.”

Fisher pulled a long knife from his belt and twirled it playfully. “Oh yeah? And what’s he gonna do? Bust in here and hit us with his little sticks?”

The other men started to laugh again but the sound died down as they all saw the wide, bloody smile spreading across your lips. Spitting out a large glob of red-tinted saliva, you said, “Wrong bat, asshole. My boyfriend’s the one who uses guns.”

As if on cue, the glass ceiling above you shattered, and a large figure dropped heavily to the floor. Slowly rising up to his full height amongst the dust and debris caused by his entrance, Jason looked like your own personal demon rising from the depths of hell to rescue you. In some ways, it wasn’t a completely inaccurate description. 

“Hey, baby,” you said as he turned towards you. “Welcome to the party.”

Though Jason was wearing his helmet, you could feel his eyes scouring your body, cataloging each and every cut or bruise they had given you. You gave him a small nod to let him know you were okay but the rage emanating off of him was so intense it was almost a visible wave of fury. Giving you his own nod in return, he turned towards the men as he drew his guns.

You couldn’t see a lot of what was going on from your position, but you heard the screaming and gunfire. Cursing silently under your breath, you just hoped that Jason could restrain himself somewhat in his current rage-fueled rampage. The last thing either one of you needed was to deal with Bruce’s outrage over the death of one of these assholes. 

After a few minutes, the sounds began to dwindle until the room was mostly silent save for the occasional low moan of pain. Then you heard the familiar sound of heavy combat boots stalking in your direction and Jason’s helmet suddenly appeared before you. Slipping it off to reveal the small red domino mask underneath, he cupped your battered face in his hand.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked as he gently ran his thumb over the bruise on your cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you murmured, “I am now. Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Every time,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “But let’s not make this a habit, alright?”

You chuckled. “Aww, but I love seeing you in action.”

“Then watch the bodycam footage from the Batcave.” He dropped his hand and turned to examine the bodies strewn around the room. “Which one’s got the keys?”

You nodded your head towards Fisher. “Inside jacket pocket.” 

As Jason bent down and began digging through his pockets, Fisher started to raise his head with a groan. However, a quick punch to the face made him unconscious once more.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that,” you said as Jason returned to your side with the keys.

He didn’t respond as he unlocked your cuffs and you collapsed into his arms. Your legs felt numb after hanging for so long and Jason wrapped his arms around your waist while you regained your footing. Once you were able to take a few steps on your own, he slowly released you.

You tried rolling your shoulders but between the stiffness and pain, you quickly gave up that idea. However, Jason must have seen your expression because he reached out and ran his hand lightly over your shoulder. “Where’s it hurt?”

“Just all over. My shoulders are stiff from hanging like that for so long and I think the left one might be dislocated. Also, my ribs are pretty bruised, but I don’t think they’re broken.” You ran your fingers gently across your midsection and groaned 

Jason stepped closer and brushed his lips against the edge of your ear, “How about I take you home and give you one of my deep tissue massages? I’ll even use that expensive lotion that you like.”

You closed your eyes and hummed, “Mmm, don’t threaten me with a good time, mister. You know what your massages do to me.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” He nuzzled his nose deeper into your hair. “A deep massage, followed by a long bath together, and then we’ll see where the night takes us.”

“That sounds like Heave– AH!” you cried out as Jason suddenly grabbed your arm and shoved your shoulder back into place. However, the blinding pain only lasted a few seconds before fading to a dull ache, which was a huge improvement from moments before. “Thanks.”

Jason nodded. Reaching out, he swiped his thumb across your chin and when he removed it, you saw it was covered in blood. Jason stared down at it as he growled, “You have nothing to thank me for. I’m the reason you’re here in the first place.”

Grabbing his chin between your finger and thumb, you forced his head up so he was looking at you. “Hey, this wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I got sloppy and let someone see us together while you were in the suit. Then I wasn’t paying attention and let them grab me. I should’ve been more careful. But I’ll be fine, babe. Because you saved me. Okay?” He nodded softly and you released his face. “Good. Now take me home. I seem to remember you mentioning a back rub? And afterward, maybe I’ll think of some way of repaying you for saving me.”

Jason grinned. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.” Despite the split in your lip, you pressed your mouth against his. 

As he kissed you back, Jason pulled out his grappling gun with one hand and wrapped his other arm around your waist. Holding you tightly, he fired the gun and the two of you were lifted up out of the warehouse and into the night.

Taglist: @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @lolzghost, @thefictionalcharacterssimp, @venomsvl, @sugarysweetsandpainfulteeth, @your-friendly-neighborhood-al, @hellfire-fan-club, @blue-aconite

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #abducted #fic #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x gn!reader #gn!reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x gn!reader #batman #dc #dc x reader #dc x gn!reader #angst #hurt/comfort #hurt and comfort #shoulder dislocation tw

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Wrong Bat

Winter Whumperland: Day 10. Abducted

Fandom: DC, Batman, Jason Todd, Red Hood, gn!reader

Summary: Someone discovers your boyfriend is part of the Batfamily so you are abducted and tortured for their identities. Too bad they didn't realize which Bat you were dating.

Word Count: 1229

TW: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Capture, Rescue, Slight Blood, Slight Beating, Shoulder Dislocation, Tied by Wrists to Ceiling, Mentions of Guns

Whack.

Your head snapped to the side as yet another blow slammed into your battered body, this time your face. You tasted blood as your lip split open, just another injury to add to your growing list. The chains that were suspending your arms above your head rattled as your momentum caused you to sway slightly with your bare toes dragging across the floor. Your shoulders were screaming out in pain but you refused to give your captures the satisfaction of crying or groaning. You just had to hold out a little longer….

The lead man, the one who introduced himself as Fisher, grinned as you lifted your head and he saw the blood running down your chin. “You had enough yet? Or do I have to mess that pretty face up even more?”

“Go to hell,” you growled.

Fisher muttered something to his men in a language you didn’t understand, but whatever it was made them all laugh. Turning back to you, he said, “Just one name and we will free you. It doesn’t have to be your bat boyfriend, any one of them will do. Tell us a single one of their true identities and I won’t have to keep hurting you.” 

Glaring daggers at the man before you, you hissed, “You idiots think you’re so smart using me as bait. But just wait until he comes for me. When he’s done, you’ll be lucky if you can even wipe your asses by yourself.”

Fisher pulled a long knife from his belt and twirled it playfully. “Oh yeah? And what’s he gonna do? Bust in here and hit us with his little sticks?”

The other men started to laugh again but the sound died down as they all saw the wide, bloody smile spreading across your lips. Spitting out a large glob of red-tinted saliva, you said, “Wrong bat, asshole. My boyfriend’s the one who uses guns.”

As if on cue, the glass ceiling above you shattered, and a large figure dropped heavily to the floor. Slowly rising up to his full height amongst the dust and debris caused by his entrance, Jason looked like your own personal demon rising from the depths of hell to rescue you. In some ways, it wasn’t a completely inaccurate description. 

“Hey, baby,” you said as he turned towards you. “Welcome to the party.”

Though Jason was wearing his helmet, you could feel his eyes scouring your body, cataloging each and every cut or bruise they had given you. You gave him a small nod to let him know you were okay but the rage emanating off of him was so intense it was almost a visible wave of fury. Giving you his own nod in return, he turned towards the men as he drew his guns.

You couldn’t see a lot of what was going on from your position, but you heard the screaming and gunfire. Cursing silently under your breath, you just hoped that Jason could restrain himself somewhat in his current rage-fueled rampage. The last thing either one of you needed was to deal with Bruce’s outrage over the death of one of these assholes. 

After a few minutes, the sounds began to dwindle until the room was mostly silent save for the occasional low moan of pain. Then you heard the familiar sound of heavy combat boots stalking in your direction and Jason’s helmet suddenly appeared before you. Slipping it off to reveal the small red domino mask underneath, he cupped your battered face in his hand.

“Are you okay?” Jason asked as he gently ran his thumb over the bruise on your cheek.

Leaning into his touch, you murmured, “I am now. Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Every time,” he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. “But let’s not make this a habit, alright?”

You chuckled. “Aww, but I love seeing you in action.”

“Then watch the bodycam footage from the Batcave.” He dropped his hand and turned to examine the bodies strewn around the room. “Which one’s got the keys?”

You nodded your head towards Fisher. “Inside jacket pocket.” 

As Jason bent down and began digging through his pockets, Fisher started to raise his head with a groan. However, a quick punch to the face made him unconscious once more.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that,” you said as Jason returned to your side with the keys.

He didn’t respond as he unlocked your cuffs and you collapsed into his arms. Your legs felt numb after hanging for so long and Jason wrapped his arms around your waist while you regained your footing. Once you were able to take a few steps on your own, he slowly released you.

You tried rolling your shoulders but between the stiffness and pain, you quickly gave up that idea. However, Jason must have seen your expression because he reached out and ran his hand lightly over your shoulder. “Where’s it hurt?”

“Just all over. My shoulders are stiff from hanging like that for so long and I think the left one might be dislocated. Also, my ribs are pretty bruised, but I don’t think they’re broken.” You ran your fingers gently across your midsection and groaned 

Jason stepped closer and brushed his lips against the edge of your ear, “How about I take you home and give you one of my deep tissue massages? I’ll even use that expensive lotion that you like.”

You closed your eyes and hummed, “Mmm, don’t threaten me with a good time, mister. You know what your massages do to me.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.” He nuzzled his nose deeper into your hair. “A deep massage, followed by a long bath together, and then we’ll see where the night takes us.”

“That sounds like Heave– AH!” you cried out as Jason suddenly grabbed your arm and shoved your shoulder back into place. However, the blinding pain only lasted a few seconds before fading to a dull ache, which was a huge improvement from moments before. “Thanks.”

Jason nodded. Reaching out, he swiped his thumb across your chin and when he removed it, you saw it was covered in blood. Jason stared down at it as he growled, “You have nothing to thank me for. I’m the reason you’re here in the first place.”

Grabbing his chin between your finger and thumb, you forced his head up so he was looking at you. “Hey, this wasn’t your fault, it was mine. I got sloppy and let someone see us together while you were in the suit. Then I wasn’t paying attention and let them grab me. I should’ve been more careful. But I’ll be fine, babe. Because you saved me. Okay?” He nodded softly and you released his face. “Good. Now take me home. I seem to remember you mentioning a back rub? And afterward, maybe I’ll think of some way of repaying you for saving me.”

Jason grinned. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.” Despite the split in your lip, you pressed your mouth against his. 

As he kissed you back, Jason pulled out his grappling gun with one hand and wrapped his other arm around your waist. Holding you tightly, he fired the gun and the two of you were lifted up out of the warehouse and into the night.

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @11thstreetvigilante, @merlehs,@mayhem24-7forever, @sunshineflowerchild789, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @schaarfyx, @happinessricardotapia

#amow winter whumperland 2022 #abducted #fic #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x gn!reader #gn!reader #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x gn!reader #batman #dc #dc x reader #dc x gn!reader #angst #hurt/comfort #hurt and comfort #shoulder dislocation tw

[random-fandom-whump]

Supernatural S04E09 ↳ RFW's Favorite Supernatural Whump Moments

#supernatural #whumpedit #dean winchester #sam winchester #stitches #field care #gore tw #blood #dislocated shoulder #popping joints back into place #alochol as a disinfectant #pain #spitting blood #ep: i know what you did last summer #spn 4x09 #spn #favorite spn moments

[paradoxesofgalaxies]

I thought I might finally be able to do some embroidery today, but last night my right collarbone (which doesn't typically act up) popped out while closing a sliding door. Husband was able to reset it right away and it hadn't been hurting today so I thought it was fine but it's back out again and now my neck is acting up too ;;;-;;;

I want to embroider!! I want to paint!! I want my shoulders and collarbones to just stay where they're supposed to!!!

#also like what a pathetic way to fuck up my collarbone #my left one goes out pretty frequently but the right one is usually ok #then i remember that my shoulders didn't start dislocating I was transported in handcuffs and i get angry #ughhhh #galactic gab #vent tw #bone fuckery

[kevyeen]

did i tell you guys about that time i thought i'm a parkour god (i'm not) and jumped over a fence only to fall on my elbow and a) bust it open and b) dislocate my shoulder and c) laugh hysterically because our distraught principle was running towards me and her coat was bellowing after her dramatically while i was trying to not pass out as i lay on the floor?

it was on a school trip and the other side of the fence was two metres below of where i was jumping from and i didnt know.

i was 'parkouring' because i wanted to get on a swing in the playground. i was 16.

#i also was wearing a hoodie so no one saw the busted open part and i treated it myself bc i always carry first aid with me #especially back then because it was my first year at the red crescent #also it was very comical im sure bc i was on a schooltrip! so i had brought a cute umbrella for the shade #didnt think my limp shoulder was limp because of dislocation just thought it hurts just because #went to sleep when i got home and woke up in agony so my mom just sighed and took me to doctor #our family doctor hates me btw if you couldnt guess #kevtalks #injury tw

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 7 ~ Trust

Hidden Depths AU

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Genre: Fantasy whump

CWs: captivity, lady whump, nudity, dead bodies, shoulder dislocation, setting of said shoulder... painfully, blood, threats of harm and death, knife to throat, panic attack(s), mildly scrambled memories causing confusion and distress, very brief recounting of noncon (piecing memories together, non explicit)

WC: 2800

Taglist: @kixngiggles

A/N: BITCH CHAPTER I AM DONE WITH THEE

Seriously, I can't take any more of this chapter 😅 Can't say I'm entirely happy with it, but it's passable. I want to move on. I'm ready to move on. And the longer I have this thing, the more I'll change it and... no. I refuse. I KICKETH THEE TO THE CURB. Enjoy my insanity :D

Carr

It felt like waking from a dream. 

A really fucking awful dream. 

Her ears were no longer ringing, and her vision wasn’t fractured. She hurt, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as she remembered. 

Or thought she remembered. Carr blinked up at the white limestone ceiling. 

A pained cry split through the fuzzy feeling of unreality surrounding her, and she jerked up, only to bite her lip against the shock of injuries that turned out to be all too real. Her muscles felt like jelly, quivering with the strain of holding herself upright.

Propping herself on her elbow it would be, then. Had killing Marcus been a figment of her imagination? Had he finished with her and gone after Resh now? 

She scanned the room, heart thumping hard in her aching chest. Not Resh, she couldn’t… her eyes fell on the back of a man who should not be in this chamber. He was wearing dark brown breeches with a black jacket, and his not blond, not brown braid fell over his shoulder.  

He also had Resh pinned to the wall with a blade digging into his throat. Carr saw his arm tense, and a spike of terror turned her blood to ice. 

“Nykim, no!”  

A tremor passed through her when he paused. Oh gods, he’d almost slit Resh’s throat. What was he… why wasn’t he moving away? 

“Please, don’t kill him,” she whispered. 

Resh’s eyes flicked over to meet hers for a moment as Nykim slowly lowered his dagger. When he turned around, she thought she saw relief in his blue-gray eyes. Which confused her even more.  

“Did you just say please?” Nykim asked incredulously. 

Carr flushed. Surely she’d said please at least once before… 

“Why are you here?” she blurted. Like that was the most important question. Fuck, her brain felt scrambled. 

Nykim raised his eyebrows, and it was at that moment Carr remembered she was naked. She glanced down at herself. Yup, the coating of blood did nothing to disguise her breasts or the fact that she had nothing between her legs. Her next breath stuck in her throat, and she couldn’t quite meet Nykim’s eyes when she looked back up.   

“I…” Nothing would come out of her mouth. What could she say? I can explain? I’m sorry I deceived you for the last ten years? Please don’t kill me? She pressed her lips together instead. Her other arm crossed over her chest. Oh gods. 

Something like irritation crossed Nykim’s features, and she flinched when he moved. 

“For fuck’s sake, Carr,”–Nykim only shrugged out of his jacket–“Did you think I would leave you here indefinitely? I gave you time to get out yourself. I was tired of waiting.” He approached her, and she couldn’t stop herself. 

She flinched again. 

The corners of his mouth turned down, but all he did was drape the jacket over her. Carr clutched it to her chest.

“You should lay back down, Carr. You have a lot of injuries. I’ll get you out of here in a moment.” 

She did, and they hurt, but they didn’t seem quite right. Nothing seemed quite right. Where was Marcus? Why was Nykim saying nothing about her being a girl?  

I’ll get you out. His phrasing slammed into her, knocking any other worries to the wayside. She looked over Nykim’s shoulder at Resh, who was pressing a hand to his bleeding neck. His brows were pinched with pain, but the way he looked at her… it took her breath away. 

“Nykim–” 

“Carr.” He cut her off with a warning look. “The boy’s a liability. Are you seriously suggesting we leave him alive?” 

We? There was no way he was asking her opinion as a beta after finding out–feeling a bit woozy, she decided to lie down. Her vision swam, and when she blinked, tears fell free, trickling down her temples. She quickly wiped them away. 

A scuffle broke out. Carr turned her head to find Resh had tried to come to her, and Nykim too, based on how close they were. But Nykim was holding Resh back with an arm across his chest… and a dagger right over his heart. 

“Stay away from her,” Nykim said, his voice low and rough. “She doesn’t like people hovering.” 

“You think… I don’t know… that?” Resh forced out. He was obviously hurting. It was also obvious he didn’t care as he tried to shove past Nykim anyway. “Ah! Carr, you okay?” 

Her eyes stayed trained on that dagger. “Nykim, please! Don’t hurt him.” 

“The fuck is going on here, Carr?” Nykim grunted, shoving Resh back. 

It was too much. Her head swam with unanswered questions and fears she couldn’t assuage because of them. Nykim showing up here was undoubtedly good, but he was trying to kill Resh, which was bad. So, so bad. She couldn’t allow it but didn’t know if she held any sway over Nykim now. She certainly didn’t have the strength to stop him if she didn’t.

Carr covered her mouth to stifle her sob, but it didn’t completely mask the sound. Both men went still as statues. Oh gods. She threw her arm over her eyes, just in case any more tears decided to break free. 

“Did you miss something?” Resh asked, his tone accusatory. 

“She’s still going to be in some pain,” Nykim said, sounding confused. 

He probably was. She’d never once cried in front of him. 

There was the whisper of fabric over stone, and then Carr felt a presence at her side. She tensed and lowered her arm to see who had come to gawk at her. 

It was Resh. 

She couldn’t look away from him to check on where Nykim was. Resh kneeled just out of reach, the fingers of his left hand digging into his thigh. The positioning had to be painful after the way he’d been chained. His right arm hung uselessly at his side, the deformity of his shoulder obvious without his shirt. Both his wrists had deep grooves cut into them, and blood painted his forearms. 

“Get off your knees,” Carr mumbled. Her chest felt tight; gods, he’d tried so hard to get to her. 

He huffed a laugh while he shifted his weight, sitting beside her head. She finally summoned the nerve to meet his eyes. They were the same deep brown pools she’d allowed herself to drown in while… her brow wrinkled. 

She was pretty sure that had happened, that Marcus had been on top of her… that she had waited, held by Resh’s eyes until the… she shuddered. Until the right moment before wrenching the dagger from her shoulder and slitting Marcus’ throat. Not too deep. No, she’d needed a little time to… fuck. Had she really–had that actually happened? 

“Is he dead?” she whispered, tears clogging her throat. Her fingers dug into the leather of Nykim’s jacket. “Did he… did I… was that real?” 

Resh bowed his head, releasing her from his thrall. “Yeah, it was all real. I’m… I couldn’t… fuck.” His left hand clenched into a fist. 

It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t, and yet he had never stopped trying. Carr remembered that much. He had begged and pleaded and offered himself up in her place, all while tearing himself apart–she looked at his arm–literally, in an attempt to help. He shouldn’t blame himself; it wasn’t his fault. She didn’t know how to say any of that, though. 

Instead, she steeled herself and said, “I need to see. Will you help me?” 

The shock on Resh’s face was painful to witness. His gaze drifted to the side before coming back to her. “Are you sure? Maybe it’d be better if Nykim helped you?”

She stared at him, trying to figure out if he didn’t want to touch her out of guilt or because of what had happened. More fucking tears pricked her eyes at the latter thought; fucking pits, none of her defenses were in place. They’d all been stripped away. 

Nykim cleared his throat, and they both looked over at him. “If she asked for your help, boy, she means it.” He wiped his bloody hands on his pants. “I’ve got some bodies to take care of. You can have a few minutes, then we need to get out of here.” 

“‘We’ includes Resh, Nykim,” Carr said harshly. Her heart beat wildly though, unsure if he would listen, uncertain if what she wanted still mattered–

He sighed heavily. “For now, yes. Further discussion can be held at the lair.” 

Nykim stood and took a few steps toward the door before he pivoted, changing course. He crouched at Resh’s side, his eyes taking on a stormy gray hue. “You do anything to hurt her, and I’ll strip the flesh from your bones. Then I’ll mount them in my office.” 

His hand shot forward, and a bolt of fear shot through her, stopping her heart, but he only grabbed Resh’s right arm and yanked. All color fled from Resh’s face. The pop of his shoulder sliding back into the socket was audible even over his scream.

“What the fuck, Nykim!” Carr shouted, struggling to push herself up. 

“Couldn’t have him tensing up, now could I?” Mischief danced in his eyes. 

He was up and out of reach before Carr could knock him on his ass as he so richly deserved. She was angry enough that she could’ve done it. Maybe.

To Resh, he said, “Hold that arm close to your body, and don’t fucking use it.” Then he swept out of the room. 

“Shit,” Resh gasped, clutching his arm to his chest. Perspiration dotted his forehead. “He’s… intense.” 

Carr glared at the door. “Yeah.” 

“So, uh, how would you like me to help you?” He looked nervous when Carr transferred her gaze back to him. “I… I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, is all.” 

Her skin prickled, and she suppressed a shudder at the thought of anyone touching her right now. But she was so weak, it couldn’t be helped. Besides, she trusted Resh... 

The thought rocked her to her core. When the fuck had that happened?

“Just help me sit up, and we can go from there,” she said, pushing that revelation away. 

He did as she asked, as best he could with only one arm. The warmth of his palm met the chilled, bare flesh of her shoulder, and Carr was shocked to find she didn’t mind the contact. Which had her thinking that maybe, from him, a hug would feel even better. 

For a moment, she allowed herself to imagine how it might feel to be held, comforted. Resh’s warmth would soak into her, and she could listen to his heart beat, like she had when the tunnel collapsed. The steady rhythm would soothe the ache in her chest, that ever-present need she had to be seen, accepted.  

Anger–at herself–rose swiftly before plummeting just as fast into a hole of dark despair. Her breathing quickened as she mentally castigated herself; she fucking knew better. Gods, she could feel herself unraveling, thread by carefully woven thread. She bit her lip, forcing back that longing. 

Focus on the task at hand. That’s what she needed to do. Focus.     

With Resh’s support, she put Nykim’s jacket on properly, fastening it over makeshift bandages she only now noticed. Her chest warmed, and not from the nasty gash between her breasts. 

“Did you bandage me?” She caught Resh’s nod in her peripheral vision while she fastened the last button. 

Whatever else she intended to say vanished from her mind when she lifted her eyes and caught sight of the body lying not six feet away from them. 

Marcus. 

He was very fucking dead. 

Relief, along with a savage sense of satisfaction, filled her, and she clenched her fists while the holes in her memory filled in. He’d fucking deserved every moment of suffering. She wished it could’ve lasted longer. 

She had killed him and–

The heir to the godsdamned throne was dead. 

“Shit, this is bad,” Carr muttered. Gods, all those guards had seen her and Resh in here with the prince. And Resh–what was he thinking? He’d seen her kill Creve, but this… this was on another level. 

Stiffening, she jerked away from where she leaned against his chest. Shit, she had been leaning on him, had felt like he was… safe. A pit formed in her stomach. 

Safety was an illusion.

It was. She’d always known that, had never known any different. The only safety she’d ever known had been the safety she created, and even that wasn’t foolproof. 

The carnage blurring in front of her eyes proved that.

She pressed a hand to her chest and winced when her wound cracked open. Fresh blood slicked her palm while she tried to remember how to breathe.  

Distantly, she recognized she was falling apart. It didn’t matter; she couldn’t seem to stop it. After everything, the thing that broke her was feeling safe? She would’ve laughed if she could get any air in her lungs. 

Behind her sat the one person who had ever evoked that feeling in her. Gods, how she wanted to give in to it. But she didn’t know how. And there was–

There was blood all over her; Marcus had been all over her. Her skin crawled, and she tried to scramble away. 

He had seen it all. He couldn’t… she couldn’t…

Resh caught her before she could fall on her face. “Hey, what’s going on–” 

“Don’t touch me,” she shrieked, but he didn’t let go. 

He didn’t let go, he didn’t let go, he, he, he moved. In front of her. Her hand shot out on reflex, and Resh winced when her palm hit his chest. 

“You don’t want to touch me,” she sobbed, dropping her arm, but he pulled her closer. She didn’t fight it, didn’t want to fight it. 

Resh was warm, and she was so, so cold. She shivered against his chest, holding her breath in an attempt to stifle her crying. Hiccuping sobs rewarded her efforts. 

He wrapped his arm around her in a loose hold. Even as weak as she was, she could’ve pulled away if she wanted to. 

“Breathe, Carr,” Resh said softly, stroking her hair. 

She tried. 

“If you think I’ll judge you for what happened, you’re wrong. I’m glad you did what you did. I don’t care about any of that. But I understand if you truly don’t want to be touched.” He pulled his hand away from her head, loosened his hold even more. “I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself. Tell me what you want me to do. How can I help?” 

She whimpered, pressing herself closer to him. “Don’t stop.” 

His breath caught, and she melted into him when he resumed petting her hair. Just a few moments, she told herself. Then she had to pull herself together. 

“Mother fuck,” Nykim said. “What the fuck did you do?”

She hadn’t even heard him come in. Unacceptable. The tangled, swirling mess of her emotions stilled, and she stiffened at his tone. 

“He d…didn’t do.” Hiccup. “Didn’t do anything,” Carr mumbled. Godsdamned hiccups. Deep measured breaths. She knew how this worked. 

In. 

Out. 

Resh’s arms tightened protectively around her. 

Disbelief colored Nykim’s voice as he muttered a few more choice curses. 

All Carr could think about was how Resh shouldn’t be using his right arm to hold her like that. She squirmed, then thought better of it when he flinched. Instead, she tilted her head to look at Nykim, gauging how much trouble she was in.  

Nykim caught her eye and cocked his head, studying her silently. She could only imagine what she must look like. If being female hadn’t doomed her yet for some reason, Carr knew her behavior wasn’t exactly fitting for one of Nykim’s betas. Carr didn’t even breathe while she waited on his judgment. 

“Okay.” Nykim sighed, and she drew in a ragged breath. That was a sigh of resigned acceptance if she’d ever heard one, thank fuck. 

“I can’t wait to hear this story. But for now, let’s get the fuck out of here. You’re with me, Carr.” 

She nodded and pushed away from Resh. He wouldn’t be able to help her, not with how fucked up his shoulders must be. If she couldn’t get her legs to support her, Nykim would likely end up carrying her. Wonderful.

At least her hiccups were gone. Suppressing a groan, she reached out to take Nykim’s hand. 

Nykim may have questions, but she had some of her own now. Like why he kept shooting Resh those ‘keep your mouth shut’ glances she was so familiar with. 

She wondered if it had anything to do with how she was still alive. 

Next

Image Description

[ID: The banner is a sepia-colored version of the original blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths AU are written in white above the eyes. end ID]

#fantasy whump #lady whump #whump #whump writing #original writing #original characters #alternate universe #hidden depths au #captivity tw #blood tw #knife tw #dead body tw #nudity mention #panic attack tw #dislocated shoulder #reference to noncon #warnings above the cut

[ghost-proofbaby]

i think this perfectly encapsulates this trio in my redemption durge playthrough

#ghost plays bg3 #broke my game damn near just to get this clip #i finally got the gale line ! #be their peace? nah this girl is their own waking nightmare #their reactions to her sticking her hand in the flesh hole at moonrise was also very funny #aruna my beloved you are so stupid #just a bhaalspawn with her vampire boyfriend and wizard bestie #would you believe me if i told you that she just convinced the boss to kill everyone and himself? #i swear she has 17 intelligence i just play her nice and dumb #not a thought behind those eyes when she has her scary dog privilege tagging along #bg3 #tw spiders #not captured: my cackling as i saw gale’s disapproval #also the way she has a dislocated shoulder don’t talk to me we just did the prison at moonrise

[divineprank]

Hello everyone! ♥ 

Sorry for the lack of activity from me on this side of my blog! I just wanted to give you a small update and let you know what’s going on. Allow me to warn you that the following will contain descriptive mentions of chronic pain, advanced arthritis, skeletal injury, spinal injury, paralysis, shoulder dislocation, surgery, and shoulder replacement surgery. I am a caregiver for my physically disabled mother who normally struggles quite a bit with her usual physical limitations. Twenty years ago, she was in a horrible accident that left her partially paralyzed from an incomplete spinal cord break. She can walk and talk and feed herself, but she’s quite limited in her daily life and she is often in a lot of pain as a result. 

Unfortunately, as she’s grown older, she has developed arthritis in her left shoulder, like many of us do. Sadly, it’s progressed to a point that her arm has literally dislocated itself. You see, she has stage IV arthritis -- this is the worst “grade” your arthritis can be rated. Having stage IV arthritis means that the cartilage has completely worn down and now the bone has been grinding against bone. What this means for her is her shoulder bones have ground against each other so much that it is no longer physically possible for her arm to remain locked in her shoulder joint where it belongs naturally. Because of how bad her arthritis is, reducing the shoulder dislocation--that is, to set the arm back into place--is impossible. There is literally nothing for her skeleton to lock together, the shape of her shoulder anatomy has been permanently altered due to the progression of her arthritis. Since they can’t pop her arm back into place, she is facing a total shoulder replacement. Right now she is in an immense amount of pain and her usual limitations have been amplified ten-fold. So, I’ve been really busy with helping my already-limited mother maneuver life around basically having only one arm, as well as trying to manage her terrible pain until we can get this surgery taken care of. We’re almost there, she just needs a medical clearance from her lung doctor because she just got over COVID. 

To those of you who are waiting on the asks you sent me, and to those who are expecting some older threads I have drafted: I am still here, I am still present and I definitely want to write with you guys. Ganondorf’s muse is on fire and I want to be a pyromaniac! But things will be a bit slow from my end for a little while. I’ve just got a lot going on at home right now, haha.  Please don’t let that discourage you from reaching out, though! Even though it sounds like I’ve got a lot going on, writing is one of my favorite ways to decompress, so I’m still VERY open to receiving asks, getting tagged and talking through IMs (or Discord with mutuals!) right now! Plus, I’ll definitely still be chipping away at what I owe you guys! I’m hoping to get a bunch done by this weekend! But yeah! All this craziness aside, I am normally kind of a slow RPer, but with the situation at hand, I know I’m going to be even slower, so I’m writing this because I’m a little paranoid that I’m coming across as aloof. I want to be open and honest with you guys in case it seemed like I was procrastinating or ignoring anyone! Thanks for reading; I appreciate your understanding and I hope you all have a great night! :) 

#tw spinal injury #tw chronic pain #tw paralysis #tw arthritis #tw skeletal injury #tw dislocated shoulder #tw surgery #tw shoulder replacement surgery #Out of time. :: [OUT OF CHARACTER]

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

So in a fic I’m working on I had this idea that at some point my oc and Sam are possibly making out (you could just make it a Sam Winchester x oc) when they realize her shoulder is dislocated. She’s got a higher pain tolerance so she didn’t think much of it until later and she keeps wincing and Sam catches on.

'What was that? You winced.'

Sorry it took so long. Mental health was a bit off with packing to move. Enjoy!

Sam Winchester X female!Reader

Rated: Teen and up (kissing, implied reference without actually stating, injury)

Summary: After a hunt, the adrenaline gets to them and they start enjoying themselves back at the bunker only to find out Y/N got hurt.

💋🔪

“Hey,” yelled Dean happily from the map room as Sam and Y/N walked down the stairs. “How’d it go?”

“Ok,” said Sam.

“Got thrown around,” replied Y/N from behind Sam and shrugged, flinching at a pain in her arm. Rubbing it, she walked across the floor to the table and set her bag down. “How’s your vacation going?” She smirked at Dean.

Dean rolled his eyes, closed his book, and got up.

Y/N smiled, teasingly and opened her arms for a hug.

Dean came up, bent over some, and wrapped his arms around her with a grin, “Glad y’all came home in one piece.”

“Me too,” she agreed with a small squeeze and hiss.

Dean pulled back with concern in his eyes, “You ok?”

“Yeah, just sore,” she explained.

He looked over to Sam with a smile and moved to him with a hug as well. Stepping back, he inquired, “Need anything?”

Y/N and Sam shook their heads.

“A’ight. I’m gonna head to my room and let the love birds relax,” he teased and walked into the kitchen, grabbed a beer, then headed towards his room.

Sam and Y/N rolled their eyes at him. She giggled and Sam huffed with an upturn of his lips.

Y/N picked up her duffel bag from the floor with a small grunt and rubbed her arm leaving her hand on her shoulder, the pressure feeling good. Sam tugged on her duffle causing her to naturally let go. “Be right back,” he bent and planted a kiss on her cheek then headed to the hall to their room.

“I’ll grab some beers,” she called out, letting her arms swing as she strode into the kitchen.

Once back at the map table, she opened her beer and grimaced as she set Sam’s bottle down. She rubbed her shoulder again thinking it must be a knot but it didn’t help. Shrugging, she took a long sip of beer and set it down.

Hearing footfalls, she turned in her seat with a small smile and a quirk of her brow. She pursed her lips slightly causing the smile to widen.

Sam quirked a brow and grinned. He slid into the chair next to her and patted his lap.

She sat across his lap, her legs over the armrest with a smile only for him, then leaned over, slotting her lips against his. Her body relaxed against his frame, her hurt shoulder leaned against his chest drawing a hiss from her.

“What was that? You winced,” Sam noticed.

“Nothing,” she informed. “Just a knot or something that’s bugging me.” She tried leaning back down to continue kissing Sam but he held her in place with a raised brow.

“You’ve been hurt before without realizing how serious it was, Y/N.”

With a sigh, she got up out of his lap and sat back in her chair facing him.

He started examining her shoulder quickly causing her to flinch with a painful grunt. He chuckled warily and shook his head, “Only you could have a dislocated shoulder and not notice.”

“You like me with my high pain tolerance, so shut it, Winchester,” she teased.

Sam leaned over and kissed her lips, chastely, “I do but right now let’s go to the infirmary to see if we can find you an arm splint.

She grumbled, wrinkling her nose, and reluctantly followed him.

Tag: @myloversgone @riley-phoenix

#ask #request #supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #reader #reader insert #high pain tolerance reader #tw: dislocated shoulder #after a hunt #elle em bee

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Stand By Your Man

Whumptober 2022: 13. Dislocation, 31. Comfort Fandom: Outer Range, Rhett Abbott Word Count: 1919 TW: Shoulder Dislocation, Pain, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting Note: Based on the scene in Episode 8 of Outer Range.

You knew Rhett Abbott better than almost anyone else alive. The two of you had been best friends since elementary school, began dating junior year of high school, and had been engaged for the past year. Plus, you had been his head chute assistant since his very first bull ride. You knew when he was on top of the world, and when something was wrong. And from the second he was thrown from his bull and slammed into the ground, you knew something was very wrong.

You saw the way his eyes bulged as all the muscles in his jaw and neck clenched and tightened. How his fingers frantically clawed into the dirt as he tried to grasp onto something, anything. The way he struggled to rise to his feet even as the bull bucked and kicked inches from his prone, shaking body. You flew from your spot at the other end of the arena and rushed toward him.

By the time you cleared the distance, one of the barrelmen had managed to grab Rhett and haul him into the safety of one of the chutes. As you approached, he was staring woefully up at the scoreboard, and you glanced up just in time to see the results from his last ride drop his name to last place.

While equally as disappointed, at that moment all you cared about was the safety and well-being of your fiancé. Peering through the bars of the chute, you called out, “Rhett!”

Turning towards the sound of your voice, he stumbled to you, his right arm grasping his left so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The second he was out of the arena, your hands were all over him, roaming over his body as you tried to assess his injuries. “What is it? What happened?”

“Shoulder.” The single word dripped with pain as he thrust it through gritted teeth. When your fingers lightly brushed across the damaged spot, his face screwed up in agony.

Looking around quickly to make sure no one else had noticed his injury, you led him over to a secluded area behind the bleachers. However, your blood soon ran cold as you examined his injuries. You bit your lip in an attempt to hide your concern as you glanced up at him. “Baby…. This looks really bad. Your shoulder is dislocated at least. Probably worse. You can’t ride like this.”

“Just one more round. 8 seconds. That’s all I need.” His words were curt and choppy as he tried to spit them out through his clenched jaw.

“Rhett! It’s 8 seconds on top of a 2-thousand-pound bull with nothing to hold you on but your injured arm. If something goes wrong…. You could be killed.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be disqualified.” When he looked at you, his eyes were silently pleading with you through the pain. “If I move on, this’ll be our best chance ta get outta here. Once an’ for all. I can still win, I just…. I need your help.”

“Baby, I…. There are more important things than winning. I just…. it’s too dangerous. I can’t…” You tried to express exactly what you were feeling, yet the words wouldn’t come.

His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared as he glared at you. “Fine. You don’t have ta help. Just don’t stand in my way.” He swerved passed you, careful to avoid bumping his injured shoulder as he headed back towards the arena.

You stared after him, debating your next move. You could walk away, just head up into the stands and watch what happened during his ride or even walk out of the stadium, but you knew your nerves could never handle either of those scenarios. You could also go report him. One word to anyone on the medical team and they would pull him immediately. However, that would also be the end of your relationship. Rhett would never forgive you for getting him disqualified, especially against his explicit wishes. So, that left you with one option.

With a heavy sigh, you followed after your fiancé. He was leaning heavily against the side of the gate, watching the next rider as he tumbled to the ground. Another poor run, which meant Rhett had an even better chance of advancing. But only if he rode again.

You stood next to him silently for a moment as they cleared the arena for the next bout. Then, you muttered, “If nothing else, I’m gonna have to pop your arm back into place. You won’t even be able to grip the rope like this.”

His eyes darted to yours as a silent “thanks” passed between you. However, as he opened his mouth to say something, you quickly grabbed his arm and pulled. Rhett doubled over and he let out a strangled grunt, but you felt his arm slide back into its socket. Gently letting go of it, you leaned over and placed a long kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it would be easier that way. At least the worst of it is over.”

Rhett slowly straightened, panting slightly as he said, “Thanks. Feels a little better.” Yet you watched as he tried to flex his fingers and another wave of pain shot across his face. Keeling over once more, he vomited weakly into the dust.

You squeezed your eyes together as you bit your lip, trying not to let the tears that were welling up in your eyes fall. Seeing Rhett in this much pain caused a physical ache in your chest and you knew whatever agony he was showing you was only a fraction of what he was really feeling. But there was nothing more you could do, so you just lay your hand on his hunched shoulders and rubbed soothing circles up and down his back.

After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Can you go get me a beer?” he asked hoarsely as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Giving his right shoulder a soft squeeze, you cooed, “Yeah, baby. Of course. I’ll be right back.”

When you returned a few moments later with a cold beer in your hand, Rhett was crouched down with his arm held tightly against his chest. You offered him the can and he gratefully took it from you. After taking a long swig, he swirled the liquid around in his mouth and spat it into the dirt. Then he downed the rest of the beer in one long chug.

When he nodded softly at you, you gently wrapped your hands around his uninjured arm and helped haul him to his feet. He still flinched, yet the pain didn’t seem to be as bad as before. Sighing, he began to walk back over to the chute but you stopped him.

Grasping his face between your hands, you forced him to look at you. “Rhett. If you can’t do this, it’ll be okay. Don’t throw away your entire career by going out there and hurting yourself worse. There’ll be other competitions, other rides. I’ll stand behind you, whatever you decide, just don’t let your pride destroy you.”

Rhett stared into your eyes from underneath his hat. “I can do this. I know I can.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Then you get out there and show them what you got.”

For the first time since climbing onto the bull back in the chute, a hint of a smile fluttered across Rhett’s face. He tilted your chin back so he could place a firm kiss on your lips before pulling back and resting the brim of his hat against your forehead. Stroking your cheek, he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmured back. “Now we have to go before you’re disqualified.”

You helped Rhett back over to the chute just as his bull was being loaded up. A few of the other guys shot you a questioning glance as they saw how Rhett was holding his arm, but you flashed them an icy glare and they instantly backed down. You had been working with most of these guys long enough for them to know if you said Rhett was good to go, he was good to go. You just hoped this time you weren’t lying.

Over the loud snorts and bellows of the bull, you could just make out Rhett’s groans of pain as Tom and Kyle helped lower him onto the beast. You just hoped you were the only one who noticed. 

Rhett’s eyes flickered to yours for a moment before glancing down at the bull rope next to his hand. Immediately, you understood. While his shoulder was no longer dislocated, he was still too weak and in too much pain to secure the rope as tightly as it needed to be. Without a word, you leaned over and coiled the rope around his hand before closing his fingers around it. You gave his fist a reassuring squeeze. He gave you a soft nod of thanks. 

As everyone began retreating from the chute, you saw Rhett glance up into the stands and you watched as his face fell. You knew exactly who he was looking for, and it somehow didn’t surprise you when you looked to the spot his family always sat and found only an empty hole. Not a single one of them had stayed to watch Rhett’s last ride. 

Swallowing your anger and disgust, you gently grabbed Rhett’s chin and turned his face so he had to drag his gaze away from the stands. Once his eyes met yours, you smiled and whispered, “Hey… you got this, baby. Now, give ‘em hell.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he dipped his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek one last time before you jumped off the side of the chute and ran over to the edge of the arena to watch his ride. Just before they opened the gate, you took a deep breath and held it. 

Seconds later, Rhett’s bull exploded from the chute with Rhett clinging on tightly with one hand, the other held high in the air. He didn’t quite have his usual grace and agility, but all things considered, he was doing a lot better than you thought he would. 

Come on, baby. Just eight seconds. You can do it. Just hold on.

The timer illuminated on the scoreboard had never moved so slowly before. Each second seemed to drag on for an hour or more. But finally, it reached the blessed 8 and the siren sounded but you barely heard it over the sound of your cheers. 

Rhett tumbled off the side of the bull and scurried to his feet to avoid being trampled. He managed to get to the chute safely but you still couldn’t relax yet. As soon as you saw he was safe, your eyes shot to the scoreboard. Once again, time seemed to stop as you waited for his scores to fill the board. appear………………

"Yes!" you screamed as the scores began scrolling across the board. It was an amazing total, more than enough to make up for his first ride and secure him a spot in the championship. "That's my man!" 

Rhett must have heard you because he turned towards the sound of your voice, his face beaming under the arena lights. When he spotted you, he exaggeratedly mouthed I love you. You grinned and replied I love you too. 

Taglist:@luckyladycreator2, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996

#whumptober #whumptober2022 #whumptober 2022 #fic #no.13 #no.31 #dislocation #comfort #outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #lewis pullman #angst #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt & comfort #shoulder dislocation tw #pain tw

[marvelous-writer]

A Hawk and a Spider

Summary: An Avengers mission goes wrong when Peter and Kate wind up getting stuck under a collapsed building. 

Whumptober Day 12: Cave In, Day 13: Dislocation, Day 14: Failed Escape, Day 15: Breathing Through the Pain, & Day 16: “No one’s coming.”

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

Rating: G

Word Count: 6,275

Genre: whump, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

Link to read on AO3:

“Those cowards,” Clint’s voice comes over the comms. “Guys, we have to get the hell out of here. They have a timed explosion that’s going to go off in a minute.”

Peter’s eyes widen beneath his mask as he looks at Tony.

“Shit. Can you disarm it?” Tony curses as he glances around the dark warehouse space.

“Already tried. Whoever rigged it is a knows what they’re doing.”

“So this whole thing was just a trap to lure us here.” Tony says with a sigh.

“Afraid so, Stark but on the bright side, we were able to find a list of locations they’ve been transporting these weapons to. We’ll scope them out later but for now let’s get the hell out of here!”

The team was called on a mission by SHIELD to take down a new organization group that has been stealing alien weapons from Damage Control, and they’re guessing it’s an inside job. The location to the warehouse they’re in somewhere in the middle of nowhere in upstate New York popped up on SHIELD’s radar, so the team was sent out to look for any evidence and take down any of the goons that worked here. They must have tripped off some kind of alarm when they got here.

“Let’s get the hell out of here, Pete.” Tony tells him as his helmet closes over his head.

Peter nods as he follows Tony out of the room they had been searching in and shoots a web off to Tony’s back as he takes off into the now open space, heading towards one of the skylights.

When they’re outside, Peter can see the team running back towards the Quinjet, a safe distance away from the warehouse before it explodes. Tony shoots off in that direction and Peter tightens his grip on his web line before they reach the team. Tony slows down and starts to descend back the ground and Peter jumps down when they’re close enough.

“We made sure the area was evacuated on our way out. I’m guessing there was some kind of silent alarm we tripped when we went in.” Steve says, looking over at Tony as he retracts his helmet, the nanotech crawling back into his suit.

Tony nods as he walks over to Steve, the two discussing something.

“Hold up. Where’s Kate?” Clint suddenly asks.

“I thought she was with you.” Steve says with a frown.

Peter looks around them and off into the distance where the Quinjet is parked, but the ramp is still up so she couldn’t have gotten on board. Peter looks back at Clint, seeing the worry on the archer’s face.

The archer raises his hand and presses on the comm link in his ear. “Kate? Are you still in the warehouse?”

A few tense seconds pass by before a crackling sound fills the comms.

“Yeah! I found this secret room in one of the offices behind a bookshelf and it’s full of evidence that ties them to—”

“Kate, listen to me carefully. You have to get out of there right now. The building is going to explode in less than a minute!”

“Shit—what?” She exclaims on the other end, followed by rapid movement. “Oh no… this is bad. Uh, Clint… we have a problem.”

“What?” Clint asks with dread in his voice.

“The door wont open.. It must have locked when it closed on me.”

Clint’s eyes widen in horror as he wips around to face the warehouse. Peter’s eyes widen as well under his mask. Kate has become one of his closest friends since they met last year around Christmas and there’s no way he’s going to sit here and let her get hurt—or worse—killed.

Without hesitating, Peter lunges away from the group, heading back to the warehouse.

“Peter! Stop!” Tony calls to him in a panicked voice, hearing the sound of his suit firing up.

“Tony, no! He’s faster than any of us. He’ll be in and out of there.” Peter heard someone say, stopping Tony from following him.

Peter pushes himself to run faster as he looks up at all of the warehouse windows as he presses the comm in his ear. “Kate, I'm coming to get you. What floor are you on?”

“The third floor!”

Peter reaches a hand out and shoots a web off to the roof before he jumps up, yanking the web back, propelling himself up in the air. When he’s close enough to the large third floor windows, he shoots two webs at the building before he yanks himself feet first through the window, glass shattering around him.

He lands inside on the carpeted floor and rolls a few times, ignoring the sharp sting of pain from the pieces of glass stabbing him as he springs back up to his feet. His eyes dart around him as he searches the space around him. He’s surrounded by what looks to be endless rows of cubicles with quite a few glass offices on the surrounding walls. Peter starts to jog up the aisle of cubicles, looking around himself for any sign of Kate.

“Mr. Stark is calling.” Karen tells him as Tony’s contact photo pops up on his HUD.

“Don’t answer it.” Peter says.

But of course, she does the exact opposite, probably all thanks to Tony updating her coding recently without him knowing it.

“Connecting call.”

“No, Karen—“

“Peter, so help me, you get back here right now.” Tony’s voice comes from the other line of the call.

Peter resists the urge to roll his eyes. This is a matter of life and death and Tony is still babying him. He had to almost beg to join the team on this mission. He just so happened to be at the Compound with Tony at the time while he was helping Bruce in the lab with a project when the call to assemble came. It was a rushed decision on Tony’s part to let him tag along, which Peter is sure he’s regretting now.  

“I’ll be in and out, Tony. I’m not leaving Kate in here.” Peter tells him.

“Then I’m coming in—“

Frustration and anger rush through Peter all at once. After everything, Tony still doesn’t think he has what it takes—what it takes to be an Avenger.

“No! I’ve got this, Tony!”

“Peter. You listen to me right now—“

“We don’t have time for this, Tony! I’m not going to stop and let you talk down to me like I’m a kid. You’re not my dad!” He yells before he ends the call. Shoving away his anger for the time being, he presses the comm in his ear. “Kate, do you know what office you’re in?”

“The second one on the right next to the stairwell door!” Kate grunts out and Peter can tell she’s slamming herself into something, probably the locked door.

Peter’s eyes scan around him until his eyes land on a door across the large space from him with a sign on the door with the word ‘stairs’ painted on it.

“Peter you have fifty-two seconds before the explosion will detonate.” Karen warns him.

Peter grits his teeth in determination as he runs past the rows of cubicles towards the office next to the stairwell entrance. When he reaches it, he throws the door open and rushes inside, only to reveal that the office is empty, except for a desk and bookshelf.

“Did you find her yet, Pete?” Clint’s worried voice comes over the comms.

“Not yet. I’m…” He pauses, straining his ears for a second, hearing the faint sound of something slamming behind the bookshelf in the office.

Peter rushes forward to the bookshelf, his eyes scanning over the empty shelves. “How did you open the bookshelf, Kate? Was there a lever? A button?”

“I-I don’t really know. I was feeling along the left side of it and I heard something click and it just opened.”

“Peter, there appears to be a button on the left side of the shelf, right by the top shelf.” Karen tells him.

Peter skims his hand along the left side of the bookshelf until his finger brushes up against the small button. “I got it!” He exclaims, pressing it.

Something clicks somewhere within the bookshelf before it starts to slowly slide open, revealing a door behind it. Peter wastes no time in shoving it the rest of the way to the side, causing something to snap, probably the gears. He grabs the handle to the secret door, finding it locked as well.

There’s only one thing to do.

Peter raises a hand to the comm as he takes a few steps back from the door. “Get away from the door, Kate!”

“Okay but why?”

Without answering, Peter lunges at the door and smashes into it with his shoulder, causing the door to break off the hinges, wood pieces flying in the air as it falls to the floor. Peter catches himself on his hands before he faceplates on the broken door.

“Oh, shit!”

Peter turns around and finds Kate standing in the corner by the door with wide eyes and her mouth agape.

“That was awesome!” She says with a grin.

Peter smiles under his mask as he stands up, raising a hand to his comm again. “Clint, I got her we—“

“Good, now you both need to get the hell out of there and fast! We were trying to shut the detonator off but there must have been a failsafe or something because the timer just changed! There’s only fifteen seconds before that explosion goes off!” Clint yells to him over the comms.

Peter and Kate’s wide eyes meet for a fraction of a second before they both run out of the secret room and the office.

“Peter, eight seconds.” Karen tells him.

“Which way?” Kate calls to him, running at his side.

“East window!”

Peter and Kate run down the rows of cubicles before they take a sharp right, the window Peter entered in from coming into their sighs a couple hundred feet away from them. Peter can see the hole he made from here.

Almost there.

“Five seconds!”

Peter grits his teeth in determination as his spider-sense harshly vibrates at the back of his head.

“Peter, Kate—get out of there!” Clint yells on the comms.

Peter’s eyes widen as he turns his head and sees that Kate has fallen behind him, unable to keep up with him.

“Hang on, Kate!” He yells as he slows down just enough to quickly wrap an arm around her, picking her up in an awkward side-carry as he throws his free hand out and shoots a web off to the window and pulls his arm back with all his might, propelling them forward.

Almost there!

“One second!”

His spider-sense blares at the back of his head but it’s too late to warn him in time as a loud, booming sound echoes throughout the building, followed by a shockwave that radiates through the air. The force of it sends Peter flying and his eyes widen under his mask.

At that moment, everything goes into slow motion.

His gaze turns to Kate’s face, seeing her eye slowly squeeze shut before he turns to the window across from them, throwing his arm up and shooting a web off. The web flows through the dusty air, glimmering in the sunlight leaking in through the hole in the window.

He doesn’t get o see if it connects to the window as the back of his shoulder clips the corner of a wall, hearing more than feeling something snap in his shoulder.

The window tilts out of his view as he and Kate fly in the opposite direction of it and he wraps his arms around to cover her before his back slams into the carpeted ground.

The last thing he’s aware of is the floor caving in beneath them and Kate’s terrified screams filling his ears before something slams into the side of his head, knocking him out cold.

…

The first thing Peter becomes aware of is a sharp ringing in his ears and pain.

Horrible, excruciating pain, radiating throughout his entire body, almost as if his skin is on fire.

He just wants it to stop.

Peter manages to crack his eyes open, only to find himself looking through one lens of his mask and the other one is missing, a few pieces still remaining around the rim. It’s dark, wherever he is, except for a weird, white, moving light… a flashlight? Everything is so blurry it’s hard to tell.

The light sends a sharp pain through his eyes, shooting all the way up to his head. Peter closes his eyes again with a raspy, pained groan from the back of his throat.

“Peter? Oh my God!” A voice suddenly fills his ears against the ringing.

Peter feels his brows pull together as he manages to weakly roll his head to the side, opening his eyes, finding someone kneeling over him. He sluggishly blinks a few times and with each blink, his vision clears, just enough for him to be able to see that it’s Kate.

He sees that the light is coming from the small flashlight in Kate’s hand, allowing him to also see that she’s covered in white dust with what looks to be pebbles of debris in her hair, a few bloody scratches and scrapes her face, along with a bloody split lip.

“Are you with me, Pete?” She asks as she leans in closer to him, her watery eyes filled with concern and fear.

Peter manages to nod, wincing against the pain it brings. “Y-Yeah…” He hoarsely says, blinking a few more times. “W-What happened?”

Her brows pull together. “You don’t remember?”

Peter frowns, wracking his foggy and jumbled brain for any memory but he can’t remember anything.

Kate lets out a shaky sigh as she sits back on her legs. “We’re on an Avengers mission and I got stuck in a secret room behind a bookshelf. You came in and got me out… but then the building blew up and now… we’re stuck underneath all of this debris.” She says, holding her arms out in emphasis.

Peter’s eyes widen as the memories come back to him of running inside the warehouse looking for her and then the explosion that came when they failed to escape in time.

“Ugh,” Peter groans out, closing his eyes. “I remember now,” He says, opening his eyes back up after a moment. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay for the most part but what about you? You’ve been unconscious for awhile. I don’t even know how long I was out for.” She says with a worried frown.

“Not the first time I’ve been knocked out,” Peter says in an attempted joke as he tries to sit up, only to let out a sharp hiss in pain when his right arm and head protest against the movement. But… it’s a weird pain coming from his arm. A sharp, tingling sensation runs up and down it as pain radiates from somewhere deep in his shoulder. He tries to wiggle his fingers to stop the tingling… only to find that he can’t. “Oh crap… that’s not good…”

“What’s wrong?” Kate quickly asks, panic in her voice as she helps him stay sitting up in the position he’s in.

Peter frowns as he squints to see in the semi-darkness to look down at his arm but he can’t see anything. “Can you bring the flashlight closer to my right arm, please?”

She moves closer to him and points her flashlight at his arm and he looks down at himself, only to see a word bulge under his suit in between his shoulder and chest.

Oh shit.

Peter is a science geek. He aced biology in school and he knows the parts of the human body and how they function, especially bones. He’s also a crime-fighting vigilante who has plenty of experience getting injured on the job.

He knows a dislocated shoulder when he sees and feels one.

Kate must see it too because her breathing picks up ever so slightly. “Y-Your shoulder-“

“It’s okay,” Peter tells her in the calmest tone can muster at the moment with the amount of pain he’s in. “I think it’s dislocated. It’s okay though. I’ve been though it before.”

“Yeah, same here. I had one when I was fifteen in gymnastics when I fell off the beams. What should we do?” She asks.

Peter bites his lip under his mask. He’s gotten a few dislocated shoulders over the years and Dr. Banner or Dr. Cho have been the ones to pop his shoulder back in. But they’re both trained medical professionals and they’ve probably set thousands of shoulders before.

He has no idea how to do that on his own.

“Peter?” Kate’s concerned voice takes him out of his thoughts.

He looks up at her, blinking, meeting her wide eyes.

“Are you okay?” She asks him.

“Y-Yeah,” he says, nodding as he becomes aware of the cold sensation washing over him, feeling goosebumps raise on his skin, followed by a sudden lightheadedness.

He's going into shock.

Kate’s eyes widen even further as she gently steadies him. “Maybe you should lie down?” She suggests.

“Y-Yeah… good idea.” Peter says as he slowly nods, starting to lie back down with Kate’s help.

Lying down doesn’t help much with all the pain he’s in but he feels less dizzy at least.

He closes his eyes for a moment. “Are the comms working?”

“Not since the last time I checked, maybe fifteen minutes ago?” Kate says with a disappointed sigh. “Let me try again,” she says, bringing her hand up to her ear, pressing on the comm. “Clint can you hear me? Clint?” She asks, pausing for a few beats of silence, listening. “Can anyone hear me?” She asks, only to be met with silence before she drops her hand with a sigh.

“Karen are you there?” Peter tries.

He’s met by silence as well. His suit must have been damaged enough to the pint that Karen is offline.

So they’re trapped under a collapsed building that could cave in at any moment, without medical supplies, food, water, or anyway to communicate with the team for help.

Things aren’t looking good for them.

A heavy silence falls over them for a few long minutes as they sit there, straining their ears to listen fort any signs that help is coming for them.

Kate breaks the silence by letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry I got us into this mess, Peter. I shouldn’t have gone into that room… I should have just listened to Clint. My first Avenger’s mission and I blew it—literally.”

Peter rolls his head slightly to the side to look up at her. “No you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did. If I hadn’t gotten locked in that stupid room, none of this would have happened and you…” She pauses as she looks down at him, tears pooling in her eyes. “You got hurt because of me, Pete.”

“I didn’t. None of this is your fault, Kate. It was an accident,” He tells her. “How were you supposed to know you would get locked in there?”

Kate remains silent as she looks down at the ground, silence settling over them once again.

“I’ve been trapped under a building before.” Peter says, swallowing hard.

Kate looks at him with a surprised expression on her tear-streaked face. “Really?”

Peter nods. “Yeah… it happened a few years ago when I was kind of new to being Spider-Man. I…” He stops as the memories of Homecoming night and being trapped under that building flash in his mind. “I was trying to stop a bad guy and the warehouse we were fighting in collapsed. He got away but I didn’t. I got out after a while but…” he goes to shrug, forgetting his injured shoulder, causing him to grit his teeth against the pain he’s met with from moving it.

“How did you get out?”

“I just… lifted it off myself?”

Kate raises an eyebrow. “You lifted a warehouse off yourself?”

“Pretty much.”

“Wow,” She says, blinking as her brows pull together. “I’m sorry you had to go through that but… that’s really cool though.”

Peter weakly smiles, only for it to drop. He was able to get himself out back then but now… he’s too injured and weak to even stand up.

He can’t get them out of this.

If the team doesn’t find them soon and if the building shifts just the slightest… they’re dead.

“Hey,” Kate says as she gently places a hand on his shoulder, seeming to sense his inner turmoil. “We’re going to be okay. The team will figure something out. They know we’re in here and they’ll get us out. I just know it.” She says, offering him a small, reassuring smile.

Peter hopes she’s right.

…

Time drags by slowly, but Peter guesses it’s been close to two hours now since he regained consciousness. During these hours, the pain in his shoulder has grown, so much to the point it’s almost unbearable for him.

Peter’s eyes are squeezed shut, his fist on his uninjured hand tightly clenched at his side as he tries to take deep, steady breaths, breathing through the pain. He took his mask off a while ago, with his suit being offline and it was getting annoying looking through one lens. He had kept it on, hoping Karen would suddenly come back online… but it’s clear that she won’t be, not with how ripped and damaged his suit is.

“Clint? Can you hear me? Clint… please answer me.” Kate repeats for probably the hundredth time by now, her voice breaking at the end.

In the unknown amount of time that has passed, communications have still been out, as well as Karen. Kate has been trying to contact the team the whole time, only to still receive silence in response. She’s even tried looking around for any way out of here, unfortunately finding none.

Peter has always been one to remain hopeful when things are looking bad but now… things aren’t looking good and their odds are… slim.

If they’re not able to get out of here and soon, the debris on top of them could collapse if the team is trying to dig them out or if they move anything wrong, or the tiny space they’re trapped in will run out of oxygen since there are no airways.

So it’s a little hard for him to be hopeful right now.

Plus the pain he’s in is making it difficult to have any kind of positivity.

Peter grits his teeth and closes his eyes as he slowly starts to sit up, heavily leaning on his good arm for support. Kate turns around and sees him getting up and rushes to his side.

“Here, Pete let me help.” She says as she helps him lean against a chunk of debris on the ground that’s not leaning against anything.

“T-Thanks.” Peter grits out, offering her a shaky smile.

She sits down next to him and lets out a sigh, resting her head against the debris, mirroring him. They remain silent for a few moments and with each that pass by, Peter’s pain seems to increase, if that’s even possible. He lets out a pained groan as he shifts against the debris, his injured arm limply laying in his lap.

Kate looks over at him with worried eyes, her brows pulled together in a frown. “Does it hurt?” She asks in a sympathetic, quiet voice.

Peter bites his lip, nodding. “Y-Yeah… a lot.” He admits.

Kate’s brows pull closer together as she looks down at his arm. “Is there anything we can do?”

Peter hesitates for a second. He knows what needs to be done but he doesn’t know how to do it and there’s a great chance that it could just end with him in even more pain and internal damage.

“I… I think we have to pop my shoulder back in.”

Kate’s eyes widen. “Have you ever done that before? Do you even know how to do that?”

Peter shakes his head. “No… but I’ve seen it done before. How hard can it be?”

“Peter—“

“I know, I’m really sorry I’m asking you to help me with this but… my healing is super fast and it could heal wrong if we don’t set it. No one’s coming… at least not anytime soon, so it’s now or never.”

Kate looks at him uncertainly, before her gaze shifts to his injured arm. She lets out a sigh. “Are you sure? I don’t want to make it worse.”

Honestly… he’s not sure.

But he doesn’t have a choice.

“I’m sure.”

…

After getting into position with Peter lying back down with Kate next to him, gently pulling his injured arm towards herself, Peter’s not so sure this is a good idea anymore.

The pain is excruciating.

Peter’s eyes are squeezed shut as he lets out a sharp hiss though his clenched teeth.

“Sorry,” Kate apologizes with a wince. “I really don’t know what I’m doing, Pete.” She tells him nervously.

“Y-You’re doing great,” Peter grits out. “J-Just keep pulling my arm towards you t-to create traction. T-The head of the humerus bone should slide under the shoulder blade a-and slip back in the socket.”

Kate shakily nods as she pulls his arm more, only sending more shockwaves of white, hot pain up and down it.

“Ugghhh…” Peter groans out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sorry! I’m sorry!” Kate apologizes again with a sympathetic look as she continues to pull.

He can feel the bones shifting in his shoulder and he feels a little like he’s about to throw up. It’s only a few moments later of Kate pulling his arm when they both hear a weird popping sound fill the air from Peter’s shoulder. Peter’s vision goes black for a few seconds when it happens as he lays there, trying to keep his breaths even as the pain dissipates, only a little bit. It still hurts like nothing he’s ever experienced before, but at least it’s less than before.

“Oh my God, Peter? Are you okay?”

Peter comes back slowly, as does his vision as he blinks a few, sluggish times. He sees that Kate is siting above him, with a panicked expression on his face.

He manages to lift the corner of his mouth into a tired smile. “I think it worked… it feels better.”

Kate closes her eyes and lets out a relieved breath. “Thank God,” She says before looking at him again. “What do we do now? Should we put your arm in a sling of some kind?”

Peter hums at the back of his throat, too exhausted to nod. “Probably a good idea.”

Kate picks up the flashlight she had put down next to them before she stands up, shining it around as she looks for something to make a sling out of. Unfortunately, there isn’t anything.  

“What about your webs? Could you make a sling or something?” She suddenly asks.

“Good idea. I can try,” He says as he lifts his good arm up and squints, looking at his web shooter in the semi-darkness. “I’ve never done something like that before though.”

Kate walks back over and kneels down beside him, pointing the flashlight at his web shooter.

“Do you think you can help me change the setting?” He asks her, holding his arm out to her.

“Yeah,” She says with a nod, putting the flashlight on the ground for the moment. “Just tell me what to do.”

“So right at the nozzle, there’s an adjustment ring with a few different settings. I think its the third one.” Peter tells her.

“Third one, got it.” Kate says as she puts her finger on the nozzle ring and starts to change the web setting.

When it’s set, she leans back as Peter gently presses his middle and ring finger on the trigger and a thick spray of webbing comes out, almost resembling cotton candy. He specifically designed it for webbing up any cuts or anything for medical situations such as the one they’re in now and it won’t evaporate like his other webs do. He presses a little harder and more comes out and he stops when he has a good amount of it.

Kate helps him slowly sit up and helps him position his injured arm in the makeshift web sling before bringing the webbing up around his neck, tying it in place to keep it steady. He feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulder now that it’s set and in the sling. Peter lets to a relieved breath as Kate helps him sit up against the debris from before once again.

“Thanks, Kate. Really… I don’t know what I would’ve done on my own. I’m sorry you’re stuck down here.”

“Hey, better that we’re together than one of us being alone, right?”

“I guess,” Peter says sadly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get us out in time.”

Kate’s brows pull together as she sits down next to him, shoulder to shoulder. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine, remember? I’m the one who got stuck in the secret room.”

“Kate-“

“No. You’re not taking the blame for this. It is my fault.” She snaps at him in an angry tone.

Silence falls over them for a few minutes. Peter doesn’t blame her for lashing out at him. This is a very stressful and scary situation they’re in and she has every right to be upset, so he doesn’t take it personally at all.

Kate lets out a sigh. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize. I get it.” He tells her, turning his head and offering her a small smile.

A small smile pulls at the corner of Kate’s mouth as she looks at him for a moment before looking in front of them again, her face dropping. She lets out another sigh.

“I hate to say this but… do you think they’re even looking for us? We’ve been down here for so long…”

“I know they are. Trust me. The team would turnover every piece of rubble here to find us. They probably called in experts to help them sort through all of this so they don’t risk it caving in on us.”

Kate nods. “Maybe.” She says, sounding a little unsure.

“I know that Clint wouldn’t rest until he found you. And Tony… he’s as stubborn as anything. The two of them wouldn’t give up on us, nor would the rest of the team.”

“But what if they don’t reach us in time? We’re going to eventually run out of oxygen down here. We probably are now. And not to mention, like you said, the risk of this place caving in on us.”

Peter’s brows pull together in a frown. He’s been thinking about that the whole time. He closes his eyes and rests his head back against the debris behind them.

Does he think that the team will reach them in time?

He hopes they do… but their chances of surviving before they find them are looking pretty slim, all things considered.

And to think, the last thing he said to Tony was that he wasn’t his dad. Peter’s stomach sinks as guilt flows through him at the sudden realization. If he dies, Tony is going to repeat that in his head forever and blame himself for this. All thanks to Peter.

Peter blinks open his eyes and stares up at the debris above them, swallowing around the growing lump in his throat as tears start to pool in his eyes. He feels a few warm tears escape and slide down his face.

He’s never going to be able to tell Tony how sorry he is.

Tony is just the one who taught him how to shave, how to drive, how to tie a tie, how to fix problems with a car, what it takes and means to be a hero, and a whole bunch of other things.

But more importantly, Tony’s always been there for him.

He’s been there for him when he wakes up from nightmares, during panic and anxiety attacks, through hard times, when Peter has wanted to give up being Spider-Man—especially after the whole situation with the multiverse villains and the Goblin trying to kill May.

Through all of it, Tony has been the number one person there for him in his life, always lending his help and a shoulder to cry on.

That sounds a lot like a dad.

Tears freely flow down Peter’s cheeks as he deeply regrets what he said to Tony. He wishes more than anything that he could call him, one last time and tell him how truly sorry he is.

A sudden shift in the rubble causes Peter’s eyes to snap open as Kate lets out a gasp.

“What was that?” She asks in a fearful voice.

Peter frowns but before he can say anything, another shift comes. Kate moves closer to Peter, bumping his good shoulder as they both look up at the debris piled above them with wide, fearful eyes. Kate wraps her arm through his good one, the two huddled up together.

This is it.

They really are going to die down here.

“K-Kate… I’m so sorry this happened. B-But I want you to know, that you’ve become one of my closest friends this past year and I s-seriously can’t thank you enough for being there for me.” Peter says, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“S-Same here. I-I don’t have many friends but when I met you, I felt like I’ve always known you and yes I know how cheesy that sounds! Just—thank you for being there for me too.” Kate tells him.

The large chunk of rubble above them shifts and they squeeze close to each other.

But… the debris doesn’t fall and crush them.

It goes… up?

Peter opens his eyes and looks up, only for a bright beam of light to meet his eyes, causing him to close them again. Behind his closed lids, he can see more light breaking through the dark space they’ve been trapped in for all of these countless hours.

“Over here! We found them!” A voice suddenly yells from above.

Peter squints his eyes open and sees none other than Steve Rogers standing above them before the soldier drops down into the crater-like hole they’re in.

“Oh my God,” Kate says as she lifts her head from Peter’s shoulder. “Are we dead or is this actually happening?”

Peter breathes out a laugh through his nose as he drops his head back against the debris behind them, his mouth turning up into a weak smile. “It’s really happening.”

“Are you guys hurt?” Steve asks as he kneels down in front of them, his blue, concerned eyes scanning them.

“Yeah. Peter’s shoulder was dislocated. We set it—at least I hope we did.”

“Dr. Banner is waiting to check the both of you out on the Quintet. Let’s-“

“Peter!”

Peter looks up, only to see Tony standing above the hole, lout of his suit, ooking down with wide, fearful eyes, looking like absolute crap. He has dirt all over his face, like he’s been digging though all of this debris, which he most likely has been. He climbs down into the hole and rushes over before he falls to his knees at Peter’s side, his hands hovering over him as he takes in what Peter guesses to be his body appearance. He probably looks worse than Tony does right now.

All at once, Peter’s throat tightens again and tears spring back to his eyes. “Tony-“ he says, his voice cracking.

Tony immediately leans down and carefully wraps his arms around him in a hug. Peter lets out a shaky exhale as he buries his face in Tony’s neck.

“It’s alright, Pete. I’ve got you. You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” Tony tells him, holding the back of Peter’s head.

“Kate!” Peter hears Cline’s voice from somewhere, but he’s too focused on the fact that he and Kate are alive and saved, and now he’s wrapped up in Tony’s arms.

“T-Tony, I-I’m so s-sorry for what I said.” Peter wetly says.

“Don’t worry about it, Pete-“

“N-No,” Peter says as he shakes his head, pulling away from Tony’s chest. “I-I was thinking about it the whole time being down here. I-I thought…” He stops and closes his eyes for a moment, swallowing hard. “I thought I wouldn’t ever see you again. A-And what I said to you… was horrible. I-I’m so sorry. I love you so much and you’re the closest thing I’ve ever had to a dad. A-And I… I do look at you like you are. I’m just so sorry.” Peter says as tears stream down his face.

Tony’s face falls as he smiles, pulling Peter back to his chest. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Pete. It’s okay. I wasn’t being fair. I should have just trusted you to go in on your own without help. I’m sorry. But let me tell you, we are going to have a serious conversation about you running into buildings that are about to explode, young man." He says in a fake, stern voice.

Peter manages to wetly laugh at that. “Deal.”

That’s one lecture that he’ll be glad to hear because he’s thankfully alive to hear it.

#whumptober2022 #no12. #cave in #no.13 #dislocation #no.14 #failed escape #no.15 #breathing through the pain #no.16 #no one's coming. #tw: dislocated shoulder #tw: stuck under collapsed building #Spider-Man #fic #hurt/comfort #whump #Peter Parker #Tony Stark #Iron Man #Kate Bishop #Clint Barton #Hawkeye #Steve Rogers #Captain America #Avengers #Poor Peter Parker #Peter Parker Whump #Kate Bishop Whump #Hurt Peter Parker

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Stand By Your Man

Whumptober 2022: 13. Dislocation, 31. Comfort Fandom: Outer Range, Rhett Abbott Word Count: 1919 TW: Shoulder Dislocation, Pain, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting Note: Based on the scene in Episode 8 of Outer Range.

You knew Rhett Abbott better than almost anyone else alive. The two of you had been best friends since elementary school, began dating junior year of high school, and had been engaged for the past year. Plus, you had been his head chute assistant since his very first bull ride. You knew when he was on top of the world, and when something was wrong. And from the second he was thrown from his bull and slammed into the ground, you knew something was very wrong.

You saw the way his eyes bulged as all the muscles in his jaw and neck clenched and tightened. How his fingers frantically clawed into the dirt as he tried to grasp onto something, anything. The way he struggled to rise to his feet even as the bull bucked and kicked inches from his prone, shaking body. You flew from your spot at the other end of the arena and rushed toward him.

By the time you cleared the distance, one of the barrelmen had managed to grab Rhett and haul him into the safety of one of the chutes. As you approached, he was staring woefully up at the scoreboard, and you glanced up just in time to see the results from his last ride drop his name to last place.

While equally as disappointed, at that moment all you cared about was the safety and well-being of your fiancé. Peering through the bars of the chute, you called out, “Rhett!”

Turning towards the sound of your voice, he stumbled to you, his right arm grasping his left so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The second he was out of the arena, your hands were all over him, roaming over his body as you tried to assess his injuries. “What is it? What happened?”

“Shoulder.” The single word dripped with pain as he thrust it through gritted teeth. When your fingers lightly brushed across the damaged spot, his face screwed up in agony.

Looking around quickly to make sure no one else had noticed his injury, you led him over to a secluded area behind the bleachers. However, your blood soon ran cold as you examined his injuries. You bit your lip in an attempt to hide your concern as you glanced up at him. “Baby…. This looks really bad. Your shoulder is dislocated at least. Probably worse. You can’t ride like this.”

“Just one more round. 8 seconds. That’s all I need.” His words were curt and choppy as he tried to spit them out through his clenched jaw.

“Rhett! It’s 8 seconds on top of a 2-thousand-pound bull with nothing to hold you on but your injured arm. If something goes wrong…. You could be killed.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be disqualified.” When he looked at you, his eyes were silently pleading with you through the pain. “If I move on, this’ll be our best chance ta get outta here. Once an’ for all. I can still win, I just…. I need your help.”

“Baby, I…. There are more important things than winning. I just…. it’s too dangerous. I can’t…” You tried to express exactly what you were feeling, yet the words wouldn’t come.

His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared as he glared at you. “Fine. You don’t have ta help. Just don’t stand in my way.” He swerved passed you, careful to avoid bumping his injured shoulder as he headed back towards the arena.

You stared after him, debating your next move. You could walk away, just head up into the stands and watch what happened during his ride or even walk out of the stadium, but you knew your nerves could never handle either of those scenarios. You could also go report him. One word to anyone on the medical team and they would pull him immediately. However, that would also be the end of your relationship. Rhett would never forgive you for getting him disqualified, especially against his explicit wishes. So, that left you with one option.

With a heavy sigh, you followed after your fiancé. He was leaning heavily against the side of the gate, watching the next rider as he tumbled to the ground. Another poor run, which meant Rhett had an even better chance of advancing. But only if he rode again.

You stood next to him silently for a moment as they cleared the arena for the next bout. Then, you muttered, “If nothing else, I’m gonna have to pop your arm back into place. You won’t even be able to grip the rope like this.”

His eyes darted to yours as a silent “thanks” passed between you. However, as he opened his mouth to say something, you quickly grabbed his arm and pulled. Rhett doubled over and he let out a strangled grunt, but you felt his arm slide back into its socket. Gently letting go of it, you leaned over and placed a long kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it would be easier that way. At least the worst of it is over.”

Rhett slowly straightened, panting slightly as he said, “Thanks. Feels a little better.” Yet you watched as he tried to flex his fingers and another wave of pain shot across his face. Keeling over once more, he vomited weakly into the dust.

You squeezed your eyes together as you bit your lip, trying not to let the tears that were welling up in your eyes fall. Seeing Rhett in this much pain caused a physical ache in your chest and you knew whatever agony he was showing you was only a fraction of what he was really feeling. But there was nothing more you could do, so you just lay your hand on his hunched shoulders and rubbed soothing circles up and down his back.

After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Can you go get me a beer?” he asked hoarsely as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Giving his right shoulder a soft squeeze, you cooed, “Yeah, baby. Of course. I’ll be right back.”

When you returned a few moments later with a cold beer in your hand, Rhett was crouched down with his arm held tightly against his chest. You offered him the can and he gratefully took it from you. After taking a long swig, he swirled the liquid around in his mouth and spat it into the dirt. Then he downed the rest of the beer in one long chug.

When he nodded softly at you, you gently wrapped your hands around his uninjured arm and helped haul him to his feet. He still flinched, yet the pain didn’t seem to be as bad as before. Sighing, he began to walk back over to the chute but you stopped him.

Grasping his face between your hands, you forced him to look at you. “Rhett. If you can’t do this, it’ll be okay. Don’t throw away your entire career by going out there and hurting yourself worse. There’ll be other competitions, other rides. I’ll stand behind you, whatever you decide, just don’t let your pride destroy you.”

Rhett stared into your eyes from underneath his hat. “I can do this. I know I can.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Then you get out there and show them what you got.”

For the first time since climbing onto the bull back in the chute, a hint of a smile fluttered across Rhett’s face. He tilted your chin back so he could place a firm kiss on your lips before pulling back and resting the brim of his hat against your forehead. Stroking your cheek, he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmured back. “Now we have to go before you’re disqualified.”

You helped Rhett back over to the chute just as his bull was being loaded up. A few of the other guys shot you a questioning glance as they saw how Rhett was holding his arm, but you flashed them an icy glare and they instantly backed down. You had been working with most of these guys long enough for them to know if you said Rhett was good to go, he was good to go. You just hoped this time you weren’t lying.

Over the loud snorts and bellows of the bull, you could just make out Rhett’s groans of pain as Tom and Kyle helped lower him onto the beast. You just hoped you were the only one who noticed. 

Rhett’s eyes flickered to yours for a moment before glancing down at the bull rope next to his hand. Immediately, you understood. While his shoulder was no longer dislocated, he was still too weak and in too much pain to secure the rope as tightly as it needed to be. Without a word, you leaned over and coiled the rope around his hand before closing his fingers around it. You gave his fist a reassuring squeeze. He gave you a soft nod of thanks. 

As everyone began retreating from the chute, you saw Rhett glance up into the stands and you watched as his face fell. You knew exactly who he was looking for, and it somehow didn’t surprise you when you looked to the spot his family always sat and found only an empty hole. Not a single one of them had stayed to watch Rhett’s last ride. 

Swallowing your anger and disgust, you gently grabbed Rhett’s chin and turned his face so he had to drag his gaze away from the stands. Once his eyes met yours, you smiled and whispered, “Hey… you got this, baby. Now, give ‘em hell.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he dipped his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek one last time before you jumped off the side of the chute and ran over to the edge of the arena to watch his ride. Just before they opened the gate, you took a deep breath and held it. 

Seconds later, Rhett’s bull exploded from the chute with Rhett clinging on tightly with one hand, the other held high in the air. He didn’t quite have his usual grace and agility, but all things considered, he was doing a lot better than you thought he would. 

Come on, baby. Just eight seconds. You can do it. Just hold on.

The timer illuminated on the scoreboard had never moved so slowly before. Each second seemed to drag on for an hour or more. But finally, it reached the blessed 8 and the siren sounded but you barely heard it over the sound of your cheers. 

Rhett tumbled off the side of the bull and scurried to his feet to avoid being trampled. He managed to get to the chute safely but you still couldn’t relax yet. As soon as you saw he was safe, your eyes shot to the scoreboard. Once again, time seemed to stop as you waited for his scores to fill the board. appear………………

"Yes!" you screamed as the scores began scrolling across the board. It was an amazing total, more than enough to make up for his first ride and secure him a spot in the championship. "That's my man!" 

Rhett must have heard you because he turned towards the sound of your voice, his face beaming under the arena lights. When he spotted you, he exaggeratedly mouthed I love you. You grinned and replied I love you too. 

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @mayhem24-7forever, @hederasgarden, @wildbornsiren, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @11thstreetvigilante, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

#whumptober #whumptober2022 #whumptober 2022 #fic #no.13 #no.31 #dislocation #comfort #outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #lewis pullman #angst #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt & comfort #shoulder dislocation tw #pain tw

[paradoxesofgalaxies]

I got woken up by trigeminal pain this morning hours after less than four hours of sleep 🫠

After meds, heat, and ice, the pain is under control but I'm exhausted and defeated

#I'm so so tired #and of course once again both shoulders were dislocated #galactic gab #vent tw #bone fuckery

[punk-pandame]

note to self: do not tear rotator cuff during holidays

#the er was helpful! i did not dislocate or fracture anything. the tech and nurse responsible for me #knew a bit about connective tissue disorders and tried very hard to be gentle with me. it didn't even hurt at that point #literally only started hurting after the exams #the sling helps #but i cant get the ultrasound on my shoulder to confirm its a rotator cuff tear because everythings closed #and my rheum and primary care both want to do an exam on me before they give me a referral which is stupid cause the er already did all tha #so its gonna be. a while. #for me to get this fixed #i started getting the muscle spasms last night but the er gave me a muscle relaxer and it helped #but the pharmacy is also closed so i cant get them #i suppose i will just be stoned the entire weekend #owie #textpost #injury #injury tw #shitty flesh prison