#grumpy umpy

[thatonefishfriend]

A self indulgent one as i wait to see King in canon again😤

[jhoneybees]

Grumpy.

Ooooo a Greg Nolan ficcccc! Ok this one I just had to write as smut because oh how I love my hubby, my pumpy umpy umpkin, huggy bearrr Greggy Nolannn(sorry if they was cringe as hell-) Hope you enjoy!🤭

Characters: Greg Nolan X wife!reader

Warnings/triggers: SMUTTTT, argument, angry sex, fingering, handjob, spanking, swearing, Greg being rough, use of daddy

Tags: @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a @theelvisprincess @thelonelyheart @polksaladava @hooked-on-elvis

_____________________________________________

Greg has been in such a grumpy mood lately and you know it’s his job that’s poking at him, you’re quite proud of how well he’s managing his anger because there were times where he took it too far and hurt some people’s feelings and you made sure to talk to him about it. You’ve been married to him for 6 years now and really, you’re still surprised how easy it is to annoy Greg, it’s like how a man pokes a bull and you have to admit your husband being this grumpy and sarcastic bum sometimes does things to you. That frown he almost has all the time is so hot, it’s so sexy and his voice, crisp, deep and grumbly, a lot of the time you can’t help rubbing your thighs together.

You do listen and comfort him from time to time, when he wants it you mean. It’s just when he comes home nowadays, roughly closing the front door. Huffing and puffing as he yanks his tie and jacket off, makes your brain turn to mush.

He’s just so sexy when he’s angry.

Now, you know some people might say that is quite toxic, to find your partner when they’re angry attractive but come on… doesn’t the thought of allowing him to dig all his anger deep inside of you with large firm hands gripping at your hips like a vice. Never letting you go until you get him to that place he craves sound delicious?

It’s so delicious that this afternoon, you are going to get yourself all dolled up for him. He’s been going through it this week and you think he deserves a bit of pampering and hopefully a bit of rough sex to get through this week of turmoil. You’ll get yourself in your best lingerie and curl your hair and when you finish, you’re gonna quickly run around the house, finishing off the rest of the chores you’ve been meaning to do this weekend, and finally after a little while of doing just that you gently sit yourself down on the main couch in the living room, fluffing your hair and adjusting your bra, biting your bottom lip at the anticipation of your husband arriving home.

Slam.

“Hi, honey.” You say, lovingly. Pushing your body off of the couch and padding over through the archway to the front door, holding your arms up to rest on his shoulders. Giving him the usual welcome kiss that he sighs from. “How did work go?”

“Shit.” Greg grumbles.

You can already feel your center tingling. “Oh.” Raking your fingers through his hair, you keep a bit of distance with your bodies. “Wanna talk about it?”

He huffs. “I’d just be telling ya the same thing.”

“I don’t mind.” You comfort, stifling a smile feeling his finger brush against the side of your thigh.

“What’re you wearin’ this for?” He asks and you smirk a little looking into his tired eyes, keeping your composure level.

“Thought I could give you a little bit of loving…” You lift your knee ever slightly, grazing your bare thigh against his clothed one. You slide your elbows down to rub your hands up and down on his chest. Inching your face to be that bit closer to his, nuzzling his nose with yours but he sighs a bit agitated and pulls away.

“Not ta’night, baby… I just want some peace.”

Lightly moving your arms off of him and walking past to make his way into the kitchen, you follow behind, quietly. Placing your hand on the counter as you watch him grab a beer from the fridge, popping the lid off with ease and taking a big swig. Your other hand fidgets with the strap of your bra, standing in a way to make him notice you but he just turns around and leans back against the same counter, facing away rubbing his face with his free hand.

“Ugh…” He groans. Hanging his head low as he takes another couple of swigs. Roughly pulling on his tie but when it gets caught suddenly he’s slamming his beer down and ripping the thing off. Throwing it over the counter for it to land on the floor. “Damnit!”

Your body jolts a little at the sudden noise, silently watching him in front of you pace back and forth his hair a bit more disheveled than before and as he’s taking off his blazer and rubbing his forehead. A deep frown appears on his face.

“That sonofab*tch doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about, tellin’ me ta do two photoshoots on Friday even though I got f*cking five to do on that same day. Comin’ in everyday ta tell me the same goddamn thing, sayin’ he’d pay extra but he never f*cking does… Could shove a f*ckin’ camera up his ass and tell ‘im ta piss off. I’m only one f*cking man.”

“...Honey?” You call out. Walking towards him with great caution and when your hand goes up to touch his shoulder, you blink feeling him slapping it away. “Baby you-”

“Not right now.” He growls.

But you try again, this time stepping in front of him and holding onto his shoulders. Your eyes peer up at him with concern and as you see he’s about to push you away you brace yourself only for nothing to come and you just hear him breathe in deeply and close his eyes. “Baby-”

“Listen to me, Gre-”

“I don’t wan-”

“You can always take a couple of days off to rest.” You say quickly in hopes that might help but clearly you’re wrong when he turns away in almost disgust.

“I ain’t got time for days-”

“You can make time-”

“MAKE TIME MY ASS.”

He snaps, making you flinch. “I’m sure your boss would-”

“Damnit!” He spits, turning away but when his gaze lands back on you. Your heart skips a beat seeing his blue eyes now on fire.

“F*cking ‘ell” He yanks on your arm and soon pinning your back to the kitchen counter, you squeak, feeling him tear your black panties off letting them fall, all ripped up on the floor by your feet, a hot breath on your ear. “Turn around.”

“W-What?” You stutter, chest heaving with shock.

Breathing heavily, his frown deepens. “You’re gonna take me like a good girl.” Gliding his big hand down squeezing your right ass cheek in his palm, your hips buck feeling his fingertip nudge against your already wet hole.

“O-Okay.” You whimper.

“Hm?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Gonna take me, good?” He asks with something a bit softer in his tone of voice but when you nod and he turns you around, pressing your torso onto the cold countertop, his next actions make you scratch the idea of him going easy on you right out of your head.

SLAP.

“Daddy!” You gasp, back arching feeling the sting on your skin.

“F*ck…” He breathes, pushing you back down. “Be a good girl f’me.”

You nod and your hand quickly grips the edge of the counter as your warm skin touches the cold vinyl making a shiver go down your spine and the clinking of Greg’s belt fills your ears. Gulping at the sound of his moans as he strokes his cock, you whimper loudly feeling from out of nowhere him push two of his long fingers inside of you, pumping them in and out quickly groaning at how wet your pussy is and not long he pulls them back out, cursing at how you taste as he sucks his fingers. “Mmm…”

Gripping onto your hip and guiding the tip of his cock to your dripping entrance, he thrusts himself inside with no warning, his hold tightening listening to your cries. “Greg!”

He begins to drive his hard length deep inside of you, not giving any time to adjust and as you feel the sensations spread all throughout your body, your head starts to spin.”Mm-”

“That’s it.” Greg groans, gritting his teeth. Not wasting any time on speeding up the rhythm of his thrusts.

You whine, rising onto your tippy toes trying to ease the slight pain that’s slowly forming into pleasure Greg slams your hips to the edge of the counter and rams his cock impossibly deeper. Leaning over your back as you quietly start to moan. He sucks the skin on the back of your neck in between his teeth, kissing there as his hands slide up to the top of your hip bones. Rolling his eyes back at your gushy walls clenching around his girth, coating him in all your juices.

“Taking me s’well…” He murmurs breathlessly in your ear, hastily unclasping your bra and sliding his hand underneath your body to grasp onto your breast rubbing his palm over your nipple making you moan and your arms shake as they try their best to hold you up. You bite your lip.”Goddamn…”

His thrusts get stronger and stronger as every moan and grunt goes by and wet sounds of your body colliding together fills your beach house soon your hitched breaths and slurred moans join in.

“Daddy…” You beg.

“Gonna get us there, baby…gonna get us there- oh yes…yes.”

Your eyes roll back, his tip nudging at your cervix. It’s now hitting that place over and over and how your moans were big and loud before, now they are deafening. The sensations get so good, so overwhelming good that it doesn’t take long for Greg to shoot his release into your womb and you cum hard on his cock.

“F*ck yes, baby…” He whispers after slowly coming down from his high. His forehead resting on the back of your shoulder as you pant.

“Feel better?”

“Mhm.”

“Grumpy.” You laugh breathlessly.

[jhoneybees]

Awww my grumpy umpy huggy bear just needs a nice cup of coffee and kisses to make him feel better, hm? 🥺😂

Elvis Presley in Live A Little, Love A Little, 1968.

[yuckydraws]

Vant??? Pls??? 🥺🥺🥺🤌

-kq

You finally walk through the door of your home, sighing in relief. Sure, the party was fun, but you are so so drained. Luckily, your datemate has an eye for when you’re starting to feel overwhelmed and easily wrapped things up.

You slip your shoes off, and quickly make your way to the couch, flopping your butt on the cushions.

Vant huffs.

“YOU’RE STILL WEARING YOUR JACKET.” He reminds, moving to stand in front of you with a frown. It’s been raining outside, despite the warm weather.

“Whoops.” You say, reaching your arms up in a grabby motion. “Help me take it off.” You whine as your muscles protest each movement.

He simply rolls his eye-lights, leaning closer to help you slip it off - falling right into your trap.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him down into your lap, relishing in his surprised squawk. He flails his arms around, his hands fumbling before they find their place on your shoulders, claws digging slightly into the fabric of your jacket.

“WHAT ARE YOU-”

“I wanted to do this all night.” You murmur, nuzzling your face into his neck, and squeezing him in your grasp.

Vant is… well, he hates PDA. Makes him anxious as hell. The most he’s ever initiated or been okay with is the simple linking of pinkies and, very rarely, hand-holding.

You respect it, of course, but it didn’t make you wanna hug him any less tonight, at that party.

Vant doesn’t answer, finding words difficult as his grip on your shoulders soften and he instead wraps his arms around you, returning the hug.

“You Could Have Just Said That, Stupid.” He grumbles, but from the sound of his quiet purrs starting up, you know he’s not upset.

“That’s not as fun, stupid.” You retort, enjoying the rumbles of his deep chuckle.

“… I Suppose Not.”

[hermiones-butterbeer]

Percy: *is really ambitious, cares for ginny and ron very much and doesn’t bother people that much*

Fandom: What a grumpy-umpy! Isn’t at all bothered about his family!

Draco: *bullies fellow students, hurls slurs at muggle-borns and makes everyone feel inferior to him*

Fandom: But he was misunderstood! He didnt mean any of it!

Percy: *is treated like shit by the twins and isnt paid too much attention to by anyone*

Fandom: Other people’s behaviour towards you does not excuse your behaviour!

Draco: *is made to believe in blood-supremacy only and not making fun of people’s dead parents or put leglocker curses on his classmates. Has a brain of his own but only wants to listen to his daddy*

Fandom: he was raised to believe in those things! He could’ve turned out to be a sweetheart if it wasnt for his upbringing! And he was abused! (🤡)

Percy: *chooses the ministry’s side because his father told him that he didnt deserve the job he got*

Fandom: What a traitor!

Draco: *chooses the dark side even though dumbledore gave him a choice because he wanted the easier way out*

Fandom: He had no choice! (🤡 again)

Percy: *comes back, owns up to his mistake, apologizes and fights in the battle*

Fandom: He should’ve died instead of Fred!

Draco: *his last line in the books being “I’m draco malfoy! I’m on your side” to a deatheater, gets redeemed in the epilogue and cursed child*

Fandom: LOOK AT MY CINNAMON ROLL GROW! ALL THE SHIT HE DID WAS TO PLEASE HIS PARENTS!

In conclusion

If you hate Percy and stan Draco at the same time, you’re a clown🤡 heck, thats an insult to lovely clowns actually

[hazohazahazbro]

Dating Tom Holland Would Include...

late night facetime calls when he gets off set

bear hugs that last for hours when he gets home

surprise bouquets of flowers

forehead kisses every morning

or just when you’re in a grumpy mood

“Stop being gru-umpy.” 

“No. You ate my last quackson.”

“Stop calling it that.”

“You shouldn’t have eaten it.”

him apologizing for eating your croissant and going to the store to buy you a fresh new one

“I like you.”

you always bugging Tom about only liking him

Tom would get jokingly frustrated and throw you over his back

after your teasing tackle, Tom would place you on the couch and cover you in kisses

he would make you your favorite dinner

as you would flip through Netflix and go to your guys’ favorite show to binge watch 

Tom would being you a glass of wine and curl up on the couch with you after dinner

binge watching would turn into small kisses between the two of you

small kisses turned into lingering kisses

lingering kisses turned into make-out sessions

“I’ve really missed you.”

“I missed you more, Tom.”

you two would soon forget about the TV show

mornings would be even better when you’d be wearing one of Tom’s shirts that were way too big on you

you’d make him breakfast in bed and cuddle all morning

both of you would spend majority of his time at home in bed

Tessa would come join the cuddle puddle

both of you getting covered in dog kisses

[dumbbadumbbaphant]

How is my best buddy , grumpy bear doing

Grumpy umpy *chuckles*

HELLO WE'RE STILL ALIVE!!!!!

Took a little break, but we're back.

[kunaiwithgun]

Have a good day full of sweet things and coffee c: chu grumpy umpy ump ump chuuuu

[through-the-red-door]

Dear Lucy,

I read somewhere that writing a letter to you might help me right now, to process my thoughts and feelings and to give me a chance to say what I need to say to you. Something I can look back on later when my heart is broken and I want nothing but to hold you close again.

It’s just really really hard to do with you curled up next to me, snoring loudly and moving your little legs as you chase after an imaginary ball - or in your case, more likely a pinecone - in dreamland.

So little. So innocent. So loved.

I love you, Lucy. I promise, I love you so very much. I love the way you have to sleep as close as possible to me at night and if I move an inch, you wake up to move with me. I love the way that you would lay your head on my neck if I laid down first and if I tried to make you move, you just climbed further on top of my face. I love the way you pounce first, then run after your toys. I love the way you freak out when I grab your bag of food and how you are suddenly soo obedient when I tell you to sit before I pour it. I love the way you hate when I leave a room and how you follow me or get impatient for my return. I love all of your silly nicknames - Lucy-Goose, Lou, Pumpkin Pie, Pumpy-umpy-umpkin and Honey Bunches of Oats. I love that you already have a theme song - Just the Girl by the Click Five - so random, but it somehow fits the fire in you. I love so many things about you, but I love most of all the way you curl up in my lap when you’re done - going potty, eating, playing. When you climb in my lap, it’s time to move on to the next activity. It makes me feel so loved and needed, even if it’s usually short-lived.

I love you, Lucy-Goose. That’s why I have taken four billion pictures of you in three weeks and why I can’t stop crying now. That’s why I have to do this and why it hurts so badly.

I’m not right for you, Lucy-girl and as much as I wish this wasn’t true, you’re not right for me either.

I have been second-guessing this decision every single night since I made it. I remember the moment clearly: I had been trying so hard to care for you in the best way possible. I did so much research, but I also had let go of the reins a little and let you be a puppy. Things were going better - not particularly well, but better - and I snapped your picture as you looked back at me from your spot on the bed. And as I looked at it, I felt a whisper in me saying that you weren’t mine. You were not meant to stay and I was just putting off the inevitable. I sobbed into your fur as you slept that night and told you how sorry I was. You woke up to lick the tears from my face and snuggle closer still. It will remain one of my favorite memories, sweet girl.

But every morning, when your personality is at its biggest and brightest, I am reminded of all the reasons why we are not right for each other. For one, I absolutely do not have the energy to keep up with you. It’s not fair to keep you outside or in the crate so much because I can’t handle you for long periods. It’s not fair to either of us that I dread waking up to spend the day with you.

And if I’m being honest, I have known we weren’t right for each other all along. When I decided to get a dog, I knew the main reason was for emotional support. Depression and anxiety have wreaked havoc on my life for so long and I have developed some very unhealthy coping mechanisms. I thought that having a dog, especially when I was living alone, would be beneficial. It would give me much-needed responsibility and a reason to get out of the bed in the morning. And most of all, it would give me a companion and friend that I could always turn to when I’m in my darkest moments, instead of turning to destructive things.

I had been seriously thinking through the idea of a dog and planning since November. I had a very specific outline for the kind of dog I wanted - a small to medium sized, adult, good-tempered dog who needed minimal exercise and with whom I clicked and felt comforted by. One that would be content to sit on the couch with me. I even had my eye on one at the shelter, but he got adopted on the very day Mom went to get him. From her first impression, he wouldn’t have been a great fit either, but I had fallen head over heels with the idea of him and I was devastated. At that point, I was desperate for a dog and all of my careful, logical planning flew out the window when I saw your face on the adoption listings.

Your name was Easter then and you were listed as a bulldog mix. (Though we have known as you grow that they were wrong about your breed; there is not an ounce of small, lazy bulldog in you, Lucy-girl - our current theory is bull terrier, another strong, high-energy breed.) I fell in love with your wrinkly face and I went to get you first thing in the morning. I had completely reversed my previous logic and convinced myself that a puppy would be best - for trainability, for bonding and even an easier adjustment for Mickey.

But deep down, I knew. I knew when I picked you up and you were going so crazy that I could barely hold you. I knew when I heard the worker say that your mom was a pitbull and they were not sure about the dad. I convinced myself that doubting myself then would be stereotyping against your breed and that wasn’t fair. But I knew in my heart a “big, strong dog”, as they said, was not what I should sign up. I knew when I cried all the way home and couldn’t even look at you. I knew when I felt the hollow ache of regret in my chest when we got home and the next two days when I sobbed out of fear no less than four times. And in between the moments of joy and sweetness and bonding and love, I have known a million more times since that day.

I called you a spitfire when I introduced you to the world and I was right. You are full of life and spunk and fire. You are opinionated, stubborn and, many times, defiant. I know a lot of it is just puppy behavior, but there have been times when you’re angry because I didn’t give you your way that you have legitimately scared me. I don’t want to be afraid of you, Lucy-Goose. I want to love you, always. Even if it has to be from afar.

I tried so hard to trick myself into believing this was right, and it worked. I convinced myself that we would be okay; I would whisper those words to you as you slept soundly in my arms. I would tell myself that having a big dog when I live alone would be good protection. I told myself we wouldn’t both be miserable.

But since you have come home, Lucy, my mental health and my physical health have taken a nosedive.

I have cried every day - from regret, fear, guilt and heartache. My foot has broken down for the first time in five years. I am struggling again to get out of bed in the morning. All I want to do is avoid the world and this horrible decision I made and the deep, gnawing guilt that I feel for having dragged you into it.

You didn’t do anything wrong, not really. You are just being a puppy, as you should. The big, strong dog that you are already becoming will be a beautiful, wonderful dog, I’m sure of it. And I’m sure she deserves the freedom to run free and play and not be stuck on the couch when that’s already not where you want to be. I think that’s why you’re particularly feisty and fussy sometimes - you’re bored, and I can’t entertain you in the way you need. People keep telling me that you can be trained and that you’ll adapt your behavior to mine, but I don’t want you to. I want you to have more than that. And I know that I can’t adapt myself to you. I can’t run, I can’t chase you, I can’t even walk outside without planning ahead. If I were to miraculously muster up the energy to keep up with you, I would be laid up in bed with horrible pain for days. That’s not fair to either of us.  

I hope that doesn’t sound like an excuse, Lou. I swear I did my best for you.

I am so afraid of the judgment this decision will bring. I know I shouldn’t care; this is between you and me. But I hate the idea of being seen as “that person” who gives up on a sweet little puppy because she didn’t know what she was getting into. I hate that other people will see a different solution, because I can see it too. I know there are things that would get better and ways we can work around the things that don’t. I wish I wasn’t going to be alone when I move out. I wish I had someone strong enough - mentally and physically - to help me with you. I wish it could be me now, not who I could be someday. But I know now, in this moment of reality, that I don’t want better and I don’t want good enough, because I know we could still have had what’s best -  for me and for you. It’s not something I want, sweet-girl, but I think it’s something that we both desperately need. Even if it hurts so much right now.

I’m jealous, Luce. I’m jealous of your next family. I’m jealous that they get to love you and play with you and watch you grow. I’m jealous that they get to find out if you become the best dog ever. I look at Mickey and everything we’ve experienced with him and I want that with you. I want you to be big enough and gentle enough that I can use you as a pillow. I want to teach you tricks and communicate in our own little shorthand. I want to know all of your quirks and preferences and favorite things. I’m so sad that I can’t. I’m sad that I will likely only know who you are now. I’m so sad that I won’t have firsthand knowledge of who you are as you grow. I’m jealous that I won’t be there for birthdays. I’m jealous of the ones who get to see you grow old and gray. I bet you’ll make the sweetest old lady someday. I wish you were there now; maybe we’d be a better fit if it was already both of our “someday”s.

It sounds cliche, but you have taught me so much in the last three weeks, Lucy. I have learned so much about what it means to take care of someone, especially someone who can’t communicate with me. I have learned that sometimes being grumpy means you just need a few extra hugs. I have learned not to settle, not to rush or make excuses and to wait for the best thing for you and you alone. I have learned that even when someone is difficult and they stretch you way beyond your limits, you should still love them to the best of your ability.

I swear that every sweet snuggle made every mid-night bathroom run, every bite that was a little too hard, every time you peed in the house, all three baths that you hated and that time you got into the trash while I was writing this letter a thousand times worth it. I’m so grateful to have loved you first.

I love you enough to let you go, but I am so so sorry.

[ignislillium]

And here’s my grumpy umpy main villain, Firedrake, clearly plotting some evil twist to throw at Firelily and her companions. Oh and he also happens to be her great-uncle lol

[cocoagoddess331]

Makes me grumpy umpy! 😂😄😡