#women whump | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunnynwanda · 6 months ago

Note

Hello hello, dear brilliant writer. May I request a female hero × male villain, the hero is hurt and needs help and is basically dying but won't let villain get near them at ANY cost.

You fill the rest with your beautiful imagination ✨ 💕

Not his day

Today was not Villain's day.

Not only did he oversleep, but his coffee machine decided to be an ass today of all days and exploded in his face. Some jackass bumped into his car on the way to the hospital, and he was late to work. If that wasn't enough, his shift was hell. So much so that Villain almost forgot how fucked up the day had been from the start. That is until he got beeped to the ER again, for the seventh time that night and on his fourteenth coffee for a meal.

Villain made his way to the first floor, rushing because the case was marked as urgent, only to freeze the moment he entered the room, spotting the person on the bed. The idiot - his idiot - was flailing her arms around, demanding to be let go despite the long gash on her right side. Villain made his way over with a heavy sigh, only to get a pillow thrown his way.

"Hey, stop that," Villain warns, turning towards the nurse with a row of orders before returning his attention to Hero in all her chaotic glory. "I need to check your wound."

"No way in hell," Hero sneers, earning an eye roll from Villain. She leans back against the bed when her vision blurs. "Don't come near me."

"Let me see," he demands, not about to let her bleed out in a goddamn hospital. Not on his shift.

"Get the hell away from me," she practically yells, making Villain flinch because his head hurts as is. Hero's screeching was the last thing he needed today.

"You stubborn idiot, let me see it!" His patience is paper thin at this point, the godforsaken idiot of his already looking too pale. "You're bleeding out." He states bluntly.

"I won't let you maul me," Hero counters, defiant despite the sharp pangs piercing through her entire torso. She shifts back on the bed, wincing at the ripples of pain radiating from the wound all the way to her chest.

"I'm a doctor, you dimwit!" Villain growls, his eyes flaring with anger at the sight of her sore wincing. "I took an oath; I can't harm you."

Hero scoffs at that, sending him a deadpan look. He takes in Hero's cocked brow, correcting himself with an exasperated sigh. "I can't harm you here."

Villain waits until the nurse brings in the necessary supplies and gestures for her to leave the room. Once they are alone, he steps closer to the bed. "Who even did this?"

"None of your business," Hero grits through her teeth, still not giving up the cautious act but no longer attempting to throw anything at Villain.

"Oh, it is very much my business; you're my nemesis," he protests, eyeing her as he puts on a pair of gloves.

"I have other enemies, you know?" Hero informs matter-of-factly. Something about Villain's expression and approach makes her determination to avoid being treated by him crumble.

"I'm wounded, darling!" Villain exclaims overdramatically, his hand flying up to his chest. "Are you cheating on me?"

Hero rolls their eyes, unable to hide the amused grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Oh, shut up."

"So you are," Villain nods slowly, his lips twitching into a smirk despite the concerned crease of his brow. "Knew it, pretty girls are never faithful."

"Excuse me?" Hero reacts before he can backtrack or bite his tongue. "Did you just call me pretty?"

"You're hallucinating," he claims, trying to come up with a believable explanation. He cuts Hero's shirt open to properly inspect the wound and to keep his hands busy. "Must be the concussion."

"I'm not concussed," Hero counters, now full-on grinning. Villain's inability to meet her gaze suddenly seems more important than her injury.

"Blood loss?" Villain suggests, sounding as unconvincing as it gets. If his hands weren't wrist-deep covered in her blood, he'd slap himself for such a lame excuse.

Wow, he forgot today was not his day.

"All my blood is inside," Hero claims, letting out a sharp breath when his fingers palpate the injured area. "Just where it should be."

"God, the medical specialist in me is dying to throttle you," he bites back, looking positively scandalized and earning a pained chuckle from Hero.

"But?" She prompts, sitting up to get a better look at Villain's expression and grinning cockily at his faux irritation. "What's stopping you?"

"That damn charming smile, that's what," Villain grumbles under his breath, rolling his eyes when Hero's grin grows wider. "Now get your ass back on the bed and let me take a proper look at that monstrosity."

A/N: Hey there, love :) Oh, isn't this just delicious! I had some fun with this, I gotta admit. Thank you for requesting, I hope you enjoy it! 💛☀️

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

86 notes · View notes

paingoes · 6 months ago

Text

Cuckoo Egg

@echo-goes-aaa: Speaking of uniforms Slave whumpee belongs to a general in the army. As a punishment for being "disrespectful and ungrateful" the general puts him in uniform and sends him out "on mission" to "see what I do for you" Whumpee gets captured by the enemy, and it's only after an interrogation that the enemy realizes something is very very wrong with this soldier...

@sowhumpshaped: sucks to suck! saying this to both whumpee and the enemy. idiots lol also there goes a perfectly good general uniform, ugh. whumper's never getting that back

inspired by this post. i really couldn’t get over how much i loved this prompt, i wrote something out last night! it ran a little long so this is part one of two. i’ll upload the next section soon.

(Content: verbal abuse, implied physical abuse, institutionalized slavery, military content, minor character death, fear, begging, lot of crying, blood)

========================

“I didn’t mean it like-,” The sharp look his master gives him cuts off his speech. Cillian shrinks back in on himself, tucking his chin into his chest protectively.

“Did you iron the flag as I instructed you to? Yes or no?”

“No, sir.” Cillian says through gritted teeth.

“Did you take care to make sure the emblems on the uniforms were in their proper state? Yes or no?”

“No, sir.”

“When you disrespect the symbols of our nation, do you disrespect those who have given their lives so that you may live? Yes or no?”

“No, sir,” Cillian answers automatically. His eyes widen.

“No?” The general asks, danger in his voice.

“Yes, sir.” Cillian corrects himself.

“That’s right. And when I asked you why you had neglected your duties like that, did you accept your failure and apologize? Or did you talk back to me and disrespect me further?” The general stares at him, as if challenging him to argue more.

“I talked back, sir.” Cillian lowers his head in apology.

The general taps the riding crop against his own leg. Cillian flinches, but it does not strike him immediately. The general bounces it idly, as if caught in deep contemplation. Cillian waits, barely breathing.

“I don’t think you appreciate the sacrifices we make every day for you. You’ve been sheltered all your life. If you spent a day out in that heat, you’d shrivel up. Where is your gratitude, son? Don’t you have any respect?”

Cillian looks down. It’s not a question he’s meant to respond to. He can recognize when he’s being scolded. The general’s voice booms throughout the small space. Small, stinging tears begin to form at the boy’s eyes. The general gives him a disgusted look.

“Maybe you would benefit from a day in the field. Would it stop you from crying your eyes out everytime you get disciplined?”

It is decided for him that quickly. He’s sent immediately to bed, knowing well he’s expected to rise early the following morning. He blinks and the sun is up.

The general dresses him personally. He is particular about the details. Cillian only catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He has seen the soldiers brought into the manor. They have been large, strapping. Their muscles bulged out from beneath their uniforms, the fabric well-worn and natural looking. On Cillian, the effect is clownish. It hangs off him loosely. His sleeves and pant legs both have to be rolled up and pinned.

His master guides him forward, his hand clamped tightly over Cillian’s shoulder. For better or worse, the encampment is not set up far from their current lodging. Cillian is dropped off without fanfare, rolling out onto the hot sand of the desert.

He falls in line. One of the officers was made to expect him. She retrieves him quickly from the entryway, shuffling him in amongst the other soldiers. He’s noticeably shorter than most of them, just barely meeting the height requirements for enlistment.

It was only meant to be a day trip. At the same time, she understands the exercise is punitive. She puts him onto one of the offroaders set to leave that morning. It pushes off into the hottest parts of the desert, well past where the gore begins but where it’s unlikely to see any action. There is not much that is required of him. She does not care enough about making a point to endanger her own mission. All he has to do is keep watch. He is not — under any circumstances — to be given a gun.

Cillian shifts uncomfortably in the seat. The leather burns him even through the uniform. The other soldiers there are content to ignore him. He gazes out into the horizon, his eyes catching on the painted rocks that jut out from the sand. The craters in the ground become more and more frequent the further they go. The offroader shakes in protest as it hits another one.

“Whoops,” the driver lets out a laugh, pulling over before the whole thing topples. They’re close enough, anyway. The soldiers pour out. Cillian climbs to the top of the vehicle. The sun beats down on him immediately. His neck quickly burns up. The dark brown of his hair captures the heat. It makes him feel feverish.

The pack takes off further into the desert and in between the painted rocks. They carry their devices with them; gunpowder, thick coils of wire, shovels. It’s not demolition day today, but it will be when the insurgents next arrive on the scene.

You can imagine their shock when they are already waiting for them.

They’re dressed in slick black despite the desert heat. Their bikes are tucked safely into the shade of the rocks. Almost thirty of them are pressed against the rock face, all of them armed. Outnumbered two to one, there is no fight.

Cillian isn’t fast enough. Of course he’s not fast enough. He falls quick and hard when they catch him, his hands bound up with zipties before he can even see the face of the man doing it. He does catch a glimpse of the soldiers fleeing. Most die before they reach the threshold. The bag is pulled securely over his head and the last thing he sees is the blood boiling in the sand.

===================

There’s a hand against his face.

“The fuck? Did you waterboard him or something?” A voice says, feeling the dampness of the fabric.

“No. Crying, probably.”

“That’s hysterical,” The voice says flatly.

Cillian thrashes as his wrists are yanked back. The knife nicks him. Its wielder curses. The ziptie breaks abruptly, but his hands are pulled in front of him just as quickly. He whimpers as the cold steel bites into his wrists, pinning both his hands to the surface. The hands depart and the door slams shut. It is dark and silent and cold.

He has no way of knowing how much time has passed, but the bag is abruptly yanked from his head. Even the dim light of the room is shocking to him after the hours spent in darkness. He winces. Tear tracks stain his face. His eyes adjust enough to just make out the features of the woman standing in front of him.

Black eyes. Black hair. It falls off her shoulders in sharp edges. Strangely pale skin. Her eyes don’t blink. Her blank expression does not change. She leans against the table, only inches from his face.

“I swear they get younger every year,” She mutters to herself.

“Please let me go,” He sobs. “Please, please.”

It’s like she doesn’t even hear him. Cillian gets the overwhelming urge to hide himself. Her stare seems to go right though him, so much he begins to think she isn’t here for him after all. He’s just in her sightline by mistake. Stupidly, he glances behind him. It’s a blank wall. When he looks back, her expression hasn’t changed. She still hasn’t moved an inch.

She tilts her head as if it’s about to roll off her shoulders.

“What’s your name?” Her affect is flat and cold.

“C-Cillian,” he sniffles.

“Sicilian?”

“My name is Cillian,” he takes a shaky breath.

“Hello, Cillian. My name is Nicolette.”

Her slowness is agonizing. The silence hangs in the air, interrupted only by Cillian’s little gasps for air.

“Please let me go,” he repeats, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please.”

It seems like the silence will go on forever. He startles a bit when she is first to break it.

“Cillian, why did you try to bomb us?” She asks.

How could he possibly answer? He panics at the question.

“I didn’t- I’m not-. I’m not with them,” he manages, cut off by his own sobs.

“Cillian?”

He glances up.

“I don’t like liars.”

She withdraws from the table. Her hand disappears behind her back, appearing just as quickly. She places the dagger gently down on the table. She fixes him with a final look before she withdraws from the room. The door slams shut again. His frightened sobs are still audible even down the hall.

=================

She’s perched above him on the table, rolling the knife between her fingers. She rests her head in her other hand, her eyes narrowed. Cillian sobs, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as he can. The cuffs make it impossible. She’s practically sitting on his hands.

“Cillian.”

He regrets having given her his name. He flinches at the sound of it.

“Are you going to be good?”

It’s a familiar question. His mouth answers before his brain can catch up.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, I kinda like that,” she says, as if she’s surprised too. He blushes. She doesn’t notice. His face is already flush from crying nonstop. He jumps in alarm as her hand suddenly presses up against his chest.

“No,” he mutters in protest.

She flattens out the insignia on his breast pocket. “E5, sergeant? That’s not bad.”

“It’s just a uniform,” he whines in protest, about to break down again.

“Cillian,” she says in warning, “Enough games. You know what I want.”

“No I don’t!” He protests, “I’m not enlisted, I’m not-“

She cuts him off with a sharp slap. Again, his reaction is involuntary. He curls in on himself.

“I’m sorry,” he says weakly.

Nicolette withdraws her hand, placing it back in her lap.

“They’re carving out supply tracks along the Eastern Stretch. Why? What’s the target?”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, absolute misery entering his voice, “I don’t know. I’m not part of it.”

A brief look of frustration crosses her face. He almost misses it. He’s been so trained to anticipate that twinge of annoyance, he reflexively flinches.

Nicolette stops twirling the knife. His breath catches. It’s poised at such an angle that it’d be very easy to just stab him in the chest and end this whole thing. She moves the tip down by his fingers instead. It doesn’t touch, not yet.

“I don’t know,” he curls his hands up into fists, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, ma’am. I don’t know. Please. Please.”

“You seem like such a nice kid. Why are you making this so hard on yourself?”

“I’m not trying to,” he sniffles, “I’m sorry. I’m annoying you, I know. I’m not trying to.”

“You aren’t annoying me,” Nicolette says. She does not elaborate.

The tears start back up. He doesn’t speak again. Nicolette twirls the knife on the table, its tip making a small dent in the surface.

“You know, in the old days of the war, your men would cut the noses and ears off of ours. When they’d come back to village, we could barely recognize them. They didn’t die from it. Neither did we. They only meant to terrify us. It’s the fear that gets you. It’s always the fear.”

Cillian twists his neck, wiping his face on his shoulder. He shivers.

“I’m sorry,” He says.

“Me too.” She stops twirling the knife, holding it firmly within her fist.

“I’m sorry,” he yelps, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, god, please. Please, I don’t know. If I did I would tell you. Please, please, don’t.”

He jumps back in the seat, his wrists still fastened firmly to the table. Her silence draw on. She doesn’t move. He keeps talking.

“I don’t know, I’m not lying, I promise, I don’t know. Please don’t. I wasn’t even supposed to be here today. I’m not one of them. It’s a mistake.”

“Some mistake,” she says, but she still doesn’t move. His crying is too out of control for him to speak further.

“Do you need more time to think about it?” She asks patiently.

“No,” he insists, “I don’t know.”

She drives the knife clear through his palm.

(continued here)

#whump #whump community #whump scenario #whump prompt #verbal abuse #implied physical abuse #institutionalized slavery #military content #minor character death #fear #begging #blood #military whump #interrogation #me writing women: theyre like cats right???? women are like cats????#female whumper #crying

79 notes · View notes

wren-l-winter · 12 days ago

Text

“What did I tell you?”

Whumpee panted, choking back tears as the cool air caressed her bare, throbbing ass. “Please,” she whispered.

Whumper grabbed a handful of hair, wrenching it back at an unnatural angle. “What did I say?”

“If-if I flinch,” she gasped, “we start over.”

“That’s right.” Whumper dropped her head. “You’re making my arm tired with all this nonsense.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be. Now stay fucking still.”

#not a prompt #lesbian whump #female villain #female whumper #female whumpee #whump #whumper #whumpee #ass beating #tw abuse #lesbian #sapphic #wlw #i love evil women #i love evil lesbians #whumpee x whumper #whumper x whumpee

36 notes · View notes

cherryinterlude · 6 months ago

Text

Owen Teague as Harold Lauder in The Stand (2020)

#my feeble willowy pathetic pillbug #on his stomach and paralyzed with another man on top of him - he was in HEAT #found it interesting how the man was like “im an alpha and i'm gonna assert dominance over women”#but he spent the entire scene grinding against harold and snarling over him like he was his last meal #5 stars for owen whimpering moaning and writhing in pain because of a burly man overpowering him #whump #owen teague #harold lauder #the stand 2020

120 notes · View notes

women-in-writing · 4 months ago

Text

Women in Whump: Superpower Edition 1

- Teen sidekick forced to do her hero's grunt work, i.e. mending costumes, fixing the car, investigating the sewers etc.

- Woman picking gravel from her thighs after a fight because her costume is too revealing.

- Woman with healing/ regenerative powers being the teams go-to sparring partner because they know they don't need to go easy on her.

- Supervillain who's betrayed by her compatriots, left bleeding out as her doomsday device is stolen.

- Young girl chased out of town by a religious mob when her powers manifest in a church.

- Woman with powers who's abducted by the US government so they can experiment on her.

- Abused woman who's powers flare-up, killing her abuser and forever branding her a murderess and villain.

- Black superhero who's still harassed and accosted by police even in her costume, even when saving people.

- Teen girl desperately trying to hide her powers has a flare-up at school that destroys an entire building, prompting the government to lock her away to keep civilians safe.

Non-con under the cut!!

- Woman who's prisoner of someone with mind control powers who's forced into sex.

- Villainess who's gang-raped by the Hero team as part of her 'rehabilitation'.

- Only woman on superhero team who's raped after every mission as a way of celebration or letting off steam for the others.

- Woman with past sexual trauma who's still forced to wear a skimpy costume as a hero.

- Supervillain who's betrayed and assaulted by her henchmen. When they're finished the heroes arrest and handcuff her before she's even given clothes.

#whump #lady whump #superpower whump #hero whump #villain whump #non con whump #women in whump

47 notes · View notes

citrine-elephant · 15 days ago

Text

thinking about poor leon getting the "fuck your legs" treatment from krauser, but he just cuts the tendons in his knees so he can't run

too much trouble, that pretty boy. krauser knows his tricks, and leon's very very slippery. a shame he's gotta do it...

#leon whump ideas #body horror #whump #still thinking of that dream #kinda wanna sketch out old man leon with his knees all ouched up #idk medically how it'd work but i am thinking about a terrible scene from a terrible movie -#where the women who survived couldn't run because their knees were fyucked up

22 notes · View notes

womenwhump · 3 months ago

Text

Yona of the Dawn

#yona of the dawn #akatasuki no yona #woman whumpee #woman whump #female whump #women whump #lady whump #whump #anime whump #manga whump #caretaker whump #whumplr #whump blog #female whumpee #lady whumpee #princess yona #injury whump #emotional whump

8 notes · View notes

cepheusgalaxy · 3 months ago

Text

CAHAM since it's lesbian day i feel like we need a good ol lesbian prompt:

Power imbalance whump where Whumper is the boss of a team and Whumpee is one of her top agents. But she only acts in her own interests, so stubborn and defiant, until... well, let's say Whumper has a way to be pretty convincing, and the rest of the team is quite impressed. Whumpee has never been that obedient! I mean, not exactly obedient, but she will get in line as soon as Whumper enters the room. Bonus points for one sided romance or dubcon!

Now, moving onto something a little healthier, Whumpee who is a living weapon. Classic; she hadn't ever known affection or care, until she is rescued or perhaps even captured, until Caretaker is put in the picture. Caretaker, the first woman, the first person, that's ever shown her an ounce of kindness, and oh, she doesn't know if she can even love or care for someone like that, but if it's for Caretaker, she'll give her heart and life if needed. All of her. (Perhaps not that healthy, tho.)

Or perhaps, moving on to other territorry, multiple whumpees scenario where Whumpee A and B are in a terrible situation, but A protects B at all costs: No, don't torture her, choose me. I don't need the food, give it to her. You can take my limbs, just please don't touch her. Not her. Me. And what can B do, if not watch? Maybe they were lovers, maybe she and A already knew each other but didn't notice each other's feelings until... well. Until A put her whole self on the fire just so B could be safe. Maybe they didn't even knew each other. Maybe A is just like that, maybe A felt like she needed to protect the other whumpee as soon as they met, maybe A wants to repay a favor (that B doesn't even remember, in true Heaven's Official's Blessing fashion), maybe B is valuable in some way (a rare species? a promising magician? someone A was put in charge to protect?) and A feels like she's not even close to be as worth her. She's less. She can take it. As long as it means keeping B safe.

(And maybe, as a bonus, torture B in front of A? Just to see her despair? As she feels that she failed? As she screams and shivers on the floor and her eyes fill with tears, and her ears, with static, pulling helplessly at her constraints, or fighting the inability to help with all those previous injuries she fought so hard to get?)

And lastly, to close it and wrap it up as a gift, multiple whumpers. That's not someting I see a lot, but it is pretty interesting. Whumper A and B who are a couple. Each one of them has a preferred torture method, or maybe one of them is batshit sadistic and the other just sighs and helps her. Oh, what one doesn't do in the name of love! Maybe they are partners in business, and one provides all the other needs for her deeds. Maybe each of them has their own whumpees—perhaps in a setting of BBU? Maybe Whumper B is even a loyal knight to A, her living weapon and torturer, and B doesn't even regret it. A is her mistress, her everything. She doesn't really care about the others. A treats her well, A's saved her. And really, what is a bit more of blood in her hands to see her shining smile? And well—she thinks while A pets her hair after her hands are washed in fancy soap in a fancy bathub above the dungeons where their latest work lays, screaming hoarse—it's not like she can't enjoy the ordeal a bit too, right?

17 notes · View notes