Youre Going To Sit There And Expect Me To Believe Ow*n Knew What To Did With All That? Her Thick Thighs?

you’re going to sit there and expect me to believe ow*n knew what to did with all that? her thick thighs? her juicy ass? those adonis built biceps? her perfect little breasts he couldn’t even bother to touch when they were right in front of him? ungrateful little micro dick bitch

Abby and reader bring sneaky and making out in a car when they're finally alone

oh now this. excuse me if I make everything a college au bc I am a sad college student. this is coping.

but just imagine u n Abby meeting up at her car after an excruciating day of classes, studying, n practice. the parking lot is practically empty by the time you two meet up, that’s how late it is. there are a few scattered cars here n there, but none are directly next to her car (a sleek white sedan with an absolutely massive trunk/backseat. she keeps the back seats down for supplies n u).

she’s leaning against the driver side door as you walk up. n she’s wearing sweats + a sports bra + a unzipped hoodie, hair down after showering in the locker room. ur in biker shorts that have kinda rolled up n one of her hoodies (with her name & number on the back). ur literally slouching when u walk up n she swings her arms open, clearly exhausted n ready to recharge in ur arms.

ur all tucked into her, arms around her waist, when she leans down to ur ear n whispers “u ready to go or do u wanna sit in the back for a bit?” with that mischievous, grateful lil twinkle in her eye. n obvs u want to hold ur girl first, so u climb into the back, Abby following close behind.

she tries to lay down first n pull u into her, but h beat her to it, laying down and maneuvering her to rest her head on ur tits. u two are laying there, snuggling, Abby practically inhaling ur chest with how close she is, when she starts running her hands under the hoodie, fingertips meeting the edge of ur sports bra and pushing underneath. she pulls her head up to kiss u, moaning at the feel of ur pebbled nipples in her hands. at this point ur pushing her sweater off her shoulders, pulling her sports bra down to expose her chest n sculpted pectoral muscle, wiggling ur hips against the knee she’s shoved in between ur thighs. u two are really moving now, whining and grinding and moaning into each others mouths when a knock comes from the passenger side door. Abby immediately covers you (while u yank her bra back up) only to see Manny laughing his ass off outside the car. she rolls her eyes n kisses ur forehead, before opening the door n sliding out to deal with him.

[*ੈ✩] 𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐌𝐄 & 𝐘𝐎𝐔 • 𝐀.𝐀

synopsis: abby anderson and owen, long time friends and lovers, finally tie the knot, and during the celebration, abby starts a friendship with the pretty wedding florist.

pairing: abby anderson x florist!reader

warning: multiple part series based off the movie imagine me & you so it contains the love at first sight trope, will have heavy mentions of comphet, eventual smut and reader is explicitly a lesbian! some use of y/n but i try to limit it

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐘

“I want something that says I’m sorry he’s dead… but not that sorry. He was a dog and you loved him more than you loved me. Can you do a bunch that says that?”

You’re stuck between laughing and sighing, looking through your inventory for subtle grief flowers, whatever those may be. The last customer of the day is always bound to be the hardest, a cheating boyfriend who needs forgiveness, an uncertain last moment gift, occasional odder ones that would go straight into the stories kept to gossip at your friends from an otherwise untuburlent life. You give the woman violets and start loading your company pickup truck as she leaves.

“What’s the job?” Dina from the store next door asks, helping with your boxes of potted flower arrangements, wiling the sweat off her forehead as she does so, the usual bright smile plastered across her face in a familiar warmth you have grown to adore.

“Another wedding, rich people really do love their spring engagements” You chuckle, tossing them out in the back of the truck, hands on your waist with an audible breath as you stand finally facing Dina into your focus.

“Nice couple?”

“Haven’t met them, it’s all about the mother in law” Dina rolls her eyes at that but silently agrees, her own distaste of weddings being duo to her on and off boyfriend’s mother aswell.

“Hey, me and Jesse are going out later, wanna come with after your ceremony?” You nod happily at her, her surprise being caught off guard making you laugh as you climb onto the front seat, hands ready on the steering wheel, you exchange a few more pleasentries and promises before you are truly on your way, feeling uncomfortably underdressed already by the pantsuit you barely had time to put on nearly stained by dirt around the heels.

You stare around the venue’s outdoors as some well dressed men come pick up your arrangements and spread them across the place, it doesn’t take long before you spot who you assume to be the groom amongst some family members well spread out. Staring briefly down your clothes and running your fingers through your hair to tame it pretty you walk towards him, arm extended forwards for a handshake.

“Are you Owen, the groom?”

He nods uncertainly, taking your hand and his as a little girl tugs on his suit, excessively calling out his name in effervescent curiosity only known to an eight year old girl, bubbly in all her existence, you smile down at the child, nearly distracted.

“Hi, I’m y/n, I did your flowers”

“Well I wouldn’t know a nice flower from a poke in the eye, but I’m sure they are lovely, yeah, thank you!” The girl wouldn’t stop as he spoke, the words Owen Owen Owen please still echoing.

“Owen I have a question, please!”

“Not now, Olivia!” His mother scolded but the guy still smiled warmly, kneeling down to her height level in good familiar fashion and asked her what it was, bright eyes becoming brighter.

“Owen, what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object?”

“It never happens” You chime in istinctively, regretting it the second you do so as all eyes fall on you, yet you continue for the sake of the child’s curiosity “If there's a thing that can't be stopped... it's not possible for there to be something else which can't be moved, and vice versa. They can't both exist. You see, it's a trick question… is the answer.”

“Can she sit with me?” Olivia asks enthusiastically making you laugh as she grabs onto your hands and bombards you with new questions, like why is the alphabet in that order.

“Flower girl is hot” Ellie speaks to Owen as you are out of sight, his hand coming up to his face to press against his temple as he sighs looking back at you utterly entertained by his sister “I got a vibe from her, she’s a lesbian for sure, you think she’s into me?”

“I think she didn’t even look at you” Owen points out.

“Yeah, well, by the end of this she’ll be into me”

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God and in the face of this congregation to join together this man and this woman in holy matrimony.

Abby takes a deep sigh. She’s ready, she thinks, grasping onto her father’s arm while the song echoes her through the aisle. It has been a long time since she has had all eyes on her in this manner and it wasn’t exactly a comfortable feeling as it once felt, uncertain whether to look straight towards her future husband, at the ground to not trip, or towards her guests. She glances at Owen for a moment, his smile brightly unfaltered and immediately regretted it with a weird feeling in her stomach. She turns to the guests then, smiling around at familiar faces and finally, she sees you, and you see her. You see her. You see her, she feels.

Something else replaces the anxiety in her stomach, and it feels oddly like the fluttering wings of a butterfly. Her heart speeds up and her palms get sweaty, rubbing against the white fabric of her dress, she’s self conscious in a different way, a raw way. Her smile sends you shivers. The moment passes sooner than it began as her steps quicken towards Owen. She can’t shake the feeling something has changed. A divide.

taglist: comment if you’d like to be tagged on the next part!

its pulsing her name in morse code😭🤭🤭

HI! DID YOU KNOW TUMBLR IS SELLING OUR WORKS, CONTENT AND POSTS TO THIRD PARTY COMPANIES TO HELP TRAIN AI?

if you did, you're one step ahead of me so just ignore this post. but if you didn't! congrats! you're just as oblivious as me, so let's talk about it.

i personally don't know how long this has been a thing, but tumblr, through a sneaky little hidden setting choice, is essentially forcing us to consent to our works, including fics, drabbles, literally anything we write, draw, or post about being sold, of course for their profit, to third-party developers, like OpenAI, so they can train their shitty robots to do exactly what we do!

now, there is a tiny little respite from this issue, and that's turning off third party sharing in your settings (blog settings > visibility > third party sharing).

the wicked little detail is that if you have your reblogs enabled, which many writers on this app do, tumblr can take any reblogged version of your work to feed it into the maw of a machine. so i strongly urge as many blogs turn off this third party setting as possible, if not for the sake of your own work, for the sake of others as well.

Random Abby Anderson hcs because I’m never not thinking about her:

— always asks for a bite of your food and then takes the biggest bite possible without even trying (and doesn’t understand why you don’t like to share💀)

— cut her hair too short one time and had a fuck ass bob until it grew long enough to braid again

— loves when you put your hands over hers when you’re sitting together (she just really likes subtle pda)

— runs hot so she always kicks her blankets off in her sleep and wakes up sweaty and red faced like she just finished a marathon

— no outbreak!Abby would 100% wear those black boxers with the little red hearts on them. Ellie just wears plain black boxers but Abby likes the ones with the fun prints

— likes when you offer to braid her hair because she loves the physical contact, but secretly rebraids it when you’re done because she needs it to be perfect

— casually flexes all the time because she’s a gym rat and it’s a common occurrence for her to show off her biceps mid conversation