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freelancearsonist · 6 months ago

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every breath you take

➔ (no outbreak) Joel Miller x f!Reader

➔ 5.3k words

➔ Your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. The only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.

➔ Rated MA // BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. LONG LIVE BILL X FRANK. no outbreak, age gap (reader is early 20s, Joel is 45), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), references to masturbation (reader), pussy pronouns, pet names // reader has female anatomy (no body description but is generally able-bodied) and uses feminine pronouns, is Frank’s adopted daughter (written for all skin tones), wears makeup and a dress, has hair (unspecified length)

➔ Big big thank you to @sugarcoated-lame and @sunlightmurdock for this idea and letting me run with it (sorry it took 5 months 😂) this is psuedo-inspired by my own current activities as my best friend's moh which is why i haven't been super active in the past month or so, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me <33

June, 2013.

After months of planning—stress, sweat, and tears abounding—the big night is here. Well, almost here. The actual wedding is tomorrow, but tonight is the rehearsal dinner; and as your adoptive dad has spent the entire preparatory period impressing upon you, the rehearsal might be even more important than the wedding itself.

With that in mind, you arrive at the venue a few hours early to assist with the set up. Seeing the unassembled pieces and parts of the event brings a smile to your face and a determination to your soul–you want this to be perfect.

Someone else shares your determination, too.

You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more frustrated for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a ‘friendly’ competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.

It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but the tension is palpable enough to slice with a butter knife nonetheless. Today is no exception—he’s dressed for labor in worn jeans that are just a little too tight around his thighs and a faded Iron Maiden shirt that hugs his strong biceps. His hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging and running his hands through it, and it puts all kinds of indecent thoughts into your brain.

It’s wrong. The guy’s old enough to be your dad, and that’s aside from the fact that he’s your soon-to-be-stepdad’s best man. No self-respecting young woman should be looking at a guy who’s old enough to remember the Nixon administration the way you are right now. And yet…

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says in that drawl of his which makes you want to throw your sanity out the window and fall at his feet to worship the very ground he walks on.

You’ve never hated Joel Miller more than you do right now.

Regardless, you greet him with the sweetest smile you can muster. “Good morning. I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”

“Well, rehearsal’s as important as the weddin’ itself,” he dutifully repeats the line that you’ve heard from your dad a million times over. “And this barn ain’t gonna decorate itself.”

“Well, that’s kinda my job,” you remind him, hoping your tone sounds more annoyed to him than it does to you.

He flashes that boyish smile that no middle-aged man should be able to master, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

You want to grumble about it. You want to be annoyed by this goofy-ass forty-five year old man and his stupid competitive streak. Instead, your mouth betrays you by smiling. “I appreciate the help.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” He punctuates it with a wink, and you consider just falling onto the ground and perishing. Instead, you roll up your shirt sleeves and get to work.

The fruits of your labor are well worth the effort they take. You feel a heady sense of pride when you look around at all the decor–as long as this barn has been a wedding venue, you’re certain no one’s ever made it look this good before.

The tables are arranged neatly in rows, draped with luxurious white tablecloths and topped with neat arrangements of greenery in the centers. The seating chart that Bill and Frank worked so meticulously on is put into effect with hand-written placards designating each chair to an occupant. Strings of white globe lights hang from the rafters and cast a hazy, reverent glow over the entire barn. Everything is the perfect mix of modern and rustic.

Outside on the lawn, rows of neatly arranged chairs line a petal-scattered aisle. Everything leads to the focal point–an eight-foot high arch wrapped generously in green vines and white blossoms. It’s definitely the highlight of the entire thing, which irks you just the slightest bit–it was solely Joel’s vision. Apparently, he’s a lot more artistic than you’ve ever given him credit for. It tracks, you suppose; construction is an artform if you really think about it. He uses his hands to create just like a sculptor, but to a larger scale. And those hands are capable; you’ve seen exactly how much they can move or carry and you wonder if they could–

You shake off that train of thought before it can go any further. If you can’t get yourself under control you’re going to start wearing a rubberband on your wrist that you can snap every time your thoughts about Joel stray into the ‘things you shouldn’t be thinking about a middle-aged man’ category.

He certainly has aged like fine wine for a forty-five-year-old man, though…

Snap.

With a sigh, you give your head a shake in hopes of clearing your mind and take a look down at your watch. You’ve finished with perfect timing–you’ve got about two hours to go home and get cleaned up before you have to be back for the rehearsal dinner.

You look for Joel for a few moments before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be found. It puzzles you a little bit that he wouldn’t at least say goodbye before leaving, but then again he really doesn’t have to answer to you. It’s a well-needed wake up call, a reminder that your feelings–can whatever you’re going through really be called that?–your attraction, is one-sided. He’s here for Bill and Frank, not for you. You’re his best friend’s daughter and nothing more, and the realization washes over you like a bucket of ice water.

You hate the way it sends you spiraling on the drive home. You hate the way you care so much about what he might think of you. You hate the way that you have to look at yourself in the mirror and give yourself a stern talking-to about needing to let this whole stupid crush go. You hate the way that you can’t even pretend the extra layer of mascara you apply isn’t for him.

You avoid Joel the entire night, which isn’t easy to do. You have to walk down the aisle next to him during the ceremony rehearsal but you avoid his eye contact, taking a twisted little satisfaction in the way he frowns when all of your replies to his chit chat are short and clipped. Dinner is easier–both Frank and Bill sit between you and Joel, so there’s no attempted conversation to deflect from him. But you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you, as if he’s looking right through your dad and soon-to-be-stepdad.

Joel is puzzled, to put it simply. One second, he’s got you in the palm of his hand. Then a moment later, you’re looking at him like you might look at a bug you stepped on and got stuck to your shoe.

He puts it out of mind as much as he can. He’s not supposed to be looking at you like that, after all. He’s not supposed to be admiring the perfectly kissable curve of your shoulder or the biteable expanse of your neck. He’s definitely not supposed to be wondering what you’re wearing under that adorable dress of yours. You’re his best friend’s daughter, for god’s sake. You’re so far off limits that he shouldn’t even be looking in your general direction.

But he is. He’s looking, and he can’t stop looking. And most of all, he can’t stop wondering if you feel it too.

Evidently you don’t, because you won’t even take his arm as you practice walking up the aisle in preparation for the big day tomorrow. You’ve probably figured out how much he’s been thinking about you and the kinds of things he’s been thinking, and you’re disgusted. He’s just a dirty old man to you, surely.

Little does Joel know that you come on your fingers moaning his name practically as soon as you’re through the door of your hotel room that night. You fall asleep before you can feel too ashamed about it–blissfully unaware that Joel’s doing the same exact thing just a few doors down.

You wake up in the morning with much more clarity than you usually have, especially at 9AM.

No matter what, today is about Bill and Frank. You get to be part of a true love story, the kind that your dad used to read about to you in bedtime stories when you were a little girl. That knowledge steadies your mind more than anything else ever could.

You jump into the shower and try your best to tame your unruly hair before shuffling down to the dining area on the ground floor of the hotel.

Bill and Frank really spared no expense on this place. All the food is fresh and hot, replenished every few minutes. It smells incredible–there’s overlapping waves of pastries, sausages, eggs, and fruits. It’s almost overwhelming; there’s way too many options.

After you pile up a plate with as much as your stomach can comfortably handle, you make your way over to the table your father occupies by himself.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” he says through a mouthful of cantaloupe.

“Decided to sleep in a little,” you explain. “Where’s Bill?”

“He already had breakfast, he’s getting ready,” Frank explains. “Joel made out a whole schedule for us, put us on different shifts so we don’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck, after all.”

You snort through a bite of biscuits and gravy, because that’s such a characteristically Joel thing to do. From what you know of him, he thrives with routine and function–you’re surprised he doesn’t have you working off of a schedule, too.

A small, annoying part of your brain thinks it’s really adorable that Joel plays into that whole superstition. Another, more sensible part tells you that nothing Joel does is adorable and you’ve really got to stop thinking about him so much.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask, looking up at your dad through a bite of blueberry muffin.

“Relieved, honestly,” he admits with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. “I finally get to marry my best friend today, with my other best friend by my side.”

You hide the way the comment makes you choke up behind another bite of your breakfast.

There have been a lot of times where you’ve gone unwanted in your life; starting right at birth, continuing with unrequited crushes and lost friendships. But one person has always wanted you and been there for you through thick and thin. Frank picks you up every time no matter how hard you fall, and you feel so unbelievably lucky to be in his life.

If anyone deserves a fairytale ending, it’s Frank. He always puts the people he cares about first, and now it’s his turn to shine. You’re not letting anything get in the way of that–especially not stupid, unrequited feelings for the best man.

With a little more resolve in your mind, it’s easier to get ready for the main event.

Every step of your preparation has been immaculately planned over the course of months. From your dress to your make-up, to your hair, not one detail has been overlooked. It takes you more than an hour to get ready–but when you’re ready, you’re a vision. Even though you’re not normally the type to enjoy looking into the mirror, you have to admit to yourself that you look stunning.

Your traitorous brain wonders if Joel will think the same.

With a heavy sigh, you grab your bag and your car keys. You really wish you had a way to shut those intruding little wishful thoughts off–they’re doing more harm than good at this point.

You take a deep breath, shove as much as you can down, and resolve to have a good time celebrating your dads–then you open the door and set out towards an unforgettable night.

Whatever kind of shock and awe you were hoping to inspire in Joel, it’s surely nothing compared to the rush you feel as you find him in the bridal party lounge.

You’ve never seen him quite so put together. He’s normally a bit undone–a symptom of being a long-time bachelor–but today, he’s perfectly styled. The hair he’s been growing out is slicked back into gorgeous curls, his black tuxedo pants hug his hips like a dream. He’s in the process of fastening the last two buttons on his impeccable white dress shirt and every bone in your body screams to stop him–to keep that peek of his tanned chest on display for your hungry eyes.

You have a fearful moment of thinking you actually made the request aloud, because he does stop in his tracks when his eyes land on you. His lips part in shock and his pupils dilate and he freezes. Fingers that were once absentmindedly completing their task drop to his sides as he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “wow.”

“Need help?” You offer before you can think better of it.

There’s a long moment of tense silence, and then he nods silently.

Your mouth is dry as you approach him, trying desperately to keep your cool. Your clammy palms are definitely not the most qualified to complete this task for him, but you can’t back down now. With a deep breath–you’re so close now that it fills your nose with the spicy, intoxicating scent of his cologne–you will your hands to stay steady and reach for his shirt buttons.

His lead tongue finally remembers how to work as you fasten the first button. “You look… incredible.”

“So do you,” you whisper. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, ready to step back and breathe properly again, his hand comes up to offer you a bow tie.

“This too?” His warm brown eyes search yours–how could he ever expect you to say no?

“Y-yeah. Sure.” You turn the collar of his shirt up, then carefully fasten the tie around his neck. The band is perfectly configured to his neck, the bow already tied–all you have to do is secure a hook through a loop. He could’ve easily done this himself; and yet he didn’t. He wanted you to do this, and that particular bit of knowledge sends a rush of heat burning through your veins.

Maybe this whole song and dance isn’t quite as unrequited as you originally thought.

Your fingers brush his warm skin as you smooth his shirt collar back down over the band of the tie and it’s like an electric shock that shoots through every inch of your body. You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again.

You’re done with your task, yet you can’t bring yourself to step away. He doesn’t either–for seconds that feel like hours, you look into those dark eyes and feel his breath against your face and you finally have the courage to do something about it. You’re going to kiss him, just lean in a little further and–

The sound of the lounge door opening makes your body jolt with the force of an actual fork in an outlet.

“There you are!” Frank’s got an untamable smile on his face–his hair is impeccably gelled back, his white tuxedo tailored to fit like a glove. The sight of him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted, brings tears to your eyes. “Wow, you two look amazing.”

“Hey. Thanks.” You’re fighting with all your strength to keep your voice even and calm despite the compliment. The reality of your father’s happily ever after comes crashing in and you’ve never felt so proud. “First look time?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. “Is Bill–?”

“Dressin’,” Joel answers after clearing his throat. “I’ll bring ’im out when he’s done.”

“Perfect, thank you.” Frank takes your hand to lead you outside, but not before you look over your shoulder at Joel. He looks thoroughly disheveled despite his sharp appearance–you’ve gotten under his skin. Good.

Thank god for waterproof make-up because you nearly lose your whole face during the first look. Not that you’re wearing much, but it’s enough that it’s jeopardized by the tears your treacherous eyes shed despite trying in vain to will them away.

You’ve never been so happy for two people before. You’ve never seen two people more in love. In their matching white tuxes, with their matching watery eyes, as they turn to greet each other for the first time today, you know that Bill and Frank are a forever thing. It brings you a sense of peace that you never knew was possible.

At some point, you become conscious of the fact that you’re holding Joel’s hand. You know you probably shouldn’t, that you could get both of you in serious trouble–but he’s not pulling away, so neither do you.

The true test of your mascara comes during the ceremony–it passes the test with flying colors, which is truly impressive considering the tsunami it has to hold up against. You’ve never really been a wedding cryer, although you suppose no one would blame you for this one. You’re hardly the only person walking away with tissues to their eyes. Bill and Frank have loved so hard and fought for so long in order to obtain this day–it’s nothing short of incredible to see them finally seal their union with vows.

Before the reception, you pop into the bridal lounge to make sure you’re still presentable. A couple tissues later and you’re good to go, but the sound of the door opening and the lock clicking into place stops you in your tracks.

Joel’s standing there, looking like a dream. Curls slightly disheveled from the wind, top two buttons of his shirt undone with his bowtie hanging out of his jacket pocket. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, albeit not as bad as yours.

His breath seems to catch when he sees you–he clears his throat before whispering, “Hey.”

For a long moment, your tongue is too heavy to speak. Every ounce of desire from earlier comes rushing back in a flash flood of emotion. It’s just you and him and tension so palpable you could grab ahold of it.

“H-hey,” you breathe. Earlier, you were ready to do something drastic. Now, all the familiar doubts come crashing back in. Are all these feelings one-sided? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see? The feeling of his hand in yours is burned into your palm. Does he feel it too?

“I think it went pretty well,” he hums. His hands are tucked into his pockets, thumbs twitching unconsciously as if he’s nervous.

“It was perfect,” you agree.

For a moment that seems to last a lifetime, you both stand toeing the line. It’s right there, unseen but waiting to be crossed. You don’t know if either of you have the courage it takes to step over it.

And then he moves; he breaks the tenuous balance of platonic and something more by closing the distance between you.

“You really do look amazin’,” he breathes, hands clenching indecisively at his sides. “I mean, you always do, but–”

You grab him before he can finish his sentence. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ is blaring on the outdoor speakers as your lips finally meet his. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, of dreaming about this moment. It’s better than you ever could’ve imagined.

The world fades away as his breath becomes yours. There’s nothing but the feeling of his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip and his hands gripping your waist and his curls tickling your forehead. Nothing but the sound of his deep groan and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm as it slides up his chest. Nothing but finally feeling complete.

“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, but he doesn’t dare pull away. His steps sound like cannonfire as he backs you up against the wall, a march towards something deliciously irreversible as his tight grip on your waist bunches the fabric of your dress up. Nothing has ever felt as right as his entire body surrounding and swallowing you this way.

“I want to,” you breathe against his lips. “Do you?”

“God, yes.”

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, desperately wanting every inch of his body pressed up against you. Just as he’s starting to pull the skirt of your dress up, the song outside changes to ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, strangely apt but also a reminder that you don’t have time. You made this playlist yourself–you know that there’s only three more songs after this one before you’re supposed to be ready for the bridal party entrance to the reception.

“Joel…” you moan out. “Joel, we have to be quick.”

“How quick?” He questions between searing kisses down the length of your neck.

“Ten minutes at the very most.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. He doesn’t pull away though–if anything, he pushes you back harder against the wall. “You still wanna do this?”

As much as you want to say yes, as much as you want to say fuck the reception, you can’t do that to Frank and Bill. “You think ten minutes is enough time?”

“If I can’t make you come in ten minutes I’ll eat my own fist.”

It makes you shiver in conjunction with the way his hand slides feather-light up your thigh.

Even the ghosting touch of his calloused fingertips on your sensitive skin has you aching for more. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me crazy.”

The cocky bastard has the audacity to actually wink at you. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

You drag his lips back to yours with a renewed sense of desperation, relishing the gentle scratch of his trimmed beard against your chin and under your palms. “It’s definitely working.”

“Good.”

You know this is territory that you probably shouldn’t be crossing into, not when he’s twenty years older than you and he’s your new step-dad's best friend, but you can’t be brought to care when those deliciously rough fingertips are slipping under the hem of your panties.

“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips. “She’s soakin’ for me.”

“A-always is,” you gasp out.

His fingers sweep through your folds, gathering as much slick as he can to swirl around your sensitive clit. He smirks at the way your hands tighten on him even at the lightest of touches.

“That how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and gentle?” He presses a little firmer and a grin spreads over his face at the gasp you let out. “Oh, that’s it.”

“Joel, please…” Your hands move to his arms, squeezing tighter than you probably should but you can’t help it when he’s touching you like this. It’s exactly what you need and he knows it–he watches your face for every little indication that he’s doing a good job.

“Please what?” He purrs quietly. “What do you need?”

You could go on like this for hours, you’re sure–and you’re sure he’d be more than willing. You could stay here in his arms forever and let him work you over until there’s nothing left in your head but his name.

The song outside changes again, and you know forever will have to wait.

“Fuck me,” you plead. “Need you.”

“It’s gonna be tight, sweetheart.” You’d think he was being overly confident if you couldn’t feel the size of the bulge pressing against your thigh.

“That’s okay. Please.”

“Alright, sweetheart.” In a flash he’s got his belt undone and your greedy hands are more than happy to assist in shoving those perfectly pressed pants down his sturdy thighs.

You can’t help the gasp that bubbles out with the sight of him. He’s big. There’s no debate. The flushed tip of him is peeking through mouth-watering foreskin, red and flushed as if angry it’s not inside you already. You’re devastated you don’t have time to take that thick length into your mouth, to make him shudder and shake until he’s begging to fill you.

Later, you remind yourself.

“Still sure about this?” He asks, tone no longer brimming with the urgency and arrogance from just a few moments prior. He searches your eyes intimately for any hint of hesitation–the last thing he wants to do is to push you.

You’ve never wanted anyone more.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”

“Easy, honey. I’ve gotcha.” The hand between your thighs moves to coat him in your slick–for a moment, you’re mesmerized at the sight of his big hand working over his cock. “Gotta tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feel good, ‘kay?”

“I will, I swear, just please–”

The rest of your sentence gets lost in a breathless moan with the first gentle thrust of his hips. Even just the tip is a stretch–one that has your nails digging into his shirt-clad back and your thighs tightening around his waist.

“Shit, sweetie,” he purrs, voice liquid gold. “Gotta relax, gotta lemme in–”

You manage to loosen your thighs a little and it gives him the space he needs to press all the way in to the hilt–the feeling of him filling you completely is nothing but breathtaking. A broken groan tumbles from his lips–you can feel the way his breath hitches from how his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you.

“Good?” He questions in a whisper. One of his hands is hooked under your left knee to keep your leg up around his waist; the other strokes absentminded patterns over your right hip, as if unconsciously soothing you.

You give him a shaky nod in response. “Good.”

The pace he sets is the most delicious kind of torture. You both know you’re in a time crunch, so Joel is more than happy to employ the most toe-curlingly relentless speed. Every slick thrust of his cock makes your eyes flutter–little breathy moans escape your lips with fervor as he pounds deep. He's hitting every single spot all at once and then some. All the while his lips trace around your neck and jaw, careful not to leave marks but whining quietly as if he’s tempted. As if he wants nothing more than to claim you in a way that everyone can see.

You moan out his name and the hand on your waist comes to help, settling between your bodies and finding that perfect rhythm from before. You’re finding out that he’s a very intuitive and quick learner–you would certainly praise him for it if you could find the breath to do so.

The way his hips work–driving him deeper than anyone’s ever been; the way his fingers swirl–bringing you to the brink in mere minutes with the most thigh-shaking friction; the way his mouth works, sucking just light enough on the sweet spot behind your ear so as not to leave a mark… it all builds and builds and builds, leaving you breathless and trembling and teetering on the edge of pure oblivion.

“Y’feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he gasps out against your cheek. “Never gonna get enough.”

The words alone send white-hot pleasure shooting down your spine–you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you know he’s wanted you too. It feels even better with that satisfaction, with the fact of winning the prize you’ve been coveting so deeply.

“Joel…” You want to tell him the million thoughts that are rushing through your head, but your lungs aren’t cooperating.

“I know baby,” he murmurs with a particularly devastating thrust. “I know. S’okay.”

It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. You dig your nails into his shirt to tug him closer, a silent plea to get him working against that spot again. He complies without words, hitching your leg a little higher around his waist and angling his hips in a way that makes you cry out his name again.

“I’m gonna–”

“Yeah, go ‘head,” he purrs breathlessly. “Lemme feel it, come all over my cock.”

His fingers press a little firmer against your clit and that’s all you need for the knot in your stomach to unravel with blinding force. It travels through every nerve like some delicious form of spontaneous combustion, making your body shiver with the energy of it. It’s the best you’ve ever felt–you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it, either.

“That’s it honey, holy shit…” He murmurs before finally meeting your lips again for a breathless and panting kiss. “W-where?”

For a moment, you have no clue what he could possibly be talking about. His thrusts are losing rhythm with each moment, as if he’s about to–

“Inside,” you whine out after your moment of clarity. “Please–”

“Shit,” he spits even as he drives himself impossibly deeper. “Y’sure?”

You’re not even conscious of nodding your head–all you know is that you need him completely. “It’s safe. Promise.”

“Atta girl,” he whispers. “Gonna leave you fuckin’ drippin’, won’t be able to stop feelin’ it all night–”

His head tips back as the first wave crashes over him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open as his hips grind into yours. There’s nothing short of pure ecstasy on his face with the first few ropes of cum that fill you. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the pleasure washing over this gorgeous man’s gorgeous face. Knowing that you’re the cause of all this nearly sends you over the edge all over again.

He grunts as he shoves himself a little deeper, eager to feel every inch of you as he unwinds. “Christ, honey… squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.”

“Not my fault you’re huge.”

He chuckles at that, staying seated deep within your walls for a moment longer so he can kiss you again. It’s lost its edge of desperation, but it makes up for it with an overwhelming note of sweetness. His hand cups your jaw to guide the angle and once again you’re struck by that overwhelming sense of rightness. It’s like you were meant to be here, meant to take everything he gives you and more, meant to love him.

The song outside changes to ‘Every Breath You Take’, the song before the entrance song, and you spring to action.

“Shit, Joel, we’ve got to go.”

He pulls out with an overdramatic groan, as if it hurts him to be separated now that he knows what it feels like to be joined. You can feel the drip start even before his hand comes to fix your panties, but there’s hardly enough time to worry about that.

“How’s my make-up?”

“Perfect, darlin’. Not a thing outta place.”

“Thank god for waterproof,” you chuckle as you straighten your dress.

His dark eyes meet yours as your hands smooth out his rumpled shirt–there’s still so much swirling behind them, so much promise of things to come.

“We’ve gotta go,” you repeat when he halts by the door.

“Just a sec,” he murmurs. And then he pulls you in for one final, saccharine sweet kiss. “Come to my room w’me tonight.”

“Okay,” you promise–you’re surprised you can keep your voice even when just the question makes your heart skip a beat.

“Thank you.” It’s genuine, earnest. It makes your heart skip another beat.

He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to.

➔ beta: @schnarfer and @futuraa-free thank you my darlings <3 ; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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sourabh11 · 3 months ago

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Rustic Wedding Venues in MA: The Barn at Bradstreet Farm for Your Big Day

Discover The Barn at Bradstreet Farm, one of the most enchanting rustic wedding venues in MA. Nestled on a historic farm dating back to 1635, this venue offers a perfect blend of rustic charm and modern elegance. With picturesque barns, scenic grounds, and breathtaking views, it provides a beautiful backdrop for your special day. Whether you're planning an intimate ceremony or a grand celebration, The Barn at Bradstreet Farm offers a unique setting for unforgettable moments. Let us help you create the wedding of your dreams in a timeless, rustic setting filled with history and romance.

#Rustic Wedding Venues in MA

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cainlogan908 · 1 year ago

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Texas Ties: Unveiling the Top 5 Wedding Venues Across the Lone Star State

The Lone Star State, known for its vast landscapes and diverse culture, offers an array of wedding venues that cater to every couple's dream. From rustic ranches to elegant ballrooms, Texas wedding venues boast a unique charm that reflects the state's rich history and warm hospitality. In this exploration, we unveil the top five wedding venues across Texas, each with its own distinctive character and appeal.

A Tapestry of Diversity: Texas Wedding Venues

Planning a wedding in Texas means entering a realm of diversity, where the sprawling prairies, historic landmarks, and modern cityscapes converge to create a tapestry of wedding venue options. These venues go beyond being mere spaces; they become the stages where couples weave their love stories into the rich fabric of Texas.

1. The White Sparrow Barn: Rustic Elegance in Quinlan

Nestled in Quinlan, The White Sparrow Barn epitomizes rustic elegance with a touch of Southern charm. The venue features a stunning white barn surrounded by acres of open fields and lush greenery, providing a picturesque backdrop for ceremonies and receptions. With its classic yet contemporary aesthetic, The White Sparrow Barn captures the essence of Texas's rustic beauty, making it a sought-after destination for couples seeking a blend of elegance and simplicity.

2. The Driskill: Historic Grandeur in Austin

For couples seeking historic grandeur, The Driskill in Austin stands as an iconic venue that effortlessly combines luxury and history. Built in 1886, this historic hotel exudes old-world charm with its grand architecture, ornate details, and opulent ballrooms. The Driskill offers a timeless setting where couples can celebrate their love surrounded by the allure of a bygone era, creating an atmosphere of sophistication and romance.

3. The Chandelier of Gruene: Hill Country Chic in New Braunfels

Located in the charming town of New Braunfels, The Chandelier of Gruene embodies Hill Country chic with a touch of Southern hospitality. This venue features a rustic yet elegant chandelier-lit barn and expansive outdoor spaces surrounded by Texas Hill Country views. The blend of natural beauty and charming architecture creates a warm and inviting atmosphere, making The Chandelier of Gruene a perfect choice for couples seeking a relaxed yet stylish wedding celebration.

4. The Houstonian Hotel, Club & Spa: Urban Luxury in Houston

For couples desiring urban luxury, The Houstonian Hotel, Club & Spa in Houston offers a sophisticated and upscale setting. Nestled in a wooded oasis in the heart of Houston, this venue provides a combination of modern elegance and natural beauty. With its lush gardens, elegant ballrooms, and impeccable service, The Houstonian offers a luxurious backdrop for couples looking to celebrate their love in the midst of the city's cosmopolitan charm.

5. Ma Maison: French-inspired Romance in Dripping Springs

Situated in Dripping Springs, Ma Maison brings a touch of French-inspired romance to the Texas Hill Country. The venue features European architecture, manicured gardens, and elegant ballrooms that exude timeless charm. With its versatile indoor and outdoor spaces, Ma Maison provides couples with the flexibility to create a wedding that reflects their unique style, offering a blend of sophistication and romance against the backdrop of the Texas Hill Country.

Conclusion: Where Texas Love Stories Unfold

In conclusion, the top five wedding venues in Texas unveil a tapestry of love stories, each uniquely woven into the fabric of the Lone Star State. Whether it's the rustic elegance of The White Sparrow Barn, the historic grandeur of The Driskill, the Hill Country chic at The Chandelier of Gruene, the urban luxury of The Houstonian Hotel, Club & Spa, or the French-inspired romance of Ma Maison, each venue offers a distinct experience.

These venues become more than settings; they become the stages where Texas love stories unfold, where couples create memories that are as diverse and rich as the state itself. From the rustic countryside to the heart of vibrant cities, Texas wedding venues showcase the state's ability to cater to every couple's vision, providing a perfect backdrop for the chapters of love that unfold within its borders.

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poonammsharma · 1 year ago

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A Guide to Planning a Vintage-Inspired Wedding

I've had the privilege of orchestrating countless weddings, each unique in its own way. One theme that has stood the test of time and exudes an undeniable charm is the vintage-inspired wedding. Drawing inspiration from a bygone era, a vintage-themed celebration brings a touch of nostalgia and elegance to your special day. In this guide, I'll walk you through the essential steps to curate a wedding that beautifully encapsulates the allure of the past.

Set the Stage with the Right Era

The term "vintage" encompasses a wide range of styles spanning different decades, from the roaring '20s to the glamorous '50s. Begin by selecting the era that resonates most with you and your partner. Whether it's the Art Deco opulence of the 1920s or the retro chic of the 1960s, choosing a specific period will serve as the foundation for all your design decisions.

The Venue: A Timeless Backdrop

Selecting the right venue is crucial in setting the tone for a vintage-inspired wedding. Opt for locations that exude old-world charm, such as historic estates, vintage barns, or intimate garden settings. Look for venues with architectural details, like ornate mouldings, grand staircases, or vintage fixtures, that evoke the spirit of your chosen era.

Embrace Vintage Decor Elements

Every detail matters when it comes to a vintage-inspired wedding. Incorporate elements like lace, antique china, mismatched vintage chairs, and candelabras to infuse your celebration with a sense of history. Seek out vintage props, like typewriters, old books, or gramophones, to create nostalgic focal points throughout the venue.

The Attire: Timeless Elegance

The attire sets the stage for your vintage-inspired affair. For the bride, consider a gown that echoes the style of your chosen era. Think flowing silhouettes for a bohemian '70s vibe, tea-length dresses for a 1950s look, or beaded gowns for a Great Gatsby-inspired ensemble. For the groom and bridal party, choose attire that complements the overall theme, whether it's tweed suits for a rustic vintage feel or sleek tuxedos for a classic, sophisticated look.

Vintage-Inspired Florals

Flowers play a pivotal role in creating the atmosphere of a vintage wedding. Opt for blooms that evoke a sense of nostalgia, such as peonies, roses, and hydrangeas. Consider arrangements in soft, muted tones like blush, ivory, and lavender. Vintage-inspired vessels like mercury glass vases or antique teacups add an extra layer of charm. Being the owner of Poonam Mayank Sharma, one of the best wedding planners in Bangalore, I have had the pleasure of experimenting with flowers quite a lot.

Transport Back in Time with Music

The right music can transport your guests back to the era you've chosen. Curate a playlist that features hits from the period, or consider hiring a live band or musicians who specialize in vintage tunes. Whether it's a jazz quartet or a swing band, live music adds an authentic touch to the celebration.

Nostalgic Keepsakes and Favors

Send your guests home with tokens that evoke the charm of the past. Consider personalized vintage-inspired favors like antique key bottle openers, hand-stamped linen napkins, or vintage-inspired postcards. These keepsakes will serve as cherished mementoes of your timeless affair.

Capture the Memories in Vintage Style

Select a photographer and videographer who have experience in capturing the essence of vintage weddings. Discuss your vision for the day and ensure they have the expertise to use filters or editing techniques that enhance the nostalgic feel of your photos and videos.

In conclusion, a vintage-inspired wedding is a celebration of timeless elegance and romance. By carefully curating every detail, from the venue to the attire and decor, you can create a day that transports you and your guests to a bygone era. Embrace the charm of yesteryear and let the nostalgia of a vintage-themed celebration infuse your wedding with a unique and unforgettable magic.

#wedding planner #wedding #wedding planning #bangalore wedding planners

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hometoursandotherstuff · 2 years ago

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From the archives: The estate is also known as “Santarella” and the Gingerbread House Estate, in Tyringham Hills, Massachusetts, consists of four homes. It’s a special place that I think you will love to see.

The property also consists of the Colonial House.

The Gingerbread House.

And, the very magical Silo Studio.

Let’s look at the Silo Studio. The owners rent it out on Airbnb and it’s really cute.

It’s cozy and has this lovely window to dine by.

And, in the tower is a romantic bedroom.

The Gingerbread house, was repurposed into living quarters from an 1810 barn.

The barn is used as a venue for weddings, etc.

This is the living room in the Red Colonial house on the right. How cozy is this?

Lovely original beams are throughout the house.

This is a renovated residence- I do like the white fireplace in the kitchen.

It has a knotty pine bedroom and a bath.

There’s a lot to this enchanting property that consists of 3.78 acres. But, look at how fairy tale-like it is.

It’s been renovated and it’s hard to determine which rooms belong to which buildings. At any rate, for the entire Santarella Gingerbread House Estate, there are 7 bedrooms and 3 full baths and 3 half baths, with 7,750 square feet of living space

I don’t know, this just looks like a normal bd., instead of something in such a magical building.

I’m not sure that I like the way they converted them- I think I would’ve done something more fairy tale-like on the interiors, too.

In buildings like these, I would expect the interiors to look much different, although I do like the Silo Studio and the barn.

https://housekaboodle.com/gingerbread-house-estate-ma-fairy-tale-living/

#fairy tale houses #unique homes #houses #architecture #old house dreams #long post

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theblackfeathers · 3 years ago

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Sorry we've been so quiet of late. It's all been a bit full on behind the scenes here at TBFHQ. We've been hard at work recording album 2 and organising another US tour with the help of Louise and Bruce over at @bakerbooking We figured it was about time we let you how one of those was looking! So here's a handy map (with an interactive version over on our website) and a list of dates below. If you'd like to host us for a show, or you know of a venue we should add, let us know! TOUR DATES - US 2022 April TBC - Wed 27 - Blue Guitar Room, South Pasadena, CA Sat 30 - House Concert, Los Angeles, CA May Sun 1 - Live at the A-Frame, Kagel Canyon, CA Fri 6 - Ojai Underground, Ojai, CA Sun 8 - The Back Room, Berkeley, CA TBC - Thu 12 / Fri 13 - House Concert, Cottage Grove, OR Sat 14 - Hart House Concerts, Beaverton, OR TBC - Sun 15 - House Concert, Olympia, WA Thu 19 - Rainshadow Recording Studio, Port Townsend, WA Fri 20 - Concerts In The Barn, Quilcene, WA Sat 21 - House Concert, Seattle, WA Sun 22 - Concerts in the Woods, Coyle, WA Wed 25 - Birdsong House Concerts, Seattle, WA June TBC - 23-26 - Laytonville, CA July TBC - Fri 29 - Two Way Street Coffeehouse, Downers Grove, IL August TBC - 4-7 = Appleton, WI Thu 11 - The Ark, Ann Arbor, MI Mon 15 - 49 West Coffeehouse, Annapolis, MD Fri 26 - Gloria's, Warrenton, VA Sat 27 - Concerts at the Sevareid House, Alexandria, VA September Sun 4 - P.M. Sundays, Richmond, VT Sat 10 - Old Sloop Coffeehouse, Rockport, MA Sun 11 - Occasional Concerts, Plainfield, VT TBC - Fri 16 - Folkus, Syracuse, NY Sat 17 - 6 On the Square, Oxford, NY Sun 18 - River Vibes at the Cooperage, Honesdale, PA Thu 22 - Lansdowne Folk Club, Lansdowne, PA Fri 23 - Caffe Lena, Saratoga Springs, NY Sat 24 - House Concert, Schuyler Lake, NY Sun 25 - Cozy Cabin House Concert, Green Brook Township, NJ TBC - Fri 30 - Godfrey Daniels, Bethlehem, PA October Sat 1 - Voices Cafe, Westport, CT Sun 2 - Rosie's Cafe, Brick Township, NJ TBC Fri 7 - White Horse, Black Mountain, NC Sat 8 - Wake Forest Listening Room, Wake Forest, NC TBC - Sun 9 - House Concert, Bakersville, NC Tue 18 - The Lobby Lounge, Slidell, LA TBC - Sat 29 - ACMA, Ft Myers, FL https://www.instagram.com/p/CWJYwH4rwJe/?utm_medium=tumblr

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winterromanov · 5 years ago

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Maybe a childhood friends au? Maybe they grew up together and Bucky saw her as a little sister then they don’t see each other for a while and she comes home from college and is like.... woah. But she’s always had a crush on him??

pairing: bucky x reader

It’s hard to say how long you’ve been in love with James Buchanan Barnes. You want to say forever--you’re a bit prone to the dramatics--and maybe it has been, because you can’t remember a moment where you’ve not been absolutely, totally, completely enamoured by him. He’s smart and funny and attractive, goddammit, and he’d pushed Brock Rumlow over when he’d called you a stupid little girl and danced with you at your moms’ friend’s wedding, spinning you round and round aged nine until you were so dizzy you couldn’t stand.

He’s left you that dizzy ever since.

But--and there’s always a but--he’s always looked at you with the soft eyes of an older brother, protective and loyal in the same way he is with Becca. He’s only two years older than you but it feels like an eternity. To him, you’re always going to be the little girl thrashing about in the pool with his baby sister every summer vacation. The girl who he ritually scared on Halloween by jumping out from behind the bush in your front yard in increasingly scary masks. And, the summer following his senior year, the girl who stood teary-eyed on his porch as you watched him pack up his dad’s minivan for Stanford.

He’d pressed a kiss on Becca’s forehead she sobbed near uncontrollably, the ache of missing him sharp in her chest even though he’d not even set off for the airport yet. Then he’d turned to you, smiling mischievously in a way that had made many a girl other than you crumble, and lifted your chin with his middle finger.

“Look after Becs for me, yeah?” Then he’d winked, and you’d used every single inch of will power you had to not break down like Becca. You somehow managed a nod, your own smile tight. “Can always rely on you, (Y/N).”

You’d never wanted to hug him more. To grab his body close, squeeze the life out of it, to beg him not to go. But Bucky Barnes was not yours, never would be, never would look at you in the way you wanted him to.

You watch as his dad’s truck slowly drives away, chugging exhaust fumes, until it’s merely an orange speck heading for the freeway. You watch your whole world disappear from view--and you never told him how aged nine he shook you up like a snowglobe on the burnished wood floor of a church hall, your shoes squeaking and his laugh in your ears and your heart fluttering in your throat.

You didn’t know much about love, per say, so you’re uncertain on whether it’s more difficult to move on from somebody who once loved you back or someone who never loved you at all. Either way, it takes a hell of a long time for you to forget Becca Barnes’ older brother, if you ever truly forget him at all. You graduate high school and miraculously get onto the Yale literature program and somehow six years have passed since you last saw him, properly, your adoration for him haunting the back of your mind. You kiss boys and break up with boys but you arrive at Becca’s wedding ceremony without an arm linked to your own, in a pretty dress with no-one to admire it.

Madly, it doesn’t cross your mind that Bucky will be there, even though he’s Becca’s only sibling. Of course he’s going to be there. It’s just--you see him stood at the front of the venue, in a fancy suit and a shorter haircut, six years older and Jesus Christ. He’s not the teasing, handsome boy of eighteen who broke your heart without knowing anymore. He’s a proper grownup.

For half a second, his excited blue eyes meet yours over rows and rows of ribbon-decked chairs. He blinks, mouth slightly open like he’s on the edge of a sentence, and you’re suddenly sixteen again. Your cheeks flush as you quickly find a seat next to somebody you know from school.

Your frantically beating heart let’s you know the pretty fucking obvious. You never truly forgot him, did you?

Becca’s wedding is beautiful. She marries a girl she met on her first day of fashion school and they wear gowns they both designed themselves. As you follow the rest of the guests out of the hotel and into the courtyard for pictures, you find yourself becoming swept up in the delirium of the day, throwing rose petals on your sobbing childhood friend as she clutches the hand of the love of her life.

“(Y/N).”

His voice sounds the same--more mature maybe, but mostly the same. When you turn round he’s stood with his hands in the pocket of his grey suit, rose petals caught in his hair.

(His smile is also identical. You’d be heartbroken, even more so, if that ever changed.)

“Bucky,” you say, smiling, in a frankly shit attempt at being nonchalant. “You look really well.”

He shrugs, before gesturing at you. “And you--Jesus, (Y/N), you grew up.”

“Of course I did! And Becca, too.” The sun sharply comes out from behind the clouds so you shield your eyes, seeing him better. “I always knew her wedding day would be beautiful. You must be so happy and proud of her.”

“I am. Always. In everything she does. But you always knew that.”

He’s right about that. You’d never meet a more supportive brother than Bucky. His mouth opens as he looks at you intensely, on the verge of saying something, before a hand curls round his shoulder asking him to join in with the photographs.

“In a second,” he says, before turning and pointing at you. “You’ll be at the reception, yeah? I’d really like to catch up.”

“As if I’d miss it!” you chirp, and he grins as he’s swallowed by another crowd.

It’s like your heart hurts preemptively. Watching Bucky Barnes whirlwind back into your life for a moment before disappearing again, melting like snow on your winter boots.

The Barnes’ a so popular than their reception is understandingly full to the rafters, family and friends and a never-ending list of others besides, meaning every single dinner table is full and James is sat all the way at the front at the top. You talk idly to old school friends about how their lives have gone. An old neighbour with a man-bun writes his number on a napkin and tucks it into the front of your dress, like you’d find that sexy. Champagne is drunk and Becca cries even more and you figure that Bucky has forgotten you again as the evening eclipses into the night. The live band plays beautiful folk covers--Becca and Josie have their first dance to Bon Iver’s Skinny Love, clinging onto each other like the world is ending around them--but you don’t feel like dancing.

The whole day has been perfect. You can’t describe it any other way. But then why do you feel so empty?

You grab another glass of champagne and weave between half-drunk revellers out onto the veranda, where the air is cooler and the music is muted, blurred. White fairy lights stretch out across the lawn and you see a couple kissing under a marquee. Taking a deep breath, you sit on the steps, the stone cold against the bare skin of your legs.

“Room for an old friend?”

You look up, even though you know who it is. You shuffle along so he can slide in beside you, shivering as the warmth of his thigh presses against yours.

“I meant to grab you sooner, but y’know.” He laughs, looking down at his legs. “Big family, big wedding. Think everybody wanted a piece of me.”

“It’s okay.” You shiver more noticeably, and like a reflex, Bucky has rested his glass on the border and wrapping his suit jacket around your shoulders. You try to profess, insist you’re fine, but he’s having none of it.

Jesus, if your sixteen year old self could see you now. You pull it tighter round yourself, the material soft, the woody scent of his cologne clinging to the fabric.

“I don’t know how the years passed, (Y/N). I kept meaning to... but suddenly I was graduating, and Becca told me you’d got into Yale--good on you, by the way--and now I’ve got this job in the city, and it just...” He looks at you, and for the first time, it doesn’t feel like he’s looking at a little girl anymore. “Happened. And now my baby sister is married. Fucking hell.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Me and Becs used to talk about getting married when we were kids. She always said she wanted to marry Julia Roberts and she’d make their dresses, which come to think of it was probably a sign she wasn’t going to marry a man in the end.”

“Yeah. Certainly sounds like it.” He laughs and fuck, it takes you back, to lying on the grass in the dark and Bucky would point out constellations he’d learnt at school. Just you, and him, because Becca thought space was boring and would rather drink hot chocolate in the house instead. With a grin, he nudges your shoulder with his. “And what about you, huh? Who were you going to marry?”

It’s a good job it’s dark otherwise he’d see how bright your cheeks burned. “Oh. I, uh--I don’t remember. Probably Orlando Bloom. Or something.”

“Orlando Bloom. Right. Good choice.”

His eyes flicker over you again and you fight the urge to meet his gaze, not quite wanting to read it. You allow the quiet to wash over you, tinged by the slow, chilling lull of a Hozier track in the main ballroom.

“I left it too long, didn’t I?” Bucky says, eyes flicking onto the middle distance, “You know...I always wanted to, (Y/N).”

Your brows furrow. “Wanted what?”

“To tell you. Because you’ve always been there, and you didn’t have to be, but you were. When Ma died, you were there. When I left for college, you were there.” He half-smiles, blinking slowly. “I thought I’d tell you then, but Becca was crying and she needed you more than I did.”

“James.” You say his real name softly, your heart about to burst out your rib cage. Because it’s been six years. Six years. You have spent six years desperately trying to get over this boy-who-is-now-a-man and now he’s... It’s on the edge of his tongue, words you’ve always wanted to hear.

Words he’s apparently always wanted to say.

“(Y/N), fuckin’ hell, I’ve been in love with you for so long I can’t remember a time when I wasn’t. And I’m a dumbass for not saying anything sooner, and I want you to know that you don’t owe me anything. I just had to--I felt like if I didn’t tell you now, I’d drag it to the grave with me. Becca’s been moaning at me for almost as long just to...”

You cut off his declarations with your lips, silencing his mouth with a kiss a whole fucking childhood in the making. His hands curl round your face, tugging you closer, fireworks exploding in your gut. You’d probably kiss for a whole lot longer if one of Bucky’s cousins didn’t choose that moment to come out for a cigarette, giving James a whoop and slapping him on the shoulder.

“Okay...” Bucky says, drawing away, “I’m taking that as a sign that my feelings aren’t completely onesided.”

“Dear God, Bucky,” you fight the urge to roll your eyes, “We are both the most oblivious people you could ever meet.”

He kisses you again. And again. And again. Until he stands, running a hand down your arm until it meets your hand.

“It sounds like we both might owe each other a dance.”

The dancefloor is mostly empty by the time Bucky drags you there, high on your own heartbeat and the champagne in the stomach. Instead of wrapping his hands round your waist and pulling you close, he winks and grabs your hands, spinning you round and round and round until you’re so dizzy you can barely stand.

Bucky Barnes has been making you dizzy for most of your existence. You don’t see him stopping anytime soon.

send me a request

#oof #this got away from me #mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky x you

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pubilc · 11 months ago

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Visit here: https://www.bradstreetfarm.com/

#Barn Weddings MA #Massachusetts Barn Weddings #Ma Barn Wedding Venues

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bradstreet-farm · 2 days ago

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Top Wedding Venue in Rowley, MA - Bradstreet Farm

Looking for the perfect wedding venue in Rowley MA? Bradstreet Farm offers a picturesque setting for your special day. Nestled in a charming location, our venue combines rustic elegance with modern amenities. Whether you're planning an intimate ceremony or a grand celebration, Bradstreet Farm provides a memorable experience for you and your guests. Contact us today to tour our stunning venue and make your wedding dreams come true!

#barn wedding venues in ma #rustic wedding venues in ma #massachusetts barn weddings #barn wedding massachusetts #ma barn wedding venues #wedding venue in Rowley MA

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yescrispygardencollectorforlove · 6 years ago

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Possible Meryl-Fedor Wedding Venue

Le Mas des Poiriers – A Farmhouse in Provence

Our family's renovation of an 18th century farmhouse in Provence set on 65 acres of pear orchard and sunflowers. Bienvenue!

🌻🍐

For additional information, please visit Le Mas des Poiriers and follow @provencepoiriers on Instagram for daily inspiration.

August 4, 2017

For years, American expatriates Shauna Varvel and her husband enjoyed spending summers with their five children in Provence. In 2014, kismet led them to rent the home that is now Le Mas des Poiriers, an 18th century farm house nestled among 65 secluded acres including working pear orchards. The family fell in love, and a year later when the property became available for sale, they decided to buy it. Le Mas des Poiriers underwent extensive renovation by the esteemed Alexandre Lafourcade. Landscape architect Dominique Lafourcade transformed the gardens, and Susan Bednar Long redesigned the interiors using Pierre Frey fabrics exclusively. Every inch is true to the spirit of Provence.

Le Mas des Poiriers is available for rent, and I am fantasizing about a dream vacation in Provence! In the meantime, I am delighted to welcome Shauna Varvel to The Glam Pad today for a virtual holiday…

Q: How did Le Mas des Poiriers receive its name, and what is the English translation?

A: Our farm, Le Mas des Poiriers, produces 60 tonnes of pears annually and the house sits adjacent to the pear orchard. The actual and original name of the house is Grange Neuve, which we use, but we have named the farm Le Mas des Poiriers, which translates as “The Pear Trees Farm House.”

Q: In what year was Le Mas des Poiriers built, and what is its history?

A: The house was built over 200 years ago as a farm house, or a “Mas.” The Rhone River divides near Avignon and the Palace of the Popes and the farm sits between the two arms of the Rhone, on an island. Thus the property’s land is very fertile and green, which is unusual in this dry and rocky region. The farm was formerly in a flood plan and had a high platform near the barn that served as a place to put the animals during during a flood.

Q: What inspired you to purchase this beautiful property?

A: Provence has been a passion of mine for many years. When my five children were young, we would rent a house for a month or so in the summertime, spending our mornings at the markets or visiting ancient Roman ruins, our afternoons by the pool, and our evenings making dinner together and eating al fresco in the garden to the tune of cicadas. We created beautiful memories as the children ran around in the Provencal sun without the distractions of everyday life, picking grapes and pears and enjoying the beauty and serenity of the region. In the summer of 2014, we rented the home that is now Le Mas des Poiriers and fell in love with it for its uniquely large structure and distinct location, being within minutes from the charming city of Avignon and yet in a secluded world of its own on a fertile island within the Rhone River. We were thrilled a year later to discover that the property had been listed for sale. We knew that we loved having 10,000 square feet in one building to fit our large family (many properties in Provence connect small buildings together to make one), the high volume in the ceilings and the flat and green land surrounding the property. We also knew that it would be a lot of work but we felt that in the end, the effort and investment would pay off in a way that it couldn’t in other properties.

Q: Please tell me about the architectural, interior, and landscaping renovations you have overseen.

A: We hired the Alexandre Lafourcade architect team for the renovation. They are the clear specialists in this region for these kinds of old houses. Through their vision we were able to re-organize the exterior, adding a new front door in a new location, tearing out ceilings and staircases to make a new beautiful front entry, add a new master bedroom, family bedroom, living room and mud room in a space that had formerly been a barn, with a dirt floor. We tore out floors, walls, all bathrooms, added antique fireplaces, new floors throughout, etc. We used finishings that would have been used traditionally in the house, like Dordogne stone floors, on the main level, reclaimed antique terracotta floors on the upper level and traditional marble cut in a Provencal style in the bathrooms. We completely changed the landscape working with the famed Provencal landscape designer, Dominique Lafourcade. We moved the swimming pool from the south side of the house to the west, the kitchen side of the house which made more sense to us. We added a tennis court adjacent to the swimming pool and Dominique designed a charming tennis court house on the east side of the court, painted a beautiful French blue. The property boasts 75 200-year-old plane trees in three allées, which were cleaned and pruned to highlight their beauty. Additionally, we added very tall cypresses to form a cypress allée coming off the center axis of the house. We added a wisteria covered arched walkway to the pool and also a beautiful rose covered archway off of the living room. The tennis court is surrounded by old olive trees, lavender and plants that would be found in the Luberon valley, giving it a distinct feeling that is different from the rest of the property. There was an old decrepit barn on the property that we renovated to house two staff apartments with a two-bedroom apartment upstairs and a one-bedroom apartment downstairs. On the east side, there is a view of Mount Ventoux and we have a large room that can be used as a rec room or a staff room.

Q: What was your vision for the beautiful interiors, and were you able to work with antiques original to the home? How did you decide to use Pierre Frey fabrics exclusively throughout?

A: The house is very large and could have been decorated and finished to feel more like a Bastide or a Villa, but I felt strongly that it should maintain the feeling of the country farmhouse that it is. I absolutely love and was inspired by the La Mirande Hotel that is just across the river from us. The La Mirande is a city hotel and is very elegant but we took inspiration from their fabrics, bathrooms and from their Chef’s Table kitchen, in the basement of the hotel. In fact, our kitchen, was built by the son of the gentleman who built the Chef’s Table kitchen years ago. We did inherit some antiques with the house and have used them in a few places. We inherited some lovely hunting dog paintings that feature in the entry and living room and two small desks that are in the living room. Additionally, I travelled between Paris, shopping on the left bank and at the weekend market, Isle sur la Sorgue in Provence and London for the Decorative Antique Fair, every few months collecting antiques and art. It took the full two years to find all of the pieces needed to fill the house.

Regarding Pierre Frey, I have long loved their traditional French country fabrics and was thrilled to be able to integrate them here. I worked with a decorator, Susan Bednar Long, with whom I have had a long professional relationship. We worked together on this project and sat in the Pierre Frey showroom in Paris for two days straight pulling fabrics and creating fabric schemes for each room. The manager of the Paris showroom, Eleonore, came to the house several times during the project and recommended the seamstress and upholsterer that Pierre Frey uses in Paris.

Q: For a guest staying at Le Mas des Poiriers, what does a typical itinerary look like for a long weekend visit? And for a week or more? What activities do you recommend?

A: We rent the entire house for approximately 4 – 5 weeks a year on a weekly basis. In a week, you could cover many of the famous Provencal villages in the area and visit some of the most popular markets. There are a myriad of sites and markets to visit in Provence. We recommend that you take it slowly and balance days out with days lounging by the pool or playing tennis, touring the gardens, sunflower fields or pear orchard at Le Mas des Poiriers attended by our thoughtful and professional staff. Gordes is a favorite among most visitors along with the other hilltop villages in the Luberon Valley such as Bonnieux, Lacoste and Menerbes. When visiting Gordes do not miss the lovely Abbey Senanque with its lavender fields, just beyond Gordes in a beautiful canyon. Avignon is just ten minutes away and is home to the Palace of the Popes, one of the largest and most important Medieval Gothic buildings in Europe, and a UNESCO Heritage Site. Pont du Gard, the highest and one of the best preserved Roman Aqueduct and another UNESCO Heritage Site, is just 30 minutes away to the west. St Remy and Eygalières are very popular market towns with markets Wednesday and Friday mornings. Arles boasts a beautiful Roman Coliseum that rivals the famous coliseum in Rome and Nimes is home of the beautiful Roman Maison Carree.

Lavender fields at Abbey Senanque

Q: Your culinary team sounds amazing, please tell me about dining at Le Mas des Poiriers.

A: Our culinary team are state of the art with experience from New York’s Park Avenue to fine French kitchens. They are on-hand to create a personalized menu for each meal during your stay, moving your dining experience from our patio to the plane tree allée, the cypress allée or by the pool for a beautiful and varied experience at each meal.

Q: How many guests can Le Mas des Poiriers accommodate at one time? I would imagine this would be an ideal venue for a destination wedding!

A: We have nine double bedrooms and have a maximum sleeping capacity of 18 guests. Le Mas des Poiriers is a perfect wedding venue and we collaborate with the incredible talented team of Matthew Robbins Design to coordinate events.

Thank you, Shauna, for sharing your enchanted home with us today! Le Mas des Poiriers is now at the top of my bucket list.

With seven bedrooms in the main house and two additional bedrooms in the guest house, Le Mas des Poiriers offers the utmost in seclusion and luxury. The property boasts a tennis court and swimming pool, and it is professionally staffed with a culinary team of two chefs and two waiters, as well as full-time housekeeping. Within easy reach of Avignon, Chateauneuf-du-Pape, Gordes, St. Remy, and Aix-en Provence, Le Mas des Poiriers is ideally situated to access all that the region has to offer, should you decide to spend a day away from the peaceful property.

Le Mas des Poiriers Vacation Rental

The property's 65 acres offers true seclusion, amidst working pear orchards, which produce six tonnes of fruit annually.

With seven bedrooms in the main house and two additional bedrooms in the guest house, Le Mas des Poiriers offers the utmost in seclusion and luxury. The property boasts a tennis court and swimming pool. The interiors, which are undergoing final touches, include Pierre Frey fabrics exclusively. Drawing from the iconic style of the nearby La Mirande hotel, every inch is true to the spirit of Provence.

The home has recently undergone extensive renovation by the esteemed Alexandre Lafourcade, with gardens overseen by Dominique Lafourcade, the famed Provencal landscape architect. The house is professionally staffed with a culinary team of two chefs and two waiters, as well as full-time housekeeping.

Within easy reach of Avignon, Chateauneuf-du-Pape, Gordes, St. Remy, and Aix-en Provence, Le Mas des Poiriers is ideally situated to access all that the region has to offer, should you decide to spend a day away from the peaceful property.

Accommodations Le Mas des Poiriers is an 18th century farm house in Provence, located near the Medieval city of Avignon on Isle de la Motte.

Overview

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Date Picker: Guest

Travel Dates

Bedrooms

Min. Night Stay

Currency:Currency:

Now to Dec 31, 2019 97

9,008

/per night

Security Deposit: €10,000 + APA €10,000 (Advance Provisional Allowance) needed for the cost of food and drinks.

Minimum Stay: 7 Nights. Minimum night stay may vary by villa. Please contact a villa specialist to confirm.

Important! Non-USD rates above based on approximate currency conversion. Please confirm rate and currency with your Villa Specialist at time of booking.

Main House

7 Double bedrooms

Large Dining Room with seating for 18

Living Room

Family Room

Kitchen with Family Dining Area

Mud Room

Orangerie with Herve Baume dining table to seat 22

Gym

TV Room

Guest House

2 Queen bedrooms

Sitting Room

Provence Travel Guide

Understated Elegance

Provence, located in the south of France, is one of France’s most beautiful provinces. It’s perhaps most famous for its striking, fragrant lavender fields which bloom in early summer. But you don’t have to time your visit to the lavender; the region offers plenty more to see and do.

The delightful city of Aix-en-Provence is a highlight in the region with its Cours Mirabeau, a miniature Champs-Elysees, which is alive with restaurants and shops. On the coast of Provence you’ll find the fishing village of Cassis, where you can take a boat tour of the harbor. And further west you’ll find Marseille, France’s oldest city and an important trading port throughout history.

Other notable destinations include the Roman city of Arles, the city of Avignon with its famous medieval bridge, the Pont d’Avignon, and Les Baux de Provence, a fortified hilltop village. And throughout your Provence villa vacation, you can enjoy regional produce like olives and truffles, as well as famous Provençal dishes such as bouillabaisse and boeuf en daube, which, like Provence, are meant to be savored.

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