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Small Angels by Lauren Owen
Rating: ⭐⭐⭐.5
Summary: 💔💘🤯🕵🏻♀️☠
Read: Nov. 2022
SPOILERS
It was pretty slow to start, but the last 100-150 pages were so exciting and captivating! I wish the beginning was more interesting. I’m sure many people gave up on this book because it is long.
I enjoyed the different perspectives throughout the story, and how Harry's complete mystery isn’t explained immediately.
The whole thing about a wedding is odd, but I guess it makes sense why they are back in Sam’s hometown.
The woods of Mockbeggar are magical but can be dangerous if you aren’t careful...
This story has love, sisterhood, haunting, wedding, death, lgbtq+, and much more.
I recommend this story because it has an interesting plot and mystery and is worth reading through the beginning.
#k's thoughts#bigheartedbibliophile#bookworm#book review#booklover#bookish#books#book lover#bookaddict#books & libraries#small angels#i'm redoing all my reviews because i like the format better#lauren owen#spooky month#spooky season#spooky aesthetic#ghost stories
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Nobody knew how old Mockbeggar was, or how big. The outside had been mapped and measured, but once you were in there it seemed to stretch much farther—fern and nettle, oak and beech, green on green for miles. Some nights, it was said, you might find yourself walking amongst trees that had fallen centuries before.
Small Angels, Lauren Owen
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Currently reading Small Angels by Lauren Owen, and it’s creeping me out. Folk horror about a family curse, a haunted forest, and the villagers who live in denial about it. I loved Owen’s previous novel, The Quick.
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Title: The Quick | Author: Lauren Owen | Publisher: Random House (2015)
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Historical Habits
#BOOKREVIEW - Historical Habits - #SmallAngels #blog
A small village with a long, and sometimes dark, history related to the surrounding woods is awash with new activity and the woods begin to stir back to life in disturbing ways in Small Angels by Lauren Owen. When Chloe booked the church, Small Angels, for her upcoming wedding she was unaware of the sad history behind it that the people of the village, including her fiancé Sam who grew up there,…
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"When the trees listened, a story lived - it became vivid, it took possession."
This week's book in my quest to read more is Small Angels, by Lauren Owen. It's about family secrets and generational trauma and how healing is a conscious decision that you have to make for yourself.
It's also about two girls who fall in love in a magical forest.
it's also about the power of storytelling and how the story you tell yourself holds power.
I wanted to tear through this book and find out what was happening, but I also wanted to slow down, savor it. I was only a few chapters in when I knew - it's one of those books that gets under your skin and never leaves. A bit like Mockbeggar itself, I suppose.
[Image ID: the front cover of Small Angels by Lauren Owen, with trees framing a church bell and the tag line "the woods are stirring again..."]
#summer reading#Small angels#Lauren Owen#Mockbeggar#This is one of those books that will linger in my mind for years#The lesbians live#book club#book recommendations#book recs
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55. Small Angels, by Lauren Owen
Owned: No, library Page count: 463 My summary: Chloe’s wedding is going to be perfect. Just her and her man (and their families, of course) in a quaint little church nestled in the woods by the village where he grew up. But there’s strange things afoot in the church of Small Angels. The villagers don’t talk about it, mutter grim tidings. Her fiancé is evasive about what he knows. And Mockbeggar Woods whispers in the night. Something is stirring, something once-buried. And it’s coming for her... My rating: 3.5/5 My commentary:
This one, I picked up entirely on a whim. I love a ghost story, and the title and premise of this book were intriguing enough to me that I felt I should check it out. While in general I'm not so much a fan of works set in contemporary reality (ghosts notwithstanding), I will always make exceptions if there are some other personal draws, such as genres that I like or elements I otherwise enjoy in fiction. This was...perfectly fine for what it is, but I don't expect that I'll remember much about it in a month's time. That kind of book, you know?
The point of view switches between a few characters. We have Chloe, the young bride who hired Small Angels, Kate, her sister-in-law with her own connection to the woods and their more recent history, and Lucia, a traumatised young woman who knows offhand just how dangerous the Mockbeggar woods can be. Their differing knowledge about the situation makes for some intrigue - Chloe is an outsider, Kate grew up here but has significant blocks in her memory, and Lucia is the most clued-in to what's happening in Mockbeggar past and present. Each character brings their own personal perspective. Chloe's almost aware of her Final Girl-type status, Kate is furiously trying to work things out and cling onto her relationship with Lucia (yay, another book with surprise lesbians!), and Lucia is trying her best to make up for past mistakes. Despite being three characters very similar in demographics to one another, I never felt that their perspectives were too samey, which is always a plus.
One thing I really dug about this book was its emphasis on the storytelling tradition. The girls go out and tell tales to the trees, both fictional stories of their own imagining and the real story of the ghost their family wronged. The emphasis is on changing the story, as Lucia Gonne wishes to change the tragic story her family has been caught up in rather than just rehashing and reliving it over and over again to no change. Rather than being prisoners of the past, Lucia wants to help Harry's ghost as best she can. I like the idea of changing the story, of fashioning a new ending for yourself amidst the trauma of the past and letting go a pain that your family have been holding for generations. I do wish we'd seen more of Mockbeggar in all this, though. The idea that the woods are feeding on stories to the point where they manifest elements of those stories is really cool and interesting, and I wish that the novel had explored that a bit more outside of Harry's particular haunting.
The prose here was somewhat purple in hue - I personally have a high tolerance for overly florid language (er, obviously) but I'll admit it's of the sort that might turn someone off if they prefer things to be a little more straightforward. The pace, too, was slow. Not so slow that I got bored reading, but it seemed to take a long time for the plot to meander to its next point, and I can imagine how that might be frustrating for someone who doesn't read as ridiculously fast as I do. On the whole I didn't think it was badly paced, it just could have used a bit of tightening here and there.
Next up, a woman attempts to escape slavery.
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the lake is for lovers.
— tyler owens x f!reader
premise: summer will always be your favorite, spending weeks at the lake house with the crew. drinking, good food, sneaking off with tyler, making love under the stars. what more could a girl ask for?
contents: unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, foreplay, coming inside, alcohol consumption, oral, weed mention, fluff, tyler’s favorite pet name is baby ok fight me, he’s also thick as hell | wc: 6k+
note: this fic started out as filth on a dock, which then turned into me making a getting d at the lake playlist, which only worsened my tyler brainrot and made me write these cluster of filthy blurbs.
There were many reasons for you to love summer.
Picnics under a favored willow tree, ice cream shops coming out with outlandish sugary concoctions that could take down even the most rambunctious five year old. The days are longer, filled with more laughs and bonfires. Fireworks—as if that had a designated season to be let off, Boone would take on anyone who thought differently.
Tornado season was over, which, depending on who you asked, was not a reason to love the overheated season.
But your favorite thing about summer was by far the weeks you and the crew spent at Dex’s lake house back in Arkansas. A lake house that had gone from his retirement home when he left a shitty corporate job to a summer sanctuary for the family he found doing what he truly loved.
So every summer, all of you loaded up Tyler’s truck, the van, and the motor home and headed to the private dwelling, where you would spend the rest of the summer swimming, napping on the dock, raiding Boone’s smoke stash, and finding the nearest field to stare up at the stars.
Or your favorite: drinking until Tyler wrangled you into the house and into bed before you and Dani took the boat out for a joy ride, or you and Lilly had another incident of lighting said boat on fire with a miss trajectory of a firework that Boone gets scolded at for bringing out when everyone was three sheets to the wind by your wrangler.
As if he didn’t love it.
As if he had not convinced you all to jump into the lake naked one night.
“Oh no,” The man himself shook his head. Placing his hand over yours, your fingers wrapped around the head of a bottle of tequila. The cart already filled with boxes of Miller and Budweiser.
“Oh yes.” Your fingers wrapped together around the bottle, pulling it halfway off the shelf before he actually used force to stop you—that force being lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing.
Moving his body so he was standing beside you, chest to chest. Your brows raise when you try to pull the bottle again, and he squeezes your fingers harder.
“Tyler.”
“Baby.”
You roll your eyes, “Boone wants it.”
“Yeah, Boone wants it!”
You both can’t help laughing as you hear the man himself yelling from three shelves away.
“Lilly wants it too!”
“Don’t be a pussy,” Dani yells as if there aren’t other people in the store with you—Tyler leaning his head back with a sigh, his mouth pulled in a smile.
If the shop owner wasn’t used to the group of you making a pit stop at the decently sized—rundown—off the road liquor store several times during the summer; you’re sure he would have kicked half of you out.
“Yeah,” you say, giving him that teasing smile, turning your head to the side. Walking your free fingers up his chest. “Don’t be a pussy.” You whisper, looking up at him. His smile turns into a smirk as he leans down, his lips hovering above yours.
“The last time ya’ll had Tequila Boone got stuck on the roof.” He is completely serious, but he says it in that voice that makes you want to melt into his hands and do whatever he wants. That stern undertone that made you want to listen and rebel—either outcome was always one you loved.
You nod. “True, but.” Your palm flattens against his chest, moving up until your fingers play with the baby hairs at the back of his neck. “If I recall, you weren’t complaining when you were fucking me sober that night. So, if anything, I think it’s a win for all of us.”
“Not for Boone.”
“Not for Boone.” You both smile before pressing your lips together, Tyler’s hand guiding the bottle into the cart, trapping you between him in the cart when his arms wrap around your middle.
“Glad you could see it my way.” You bite your bottom lip, your stomach fluttering, as he gives you that sweet smirk when you grab the ball cap from his head and slip it on yours. Pulling out of his arms to walk down the aisle, “now hurry up, so we can revisit memory lane.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The first morning you’re there is when your worst hangovers occur.
The first night of drinking is always the hardest you do, as if the steam of working for months wrangling and chasing storms has finally been let out. Decompressed of the pressures of having to worry about live streaming and fixing something on Ty’s truck.
It was a blessing that the nearest neighbor was at least five minutes away, with Tyler’s perfectly curated playlist blaring from the speakers that lined the aforementioned truck. Boone being louder than the aforementioned music, Dani and Lilly hollering when one of them loses whatever competitive thing they’re doing. Dex mixing up some concoction inside the house and insisting it’ll help with the hangover, even though you all know it won't, but damn, does it taste good.
You and Tyler occupying yourselves around the fire, his hands on your hips, holding you close to him as you sway to the music. His lips at your neck, leaving small nips and kisses along your skin until you turn around to scowl at him. His hands slipping into the back pockets of your shorts.
“You’re a bad dance partner.”
“You’re even worse.” His hand wraps around yours to press to the front of his jeans, where he’s hard and straining against them. “Can’t focus on my moves when my girl’s causin’ such a distraction.”
You smile up at him, running your fingers along the outline of his dick. “Poor boy. Should your girl take you upstairs and fix this little problem?”
“Little?” His brows raise, giving you a look that makes you laugh at the amusement on his face. “Now we’re definitely going upstairs.”
You’re laughing all the way up the stairs, Tyler grinning as he talks shit the entire way up, slapping your ass until it feels red and raw through your shorts.
And when he has you naked and pressed to the mattress, your ass in the air, thighs coated in your own slick from him, bringing you right to the precipice of your orgasm, only to keep taking it away until you started whining and he gripped your hips and flipped you over. Pulling your hips up, his teeth biting into your ass cheek.
The head of his cock runs through your folds, the wet noise that comes from him separating them to press at your entrance makes you whimper.
When he pushes in slow, too fucking slow, your fingers dig into the quilt. Your legs shaking, your body wanting to pull away from the intrusion—no matter how stretched out you already are from his fingers and tongue, the burn from the stretch of his cock never compares to it. Always stretches you out until you feel too full, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
Tyler presses a kiss at your tailbone, his cock almost fully inside of your fluttering pussy. “Still think it’s little, baby?”
And after you’re coated in sweat and your throat is hoarse and raw, your legs jelly, your pussy feeling swollen and dripping from the several orgasms Tyler fucked out of you—and the come he fucked into you; wrapping your legs around his hips so there was nowhere for either of you to go while he did so; your body is limp against his chest. His fingers running along your spine.
You feel completely spent and sedated, the liquor aiding in the job of lulling your body completely. But Tyler is all smiles and wide awake—after all these years together, you still have no idea what makes a tornado wrangler tired.
He’s always raring to go, and it’s both hot and frustrating at the same time.
You groan when he moves your body gently off of his, making a quick trip downstairs. A glass of water in his hand seconds later, demanding you sit up and drink half, even through your protests. A hand rubbing at your back.
“Good girl,” he says, sweetly kissing your cheek and putting the glass on the nightstand. He’ll ask you if you want to shower because the both of you are covered in sweat and come and you’ll only reply by pulling him back down in bed with your face pressed to his chest.
His chuckle shakes your cheek when he shuts the lamp off, pulls the quilt over your shoulders, and presses a kiss atop your head.
But best believe he pulls your ass into the shower when the sun rises. Your head pounding from the shots you and Lilly threw back and from the beers you drained. Tyler’s fingers are gentle as he washes your hair. Gentle as he washes your body. He presses a kiss on each of your shoulders when he washes your back.
That space between your legs still feeling swollen from last night's activities, but his fingers still find their way between them. His palm on the shower wall as he stands behind you and rubs your clit until you’re coming.
Teeth, lips, and tongue at the back of your neck coaching you through it, “that’s my girl.” He’ll praise you like you’ve just wrangled your own kind of storm. A storm he caused.
A storm that always helps your pounding headache just a little more than the eggs Dexter places on your plate when you make your way downstairs.
“I think I’m goin’ sober for the resta’ the summer.” Boone groans between his palms. Palms that are stopping his drooping head from falling into his eggs.
“Lilly’s making flamin’ peppers tonight.” Dani grins from the head of the table, chewing on a piece of bacon. It has the reaction you all expect, Boone picking up his head, perking up, and feigning excitement.
“Really?”
You all laugh together, regardless of how much it hurts your temples.
“You’re supposed to be soaking up the heat, not staring, Owens.”
You squint from the sun as you turn your head to him, the two of you lying out on the dock. Letting the sun dry you off from your swim in the water. Something that should be relaxing.
But Tyler clearly distracted himself by staring at you.
“Can’t I do both?” He grins, lying on his side, his head propped up by his hand.
“You’re gonna have the worst farmer's tan.”
“Worth it for the view.” He kisses you, his finger and thumb lightly pinching your chin.
It doesn’t take long for his kiss to progress from a sweet peck to something more as his tongue licks into your mouth. With the way his thumb circles your nipple through your swimsuit, his hand moves down your torso to the top of your bottoms, easily slipping past them.
“Tyler,” you warn through a breath when his finger runs along your folds.
“What?” He smiles against your neck, “it’s just us.”
“Dani and Dexter are literally out on the water.”
“They’re tryna catch dinner. They’re far gone.” The pad of his finger runs against your clit in a slow circle. Making you gasp, your hips chasing the touch.
“Boone,” you swallow. Try to be the level headed one here, “Lilly.”
“Store.” He says it simply. Teeth nipping at your ear, “let me make my girl come.” His finger adds pressure to your clit, making you moan. “Please,” he whispers against your ear.
And if this man made you a sane woman, you’d pull his hand away and make him take you inside. But sanity has no room around Tyler. Sanity didn’t send you into a tornado with him. Didn’t have you riding him in the front seat of his truck after afternoons of chasing, the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.
No, being in love with Tyler Owens causes sanity to fly out the window. Made you throw caution to the wind. Made you chase that high. Made you ride it.
Made you want and beg for more.
His love was soft and ever consuming. A gentleness that made up for the intensity of everything else. It’s why it was so easy for you to put your life in his hands every single day you went out into the storm.
That’s why your legs bend and open for him, and why you let his fingers fuck you on the dock where you could easily get caught. His thumb rubbing your clit, your body burning, your pussy clenching and pulling his fingers in.
“Don’t stop, baby, don’t stop.” He grunts in your ear as your hips move, fucking yourself down on his fingers when your orgasm gets closer and closer until you’re coming and his hand is in your hair, pulling your mouth to his so he can swallow your loud moan. Can hold you through the euphoric high that has your body shivering even with the sun shining down on it.
His fingers slip from you wet and coated with your come. His eyes never leave yours when he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean before grinning, grabbing your jaw, and sharing the fruits of his labor.
“Hey, lovebirds,” Lilly hollers as she slams the van door. “Come help us!”
"Comin',” Tyler yells back, a smirk on his face as his eyes waggle at the double meaning.
“You’re ridiculous.” You laugh, pushing at his chest as you stand and walk down the dock. Arms wrap around you, making you both waddle down the rest of the way. Tyler kissing your cheek. You can still feel his hardness against your ass—hardness that was just grinding itself against your hip.
“I love you,” he says softly.
“More?”
“More than anything.”
You lean your head back against his shoulder, smiling. “Infinitely.”
“Unbound.”
When you two step off the last wood plank of the dock, you stop, both turning your heads to kiss each other. Your hand lifts to run your fingers through the back of his hair.
"Oh, don’t worry, we got it, ya’ll!” Lilly says sarcastically from the porch.
You smile against Tyler’s lips. “I love you. But let's go help before she refuses to share the good snacks with us.”
“Damn right, I will!” She yells as she shakes a box of said snacks in her arms.
Tyler laughs and presses one last kiss on your lips before he untangles himself from you and runs over to the van.
“Ain’t no way!”
“Pick up the slack!”
“I’m doin’ my best here!”
You and Tyler laugh as Dani and Boone argue as you both sink the white balls into their cups. Dani scowling as she downs her drink, and Boone raises his high with a frown as he does the same.
When Boone misses and Dani gets one in their next turn, the way they cheer and high five warms something inside of you instead. Brings joy to the already loose buzzing that thumps through your veins from how many sips you’ve had tonight. Your cheeks are heated and hurting from all the laughing you’ve been doing.
You grab the cup, ready to down its contents but Tyler puts his hand over the top, grabbing it from you and downing it in one gulp. Sending you a wink. Whispering in your ear when he leans over the table to put the now empty cup alongside the other ones, “I want to take you somewhere.”
It’s all the explanation you need as to why he doesn’t want you too far gone. You hadn’t seen him drink anything tonight besides the few cups Dani and Boone—mostly Dani—landed their ball in.
Some nights, he doesn’t drink at all.
Some nights he makes sure everyone goes to bed with something other than booze warming your stomachs—usually a frozen pizza he always burns at the bottom, or the infamous Ty Club Sandy, as Boone has deemed to call it. Filling you up until you are on the cusp of being sober and ready for your heads to hit your pillows.
Tyler took his appointed mother hen role even further for the rest of the night until the aforementioned heads hit your pillows.
Sitting in the caravan with Boone for hours until he exhausted himself from talking about new ideas for the channel and one of his favorite subjects: pyrophilia.
Or lounging on the couch and listening to Lilly and Dani talk about ways to make Kyro better, new elements to add for better views in the sky.
Dexter always passes out before anyone, filling his gut and waving goodnight before disappearing down the hall.
Tyler making his way up to your bedroom after everyone had gone off to bed. Cleaning himself up and crawling under the sheets with you—having sent you up to bed hours ago with a pat on your ass and plans to be ready for him when he got up there, knowing full well you would fall asleep before an hour even passed.
His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him, face pressed into the back of your neck. The two of you drifting off to sleep. You take it upon yourself to keep his plans of being ready for him when you wake him up with your mouth wrapped around his cock.
His hips pushing up into your mouth, languid and sporadic, until he’s fully woken up. His jaw tightens before falling open when he looks down at you and watches you circle your tongue around his tip.
“Morning,” you’ll say with a smile and he’ll groan softly. Matching your smile with a grin of his own, that look of lust and desire morphs his beautiful features into something needy.
He’ll try to speak, try to say something sweet or filthy, but the words never come out. Just heavy pants and his teeth swelling up his bottom lip as he watches you—as he throws his head back against the pillow and groans.
When you pull him out of your mouth and straddle his hips, you reach behind you to guide him through your wetness, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time. Mouth twitching when you slide down on him slowly. When your own eyes flutter closed from the burning stretch.
You ride him slowly, leaving marks along his neck and chest from your lips and nails digging into his skin when he tries to buck his hips up—fuck you harder. Set the pace that he craves so much when you are on top of him like this. A pace he adores, from how lost you become in pleasure, from your tits bouncing in his face, to how beautiful you look taking the reins.
But you stop your movements each time you feel his hips move. The look he gives you is pitiful and needy.
“Fuck, baby.”
You smile, lean down, and kiss his chin as you start to move your hips again, just as slowly. “I’m just tryna make up for last night.”
“You’re killin’ me.”
After the two of you have wiped the floor with Boone and Dani and they’re demanding Lilly and Dex go against them next because they know they’ll actually win this time; Tyler grabs your hand and walks you to his truck, opening the door for you to climb inside.
“Is it safe for you to drive?”
“Would I put you in a situation where you weren’t safe?” He grabs your hand and kisses the top of it.
You can always tell when he’s buzzed or drunk; his cheeks get flushed and his eyes squinting more than usual when he smiles or laughs. He’s sober.
When you finally get to the spot, you turn to give Tyler a look. He’s all smiles as he drives through a field of tall grass, turning the wheel to back up his truck the rest of the way before coming to a stop once you reach a clearing that seems like nothing but marsh land.
Until you’ve stepped out of the truck and walked around the back. Your eyes light up when you see a pond a little bigger than an EF3 filling the rest of the field.
The moon and stars shine off the water, painting it in the darkest blue you’ve ever seen. Water lilies float along the top, with pickerelweed and cattails lining the edges. The crickets and lightning bugs add to the ambience of it all.
“How did you find this?” You ask as he helps you climb up into the bed of the truck, where a blanket and pillows are already laid down.
“Dex told me about it.”
“You sap’s.” You say with a sweet smile, pulling him down to your lips.
Tyler only further proves the sap allegations when he pulls out two of your favorite bags of snacks. His back leaned against the pillows, you leaning against him, his arms around you as you shared the salty and sweet treats. Your hand reaching back to feed him as you look up at the stars.
“You’re so beautiful,” Tyler whispers against your lips when the snacks are gone, fingers licked clean, kisses pressed to lips, the mood changing until you’re naked and under him and his hips are thrusting slowly between your thighs. “So pretty,” he kisses you, runs his lips along your jaw, “perfect,” latch on the side of your neck, “my girl.” His words attenuated by his thrusts.
His fingers are in your hair, at the back of your neck, and on your chest, playing with your nipples, squeezing a hand around them, and bringing his mouth to the pert bud. Teeth nipping at your collar bone, tongue licking between the space of your breasts, grunts against your ear. Fingers at your hip, against your clit—he’s everywhere. Consuming you. Pulling you apart, putting you together, slowly, gently, with a stroke, a touch, a kiss, a bite.
Fucking you like it’s the first time.
Fucking you like he has all the time in the world.
Like he wants you to feel his love with every thrust. Every praise in your ear.
Your fingers dig into his biceps, legs lifting and pressing against his sides, pushing him deeper inside you. Your breath heavy, your moans, sweet mewls, music to his ears.
“Tyler,” you whimper against his shoulder.
His arms bracket around your head, thrusts picking up when he feels your pussy tighten around his cock. “I know, baby.” His words are breathed into your ear, heavy and weak, letting you know he’s just as close. “Gonna come, you gonna take it like a good girl?” You nod, dig your nails into his back, reaching your peaks together.
Tyler stays on top of you even after your breaths have evened out. His thumb runs along your cheek as he looks down at you. His smile is soft and filled with love. It makes your stomach flutter—something that hasn’t stopped since the day you met him.
When he finally does pull out, neither of you move to right yourselves or head back. He covers you with another blanket he pulls from somewhere behind you. Your head against his chest as you look up at the sky. Tyler’s fingers playing with yours. A peaceful silence passes between you for what feels like forever, basking in each other. Listening to the bugs and frogs around the pond.
“Marry me.”
You chuckle softly, “your come hasn’t even dried inside me yet.” You joke. Don’t think twice about it; it hadn’t been the first time he had playfully asked you. Declared to the world that you would be his wife one day: in a tornado riding the high, saying he would make you his wife when you put your computer science degree to good use and ran better numbers than he could have come up with on his own. When you would have to travel home to visit family for a week and leave the crew behind, his arms squeezing you upon your return, saying the winds are dead, everything's dead when you’re not around, don’t leave again, marry me.
So you don’t chalk it up to anything but that until you feel something cold slip onto your finger. Tyler brings your hand up so the moon is shining down on it, a pretty diamond twinkling in the moonlight.
“Marry me.”
Your heart falling to the pit of your stomach as you rush to sit up. Your palm against your chest, your eyes wide, and staring down at your hand before whipping around to look at him. The smile on his face is to fucking die for.
“Tyler.”
“Baby.”
“Are you serious? Are you sure?”
He laughs, reaches out for you, and pulls you into his lap. “I’ve been sure since the day I saw you.”
“That’s dramatic.”
“Ask Boone,” he smiles. Stares down at the ring on your finger that you still have held up, “told him five months into us datin’ that I had a ring picked out.”
You chew on your bottom lip, try to hold back the tears that pool in your eyes. “That’s insane.”
“If you want somethin’, you take it.”
“You already got me.”
“And I ain’t ever letting go.” He grabs your hand, rubs his thumb against the ring on your finger. Looks at you with so much love that you think you could die from it and be just as happy as you are right now. “Will you marry me?”
You don’t think you’ve ever wanted something more in your life.
“Yes.”
“Yes?” He asks as if he’s surprised, his smile and laugh filled with a childish joy and happiness. Like a child finally getting a gift he had always wished for.
“Yes!”
He grabs your face, kissing you. Kissing you until you are both laughing and it’s all teeth and someone's crying, and you’re not sure if it’s him or you or who’s shaking or cheering.
“I love you,” he says. You can feel his heart pumping against the palm on his chest. His palms are hot against your tear stained cheeks. Thumb swiping loose droplets away.
“More?”
“More than anything.”
You can’t even finish your little rhyme before kissing him again. Whispering that you love him back against his lips. This man was going to be your husband. This man who has completely taken over your life and swirled it upside down since the first day you saw him.
This man who has shown you a new world. Given you new meanings of life. Given you a love that puts storybooks to shame. Given you a family that will only grow if the two of you decide on it, but is already so perfect the way it is.
You couldn’t imagine marrying anyone but Tyler Owens.
The next day, you obviously have to celebrate.
The entire crew cheered and rushed you when the two of you had come home, and Tyler lifted your hand to the sky like you just won something.
“Yes!”
“That’s what I’m talkin’ bout!”
“That’s ma boy!”
“Bout time!”
Boone spins you, Lilly is already mapping out the perfect location for the nuptials, and Dani and Dex are hugging and clapping Tyler on the back.
So the next day is one big celebratory day.
Dex prepares a breakfast so large that you all groan and sprawl in the living room while watching movies you have all seen a dozen times, aiding in your hearty meal putting you to sleep.
A nice nap that has you all waking up more rested than before and spending the rest of the afternoon out on the water. Tyler and Dex grill the fish you caught when you come home.
Your legs in Tyler’s lap, all of you sedated and full, and laughing around the table afterwards until Boone comes through the screen door with two bottles in his hand: tequila and whiskey.
“Oh no,” Lilly says, laughing against her hand.
“Absolutely not.”
“You never mix light and dark, comin’ Boone, you know this!”
"Guys, we’re celebratin’,” Boone ignores everyone’s protests and grabs the shot glasses he was keeping for safekeeping in his pockets, apparently. Filling them up with tequila when he asks the bride to be which she wants, a big smile on his face.
He slides yours and Tyler’s over to you, Tyler shaking his head with amusement written all over his face when you frown playfully and say, “Happy wife, happy life?”
He sighs and pinches your legs, teasing, and grabs the shot glass. “I’m not helpin’ you off the roof this time.”
Boone makes a face, and everyone clinks their glasses together, throwing back the liquor.
It’s the first of many shots that has you hours later playing some kind of drinking game that you forget the rules of, which then leads into Boone and Tyler accusing you and Lilly of cheating. Which then leads to the four of you settling it by seeing who can shotgun a beer faster.
“You got this!” Dani pat’s Lilly on the shoulder like a fighter about to get into the cage.
Tyler smirks down at you, “you sure ‘bout this, baby?”
“Don’t call me that. You’re the enemy!” You put your hands on your hips and step up to him. Staring up at him in the most intimidating way you can, even though he could throw you over his shoulder easily in seconds. Your voice low enough for only him to hear you say, “we both know I’m really good with my mouth.”
His teeth sink into his bottom lip. “Won’t argue with you there.” His thumb comes up and runs against your jaw, “let’s make a bet, alright? You win, I’ll show you how good my mouth is, and if I win, you show me.”
You smirk, “deal.”
Once the beers are handed out and the bottoms have been punctured, your thumb presses against the slit, and a glare shot over at Tyler. His grin never leaves his face, even when Dex and Dani yell go, and all of you are putting the bottoms of your beers in your mouths.
Your gaze locks on his the entire time. Your mouth almost slips when his hand comes up to hold your can to your mouth better, his fingers squeezing, making you swallow faster. Finish faster. You and Lilly cheering when you win.
A win that Tyler clearly aided in.
A win he was more than happy to give you.
And if you didn’t love having his mouth on your pussy, you would probably fight harder against him letting you win. But it’s hard to be mad when later he’s between your thighs, fingers spreading your pussy to give him even more access to your throbbing clit.
Your hips guide his mouth where you want it, where you need it, and how you want his tongue to move against your clit. How you want his lips to suction against you. Tyler always listening to your body.
Your fingers are messing up his hair, “why did you let me win?”
He smiles around your clit, “I think I won.” He bites your thigh before turning his attention back to the part of your body he is fucking his tongue against, eliciting whimpers and moans from your lungs. Your back arching up from the mattress.
Some nights are chiller than others.
Some nights, you give your livers a break and hangout around the fire for hours. Dex telling stories, Dani and Lilly rolling Boone’s stash into tight blunts they share amongst those who want it. Boone lying in the grass, listening intently to Dex. You sat in Tyler’s lap, his fingers running along your legs.
His fingers sometimes find the ring on yours, twisting it around. Making sure it’s still there. He smiles over at you and leans in for a kiss.
The night is filled with a lot more laughs when three out of the six of you are baked and bring out the s’mores kit’s Lilly bought for each of you.
“Six is a bit much.”
“Uh, have you seen the way Boone eats?”
“She’s got ya there.” Boone agrees as he tears into a burnt marshmallow on the stick in his hand.
Tyler roasts you one, holds the stick while you happily eat the melted sugar. “Want some?” You ask, his answer comes in the form of placing his mouth over yours and kissing you until your mouth parts and his tongue runs along your bottom lip and into your mouth.
“When you guys get married, will we see less of this?”
“More probably.”
“Less. They’ll have their own place by then.”
“Ah, what? We won’t all be shackin’ up together?”
“Boone, they’ll be married.”
“They’re basically married now!”
You laugh against Tyler’s lips, “ya’ll are losing your invites real fast.” He says turning towards them.
“What did I do?” Dex asks innocently around a marshmallow.
Some nights, it gets so hot that not even the cold from the lake can be whipped through the windows by the breeze. The trees still. The humidity heavy and sticky, making you wake up with sweat glistening on your skin.
The two fans blowing towards the bed useless.
“Tyler.” You whine softly as you push his arm from your midsection. Can’t stand to feel the warm heat of his chest pressing to your back, mixed with the humidity filling the room.
“Baby,” he says groggily. Putting his arm back around your waist and pulling you close again.
“You’re going to give me heatstroke. How are you not dying?” You groan, freeing yourself from his grip long enough to remove your tank top and shorts before he grabs you again. More awake now than before.
“The fans are goin’,” he says softly into your neck.
“They’re useless.”
He chuckles, “want to go jump in the lake?”
“Don’t tempt me.”
He hums, kisses your shoulder, doesn’t care that your body is coated in a sheen of sweat as his lips move to your neck, his hand cupping your cheek. He turns your head back to his. “I can distract you,” he smirks. Hips moving against your ass, his dick hard.
“You’ll only make it worse,” you breathe when he bites the skin just below your ear.
“Ya sure?” His other hand slips between the two of you, pushing your panties to the side and pulling himself from his briefs. “I don’t gotta put it in, baby.” He positions his cock so it’s rubbing through your folds, his tip moving against your clit, making you moan into his mouth.
Ass pushing back against him, “I can make you forget all ‘bout the heat and focus on coming along, my cock.” When the slide of his cock becomes more slick from your pussy growing wetter, he grunts against your mouth. “See, your body has already forgotten about it. It needs somethin’ else.” You whine, wrap your fingers around his wrist. Moan in his mouth, “what’s it need, baby?” The tip of his cock teases with the slightest pressure against your entrance, your body bracing, craving the stretch, only for him to take it again. “What do you need, baby?”
“You,” you breathe. Look at him with hooded eyes, chin wobbling.
“Say it again,” he grunts.
“I need you, Tyler.” His mouth twitches when he slides inside of you, his eyes watching as your eyes close in ecstasy. Nails digging into his wrist from the stretch of his cock.
“It’s all yours,” he kisses you. Says your name when he lets out that shaky groan when he’s bottomed out. When your body shudders while trying to adjust. His voice a mumble against your skin when he asks you if you’re ready for him to move, if you can take it, if you want to take it, knows you can take it. Be a good girl, and take what you want, what you need; it’s yours.
He’s yours.
Infinitely.
Unbound.
Always.
His.
#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens smut#tyler owens x you#tyler owens imagine#twisters smut#tyler owens x y/n#twisters x reader#tyler owens fluff#glen powell smut#twisters fanfic#tyler owens fic#lauren writes twisters
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spies are forever… but make it vintage 🔫🍌
#tumblr has absolutely killed the quality omg#spies are forever#saf#millie talks#tin can bros#tcb#starkid#agent curt mega#curt mega#owen carvour#joey richter#tatiana slozhno#mary kate wiles#cynthia houston#lauren lopez#barb larvernor#tessa netting#deadliest man alive#dma#joe walker#the informant#Esther fallick#brian rosenthal#art#typography#poster#musical
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going through my camera roll and i found this video that i screen recorded from glen’s sisters instagram 😂
source: laurenpowellwhatton on instagram, november 30, 2024
#i love his family so much#glen powell#twisters#tyler owens#jake seresin#top gun maverick#tyler owens x reader#twisters 2024#jake seresin x reader#glen powell x reader#glen powell x you#video#instagram#lauren powell
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spent last night wondering if I was losing my Spies hyperfixation. But then I rewatched the Mary Kate Wiles bts and realized that part of the arm clasp rehearsal from the digital download bts is in this video and. yep I am still afflicted
also bonus! the tickle torture scene (straight version)
#god bless you mary kate wiles thank you for this piece of history#Im not an artist but it feels like having another angle on the arm clasp and gun pose might be useful?#also just every time I think about this fucking arm clasp I lose my mind#corey lubowich director of all time#lauren lopez choreographer of all time#probably gonna do another post with favorite moments because I love this video#spies are forever#tin can bros#owen carvour#curtwen#agent curt mega#saf#tcb
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midway through watching saf (spies are forever). Here are my notes:
Fucking badass curt
Oh they're (curt and owen) gay aren't they. Gonna be so mad if they aren't fruits
Joey's British accent, shockingly, not the worse one I've heard. Sounds very suffolk-essex border (similar to my accent). Not perfect but not bad. Like 7/10
It's time to save the woooorld again
ITS TIME TO GET THE GIRLL AGAINNNNN
ONCE A SPY ALWAYS A SPY FOREVERRRRRRR
"old boy". Thats it. Thats the note
Oh my fucking god curt that's why we don't litter
CURT WTF DONT LEAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND BEHIND
selfish git
Oh. Oh no. No curt.
Oh curt baby.
Oh he an alchaholic baby
HIM AND HIS (romantic) PARTNERRRR OWEEEEEEEEN
Oh cynthia i havent even met you and you're already a badass bitch
Slightly worse british accents but its chill
wowza he's (DMA) scary
Oh the bombseller is a vibe. Great song
Oh she pretty. Pretty Russian woman. SWEAR TO GOD IF SHES THE "BOND GIRL"-
Sorry hes late guys got a lot on his plate guys🎶
Sit down! Fuck you! You're fucking dead!
The smiley face was very important
So how, in the FLIPPETY FLAPPETY FUCK
Oh well aren't you the 𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓃ℊ 𝒹ℴ𝒹ℊℯ𝓇
oh wowza he's (DMA) CREEPY
YESSSS the fucking 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙍𝙍𝙍𝙍𝘿𝘿𝘿
YOU YOU GOTTA!
love that type of mother son dynamic
Tessa netting my BELOVED
Pay attention has gotta be my favourite song so far it scratches my brain just right
"Acctually holding LIQUOOOR" "im off it" YES POP OFF CURT BEAT THAT ALCHAHOLISM
barb hes gay give up
barb
barb hes a fruitcake stop
barb you dont need him ill kiss you instead
Candlestick? Apple? Fucking paperclip? Looks like a GUN TO ME
WHO DO YOU THINK WILL BE SHAVING YOU-HOOO
yeahhhh get that beard off
The beard looked uncomfortable to wear
OH CUUUURRT YOUR SO DREAAAAAMMMMYYY
Barb larvenour I LOVE YOU
Watching the rest soon!
#tin can bros#tcb#tcb spies are forever#spies are forever#spies are forever spoilers#curt mega#agent curt mega#owen carvour#joey richter#deadliest man alive#joe walker#cynthia houston#lauren lopez#barb larvernor#Barb my beloved#tessa netting#esther fallick#tatiana slozhno#mary kate wiles#I love this musical so far
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You’d go softly through the dreaming village and the moon-shadowed fields, up the hill to Mockbeggar Woods.
Small Angels, Lauren Owen
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Title: Small Angels | Author: Lauren Owen | Publisher: Tinder Press (2022)
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Congratulations to Lauren Lopez for creating the least heterosexual choreography ever
#spies are forever#tcb spies are forever#tcb#tin can bros#agent curt mega#owen carvour#curtwen#lauren lopez#saf
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21 Iconic Supermodels - Kristen McMenamy, Christy Turlington, Naomi Campbell, Claudia Schiffer, Cindy Crawford, Carla Bruni, Stephanie Seymour, Shalom Harlow, Iman, Eva Herzigova, Milla Jovovich, Helena Christensen, Kirsten Owen, Carolyn Murphy, Amber Valletta, Pat Cleveland, Elisabetta Dessy, Paulina Porizkova, Lauren Hutton, Twiggy and Penelope Tree, photographed by Luigi & Iango on the cover of Vanity Fair France, October 2023.
#kristen mcmenamy#christy turlington#naomi campbell#claudia schiffer#cindy crawford#carla bruni#stephanie seymour#shalom harlow#iman abdulmajid#iman#eva herzigova#milla jovovich#helena christensen#kristen owen#carolyn murphy#amber valletta#pat cleveland#elisabetta dessy#paulina porizkova#lauren hutton#twiggy#penelope tree#luigi and iango#vanity fair france#vanity fair#2023#fashion photography#photo shoot#fashion#style
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