#rent luxury cars in london

[aslanhazzan]

Choosing a luxury car rental in London was the best decision! The seamless process and the sheer luxury of the car added an extra layer of prestige to my London adventure. An absolute must-try for those seeking sophistication

[chrispaulsrocks]

Opting for a luxury car rental in London was a game-changer! The seamless process and the sheer elegance of the car transformed my travel experience. If you're in London and want to explore in style, this is the way to do it

[cressidagrey]

The Queen of Romantasy and the Race Car Prince - Chapter 10

Pairing: Lando Norris x Elizabeth "Lizzie" Treshton (Original Character)

Summary:

Elizabeth Treshton—bestselling romantasy author, queen of fae heartbreak, and sworn devotee of a carefully structured routine—never expected her service dog to abandon protocol and diagnose a Formula 1 driver with something. But that’s exactly what happens when Mara the wonder-dog ditches Lizzie’s side to aggressively alert to none other than Lando Norris in the middle of a coffee shop.

Warnings and Notes: 

Mention of epilepsy and service animals. I don't myself suffer from epilepsy, so I asked my IRL friend, who thankfully was nice enough to let me ask her all the questions I could come up with. The rest I asked Reddit. So everything that's wrong...that's totally my fault and not on purpose.

As always big thanks to @llirawolf , who listens to me ramble

Lizzie stepped out of her building and stopped dead in her tracks.

Parked at the curb, looking obnoxiously shiny and way too clean, was a brand-new Range Rover. Like, brand new. As in, it still had that fresh-off-the-lot aura and possibly even the smell.

She took a few steps closer, her eyes wide in disbelief. It was...quite something. The shiny silver paint glittered in the afternoon sun, and the rims looked expensive, too expensive. Like, the kind of expensive that made her cringe a little, wondering just how much money Lando had spent on this.

Lando was leaning against the hood, hands in his pockets, looking way too pleased with himself. He grinned as soon as he saw her. “Morning.”

Lizzie narrowed her eyes. “Tell me that’s a rental.”

Lando’s grin widened. “It’s not.”

Lizzie felt like banging her head against a wall. Why, oh why, did he have to be so stupidly rich? "You bought it, didn't you?" she asked, her voice a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

Lando opened the passenger door for her, completely unbothered. “You said you needed a four-seater.”

Lizzie looked at him, then at the car, then back at him. “So your solution was to buy a whole Range Rover??”

 “I needed one,” Lando said simply.

Lizzie scoffed, hauling Mara’s travel bag over her shoulder as the Labrador hopped into the backseat. “You did not need one. You just didn’t want to admit you didn’t have a single practical car.”

Lando shrugged, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. "It's a good car. Safe, reliable, plenty of space for Mara."

Lizzie crossed her arms, trying to hold back a sigh. This man was absolutely maddening. "And you couldn't have rented one, like a normal person?"

Lando raised an eyebrow, a smirk on his lips. "Where's the fun in that?" He was clearly enjoying her reaction, the bastard.

Lizzie glanced around the interior as she got in. The thing was so pristine it didn’t even look lived in. “How long have you had this?”

Lando started the engine, the sound of the purring engine filling the air. "Just bought it yesterday."

Lizzie gaped at him. “You’re ridiculous.”

Lando turned to her, smirking. “Yeah? And?”

Lizzie shook her head, unable to stop smiling. “It’s kinda endearing.”

Lando wiggled his eyebrows. “I knew it.”

Lizzie rolled her eyes, but her cheeks were warm as she settled into the definitely-not-rented passenger seat of Lando’s definitely-bought-on-a-whim Range Rover.

"Besides, now I have a car to chauffeur you and Mara around," Lando said proudly.

Lizzie bit back a laugh. "Oh, so now you're my chauffeur?"

Lando glanced over, grinning. "Who else can say they have a F1 driver as their personal chauffeur?"

Lizzie rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a smile. "Very witty."

She settled back into her seat, enjoying the feeling of the luxurious leather against her skin. "So, where to, chauffeur?"

"London," Lando answered easily. "I got us a hotel near Hyde Park. You know, for Mara."

"That was....really thoughtful," she conceded.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Of course it was. I'm thoughtful. I'm thoughtful and rich and handsome." He winked at her.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow. "You sure you didn't get the penthouse suite, too?" she asked, only half-joking.

Lando merely shrugged, not even trying to deny it. "Only the best for my girls."

The casual way he said it, referring to her as 'my girls' sent a flurry of warm, fuzzy feelings swirling around in her chest. 

He had indeed gone for the Penthouse. At a hotel that she was pretty sure was fancier than even the ones she got when she was on her usual reading journeys.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Lizzie said, trying and failing to sound exasperated.

Lando gave her a lopsided smile, clearly enjoying himself. "Yeah, but you like me anyway."

"I love you," she blurted out.

The air in the room suddenly felt charged. Lando’s eyes flicked to her, his expression softening, the smirk gone.

He reached out, his fingers brushing against hers. “You do?” he asked, his voice low and quiet.

Lizzie held his gaze, her heart pounding. "Of course I do," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "You're infuriating, and extravagant, and impossible, but I love you anyway."

Lando's hand closed around hers, and he lifted it, brushing his lips against her knuckles. "Good," he murmured. "Because I love you, too."

Lizzie had faced a lot of nerve-wracking moments in her life.

The first time she had to pitch her book to an editor.

The first time she stood in front of a crowd for a live reading.

The time she accidentally ended up sitting next to a literal royal at a publishing gala and tried very hard to act normal about it.

But somehow, meeting Lando’s best friend felt just as intimidating.

It wasn’t that she thought Max Fewtrell would be mean—Still, she didn’t have much time to overthink it before Lando knocked on the apartment door.

Max opened it a second later, and his eyes barely even landed on her before immediately locking onto Mara—who, because she was the world’s most dramatic dog, was proudly wearing her Ferrari bandana.

Max blinked.

Then he burst out laughing.

“Mate.” His voice was filled with delight. “You were not joking when you said your girlfriend is a Ferrari fan. How is that going for you, McLaren Driver?"

Lando rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Ha ha, very funny," he said, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone.

Max's gaze shifted to Lizzie, and his laughter subsided into a warm smile. "You must be Lizzie, then? I'm Max Fewtrell. This is already isso much better than I expected,” he said as he closed the door behind them.

Lizzie smiled nervously, trying to ignore the way her palms suddenly felt sweaty. “Yeah, that’s me.”

Max stepped forward, pulling her into a friendly hug. “It’s great to finally meet the woman that’s putting up with Lando's bullshit.”

From the couch, a woman with dark blonde  hair—Pietra, Max’s girlfriend, presumably—laughed. “Oh, this is already fun.”

Lando gave them both a mock glare. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, his arm sliding automatically around Lizzie's waist.

Max threw him a smirk. "Don't act like you're not a handful, mate."

Lizzie leaned into Lando's side, feeling a little more at ease. It was somewhat reassuring to know that Lando's friends found his antics just as endearing as she did.

Pietra jumped up from the couch, walking over and pulling Lizzie into a tight hug. "Ignore those two. It's wonderful to meet you! Lando has talked a lot about you."

"Yeah, especially since he finally managed to ask you out," Max said drily.

Lando shot Max a glare, which only made the latter smirk wider.

"Only took him three months." Max added.

But before Lando could change the subject, Lizzie turned to him with a sudden realization.

“Wait,” she said, narrowing her eyes. "That wasn't the first time you were in that cafe?"

Lando stiffened. “Uh—”

Max let out a noise of excitement. “Oh my God, you haven’t told her?”

“Told me what?” Lizzie demanded.

Pietra grinned, leaning forward like this was the best entertainment she’d seen all week.

“Mate, three months,” Max announced, grinning. “He sat in that café for three months just staring at you like some lovesick teenager.”

Lizzie’s jaw dropped.

She turned to Lando. “You did not.”

Lando rubbed a hand over his face, groaning. “I hate you, Max.”

But Max was thrilled. “Oh, he did. He'd go there to buy his aily coffee even when he could have gotten that at the MTC and then he bought overpriced pastries that he pawned off to unsuspecting McLaren Engineers."

Lando shot Max a withering look. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

Max shrugged, completely unapologetic. "What can I say? It was hilarious to watch.”

Lando, red-faced and clearly miserable, mumbled, “I was going to say something. Eventually."

Max snorted. “Not in this century, mate.”

Lizzie bit her lip, trying to fight her grin. She reached out, threading her fingers through Lando’s and squeezing his hand.

“Three months, huh?” she said, looking at him fondly. “You really liked me.”

Lando sighed, resigned to his fate.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I really did.”

[moody-alcoholic]

The Missing Piece

Chapter 8- Shopping

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. 2.6k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: mentions of bad family dynamic/ relationship (not reader).

100% had this image in my head when I was writing the marriage scene.

Previous parts - masterlist - next

AO3

Enjoy <3

The next morning over breakfast Simon insists Johnny go with you while you run errands. You don’t complain it’s nice to spend some time with him, you invite Simon along but he said he has some work to catch up with. You take a taxi back to your place and Johnny hangs out in the living room as you take a shower and change. 

“What errands do you need to do?” Johnny calls as you throw some clothes and pyjamas  into a backpack. You need to remember to take this to their place. 

“I need to get keys cut, and I need to go to Lush.” You pause trying to think of the other things, maybe you should have written it down. 

“Oh I need new bedding.” You walk out throwing the bag by the door.

“You okay with us having keys to your place?” He asks.

“Yeah I don’t mind, besides if I’m being honest your place is way nicer then mine.” You say. “But hey if you ever get stuck on the other side of London you’ve got a place to crash.” Johnny chuckles as you leave the flat to get a taxi. You find a key cutters first expecting it to take a few hours but it was done in a few minutes. 

“There you go.” You say passing one of the copies to Johnny.

“Thanks.” He says attaching to his keys.

“Oh I usually rent my place out while I’m working, it’s good for the extra income.” You explain.

“The army really paying you that little?” He asks, you chuckle.

“Not like that, I put all the money in savings, for a mortgage one day or a nice big holiday.” You explain.

“Where would you go?” Johnny asks as you make your way across the shopping centre. 

“I don’t know, I’d love to go to Asia, Japan, Korea, China. Or travel round Europe. I’d love to go to Iceland.” You stop yourself before you mention every country on the planet. You look up at him he’s smiling you grab his hand lacing your fingers with his. 

“Where would you go?” You ask him. 

“Simon’s always talked about taking one of those super luxurious resorts in the Caribbean.” Johnny said. 

“Oh the ones with the crystal blue waters and white sand beaches?” You say. 

“Those are the ones.” He says chuckling. Somehow you couldn't imagine Simon laid out on a sun lounger relaxing, you expected him to be somewhere cold where he could wrap up and be inside all day. You walk into Lush letting go of Johnny so you get the list up on your phone. When you look back up he’s gone. You look around, you took your eyes off him for two seconds, you walk round the display and see him talking to one of the employees, who’s showing him a bottle of something.  

“Look for your muscles.” He says holding up a pot. You smile at him walking over. The woman explains more about it as Johnny listens, he seems invested so you leave him to go grab the few things you need meeting him at the till. 

“What’s that?” He asks picking up a bottle after the lady had scanned it. 

“Moisturiser.” I say looking at it, you hear the car reader beep. 

“Would you like a receipt?” The lady asks. 

“Johnny.” You protest turning to look at him chuckling, he wraps his arm round your shoulder. You nod at the woman taking the receipt. You’ll have to pay him back later.

“Sorry, I’m under strict orders.” He says leading you out the store. God damn it Simon. You head to get some lunch which you insist on paying for since he pulled that stunt, you don’t even let him near the counter. You bring the food over sitting down.

“When did you and Simon get married?” You ask, Johnny smiles. 

“I’d been trying to convince Simon for months, he kept pushing it, there was always a mission always something going on.” Johnny stops for a second pouring a sugar packet in his coffee. “I got shot, woke up in hospital 3 days later the first thing Simon asked was when we could get married. I’m pretty sure if I had left it up to him he would have wheeled me to the hospital chapel to get married right there and then.” You chuckle opening the wrapping round the sandwich.

“Anyway I insisted we get married in Scotland, there’s the beautiful little church my grandparents got married in. Simon planned the whole thing, flowers, suits even rented a house in the highlands for the honeymoon. He may not seem like it on the surface but he’s really a hopeless romantic.” You smile at him. 

“That’s really sweet. Sorry about you getting shot though.” You say. 

“Don’t worry about it I’m still here that’s all that matters.” He says biting into his sandwich. You try to picture it in your mind Johnny and Simon getting married, you would have to remind yourself to ask to see a picture, if they had any. You’re about to ask Johnny about the honeymoon when you hear someone call your name. You turn to look. It’s Chloe walking over to you with a baby in a stroller. 

“Oh thank God it is you.” She says stopping the stroller next to you, you look down wide eyed at the baby sucking on its dummy. 

“Congratulations?” You say shaking your head at her. 

“My sisters visiting, she’s wondered off somewhere and I need to pee so bad can you just watch her for a second?” Chloe asks dropping bags by the stroller. 

“Babies hate me.” You reply. 

“Two seconds I’ll be back,” Chloe says running off. You look over at Johnny then back down to the baby who’s just blinking at you. 

“She’s cute.” Johnny says. 

“Chloe or the baby?” You ask looking at him. 

“The baby.” Johnny chuckles. You reach out with your finger letting her grip it with her hand, she is cute. You’re cooing at her when Chloe comes back moving the stroller to sit in the empty chair next to you. 

“Christ, you have no idea how stressed out I am. She didn’t even warn us she was coming just showed up yesterday. Now my mum is insisting on throwing this massive party for her and Jack and the other boys. You have to come by the way please I cannot be around that many American generals and stay sane. At least if you’re there my mum will go easy on me you know she likes you.” Chloe is talking at a million miles an hour as she reaches over picking up your tea taking a sip. 

“Your mum only likes me cos I joined the army. And Jacks not a general he’s a lieutenant at best.” You remind her. “Anyway, Chloe this is Johnny.” You say introducing him. Chloe looks up at him smiling and putting her hand out so he can shake it. 

“Holy shit you are hot. Are you army too?” She says. Johnny goes to open his mouth but Chloe cuts him off.

“Anyway he’s been promoted so he’s a big-shot now mum want’s to celebrate had dad dig out all his old contacts, now it’s a whole thing, she’s already hired the waitstaff.” She says. 

“You don’t go from lieutenant to general he’s probably just a captain.” You say.

“See you know this stuff so much better then me please come I’m begging you.” She says gripping your hands.

“I’m on leave, last time I came to your family's do I felt like I was back at work.”

“This one is so informal. I promise, bring Johnny.” She says gesturing at him. “I’ll even let you both fuck in my old room if you get bored.” You almost choke on your tea looking up at Johnny who has the cheekiest grin on his face. You feel like he would take that opportunity if only he knew how serious Chloe was being. you go to reply when her phone starts ringing, she picks it up. 

“Yeah, where did you go?” She asks as you look at Johnny. You mouth ‘sorry’ at him he just chuckles and goes back to his sandwich. 

“Look I’ll meet you outside Primark.” Chloe says standing up and hanging up the phone.      

“Sorry got to go it was nice to meet you Johnny, my mum will have already sent the invite.” She says winking at him as she picks up her bags and leaves. 

“I am so sorry she’s a handful I know.” Your cheeks turning red from embarrassment.

“It’s okay, is she the one who filmed that lovely video?” Johnny asked chuckling. Oh God. You nod your cheeks burning. 

“Well I commend her photography skills.” He says.

“Thanks, I’ll let her know.” You say sipping on the tea trying to quell your nerves. You tell Johnny about how you med in med school and worked together until you left to join the military. Most of her family married American’s and they rarely visit so it’s always a big thing. Chloe is the only one in the family who has never shown any interest in the military and her mum resents her for that.

“How many siblings does she have?” He asks.

“3, 2 brothers and a sister. The baby is her sister-in-law’s. She’s married to her brother Mark who’s SAS by the way. Her sister married Jack, who’s apparently climbing through the ranks right now.” 

“Maybe we should go to the party?” Johnny says. You scoff.

“Trust me you do not want to go, her parents are so posh, like own a mansion in Hampstead and Mayfair posh, like spend the summers in the Riviera and the winters in Switzerland.” You explain. Johnny just laughs. 

“I think it would be fun.” He says. You shake your head. 

“Her mum only likes me cos I’m in the military, it’s like a right of passage in that house, she’d have a field day with you and Simon.” You think back to the time’s you’ve been to their other party's it almost felt like you were attending a work do. Maybe you were going to have to fish out your formal uniform, that you were not looking forward too. 

“So everyone is military?” He asks with a raised eyebrow. You nod finishing your tea. 

“Apart from Chloe of course.” 

“How did she react when you joined.” 

“She was so angry, thought I would get corrupted by the army like her family was.” You sigh finishing your tea. 

“Ah yes the infamous brain washing. I still remember the video.” He says teasing you.

“I heard they only give it to the royal marines now.” You joke back.

“Yeah with a free packet of crayons.” He says laughing. You smile back at him, he has that cheeky grin on his face.

“We’re not going.” You say putting the trash on a plate. His smile grows bigger. You shake your head getting up. You finish of the rest of your errands getting new bedding and you manage to convince Johnny to wait outside while you get new underwear. 

He spends the taxi ride back to your flat winking at you and trying to peak a look in your back. “Don’t worry you’ll get to see them eventually.” You say to him getting out the taxi to quickly run upstairs. When you open your door there’s a letter on the floor. You can already tell it’s from Chloe’s or at least her family. Her mum sure moves quickly. You pick it up dumping the shopping bags off and picking up your overnight bag. You turn to hear Johnny come up the steps behind you.

“I thought you were holding the taxi?” He takes the letter out your hand.

“Hey!” You protest locking your door. He’s already opening it heading back down the steps.

“Dear sergeant, very posh.” He teases. 

“Johnny.” You protest trying to reach out and grab it but he hold it just out your reach. 

“You are cordially invited to attend a soirée on the 14th of June.” Johnny is doing his best posh British accent. “Look at this part, Black tie, officer formals. Ooo auction in aid of the Royal British Legion.” You stop in the hall crossing your arms. He looks back at you and chuckles. 

“We’re not going.” Johnny laughs picking up your over night bag and handing you the invitation. 

“I think we’re going.” He says winking at you.

——————————

When you get back to their flat you see Simon still sat at the table with a stack of paperwork by his side. 

“Christ Si did Price send more over?” Johnny says.

“Nope, this is all last months.” He says closing whatever he was working on. 

“Guess what happened to us today?” Johnny says all excited as he puts the invite down for Simon to see. 

“We’re not going.” You say coming over to try and grab it. This time it’s Simon that’s too quick for you. Simon looks over it then passes it to you and rubs his forehead.

“We’re going.” He says.

“Simon!” You say annoyed, Johnny starts laughing. 

“We’re going because Price has been invited which mean I’ve been invited, which means Johnny gets to suffer along with us.” Simon says.

“What about Gaz?” Johnny asks. 

“Training, gets a free pass.” 

“Well you boys have fun, I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back.” You say putting the invite down and going over to the sofa. 

“Hey, you’re invited too.” Johnny says. 

“Oh yes but I will politely decline on this occasion, maybe next time.” You turn to look over at them. 

“What you’re not even going to go for Chloe?” Johnny asks. Oof, there’s that pang of guilt. Like a hot rod straight through the chest. You sigh.

“Fine! But I’m going for Chloe.” You say frustrated.  

“Who’s Chloe?” Simon asks. 

“The one who sent us the lovely video and pictures.” Johnny says. You lie back on the sofa trying to ignore the fact Johnny bought it up again.

“She’s the daughter of the host.” You say. Johnny comes over to the sofa sitting next to you. You cross your arms pulling your legs away from him. “How did your boss get an invite anyway?”

“With the amount of people he knows.” Johnny says raising an eyebrow. You shake your head. 

“What?” He says chuckling. 

“I have to buy a new dress now.” You say huffing. 

“Oh yeah, need help picking one out?” Johnny winks. 

“Simon can help.” You say back. Johnny pouts at you. 

“I bet I could find a pretty blue dress to go with my pretty blue suit.” Johnny says leaning closer to you. 

“Maybe I want to wear a red dress.” You say smiling at him. 

“Even better.” Johnny says his hands working their way up your legs. Before you can reply he’s scooped you up on his lap. 

“Johnny!” You protest, but you don’t fight him instead wrapping your hands round his neck looking down at his face. Why does he always have such a cheeky grin. You lean down and kiss him, his hand finding it’s way up your top. 

“If you two are going to have sex can you go in the bedroom, I have to get all this finished by 5.” Simon says, you pull way from Johnny, smiling. 

“Too bad, later.” You promise. Johnny pouts again, you get off his knee leaning up against him as he reaches for the TV remote.

“Do you really have a blue suit?” You ask. 

“Yeah, a red one too.” He says, winking.

“You should wear a kilt, Chloe would get a kick out of that.” 

“Maybe I will.” He says as he kisses the top of your head.  

Next

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[maxispixels]

HANDPICKED

PART ONE.

Hobie Brown x GN!Reader

1.6k words

You work in a flower shop in 70s London. Hobie is being a menace. Slowburn? Probably will be around 10 parts. Strangers to reluctant acquaintances to friends to something more. Maybe a lil' messy?

Last time I wrote something like this was almost 10 years ago and it was in another language. Forgive whatever happens next. I have no idea what's going on.

Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five. Part six. Part seven. Part eight. Part nine. Part ten. Part eleven. Part twelve.

“Thank you, sweetheart, here you go,” the old lady said, handing you a slightly crumpled bill. You quickly counted the change and passed it back into her outstretched hand. “Have a nice day!” You chirped, flashing her your well-practiced customer-service smile. She gave you a small nod and made her way out of the shop, the little bell above the door jingling.

You didn’t know flower shops could have regular customers before you worked there, but apparently, some people bought fresh flowers every week or so. To you, it felt like an unimaginable luxury. Your little paycheck barely covered rent, and you could only dream of having enough money to regularly splurge on daisies to brighten up your dingy ol’ flat. Still, the thought was nice.

You sighed softly and sat down on the stool behind the counter, your eyes scanning the shop. You had gotten used to the sweet smell of flowers and freshly cut grass. The scents blended together, but you'd learned to recognise them. Today, the notes of the lilies you were particularly fond of tickled your nostrils, like a delicacy you appreciated greatly. The warm orange light, rare in this rather rainy season - although all seasons were rainy in London - burst across the old waxed floor from the shop front windows, highlighting specks of dust like golden flecks. Outside, you could see passers-by, hurried or idle, cars, and occasionally a tall red bus crossed your view. The faint crackle of the radio competed with distant honking and the clatter of footsteps on cobblestone. 

Your eyes fell on a vase of daffodils not far from the counter, the golden light making them shine with unexpected brilliance. For a moment suspended in time, yellow became your favourite colour. 

You grabbed your notebook from under the shelf in front of your knees and began scribbling the daffodils. You had no artistic pretensions, but you enjoyed sketching the flowers, finding the activity relaxing and filling the moments of nothingness that stretched out between each customer. It gave you something to do on quiet afternoons like this one.

Just as you were adding some watercolors in, the bell above the door jingled again, startling you. The pleasant sound was followed by the abrasive thud of combat boots on the old wooden floor. You cringed at the noise and looked up, expecting to see another cheerful retiree or a nervous bloke buying an apology bouquet. Instead, you saw him.

Ridiculously tall. That was your first thought. Your second was: piercings. Lots of them. His face glinted under the warm sunlight. It was hard not to stare. He was wearing a band tee, the sleeves and neckline ripped off, layering over some kinds of fishnet thing that covered his arms, jeans that looked like they’d been through a shredder, and a leather belt so worn that the studs seemed to be holding it together by sheer willpower. Chains and eyelets and safety pins and anything and everything silverware stuck to him like he was some kind of magnet. And magnetic he was since he had definitely pulled all of your attention in.

You cleared your throat and forced a small smile, your fingers holding onto the edge of the counter almost to stabilize yourself. “Good afternoon. Can I help you?”

He gave a small nod. “‘Ello.” His voice was low, his accent so thick even you could pick on it, sounding almost like a caricature. He didn’t elaborate and started wandering around the shop, browsing. You stood there awkwardly, unsure if you should say anything else. He looked so incredibly calm there.

You were trying not to stare, but fuck, you wanted to. He looked so out of place among the delicate roses and sunflowers that it was almost comical. You pretended to adjust a ribbon on the counter while stealing glances at him. When he stopped in front of a display of pink and red roses, you couldn’t resist speaking up. 

“These are really popular with the ladies,” you offered, your customer-service smile now bordering on nervous. 

“Not for a lady. Not really,” he replied, examining the flower over in his hand like he never held one before, with surprising gentleness, scared he might crush it in a single moment of inattention. 

You blinked, unsure how to respond. Silence stretched between you. If Rose, the owner of the shop and your manager, had been there, she’d have rolled her eyes at your lack of salesmanship.

“I’ll take ‘em,” he said suddenly, breaking the tension.

You let out a relieved breath you didn't know you were holding as you immediately move into action, going to the counter and grabbing some craft wrapper for the flowers. 

“D’ya have another colour?” 

You hummed. “Sure, I just gotta check in the back.” You informed him as you went to rummage around in the back of the shop, to find him several options of coloured paper to wrap his bouquet in. When you returned a few minutes later, something seemed strange. As you placed the selection on the counter, he was looking at the wall.

 “Oi, I’m sorry, I’ve changed ma’ mind. Maybe next time darlin’.” He turned on his heels. You paused. Something was off, the air was weird. 

“Wait!” You call as you notice a couple of daffodils missing. You’d know, you were sketching them a second ago. He ignored you, and you quickly stepped around the counter, grabbing him. The leather of his jacket was smooth and cold under your fingers, and you instantly regretted the move. 

“Not so fast!” You were surprised at your own tone, too brave for your own good.

“Let me check your bag.” You asked, your confidence crumbling a little more with each syllable. What if you were wrong? What if he hadn’t taken anything and you’d just accused this intimidating stranger of stealing? It seemed to amuse him more than anything else. He cocked an eyebrow, his lip curling slightly as he shifted his weight. 

“Y’wot, now?” he asked, his tone halfway between annoyed and amused, crossing his arms.

“Let me check your bag.” You repeated with false assurance, and he rolled his eyes. Surprisingly, he did. You looked inside, but no flower there. Cables, tools, weird stuff, but no flowers. Your shoulders drooped, sheepish as you muttered an apology. You wish you could have combusted on the spot, or buried yourself deep underground as you feel the heat in your cheeks. He remained silent for a moment, as if to let you suffer in your embarrassment a minute longer. 

“D’ya always charm yer customers by accusin’ ‘em of theft, or am I just special?” He smirked down at you, and you felt he took a malicious pleasure in seeing you so embarrassed. You let go of his arms and apologized again, sending him on his way. You wanted the floor to just open up and swallow you right then and there. Of course, there wasn’t anything in his bag. Why did you think he’d be stupid enough to actually steal in front of your face?

He finally turned around to leave, and that was when you noticed the yellow petals poking from underneath his vest. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, nor the sheer audacity of that man. You grabbed him again, too easily reaching for a bloke that could easily break you in half.

“Hey!” you scolded again, and he sighed as he turned back. “Wot again? Already miss me? I haven’t even bloody left yet.”

You swallowed hard, your fingers gripping his vest tighter. “You— I saw the flowers inside your vest, don’t lie! And give them back!”

He tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Y’wot now, lil’ bird? A cop or som’thin’?”

“I could call them,” you shot back, feeling your confidence falter under his sharp gaze. “Stealing is illegal, y’know?”

He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue. “Right, right.”

You let go of his jacket, and he pulled out the daffodils, their stems a little crumpled. For a second, he looked down at them like they were the most precious thing in the world. His hand lingered, and you thought he might refuse.

“Y’know, if I pinch these flowers, they’ll prolly come afte’ me harde’ than they did the bloke who pinched the Crown Jewels. Priorities, right?”

You frowned, convinced now he was just trying to distract you. “You know, most people just buy flowers. It’s this amazing thing where you hand over money and—”

“Fascinatin' concept,” he interrupted. “Truly groundbreaking. But I’m more of a barter system guy. How ‘bout a joke in exchange for the daffodils?”

“No.”

“Tough crowd.”

Finally, he handed them over, and for another split second, you almost pitied him. The way he looked at the flowers, his eyes so downcast, it felt… complicated. But before you could say anything, he stepped toward the door.

“Guess I’ll see you around,” he smiled, mock innocence plastered on his face.

You watched through the window as he walked away, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Then, it hit you. The regret, the overthinking. Have you been too harsh? Not enough? Surely, that was the right thing…right? You had stopped a petty thief… It was about principles, after all. Plus, flowers were a luxury. You might’ve closed your eyes on canned food or diapers, but no one needs daffodils to survive. What kind of people steal flowers anyway?

“Punk…” You muttered to yourself.

You still had a good hour before closing time. You glanced at your sketchbook, then grabbed your pencils, but instead of finishing the flowers, you started sketching something else.

Someone else.

Part two.

I'm not new to tumblr but new to posting, especially writings so don't hesitate to tell me if I'm not following some unwritten rules or something! 🫶🫶 Also this wasn't proof read so- anyway.

[muiitoloko]

Can we have a part two of "My, Yours"?

Title: Advantage.

Summary: Arthur finally gets what he always dreamed of and Guinevere gains some advantages.

Pairing: Harry Hart (Kingsman) × Fem! Reader

Warnings: Obscenity.

Author's Notes: I missed writing about Harry Hart.

First, Second and Third here.

As Harry drove you back to his car, the anticipation in the air was palpable, your heart racing with excitement at the thought of what was to come. The date had been magical, filled with laughter, good food, and meaningful conversation, and you couldn't wait to continue the evening with Harry by your side.

As you settled into the plush leather seats of the BMW, Harry glanced over at you with a smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, Guinevere," he began, his voice low and husky with desire. "I have a proposition for you."

You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you waited for him to continue. "Oh? And what might that be, Arthur?" you asked teasingly, your heart pounding in your chest at the possibilities.

Harry's smile widened at your playful tone, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before he spoke. "Well, my dear Guinevere," he said smoothly, his voice laced with charm. "I could take you back to your house and end our evening here, or... I could take you to a fancy fucking hotel with a huge hot tub that I've already prepared for us and continue our date there. What do you say?"

Your heart leaped with excitement at the thought of continuing the evening with Harry in a luxurious hotel, the promise of passion and romance beckoning you like a siren's call. "Oh, Harry," you breathed, your voice filled with anticipation. "I would love nothing more than to continue our date at the hotel."

Harry's smile widened into a grin, his eyes twinkling with excitement as he shifted gears and started driving towards the hotel. "Excellent choice, my Guinevere," he replied warmly, his voice filled with satisfaction. "I promise you won't regret it."

As the car sped through the streets of London, your excitement grew with each passing moment, the anticipation building to a fever pitch as you neared the hotel. When you finally arrived, Harry helped you out of the car with a gallant flourish, his hand warm and reassuring in yours as he led you inside.

The hotel lobby was opulent and grand, with marble floors and crystal chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow over everything. Harry guided you to the reception desk with a confident stride, his charm and charisma evident as he checked you both in with a smile.

Once you had your keys in hand, Harry led you to the elevator, his hand resting possessively on the small of your back as he guided you inside. As the doors closed behind you, he pressed the button for the top floor, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leaned in close to whisper in your ear.

"Get ready, Guinevere," he murmured softly, his breath warm against your skin. "Tonight is going to be a night you'll never forget."

Your heart raced at his words, the promise of what was to come sending a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. With a smile, you leaned into Harry's touch, your body buzzing with anticipation as the elevator ascended towards the top floor of the hotel.

As the elevator came to a stop, Harry reluctantly pulled away from you, his hand sliding down to interlace with yours as he led you out into the hallway. With a confident stride, he made his way to the hotel room he had rented for the evening, his heart pounding in his chest with every step.

Opening the door to the room, Harry ushered you inside with a gentle hand, his eyes shining with desire as he drank in the sight of you standing before him. "Welcome to our sanctuary, Guinevere," he murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Where all our dreams come true."

You smiled up at Harry, your heart swelling with love and desire as you took in the luxurious surroundings of the hotel room. "It's perfect, Harry," you whispered softly, your voice tinged with excitement. "Thank you for making this night so special."

Harry's smile widened at your words, his heart overflowing with love and adoration for you. "Anything for you, my dear Guinevere," he replied tenderly, his voice filled with sincerity. "Now, shall we make ourselves comfortable?"

With that, Harry took your hand in his and led you over to the plush king-sized bed, his eyes burning with desire as he looked down at you. "I want you, Guinevere," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with need. "More than anything in this world."

You nodded in agreement, your own desire burning bright as you reached up to cup Harry's face in your hands. "I want you too, Harry," you whispered softly, your voice filled with longing. "Take me, make me yours."

Harry's heart soared at your words, his desire reaching a fever pitch as he leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. Lost in the heat of the moment, he pressed his body against yours, his hands roaming over your curves with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

With practiced skill, Harry began to undress you, his movements confident and assured as he stripped away your clothes one by one. As each piece of fabric fell away, he reveled in the sight of your naked body before him, his desire burning bright as he took in every curve and contour.

Finally, when you stood before him completely bare, Harry couldn't contain his desire any longer. With a hungry gaze, he pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a fierce embrace as he lowered you down onto the bed.

Harry hovered over you, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of your naked body before him, absolutely divine. He watched as a butterfly landed delicately on your breast, its wings fluttering against your skin, but Harry was having none of it. With a hungry gaze, he leaned down and took the butterfly's place, his lips finding your nipple with a gentle suck.

You gasped at the sensation, a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body as Harry played with your other breast, his hand working wonders as he teased and tantalized you. The feeling of his warm mouth against your skin was almost too much to bear, but you craved more, needing him closer, deeper.

But Harry moved away, a string of saliva connecting his mouth to your breast as he looked into your eyes with a fierce intensity. Slowly, he began to open his pants, his gaze never leaving yours as he silently communicated his desires to you. You understood his unspoken message, the silent agreement passing between you as you nodded in response.

Harry then stopped as he took the belt off his pants, his gaze locking with yours as he hesitated for just a moment. "Guinevere," he began softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I... I don't like using condoms. But I brought some just in case... I mean, I'm clean, and I believe you are too, but..."

You nodded understandingly, cutting off his rambling with a reassuring smile. "Harry, it's okay," you assured him gently, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "I trust you. And I don't want you to use a condom either. I want to feel you completely, to be one with you in every way possible."

Harry's heart swelled with love and gratitude at your words, his eyes shining with emotion as he reached out to cup your face in his hands. "You're perfect, Guinevere," he whispered softly, his voice filled with awe. "My perfect girl."

Impatiently, you helped him take off his suit and underwear, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of him fully exposed. He was big and thick, much larger than you had anticipated, and you couldn't help but wonder if you would be able to take him completely.

But as Harry's eyes met yours, all doubts melted away, replaced by a fierce determination to please him in every way possible. With a confident smile, you reached out to touch him, your fingers trailing down his length with a gentle touch.

Harry let out a low growl of desire at your touch, his arousal evident in the way he hardened beneath your fingertips. "Guinevere," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with need. "I want you. Now."

With a nod, you shifted on the bed, positioning yourself so that you were ready to receive him. As Harry positioned himself between your legs, a surge of anticipation washed over you, your heart pounding in your chest as you eagerly awaited his touch. But instead of moving to enter you like you expected, Harry surprised you by grabbing your legs and holding them wider for him, his intent clear.

You gasped in surprise, a whimper escaping your lips as you realized what Harry intended to do. "No, Arthur," you whimpered softly, your voice tinged with desperation. "I want you inside me... please..."

But Harry's expression remained firm, his eyes locking with yours as he confidently explained his intentions. "Guinevere," he murmured softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "Not all women are able to take me completely. It's rare, in fact, to find someone who can take me without feeling pain."

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin as he continued. "I don't want you to feel any pain, my dear," he whispered softly, his voice tinged with concern. "So I have to make sure that you're perfectly prepared for me, wet enough to receive me without discomfort."

With that, Harry lowered his head between your legs, his tongue flicking out to tease your sensitive flesh with gentle strokes. You gasped at the sensation, a shiver of pleasure coursing through your body as he worked wonders with his skilled tongue.

You squirmed beneath Harry's ministrations, unable to contain the moans of pleasure that escaped your lips as he worked wonders with his skilled tongue. Gripping the sheets tightly in your hands, you arched your back, offering yourself completely to his touch.

"Fuck, Harry," you gasped breathlessly, your voice filled with need and desire. "You're so good at this... a real pussy eater..."

Harry's only response was a low growl of desire, his mouth working tirelessly to bring you to the brink of ecstasy. He seemed completely focused on pleasuring you, his own desires taking a backseat as he lavished attention on your sensitive flesh.

In that moment, a fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if Harry had trained extensively for this, honing his skills as a lover just as he had as a field agent in Kingsman. You remembered hearing rumors of his prowess in the bedroom, of how he had seduced countless targets with his charm and charisma.

But even as you pondered his past exploits, you couldn't deny the desperation in Harry's actions, the way he seemed to be fucking you like a starving man, desperate to ensure your pleasure above all else. It was as if he needed to make sure you were enjoying every moment of it, as if his own satisfaction depended on yours.

And he was good at giving pleasure, so good...

Lost in the heat of the moment, you let out a guttural moan of pleasure, your body trembling with ecstasy as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of Harry's touch. With each flick of his tongue, each caress of his lips, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of release, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you.

And then, just as you felt yourself reaching the brink, Harry shifted his focus, his mouth closing around your clit with a tantalizing suction. You cried out in ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of sensation crashed over you in a dizzying torrent.

With a final flick of his tongue, Harry brought you to the peak of ecstasy, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave as you cried out his name in a voice thick with desire. As you came undone in his arms, Harry held you close, his touch gentle and reassuring as he guided you through the throes of pleasure.

As you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking, Harry pressed a tender kiss to your inner thigh, his touch filled with warmth and affection. "You were incredible, Guinevere," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with awe. "Absolutely incredible."

You smiled up at him, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the man who had brought you so much pleasure. "You're the one who did all the hard work, sir," you chimed with a mischievous smile, eliciting a chuckle from him as he let out a laugh through his nose.

Harry then stood up, positioning himself between your legs, you watched with anticipation as he teased you with the tip of his cock, collecting some of your nectar to wet himself. The sight of him preparing to enter you sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins, your heart pounding with anticipation.

He waited for your consent, his gaze locked with yours as he silently communicated his intentions. When you nodded in response, giving him the permission he sought, Harry smiled warmly, his eyes filled with tenderness and affection.

With slow, deliberate movements, Harry began to enter you, his cock sliding into your wetness with a tantalizing ease. You hissed slightly at the burning sensation, feeling the stretch as Harry slowly but surely separated your walls.

It was too much, he was big, and it didn't even feel like he had reached halfway, yet you already felt full to the brim with him. But despite the initial discomfort, you trusted Harry completely, knowing that he would never hurt you intentionally.

As Harry continued to push himself deeper inside you, he paused, allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. He looked into your eyes, searching for any signs of discomfort or pain, his touch gentle and reassuring as he waited for you to give him the signal to continue.

With a shaky breath, you nodded again, a silent affirmation that you were ready for him to proceed. Encouraged by your consent, Harry began to move again, his movements slow and deliberate as he gradually filled you completely with his length.

You gasped at the sensation, feeling every inch of him stretching you to your limits as he buried himself deep inside you. It was a combination of pleasure and pain, the burning sensation of his entry giving way to a wave of ecstasy as you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure of the moment.

Harry groaned softly at the sensation, his own desire reaching dizzying heights as he felt your tightness enveloping him completely. With each thrust, he delved deeper and deeper into your wetness, his movements growing faster and more intense with each passing moment.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you clung to Harry with a fierce desperation, your nails digging into his skin as you urged him on. "More, Harry," you gasped breathlessly, your voice thick with desire. "I want all of you... fill me completely..."

With a primal growl of desire, Harry gave himself over to the pleasure, his movements becoming more frenzied and intense as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. With each thrust, he drove himself deeper and deeper into your eager flesh, his cock hitting all the right spots with expert precision.

You cried out in ecstasy, your body writhing beneath him as waves of pleasure crashed over you in delicious waves. It was a whirlwind of sensation, the burning heat of his cock driving you to new heights of pleasure as you surrendered yourself completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And then, just as you felt yourself reaching the brink of release, Harry shifted his focus, his hand finding its way between your bodies to tease your clit with expert strokes. You cried out in ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of sensation washed over you in a dizzying torrent.

With a final thrust, Harry brought you to the peak of ecstasy, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave as you cried out his name in a voice thick with desire. As you came undone in his arms, Harry held you close, his touch gentle and reassuring as he guided you through the throes of pleasure.

He then chased his own orgasm, his eyes rolled back in pleasure, his mind consumed by the overwhelming sensation coursing through his body. With each thrust, he felt himself drawing closer and closer to the edge, the promise of release beckoning him like a siren's call.

"Guinevere," he gasped breathlessly, his voice thick with desire. "My Guinevere..."

He was lost in a haze of pleasure, his mind filled with thoughts of you and the intense connection you shared. With each thrust, he felt himself drawing closer and closer to the edge, his body trembling with anticipation as he neared his climax. He had imagined this moment countless times, replaying it over and over again in his mind as he pleasured himself in the shower, your name on his lips as he imagined you in his arms.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned softly, his voice tinged with desperation. "I've wanted this for so long... dreamed about it... fantasized about you, Guinevere..."

He regretted not taking you to his house, not having you in his bed where he could worship you completely. He longed to feel your warmth against his skin, to leave your scent lingering on his sheets as a reminder of the passion you had shared.

But even as he lamented his missed opportunity, he knew that this moment, here with you in this luxurious hotel room, was more perfect than anything he could have imagined. He was lost in a whirlwind of sensation, his body consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of being one with you in every way possible.

As Harry gazed down at you, his heart swelled with love and desire, overwhelmed by the intensity of the connection you shared. He could feel the primal urge building inside him, the need to claim you completely, to mark you as his own in the most intimate way possible.

"Guinevere," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with desire. "Where do you want me to come, my love?"

His eyes searched yours, silently pleading for your consent, your permission to release himself inside you. He longed to feel the tightness of your warmth surrounding him, to fill you with his essence and mark you as his forever...

But he would never do anything without your permission.

You arched against him, receiving his thrusts, clinging to his back. "Inside me, Harry," you breathed softly, your voice filled with longing. "I want you to fill me completely, to mark me as yours in every way possible."

Harry's heart soared at your words, his desire reaching a fever pitch as he felt the weight of your consent wash over him like a tidal wave.

His perfect girl.

With a primal growl of desire, he surrendered himself completely to the pleasure, driving himself deep inside you as he unleashed his passion.

As he reached the peak of ecstasy, Harry closed his eyes and threw his head back, lost in the overwhelming sensation of release. With a guttural groan, he gave himself over to the pleasure, his body trembling with the intensity of his climax as he released himself inside you, filling you with his seed.

You cried out in ecstasy, your body convulsing with pleasure as waves of sensation washed over you in a dizzying torrent. It was a moment of pure bliss, the culmination of your desire for each other as you surrendered yourselves completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And as Harry collapsed beside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps, you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you basked in the afterglow of your lovemaking. In that moment, you knew that you were truly his, and he was yours, bound together in a love that would last a lifetime.

As Harry traced patterns down your spine, you couldn't help but smile at the sensation, reveling in the warmth of his touch. "Did you have fun, Guinevere?" he asked softly, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

You nodded in response, a contented sigh escaping your lips as you snuggled closer to him. "I did, Harry," you replied warmly, your voice tinged with satisfaction. "It was amazing." The two of you were silent then, just clinging to each other for a few moments.

But then, to your surprise, you felt Harry's arousal stirring once again, his body pressing against yours with renewed vigor. "Arthur, where's your refractory period?" you teased playfully, unable to hide your astonishment.

Harry followed your gaze, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he realized his body's quick response. "I... I'm sorry, Guinevere," he stammered shyly, his voice tinged with embarrassment. "This has never happened to me before."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his adorable response, finding his innocence endearing. "It's okay, Harry," you reassured him gently, your voice filled with warmth and affection. "I'm not complaining, just surprised."

Harry laughed lightly at your response, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in closer to you. "Well, be careful," he warned playfully. "I might not let you leave this room anytime soon."

You grinned up at him, the prospect of spending more time with Harry filling you with excitement. "I wouldn't mind that at all," you replied teasingly, your voice filled with anticipation. "In fact, I think we could make good use of that hot tub you mentioned earlier."

Harry's eyes lit up at the suggestion, his grin widening into a mischievous smirk. "Oh, I like the way you think, Guinevere," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to baptize every inch of this hotel room with our love."

As Harry got up, a rush of excitement coursed through him at the thought of sharing the hot tub with you. He moved with purpose, his anticipation growing with each step as he made his way to the bathroom to prepare the tub.

Meanwhile, you nestled comfortably under the covers, watching Harry with a smile as he went about his task. His eagerness was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the prospect of joining him in the hot tub.

But as Harry filled the tub with warm water and added a generous amount of bubbles, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling of possessiveness that gnawed at him. He doesn't know why he suddenly thought of it, but the idea of ​​you with someone else crept into his mind and now he couldn't dismiss it.

Thankfully, you hadn't acted as a field agent, which meant you hadn't been with other men in that capacity. But still, the idea of you being with someone else, even in the past, unsettled him deeply. He knew it was selfish of him to feel this way, but he couldn't help it.

Lost in his thoughts, Harry didn't notice you slipping out of bed and making your way to the bathroom until you wrapped your arms around him from behind, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder. "Are you ready for our hot tub adventure, Harry?" you asked playfully, your voice filled with excitement.

Harry turned to face you, his heart swelling with love at the sight of you standing before him, wrapped in nothing but the covers. "More than ready, my dear Guinevere," he replied warmly, his voice tinged with affection. "But first, there's something I need to tell you."

You looked at him curiously, a furrow forming on your brow as you waited for him to continue. "What is it, Harry?" you asked gently, your concern evident in your voice.

Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "I... I know this might sound selfish, but..." he began hesitantly, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.

You reached out to touch his cheek, your touch gentle and reassuring as you encouraged him to speak his mind. "It's okay, Harry," you reassured him softly. "You can tell me anything."

Harry met your gaze, his eyes shining with vulnerability as he spoke. "I... I don't like the thought of you being with other men," he admitted quietly, his voice filled with honesty. "It makes me feel... possessive, I guess. I know it's not fair to you, and I'm sorry for feeling this way."

You listened to his words with understanding, your heart swelling with love and affection for the man standing before you. "It's okay, Harry," you replied gently, your voice filled with warmth. "I understand how you feel, and I appreciate you being honest with me. But you have nothing to worry about. You're the only one I want, now and forever."

Harry's eyes softened at your words, his heart overflowing with love and gratitude for the woman who had captured his heart so completely. "Thank you, Guinevere," he whispered softly, his voice tinged with emotion. "You truly are my everything."

With that, Harry pulled you into his arms, holding you close as he pressed a tender kiss to your lips.

As you slipped into the warm, bubbling water of the hot tub, a sigh of contentment escaped your lips, your body relaxing instantly at the soothing sensation. Harry watched you with a smile, his eyes filled with adoration as he joined you in the tub, settling in beside you with a contented sigh.

The atmosphere was light and playful as you splashed around in the water, teasing each other with playful touches and flirtatious glances. Harry couldn't help but admire your enthusiasm, your laughter echoing through the room as you enjoyed each other's company.

But as the moments passed, the playful atmosphere began to shift, the air thick with anticipation as desire simmered just beneath the surface. Harry's gaze grew more intense, his eyes dark with desire as he watched you move through the water with a sensual grace that made his heart race with longing.

Sensing the change in Harry's demeanor, you met his gaze with a knowing smile, your own desire mirroring his as you leaned in closer to him. With a sultry glint in your eye, you trailed your fingers lightly over his chest, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch as you stoked the flames of his desire.

Harry groaned softly at the sensation, his arousal evident in the way his body responded to your touch. Unable to resist any longer, he pulled you into his arms, his lips finding yours in a searing kiss that left you breathless with desire.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you straddled Harry's lap, the water lapping at your skin as you ground your hips against his with a fierce determination. Harry's hands roamed over your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both.

With a primal growl of desire, Harry guided you down onto his cock, sinking deep inside you with a delicious friction that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You cried out in ecstasy, your nails digging into his shoulders as you rode him with abandon, your bodies moving together in a passionate rhythm that left you both gasping for air.

Harry's mouth found its way to your breasts, his lips attaching to your sensitive flesh with a hungry desperation as he lavished attention on you with a fervor that bordered on obsession. You arched your back, offering yourself completely to his touch as he sucked and nibbled at your skin, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Lost in the ecstasy of the moment, you surrendered yourself completely to the pleasure, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the connection you shared with Harry. With each thrust, each kiss, you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony as you chased the ultimate release.

And as the night wore on, you and Harry indulged in your passion, exploring every inch of the luxurious hotel room in a frenzy of desire. You moved from the bed to the couch, the nightstand, and even the bathroom sink, each surface becoming a playground for your insatiable lust.

With each new location, the intensity of your lovemaking grew, your bodies moving together with a primal urgency that left you both breathless with desire. You lost track of time as you surrendered yourselves completely to the pleasure, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of being one with each other.

On the bed again, you tangled yourselves in the sheets, your bodies entwined in a passionate embrace as you chased the ultimate release. Harry's hands roamed over your skin with a hunger that bordered on desperation, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both.

But even as the night wore on, your desire showed no signs of waning. You found yourselves pressed against the wall, the cool surface providing a stark contrast to the heat of your passion as you surrendered yourselves completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And when the floor beckoned to you with its promise of forbidden pleasure, you didn't hesitate to indulge, sinking to your knees before Harry as you took him into your mouth with a fervor that left him gasping for air. It was a moment of pure bliss, the intensity of your desire driving you to new heights of pleasure as you surrendered yourselves completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

As the night wore on, exhaustion finally caught up with you both, and you found yourselves wrapped in each other's arms, drifting off into a blissful slumber. The next morning, you awoke to the gentle sound of birds chirping outside the window, the warm rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains as you stirred from your sleep.

Harry pulled you closer to him, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as he murmured softly, "Good morning, my love."

You smiled up at him, your heart swelling with love and affection as you nestled closer to him. "Good morning, Arthur," you replied warmly, your voice filled with contentment.

But before you could fully wake up and start your day, Harry's hands began to roam over your body, his touch igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you both. With a mischievous grin, he whispered huskily in your ear, "How about one last round in the shower before we head back to work?"

You couldn't help but laugh at his suggestion, the thought of making love to him one last time before facing the day filling you with excitement. "Sounds perfect to me, Harry," you replied playfully, your voice tinged with anticipation.

With a grin, Harry led you to the bathroom, where the warm water cascaded over your bodies, washing away the remnants of sleep as you surrendered yourselves completely to the pleasure of each other's touch.

As the steam filled the room, you and Harry lost yourselves in the heat of the moment, your bodies moving together in perfect harmony as you chased the ultimate release. It was a moment of pure bliss, the intensity of your desire driving you to new heights of pleasure as you surrendered yourselves completely to the ecstasy of the moment.

And when you finally emerged from the shower, thoroughly sated and thoroughly late for work, you couldn't help but laugh at the thought of facing the day together. "I can't believe we're going to be late," you exclaimed, your voice filled with amusement.

But Harry just grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he wrapped his arms around you. "Don't worry, my dear," he reassured you teasingly. "Fucking the boss has its advantages, remember? Being late for work is just one of them."

You laughed at his comment, unable to resist the playful banter as you teased him back. "Oh, really? And what other advantages do I have for fucking the boss of Kingsman?" you questioned with a smirk.

Harry's grin widened into a smirk as he leaned in closer to you, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "Well, let me show you..."

[360degreesasthecrowflies]

London is a city that has always been deeply uneven, with plenty of cultural treasures to hide the poverty in the Tower Blocks and the underpasses. London is effectively the main of the UK economy, and everything is geared towards it. Hence it retains a degree of economic dynamism that allows a degree of optimism, after all there's always a new restaurant, new exhibition, new flagship store, new play. Sure most workers are dirt poor, living on mashed avocado, and hoping the landlord gets visited by 3 Ghosts at Christmas, but there's the dream of making it in the big city.

Outside the London bubble, large parts of the country are either in despair, or have totally given up. Roads, bridges, hospitals, and schools are crumbling. Police have almost disappeared outside traffic stops. Courts are backlogged, prisons overfilled & well past their designed lifespan. Companies face significant trade barriers with the EU. The water industry is essentially operating on leveraged debt and mostly owned by oversea's pension funds, whilst the infrastructure collapses and raw sewage is being pumped into the rivers/seas. Everyone is underpaid compared to the cost of living, but also compared to many comparable roles in other countries.

In the shires, the more well paid commuter class can still have a nice life, but they are feeling a sharp pinch. Holidays cut. Cars held on to much, much longer than before. Meals out being reduced. Optional extras like music or sports for the kids cancelled. Impulse purchases stopped. All of which sounds like "oh poor Emma can't get her daughter Lucinda piano lessons boo hoo" but think about the economic impact. That is money that would have gone to a piano teacher (usually self employed), to the coffee shop whilst Emma waits, to a music shop for music, perhaps a CD or concert tickets to something Lucinda played at a lesson. Then when Lucinda grows up instead of having a career in arts or entertainment, even at her local bar or church, she doesn't know how to play piano. So society as a whole has lost a musician, and Lucinda as a person flourishes slightly less. The UK arts sector is one of our biggest economic powerhouses, yet it is routinely ignored and hammered by the govt. Art & music are regarded as luxury items, despite contributing £1.6 billion to the annual economy (2021 at 5.6%). That's huge, bigger than the fishing industry which contributes £1.4 billion (2021 at 4%). Yet with rents sky rocketing, and school budgets in utter crisis, arts/music get dropped and creative talent has to switch to more routine jobs to survive. UK Musicians are dropped from EU events following the botched visa system, and international work is increasingly harder for them to get.

Outside the diminishing middle class, the real difficulty and poverty of the UK hits home. People are not sure whether the next rent payment or electricity will quite literally bankrupt them and leave them homeless. Wages are mostly static, with few rises outside a number of key sectors. Some areas have seen wage growth, but that has been concentrated in a small number of jobs (especially finance/management). The population is aging, and the care system is left almost entirely to private companies in a very disjointed, expensive manner. For most people the only credible hope of a financially better life is to inherit or to win the lottery or to commit crime. This is strikingly similar to the pattern seen in many developing world economies.

For example, I have worked in the public sector for 20 years. In that time I have trained, gained professional qualifications, led larger teams, upskilled on IT/project management and become more productive. Since my pay has been capped at a 0.5% rise, it is a real terms wage cut. So I've become more productive yet I'm paid less. Why should I 1) carry on trying to be more productive, & 2) stay in the job? Productivity increases from workers have to be linked to a personal reward, as well as a benefit to an employer or there's no point for the employee. Hence "quiet quitting".

So the UK is in the dire position of poor infrastructure, rampant poverty, and a population that no longer believes hard work or being productive will improve their own lives, only maintain their survival. This is not a recipe for a flourishing economy or nation. The worst thing is that the UK has started to lose hope that things can get better without a magical solution. Without at least some hope, we are doomed.

Saved via reddit from user 'AgeOfVictoriaPodcast' - as an excellent (if depressing!) summary of the UK's economy and society in 2023 / the 2020s / post Brexit

[tartt9]

okay fuck it heist au

jamie is nine when he first joins his dad, denbo, and bug on a job. no one expects a nine-year-old, see. mummy doesn’t know where he is, and jamie knows better than to tell her. he doesn’t want to see that disappointed look in her eye. jamie’s just gone round to the pub to watch the footy with his dad, he hopes she thinks. but jamie is nine, and he doesn’t think about it, he just does what james says - he stands watch, he uses his quick fingers when he can, he ends up handing over a bracelet that he’s not sure is worth anything to james.

jamie doesn’t know what james does with the objects jamie manages to get his hands on. rings, watches, bracelets. he’s managed a necklace or two, because people like the way he looks, and he can get away with being a distraction. he’s not the smoothest talker, but he’s fourteen, and who really is the smoothest talker at fourteen? he looks older, his dad says. sixteen, maybe eighteen, if he’s pushing it.

there’s a heist in amsterdam. jamie doesn’t speak about amsterdam.

when they get back, jamie finds himself more and more frustrated, working for his father, not having anything to show for it himself - he barely gets a hundred quid out of jobs that he knows are worth more. he’s googled the fucking rolex he just lifted, he knows its worth. he’s getting tired of being pushed around. of being called names. he’s about to give up on the whole fucking thing, to find a real, important job like mummy has, when he gets a call from rupert mannion.

jamie’s never heard of the man in his life. who the fuck would have heard of rupert mannion? that’s the whole point. mannion says he’s heard about jamie. that kind of freaks jamie out, because who’s been talking about him enough for word to get all the way to london? but mannion’s heard, and he’s offering him more. a place to make a name for himself. luxuries of his own. he’ll never have to set foot on an estate ever again. but what about mummy? he doesn’t say that. 

he just says yes.

jamie moves to london, tells georgie that it’s for a job opportunity - something big, something important, something like what she does. jamie is wholly unqualified to be a nurse, or to really do much of anything. he bombed his gcses, he’s always been shit at school, uni is out of the question. he promises he’ll visit, he promises he’ll be back, he promises he promises he promises–

working for mannion is no better than working for his father. it’s different, of course; mannion’s hands-off while his father was controlling, obsessive. mannion’s got fucking wealth, his father somehow managed to piss away their spoils at the pub every weekend. but mannion and james tartt are both fucking snakes.

jamie does his job, of course - and he does it fucking well. he’s a smooth talker, he’s a good distraction, but jamie has always - always - been known for one thing. his speed. he can grab a watch from someone in half the time it takes others. and, once he’s got it, he’s gone in the blink of an eye. some people swear that jamie could keep up with a car if he put his mind to it. mannion uses that speed. jamie works with him, and his team, for four years. 

he’s twenty-three, and he actually does have a home of his own, now. it’s nothing extravagant, just a little flat that he can afford the rent for - it feels proper. it feels like home. mannion offered to buy him something more, but jamie denied the offer; he wanted something of his own. and mannion doesn’t know his fucking address.

so when jamie leaves, he’s safe. he’s done. he’s out. he’s done belonging to anyone but himself. he was under james tartt’s thumb from the time he was nine until he was nineteen, and under rupert mannion’s until he was twenty-three, and he’s ready to be his own man.

jamie takes up a job at a bar. it’s some fucking wanker’s place, it’s got a name above the door, but everyone’s always called it 8’s. he’s a good bartender, still just as fucking fast as he was in his previous life. and - the thing about jamie tartt - he’s a good fucking listener. he always has been. people don’t know he’s listening, but he is. and he has a fucking great memory. he loves being a bartender. it’s fun, it’s easy, he’s paid well and tipped even better. he’s got a pretty face and a northern accent and a jawline to kill for.

parker’s fucking obvious. she doesn’t think she is, and the people she’s nicking from definitely don’t notice, but jamie does. he asks her one night what the fuck she thinks she’s doing. tells her that the people she’s taking from won’t hesitate to get her thrown back in prison. she asks how he knows where she comes from. isn’t it fucking obvious to everyone else? denbo has the same fucking energy about him. but, jamie supposes, not everyone knows a denbo cullens. especially these fucking wankers. he tells her to cut it out. that he’s not in charge of her, but she can’t lift here - not at 8’s. 

see, the thing about 8’s is that it’s a place where jamie’s heard just about anything. he hears about the big premier league trades before they go through. he hears that there’s some rugby man who got caught with his manager’s wife. he hears this and that and everything, and he hears that rupert mannion and rebecca welton have gotten a divorce.

he’s twenty-four. he’s been out of the business for a year. good for welton, he thinks. better off without that old shriveled up wanker. 

he’s twenty-four. he’s been out of the business for a year. what’s that itching at the back of his neck, the longing in his chest, the energy in his fingertips, in his toes?

he’s twenty-four. he’s been out of the business for a year. why the fuck does he almost envy parker of her lifting off of 8’s patrons?

he’s twenty-four. he’s been out of the business for a year. rupert mannion and rebecca welton have gotten a divorce.

he makes a phone call. 

they call him 8 after that. 

[i-gotyou-dontworry]

Tom never owned an Audi. Sony had an agreement with Audi which, among other things, allowed Tom to rent an Audi for free in whatever city he was in. But Sony changed the deal to Hyundai, that's why Tom shot a Hyundai commercial dressed as Spidey and another as Nathan Drake. But Tom has never used the free rental clause with Hyundai. During the NWH premiere he got a Rolls Royce from his luxury car dealer friend (@wiresonly) who congratulated him for getting that car. We don't know if it was a free rental or a car he actually bought. We've never seen that car since that month (Tuwaine posted it when they went golfing after the NWH premiere). Z has been in LA very sporadically since, but we just saw her trusty Land Rover in pap shots from last week (a car that we've seen Tom drive). My guess is that Tom just has his 2 Porsches in London and that Rolls Royce was just a free rental

....then no idea🤷‍♀️

[colivingflats]

A Local’s Guide to Living in North London’s Trendiest Neighborhoods

North London isn’t trying to be the next big thing—it already is, in its own understated way. For anyone traversing the city through the lens of lived realism, it quickly becomes clear that this quadrant of the capital doesn’t scream for attention; it thrives in its quiet, complex corners. From canal-side walks interrupted by indie film crews to family-run bakeries resisting algorithmic food trends, North London is less about branding and more about the fine print of daily life. This guide traces the outlines of neighborhoods not just as destinations, but as spaces where things persist: community rituals, architectural idiosyncrasies, and rented flats that somehow feel like home.

Camden Town: The Cultural Powerhouse

Camden is both overexposed and underappreciated. Most know it for the market, the music history, and the mythology of a certain kind of rebellion. Yet live here long enough and the patina of punk fades, revealing a place of layered contradictions. Locals thread between late-night buskers and early commuters. The regrowth after each wave of gentrification is uneven but ongoing.

It’s not cheap—rarely has been—but some stay for the rhythm of life: loud on weekends, quieter mid-week. Flats vary from brutalist blocks to surprisingly leafy pockets behind the high street. Accessibility via the Northern Line is excellent, though rush hour is not for the faint of heart.

Islington: Elegant and Energetic

Islington is the borough equivalent of that friend who owns both vinyl records and a wearable fitness tracker. It mixes aesthetics and efficiency in a way that feels oddly balanced. The high street is full of soft-lit wine bars that also serve as remote offices during daylight hours.

Georgian facades are interrupted by the occasional brutalist interlude, a reminder that architectural continuity here is an illusion. The theatre scene is persistent but not self-congratulatory. Living here means accepting that rent is high but returns—in quality of services, schools, and transport—are quantifiable.

Hampstead: Leafy Luxury

Hampstead is less a neighborhood than a lifestyle aesthetic exported into real estate brochures. For residents, however, it’s just home—albeit one wrapped in an elevated sense of place. It’s a village dressed in intellectual folklore, with a green lung in the form of the Heath.

Everything here seems to move at half the speed of the city, which is precisely the point. Cafés function more like reading rooms, and the real estate market speaks fluent exclusivity. For some, it’s an aspirational endpoint. For others, it’s a quiet holdout against the rest of London’s escalating pace.

Finsbury Park: Urban Revival

Finsbury Park is often described as “up and coming,” but that phrase loses meaning after a decade of sustained redevelopment. What’s truer is that it’s now a fully realized, if uneven, patchwork of old London resilience and new London aesthetics.

Its park remains a vital, multifunctional space. Sports fields, open-air gigs, impromptu yoga sessions—it’s all happening. The flats range from 1960s council designs to steel-and-glass newcomers. Rent here is competitive, though rising. It’s a practical choice for those balancing budgets with a need for connectivity.

Stoke Newington: Bohemian Charm

Stokey isn’t a secret, but it pretends to be. There’s a studied casualness to the place that veers dangerously close to preciousness. Church Street is the anchor: organic markets, soft-focus bakeries, and parents pushing prams that cost more than your first car.

But beneath the Instagram veneer is a tight-knit community where schools, faith centers, and long-term residents still shape the narrative. Housing leans period but not palatial. You come here for the village feel, but stay because everything somehow works—awkward traffic flow included.

Kentish Town: Quietly Cool

Kentish Town doesn’t ask to be noticed. It’s Camden’s quieter cousin, housing those who outgrew all-night gigs but still appreciate a local record shop. The pubs serve food that’s better than necessary, and the high street is functional, not flashy.

The vibe is subdued but self-aware. Families live next to renters. Flats above shops coexist with restored Victorian terraces. Its strength lies in normalcy—no grand claims, just livability in a city often allergic to the concept.

Highbury: The Hidden Gem

Highbury is the polite nod in a room full of extroverts. It offers stability without monotony, proximity without pressure. Highbury Fields anchors the neighborhood not just as green space, but as civic center. It’s a lawn for birthday parties, runners, and book club meetups.

Residential stock leans classic, schools are solid, and everything feels gently curated without tipping into artificial. Highbury is for those who want to be in London, but on their terms. It’s trend-resistant in the best possible way.

Crouch End: Community-Centric Living

Crouch End might actually be a simulation. It’s so self-contained, so perfectly tuned to community life, that it occasionally feels implausible. No Tube station? No problem. Residents embrace the bus, the bike, the weekend stroll.

Here, even the launderettes look curated. Bookshops thrive. The local arts scene is credible, not quaint. Housing stock ranges wide, and the neighborhood spirit is enviably intact. It doesn’t care if it’s overlooked—Crouch End works for the people who already live there.

The Modern Rental Landscape

Renting in North London no longer follows a single narrative. The proliferation of flats to rent North London reflects evolving lifestyles—shorter tenures, flexible work, and urban dispersal. Landlords are responding (some reluctantly) with better maintenance, semi-transparent fees, and amenity-rich developments.

Meanwhile, Furnished Flats London continue to appeal to a specific demographic: mobile professionals, graduate students, and those avoiding IKEA trips. The furnished market isn’t just about ease—it’s about avoiding another round of logistical Tetris every time you move.

Conclusion

North London doesn’t need to be decoded. It’s there to be experienced: at street level, through slow observations and long tenancies. The neighborhoods in this guide resist oversimplification because their character lies in contradiction and coexistence. There’s charm and grit, tradition and experimentation. For those choosing to rent here, the payoff is less about trendiness and more about finding a version of the city that actually fits.

[chrispaulsrocks]

"of service matched the sheer luxury of the car. Driving through London's streets felt like a VIP experience.

[karam001]

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[chasing-rabbits]

I am SO lucky to have parents who can support me if these benefits changes come through. If I lose my money I KNOW I am safe because they will find a way to help but you know what that hasn’t stopped me from being stressed out over this. I’m upset and angry for those around me who don’t have a secure safety net. I am angry that this is the country we live in. And I am worried and concerned about the future & I am STILL worried about losing my benefits because my parents make good money but they aren’t ’cash rich’. They bought a house in the early 2000s pretty cheap & got really lucky that its value has SKY ROCKETED I mean gone insane the area we live in because its a commuter town to London I found out recently the increase in house prices for my town is above the national average. I’m not surprised because during COVID so many people wanting to move out of London properties here got snapped up. So many newer luxury rentals coming in aimed so clearly at commuters. Rents are fucking stupid here not like London insanity prices but seeing how they’ve gone up from pre covid prices it’s just ugh the flat we rented 1 bed small but centre of town £675 right before Covid now its £1000 per month. Just for context if you’re on benefits the government will pay out a set rate based on market rental prices for a specific area & they base it not on an average but the lowest x percentile which is BS. They pay £650 a month for rent (for a 1 bed rate this isn’t based on how many bedrooms you have it’s based on how many bedrooms they deem you to need so like if I a single person rented a 2 bed I wouldnt get the 2 bed rate obvs) My rent is £775 the rest is paid out of pocket from the other benefits I get. For a lot of people this benefits cut is going to make meeting the basics hard.

I rely on my PIP benefits to cover my costs & I am able to live reasonably comfortably ( I’m not worrying pay check to pay check so to speak) because I get the max rate of disability benefits & because I save money via cash back schemes & I don’t go out a ton & I don’t own a car or have to rely too much on paying for other means of transport because a lot of the time I get a lift from my dad/brother. I do things to get gift cards I’ve earned enough amazon gift cards to pay for my cat litter for an entire year before & then some. But I recognise I am in the minority & many people are struggling day to day as it is now & if they lose any of their benefits thats it. Even with all my penny pinching saving ways I’d be in debt every month w/o my PIP. The ONLY saving grace is because my PIP got reassessed last year I’m not due a reassessment oh shit wait I think it is next year I thought I had 2yrs but it might just be 1. I’m not sure if the PIP changes are for new claimants or anyone getting reassessed because for the basic universal credit benefits its for new claimants only & it won’t be until ages away before they phase it out to existing claimants so my benefits are safe for now (aside from PIP maybe idk I’ll have to check that one) But tbh it doesnt necessarily make me feel any much more secured knowing that hey at least I have another couple years until they potentially get slashed. I mean the only hope is someone getting voted in during the next election who will come into power & halt the progress of benefits changes but who do you even vote for when the 2 biggest parties are in agreement on benefits cuts. The next biggest ones are the new party that formed last yr thats just the fucking we hate immigrants party headed up by the ex leader of the old far right party or you’ve got Lib Dem’s & I mean what the fuck have they ever done for us. Fuck all. Oh and back to my original point w/ my parents like I don’t want to be a burden on them quite frankly I dont want to be on benefits for my life either contrary to what the govt would have ppl believe. And I am trying to get shit together for myself to find a way to make a living but I will never be able to work a ‘normal’ job & no one will ever employ me but it’s stressful thinking that I might have to put a clock on how long I have to get to a stage where I can make a sustainable living for myself because you know thats not really how recovery works & if anything putting pressure on myself to set up an income that will pay me a living wage by the time these changes come into place is potentially only going to make my MH worse. And maybe its silly for me to get so stressed out when I know my parents will have my back & I cant explain why knowing that doesn’t ease my stress & anxiety up as much as maybe it should in terms of like worrying about my personal situation vs my worries about everyone else & the world. Like personally it should cause me less worry & I guess it does provide me some comfort but maybe not enough to outweigh the whole situation and I just really worry for those around me who dont have any safety nets. It’s just inhumane and cruel what they’re doing.

[cleverhottubmiracle]

Ever wish you could text the most stylish people in the world to ask them for their lists of things to do in the places they know best? Here are insider travel tips for those who would never be caught dead in a tourist trap. Bon voyage!WhoThree of the region’s most inspiring locals and regulars share their essentials for the UNESCO-World Heritage Site city and winding, rural wine destination: Teresa Barros, the founder and CEO of the tastemaking Xpose consulting; AD 100 architect Elizabeth Roberts, a Porto regular who is currently building a home for her family and a hotel in Alentejo, Portugal; and Michelin-starred chef Nuno Mendes, who is perhaps best known for developing the cuisine at London’s Chiltern Firehouse but recently opened the restaurant Cozinha das Flores in Porto.WhatWhat to Bring:“Portuguese people value quality over brand names, so skip the flashy logos,” Roberts says. Laid-back, tailored apparel is the way to go here. You can make yourself comfortable in this lived-in, history-filled city. “A raincoat is essential, but make it stylish,” she adds, noting that a rain hat which can be folded into a purse is also a smart item to throw in your suitcase.Porto can also be humid and vary in temperature throughout the day, so dress in layers. It’s a small and beautifully walkable city, filled with cobblestone streets and hidden cafés. “Opt for your funkiest walking shoes,” Barros says with a grin. She adds that renting a car will be key, both to take advantage of the region’s beaches and to visit the Douro Valley, which she would recommend planning at least two to three days for a trip. “Count on a 1 hour 30 minute picturesque drive along hilly vineyards and the riverside,” she says. “Evenings [in Douro Valley] are cold, so make sure you bring warm clothing.”What to Leave Behind:“Don’t even think of wearing heels—the cobblestone streets don’t work with heels, and there’s no need for discomfort or formality,” Roberts says.Additionally, be prepared to slow down. There’s no place to rush in a city that puts careful energy into the slow life. Take a deep breath and allow yourself to properly detach.What to Keep in Mind:As mentioned, Porto is a city that moves at a calmer rate. “Be respectful,” Roberts says. “Porto’s slower pace of life is about valuing family and well-being. Don’t mistake that for laziness!”She also notes that people will make the effort to speak your language. “They appreciate kindness and respect but dislike having other cultural ways imposed on them,” Roberts adds.WhereWhere to Stay:“Although there are many options, I always prefer alternatives which allow me to connect with a city’s history and people in a slightly different way,” says Barros, who favors Armazem Luxury, “a stunning converted 19th-century iron warehouse.”Courtesy of Armazen Luxury HousingThere’s also Mo house, a family-owned townhouse “where it feels like you are staying at a friend’s,” the 18th-century townhouse Rosa et Al, and Casa do Conto (“think historical building meets concrete architecture,” she offers).“For something slightly more upscale, there is the recently inaugurated Palacete Severo, a carefully restored manor house filled with stained-glass windows and wooden interiors,” Barros adds.Courtesy Palacete Severo. Photo by Rupert EdenThe Largo, a small residence with a focus on local artists, is also a beautiful option. Roberts likes Torel Palace Hotel (“they have a really good spa,” she notes) and Vila Foz, which she also recommends for a date night and “a special place for drinks.”For Douro Valley, the Six Senses Douro Valley boasts gorgeous villas and a central location in the heart of the many vineyards.Courtesy Six Senses. Photo by John AthimaritisRoberts stays at Quinta da Corte when she’s in the area. “You can stay in the old vineyard house that was beautifully renovated and furnished by Pierre Yovanovitch,” she says. “The pool is perched on the steep mountainside with the most incredible views of the Douro Valley.”Barros also suggests Quinta Nova de Nossa Senhora do Carmo, a family home originally built in 1764 which brings “a profound sense of calm,” and Casa do Rio, a tiny eight-suite hotel with Scandinavian design and “a stunning infinity pool with breathtaking views of the Douro River valley,” she says.Where to Start the Day:Porto is a pastry city, and if you ask Roberts, Portuguese-style croissants filled with ham and cheese then pressed and toasted (“they are more like brioche in Porto,” she says) at any small “Padaria” are the perfect way to begin exploring the city. “For a classic breakfast, Padaria Ribeiro is a staple, and Padaria Formosa in Foz is a must-visit,” she adds. “Downtown, there are a ton of trendy brunch spots, but Confeitaria do Bolhão offers a unique experience.”Courtesy of Padaria FormosaThe 1920s artist hub Majestic Café is still a breakfast staple in Porto. “It’s one of my favorite places,” Barros says. “The leather upholstery and varnished wood is joined by the decorated ceiling and Flemish mirrors. It’s quite well-known now, so it’s of course frequented by many travelers but locals still frequent this emblematic café.”Facade of the Cafe Majestic located in Santa Catarina Street in PortoPhoto by Cristina Arias/Cover/Getty ImagesIf you like to make breakfast at home, Barros recommends Ogi by Euskalduna, noting that all their breads and pastries are sourdough.Where to Eat:“There’s a real sense of creativity and entrepreneurship in the city’s dining scene,” says chef Mendes, who looks to the region’s deep heritage in his own space, the buzzy Cozinha das Flores. “I have early childhood memories of being here, but after spending many years away, returning to the region and reconnecting with its ingredients, traditions, and cooking methods has been truly inspiring. “When I first started, I had limited knowledge of the region’s culinary landscape, but as I explored its products and reawakened old memories, I developed a much deeper connection,” he continues. “Here, there is a huge passion for tacho (one-pot) cooking, and we embraced this with Tacho do Mês—Cozinha das Flores’s lunch menu that changes every month and is always served in a pot, featuring a traditional northern Portuguese meal. Tacho do Mês has become our guiding concept—a North Star that drives our creativity.”He recommends a mix of classic and experimental spots when in town. “For a more Michelin-style, experiential dining experience, Euskalduna is definitely a standout,” says the chef. “On the other hand, I also love more casual spots. Places that are fun, welcoming, and full of character, like Casa Expresso.”Porto’s dining scene is also full of fresh ideas. “What fascinates me most about Porto is that there’s still so much opportunity for independent ventures,” Mendes says. “There are some exciting, youthful projects in Porto that I find really inspiring. Babel and Pata Gorda are great examples.”If you’re looking for an of-the-moment, vibey spot, both Barros and Roberts suggest Mistu. “It’s in an old metalworks factory and offers world cuisine with a bit of a local twist,” Barros says. She also loves Fava Tonka for a vegetarian option and Tia Tia if you’re looking for a light meal based on seasonal produce with natural wine.Adega São Nicolau is Roberts’s top pick for traditional Portuguese food in a beautiful environment, and Meia-Nau is her go-to spot for high-quality seafood.Finally, when in Douro Valley, Seixo by Chef Vasco Coelho Santos and Toca da Raposa (try the wild boar stew) are fantastic, adds Barros. “In Portugal people love to eat!” she says. “You’ll be eating an incredible lunch and find yourself salivating at the prospect of eating something else for dinner.”Where to Shop:Porto is known for its thriving independent business and creative culture. “One of the things that fascinates me most about Porto is the sense of opportunity that still exists,” Mendes says. This space for invention comes through in the city’s many concept shops and artfully designed spaces. “I see this in all areas, not just in food, but also in craftsmanship, design, and wine,” Mendes says. “There are beautiful, thoughtfully curated shops, artisanal workshops, small wine bars, and cafés where every detail is considered, from ethical sourcing to honoring local traditions. The care and passion behind these spaces are inspiring.”Some favorites worth checking out include 50:50 Warehouse, a newly opened tableware, furniture and lamp shop Roberts loves; the architect-owned Moopi; and Traço Deluz, “for lighting modern, vintage and antique,” says Roberts.Barros calls out the concept shop Good Things, where you can find an assortment of curated garments and decor objects. She says that shopping is all about “strolling the streets and discovering absolute gems in unexpected places.“I recently discovered a place called Escovaria de Belomonte with exquisite handmade artisanal brushes and brooms,” Barros says. A final recommendation is the recently restored Bolhão Market. “This is one of the city’s most iconic places, a monument of public interest and a place which still beats in the heart of the people of Porto,” adds Barros, who shares that you can find everything here, from charcuterie to freshly made cheeses, just-harvested fruits and vegetables, and more. “With merchants still shouting from stall to stall or teasing the customers, its character is absolutely unique.”Where to Look at Art:Don’t miss the renowned Serralves museum, which is worth saving half a day for so you can properly explore the expansive installation-filled gardens, exhibitions, and film spaces.Barros and Roberts also recommend Miguel Bombarda Street for galleries. “Highlights for me include the Nuno Centeno Gallery (my favorite and arguably the city's best) and De La Espada,” says Barros.For live arts, check out Casa da Música and Rivoli before you come, adds Barros. “Their cultural calendars are noteworthy.”Where To Be in Nature:Nature is within easy grasp as long as you have a car in Porto. “Foz Beaches are beautiful,” Roberts shares. “For a perfect beach day, locals prefer Maceda—a surfer’s paradise. Matosinhos International Beach is popular for beginner surf schools, though often crowded and less charming.”She also recommends a stroll through Parque da Cidade for a calm escape without leaving the city. Then, “for a day trip, head to Passadiços do Paiva, Gerês, or the Minho coastline,” she says.Vineyards to Explore:The Douro Valley is a true gem of Portugal, and the region is rich with breathtaking offerings. “There are so many incredible wineries, it’s difficult to highlight just a few,” Barros says.Roberts’s favorite is Quinta da Pacheca, which you can walk to from the Six Senses Hotel and Spa.For Chef Mendes, the Douro Valley is not just a source of indulgence but inspiration. “One of the things I love most is how close to home this all feels—especially with Pra Lá, a project tied to wonderful friends who are also such an important part of our team,” he says. “Beyond that, there are so many winemakers I admire. Dirk Niepoort has been a dear friend and a true visionary in the industry. Then there’s the new wave of independent winemakers bringing fresh energy to Portuguese wine. Quinta da Costa do Pinhão and Quinta de Tourais are doing fantastic work in the Douro Valley, crafting wines that honor tradition while embracing innovation. Mateus Nicolau de Almeida is making wines that deeply reflect the land, and Vasco Croft of Aphros Wines has been pioneering biodynamic and natural winemaking, pushing boundaries in the best way. There’s a deep respect for tradition, but also a fearless curiosity that’s shaping the future of Portuguese wine.”Barros recommends booking visits in advance to ensure access. Some of her favorite vineyards include Quinta do Seixo, Quinta de Crasto, Quinta da Vallado, and Quinta do Bomfim.Where to Grab a Drink:“One of the places I go to is Fiasco,” says Barros, a sentiment also echoed by Roberts. “Here, you’ll find an artistic vibe,” Barros explains. “They have a resident DJ and an amazing vinyl collection (jazz, hip-hop, indie) with over 100 new and used albums by Luca Massolin, and an art gallery.”She also loves Candelabro for wine tastings and RCA, which has a “garden, live music, and serves mainly artisanal beer and wines.”Roberts suggests Capela Incomum for wine with friends. “It used to be a small church,” she explains, “Now, it’s a wine bar with a great selection and a great atmosphere.”Another nice option is a drink on the water. “Try the vibe-y Praia da Luz or Lapa Lapa bar in Foz,” Barros says.Where to Stay Up Late:If you want to keep the night going, both Barros and Roberts agree that there are a few key spots for those in the know. “Passos Manuel is a staple in Porto’s nightlife, managed by Becas, a legend in the nightlife scene,” says Roberts. “Maria’s—former DJ and now Passos curator—curated programming is always inspiring. Plano B is another great choice.”Barros also recommends Maus Hábitos and Pérola Negra for a nightcap.When to VisitDue to its temperate climate, Porto is a great option year-round. That said, “May and June are ideal for skipping rain and enjoying the outdoors,” Roberts notes.Barros suggests September and October, during which Douro Valley is in the grape harvest season. “At this time, besides tasting the many wines, you will witness workers in the fields and perhaps be lucky enough to participate in the winemaking process,” she says.Why“Porto has a fascinating interplay between old and new—long-standing traditions blending seamlessly with progressive ideas,” says Mendes. “You’ll find a centuries-old shop next to a bold, modern concept, and somehow, they coexist harmoniously. It’s that delicate tension between history and innovation that gives Porto its unique character.”This juxtaposition is worth traveling for. “And what’s even more special is that the people here—both locals and visitors—understand this essence of Porto,” he says. “They treasure it, and they work hard to preserve it.”Roberts agrees: “It’s the people,” she adds. “While the locals in Porto may not seem the warmest initially, they are genuine and incredibly friendly once they let you in.” Source link

[norajworld]

Ever wish you could text the most stylish people in the world to ask them for their lists of things to do in the places they know best? Here are insider travel tips for those who would never be caught dead in a tourist trap. Bon voyage!WhoThree of the region’s most inspiring locals and regulars share their essentials for the UNESCO-World Heritage Site city and winding, rural wine destination: Teresa Barros, the founder and CEO of the tastemaking Xpose consulting; AD 100 architect Elizabeth Roberts, a Porto regular who is currently building a home for her family and a hotel in Alentejo, Portugal; and Michelin-starred chef Nuno Mendes, who is perhaps best known for developing the cuisine at London’s Chiltern Firehouse but recently opened the restaurant Cozinha das Flores in Porto.WhatWhat to Bring:“Portuguese people value quality over brand names, so skip the flashy logos,” Roberts says. Laid-back, tailored apparel is the way to go here. You can make yourself comfortable in this lived-in, history-filled city. “A raincoat is essential, but make it stylish,” she adds, noting that a rain hat which can be folded into a purse is also a smart item to throw in your suitcase.Porto can also be humid and vary in temperature throughout the day, so dress in layers. It’s a small and beautifully walkable city, filled with cobblestone streets and hidden cafés. “Opt for your funkiest walking shoes,” Barros says with a grin. She adds that renting a car will be key, both to take advantage of the region’s beaches and to visit the Douro Valley, which she would recommend planning at least two to three days for a trip. “Count on a 1 hour 30 minute picturesque drive along hilly vineyards and the riverside,” she says. “Evenings [in Douro Valley] are cold, so make sure you bring warm clothing.”What to Leave Behind:“Don’t even think of wearing heels—the cobblestone streets don’t work with heels, and there’s no need for discomfort or formality,” Roberts says.Additionally, be prepared to slow down. There’s no place to rush in a city that puts careful energy into the slow life. Take a deep breath and allow yourself to properly detach.What to Keep in Mind:As mentioned, Porto is a city that moves at a calmer rate. “Be respectful,” Roberts says. “Porto’s slower pace of life is about valuing family and well-being. Don’t mistake that for laziness!”She also notes that people will make the effort to speak your language. “They appreciate kindness and respect but dislike having other cultural ways imposed on them,” Roberts adds.WhereWhere to Stay:“Although there are many options, I always prefer alternatives which allow me to connect with a city’s history and people in a slightly different way,” says Barros, who favors Armazem Luxury, “a stunning converted 19th-century iron warehouse.”Courtesy of Armazen Luxury HousingThere’s also Mo house, a family-owned townhouse “where it feels like you are staying at a friend’s,” the 18th-century townhouse Rosa et Al, and Casa do Conto (“think historical building meets concrete architecture,” she offers).“For something slightly more upscale, there is the recently inaugurated Palacete Severo, a carefully restored manor house filled with stained-glass windows and wooden interiors,” Barros adds.Courtesy Palacete Severo. Photo by Rupert EdenThe Largo, a small residence with a focus on local artists, is also a beautiful option. Roberts likes Torel Palace Hotel (“they have a really good spa,” she notes) and Vila Foz, which she also recommends for a date night and “a special place for drinks.”For Douro Valley, the Six Senses Douro Valley boasts gorgeous villas and a central location in the heart of the many vineyards.Courtesy Six Senses. Photo by John AthimaritisRoberts stays at Quinta da Corte when she’s in the area. “You can stay in the old vineyard house that was beautifully renovated and furnished by Pierre Yovanovitch,” she says. “The pool is perched on the steep mountainside with the most incredible views of the Douro Valley.”Barros also suggests Quinta Nova de Nossa Senhora do Carmo, a family home originally built in 1764 which brings “a profound sense of calm,” and Casa do Rio, a tiny eight-suite hotel with Scandinavian design and “a stunning infinity pool with breathtaking views of the Douro River valley,” she says.Where to Start the Day:Porto is a pastry city, and if you ask Roberts, Portuguese-style croissants filled with ham and cheese then pressed and toasted (“they are more like brioche in Porto,” she says) at any small “Padaria” are the perfect way to begin exploring the city. “For a classic breakfast, Padaria Ribeiro is a staple, and Padaria Formosa in Foz is a must-visit,” she adds. “Downtown, there are a ton of trendy brunch spots, but Confeitaria do Bolhão offers a unique experience.”Courtesy of Padaria FormosaThe 1920s artist hub Majestic Café is still a breakfast staple in Porto. “It’s one of my favorite places,” Barros says. “The leather upholstery and varnished wood is joined by the decorated ceiling and Flemish mirrors. It’s quite well-known now, so it’s of course frequented by many travelers but locals still frequent this emblematic café.”Facade of the Cafe Majestic located in Santa Catarina Street in PortoPhoto by Cristina Arias/Cover/Getty ImagesIf you like to make breakfast at home, Barros recommends Ogi by Euskalduna, noting that all their breads and pastries are sourdough.Where to Eat:“There’s a real sense of creativity and entrepreneurship in the city’s dining scene,” says chef Mendes, who looks to the region’s deep heritage in his own space, the buzzy Cozinha das Flores. “I have early childhood memories of being here, but after spending many years away, returning to the region and reconnecting with its ingredients, traditions, and cooking methods has been truly inspiring. “When I first started, I had limited knowledge of the region’s culinary landscape, but as I explored its products and reawakened old memories, I developed a much deeper connection,” he continues. “Here, there is a huge passion for tacho (one-pot) cooking, and we embraced this with Tacho do Mês—Cozinha das Flores’s lunch menu that changes every month and is always served in a pot, featuring a traditional northern Portuguese meal. Tacho do Mês has become our guiding concept—a North Star that drives our creativity.”He recommends a mix of classic and experimental spots when in town. “For a more Michelin-style, experiential dining experience, Euskalduna is definitely a standout,” says the chef. “On the other hand, I also love more casual spots. Places that are fun, welcoming, and full of character, like Casa Expresso.”Porto’s dining scene is also full of fresh ideas. “What fascinates me most about Porto is that there’s still so much opportunity for independent ventures,” Mendes says. “There are some exciting, youthful projects in Porto that I find really inspiring. Babel and Pata Gorda are great examples.”If you’re looking for an of-the-moment, vibey spot, both Barros and Roberts suggest Mistu. “It’s in an old metalworks factory and offers world cuisine with a bit of a local twist,” Barros says. She also loves Fava Tonka for a vegetarian option and Tia Tia if you’re looking for a light meal based on seasonal produce with natural wine.Adega São Nicolau is Roberts’s top pick for traditional Portuguese food in a beautiful environment, and Meia-Nau is her go-to spot for high-quality seafood.Finally, when in Douro Valley, Seixo by Chef Vasco Coelho Santos and Toca da Raposa (try the wild boar stew) are fantastic, adds Barros. “In Portugal people love to eat!” she says. “You’ll be eating an incredible lunch and find yourself salivating at the prospect of eating something else for dinner.”Where to Shop:Porto is known for its thriving independent business and creative culture. “One of the things that fascinates me most about Porto is the sense of opportunity that still exists,” Mendes says. This space for invention comes through in the city’s many concept shops and artfully designed spaces. “I see this in all areas, not just in food, but also in craftsmanship, design, and wine,” Mendes says. “There are beautiful, thoughtfully curated shops, artisanal workshops, small wine bars, and cafés where every detail is considered, from ethical sourcing to honoring local traditions. The care and passion behind these spaces are inspiring.”Some favorites worth checking out include 50:50 Warehouse, a newly opened tableware, furniture and lamp shop Roberts loves; the architect-owned Moopi; and Traço Deluz, “for lighting modern, vintage and antique,” says Roberts.Barros calls out the concept shop Good Things, where you can find an assortment of curated garments and decor objects. She says that shopping is all about “strolling the streets and discovering absolute gems in unexpected places.“I recently discovered a place called Escovaria de Belomonte with exquisite handmade artisanal brushes and brooms,” Barros says. A final recommendation is the recently restored Bolhão Market. “This is one of the city’s most iconic places, a monument of public interest and a place which still beats in the heart of the people of Porto,” adds Barros, who shares that you can find everything here, from charcuterie to freshly made cheeses, just-harvested fruits and vegetables, and more. “With merchants still shouting from stall to stall or teasing the customers, its character is absolutely unique.”Where to Look at Art:Don’t miss the renowned Serralves museum, which is worth saving half a day for so you can properly explore the expansive installation-filled gardens, exhibitions, and film spaces.Barros and Roberts also recommend Miguel Bombarda Street for galleries. “Highlights for me include the Nuno Centeno Gallery (my favorite and arguably the city's best) and De La Espada,” says Barros.For live arts, check out Casa da Música and Rivoli before you come, adds Barros. “Their cultural calendars are noteworthy.”Where To Be in Nature:Nature is within easy grasp as long as you have a car in Porto. “Foz Beaches are beautiful,” Roberts shares. “For a perfect beach day, locals prefer Maceda—a surfer’s paradise. Matosinhos International Beach is popular for beginner surf schools, though often crowded and less charming.”She also recommends a stroll through Parque da Cidade for a calm escape without leaving the city. Then, “for a day trip, head to Passadiços do Paiva, Gerês, or the Minho coastline,” she says.Vineyards to Explore:The Douro Valley is a true gem of Portugal, and the region is rich with breathtaking offerings. “There are so many incredible wineries, it’s difficult to highlight just a few,” Barros says.Roberts’s favorite is Quinta da Pacheca, which you can walk to from the Six Senses Hotel and Spa.For Chef Mendes, the Douro Valley is not just a source of indulgence but inspiration. “One of the things I love most is how close to home this all feels—especially with Pra Lá, a project tied to wonderful friends who are also such an important part of our team,” he says. “Beyond that, there are so many winemakers I admire. Dirk Niepoort has been a dear friend and a true visionary in the industry. Then there’s the new wave of independent winemakers bringing fresh energy to Portuguese wine. Quinta da Costa do Pinhão and Quinta de Tourais are doing fantastic work in the Douro Valley, crafting wines that honor tradition while embracing innovation. Mateus Nicolau de Almeida is making wines that deeply reflect the land, and Vasco Croft of Aphros Wines has been pioneering biodynamic and natural winemaking, pushing boundaries in the best way. There’s a deep respect for tradition, but also a fearless curiosity that’s shaping the future of Portuguese wine.”Barros recommends booking visits in advance to ensure access. Some of her favorite vineyards include Quinta do Seixo, Quinta de Crasto, Quinta da Vallado, and Quinta do Bomfim.Where to Grab a Drink:“One of the places I go to is Fiasco,” says Barros, a sentiment also echoed by Roberts. “Here, you’ll find an artistic vibe,” Barros explains. “They have a resident DJ and an amazing vinyl collection (jazz, hip-hop, indie) with over 100 new and used albums by Luca Massolin, and an art gallery.”She also loves Candelabro for wine tastings and RCA, which has a “garden, live music, and serves mainly artisanal beer and wines.”Roberts suggests Capela Incomum for wine with friends. “It used to be a small church,” she explains, “Now, it’s a wine bar with a great selection and a great atmosphere.”Another nice option is a drink on the water. “Try the vibe-y Praia da Luz or Lapa Lapa bar in Foz,” Barros says.Where to Stay Up Late:If you want to keep the night going, both Barros and Roberts agree that there are a few key spots for those in the know. “Passos Manuel is a staple in Porto’s nightlife, managed by Becas, a legend in the nightlife scene,” says Roberts. “Maria’s—former DJ and now Passos curator—curated programming is always inspiring. Plano B is another great choice.”Barros also recommends Maus Hábitos and Pérola Negra for a nightcap.When to VisitDue to its temperate climate, Porto is a great option year-round. That said, “May and June are ideal for skipping rain and enjoying the outdoors,” Roberts notes.Barros suggests September and October, during which Douro Valley is in the grape harvest season. “At this time, besides tasting the many wines, you will witness workers in the fields and perhaps be lucky enough to participate in the winemaking process,” she says.Why“Porto has a fascinating interplay between old and new—long-standing traditions blending seamlessly with progressive ideas,” says Mendes. “You’ll find a centuries-old shop next to a bold, modern concept, and somehow, they coexist harmoniously. It’s that delicate tension between history and innovation that gives Porto its unique character.”This juxtaposition is worth traveling for. “And what’s even more special is that the people here—both locals and visitors—understand this essence of Porto,” he says. “They treasure it, and they work hard to preserve it.”Roberts agrees: “It’s the people,” she adds. “While the locals in Porto may not seem the warmest initially, they are genuine and incredibly friendly once they let you in.” Source link

[chilimili212]

Ever wish you could text the most stylish people in the world to ask them for their lists of things to do in the places they know best? Here are insider travel tips for those who would never be caught dead in a tourist trap. Bon voyage!WhoThree of the region’s most inspiring locals and regulars share their essentials for the UNESCO-World Heritage Site city and winding, rural wine destination: Teresa Barros, the founder and CEO of the tastemaking Xpose consulting; AD 100 architect Elizabeth Roberts, a Porto regular who is currently building a home for her family and a hotel in Alentejo, Portugal; and Michelin-starred chef Nuno Mendes, who is perhaps best known for developing the cuisine at London’s Chiltern Firehouse but recently opened the restaurant Cozinha das Flores in Porto.WhatWhat to Bring:“Portuguese people value quality over brand names, so skip the flashy logos,” Roberts says. Laid-back, tailored apparel is the way to go here. You can make yourself comfortable in this lived-in, history-filled city. “A raincoat is essential, but make it stylish,” she adds, noting that a rain hat which can be folded into a purse is also a smart item to throw in your suitcase.Porto can also be humid and vary in temperature throughout the day, so dress in layers. It’s a small and beautifully walkable city, filled with cobblestone streets and hidden cafés. “Opt for your funkiest walking shoes,” Barros says with a grin. She adds that renting a car will be key, both to take advantage of the region’s beaches and to visit the Douro Valley, which she would recommend planning at least two to three days for a trip. “Count on a 1 hour 30 minute picturesque drive along hilly vineyards and the riverside,” she says. “Evenings [in Douro Valley] are cold, so make sure you bring warm clothing.”What to Leave Behind:“Don’t even think of wearing heels—the cobblestone streets don’t work with heels, and there’s no need for discomfort or formality,” Roberts says.Additionally, be prepared to slow down. There’s no place to rush in a city that puts careful energy into the slow life. Take a deep breath and allow yourself to properly detach.What to Keep in Mind:As mentioned, Porto is a city that moves at a calmer rate. “Be respectful,” Roberts says. “Porto’s slower pace of life is about valuing family and well-being. Don’t mistake that for laziness!”She also notes that people will make the effort to speak your language. “They appreciate kindness and respect but dislike having other cultural ways imposed on them,” Roberts adds.WhereWhere to Stay:“Although there are many options, I always prefer alternatives which allow me to connect with a city’s history and people in a slightly different way,” says Barros, who favors Armazem Luxury, “a stunning converted 19th-century iron warehouse.”Courtesy of Armazen Luxury HousingThere’s also Mo house, a family-owned townhouse “where it feels like you are staying at a friend’s,” the 18th-century townhouse Rosa et Al, and Casa do Conto (“think historical building meets concrete architecture,” she offers).“For something slightly more upscale, there is the recently inaugurated Palacete Severo, a carefully restored manor house filled with stained-glass windows and wooden interiors,” Barros adds.Courtesy Palacete Severo. Photo by Rupert EdenThe Largo, a small residence with a focus on local artists, is also a beautiful option. Roberts likes Torel Palace Hotel (“they have a really good spa,” she notes) and Vila Foz, which she also recommends for a date night and “a special place for drinks.”For Douro Valley, the Six Senses Douro Valley boasts gorgeous villas and a central location in the heart of the many vineyards.Courtesy Six Senses. Photo by John AthimaritisRoberts stays at Quinta da Corte when she’s in the area. “You can stay in the old vineyard house that was beautifully renovated and furnished by Pierre Yovanovitch,” she says. “The pool is perched on the steep mountainside with the most incredible views of the Douro Valley.”Barros also suggests Quinta Nova de Nossa Senhora do Carmo, a family home originally built in 1764 which brings “a profound sense of calm,” and Casa do Rio, a tiny eight-suite hotel with Scandinavian design and “a stunning infinity pool with breathtaking views of the Douro River valley,” she says.Where to Start the Day:Porto is a pastry city, and if you ask Roberts, Portuguese-style croissants filled with ham and cheese then pressed and toasted (“they are more like brioche in Porto,” she says) at any small “Padaria” are the perfect way to begin exploring the city. “For a classic breakfast, Padaria Ribeiro is a staple, and Padaria Formosa in Foz is a must-visit,” she adds. “Downtown, there are a ton of trendy brunch spots, but Confeitaria do Bolhão offers a unique experience.”Courtesy of Padaria FormosaThe 1920s artist hub Majestic Café is still a breakfast staple in Porto. “It’s one of my favorite places,” Barros says. “The leather upholstery and varnished wood is joined by the decorated ceiling and Flemish mirrors. It’s quite well-known now, so it’s of course frequented by many travelers but locals still frequent this emblematic café.”Facade of the Cafe Majestic located in Santa Catarina Street in PortoPhoto by Cristina Arias/Cover/Getty ImagesIf you like to make breakfast at home, Barros recommends Ogi by Euskalduna, noting that all their breads and pastries are sourdough.Where to Eat:“There’s a real sense of creativity and entrepreneurship in the city’s dining scene,” says chef Mendes, who looks to the region’s deep heritage in his own space, the buzzy Cozinha das Flores. “I have early childhood memories of being here, but after spending many years away, returning to the region and reconnecting with its ingredients, traditions, and cooking methods has been truly inspiring. “When I first started, I had limited knowledge of the region’s culinary landscape, but as I explored its products and reawakened old memories, I developed a much deeper connection,” he continues. “Here, there is a huge passion for tacho (one-pot) cooking, and we embraced this with Tacho do Mês—Cozinha das Flores’s lunch menu that changes every month and is always served in a pot, featuring a traditional northern Portuguese meal. Tacho do Mês has become our guiding concept—a North Star that drives our creativity.”He recommends a mix of classic and experimental spots when in town. “For a more Michelin-style, experiential dining experience, Euskalduna is definitely a standout,” says the chef. “On the other hand, I also love more casual spots. Places that are fun, welcoming, and full of character, like Casa Expresso.”Porto’s dining scene is also full of fresh ideas. “What fascinates me most about Porto is that there’s still so much opportunity for independent ventures,” Mendes says. “There are some exciting, youthful projects in Porto that I find really inspiring. Babel and Pata Gorda are great examples.”If you’re looking for an of-the-moment, vibey spot, both Barros and Roberts suggest Mistu. “It’s in an old metalworks factory and offers world cuisine with a bit of a local twist,” Barros says. She also loves Fava Tonka for a vegetarian option and Tia Tia if you’re looking for a light meal based on seasonal produce with natural wine.Adega São Nicolau is Roberts’s top pick for traditional Portuguese food in a beautiful environment, and Meia-Nau is her go-to spot for high-quality seafood.Finally, when in Douro Valley, Seixo by Chef Vasco Coelho Santos and Toca da Raposa (try the wild boar stew) are fantastic, adds Barros. “In Portugal people love to eat!” she says. “You’ll be eating an incredible lunch and find yourself salivating at the prospect of eating something else for dinner.”Where to Shop:Porto is known for its thriving independent business and creative culture. “One of the things that fascinates me most about Porto is the sense of opportunity that still exists,” Mendes says. This space for invention comes through in the city’s many concept shops and artfully designed spaces. “I see this in all areas, not just in food, but also in craftsmanship, design, and wine,” Mendes says. “There are beautiful, thoughtfully curated shops, artisanal workshops, small wine bars, and cafés where every detail is considered, from ethical sourcing to honoring local traditions. The care and passion behind these spaces are inspiring.”Some favorites worth checking out include 50:50 Warehouse, a newly opened tableware, furniture and lamp shop Roberts loves; the architect-owned Moopi; and Traço Deluz, “for lighting modern, vintage and antique,” says Roberts.Barros calls out the concept shop Good Things, where you can find an assortment of curated garments and decor objects. She says that shopping is all about “strolling the streets and discovering absolute gems in unexpected places.“I recently discovered a place called Escovaria de Belomonte with exquisite handmade artisanal brushes and brooms,” Barros says. A final recommendation is the recently restored Bolhão Market. “This is one of the city’s most iconic places, a monument of public interest and a place which still beats in the heart of the people of Porto,” adds Barros, who shares that you can find everything here, from charcuterie to freshly made cheeses, just-harvested fruits and vegetables, and more. “With merchants still shouting from stall to stall or teasing the customers, its character is absolutely unique.”Where to Look at Art:Don’t miss the renowned Serralves museum, which is worth saving half a day for so you can properly explore the expansive installation-filled gardens, exhibitions, and film spaces.Barros and Roberts also recommend Miguel Bombarda Street for galleries. “Highlights for me include the Nuno Centeno Gallery (my favorite and arguably the city's best) and De La Espada,” says Barros.For live arts, check out Casa da Música and Rivoli before you come, adds Barros. “Their cultural calendars are noteworthy.”Where To Be in Nature:Nature is within easy grasp as long as you have a car in Porto. “Foz Beaches are beautiful,” Roberts shares. “For a perfect beach day, locals prefer Maceda—a surfer’s paradise. Matosinhos International Beach is popular for beginner surf schools, though often crowded and less charming.”She also recommends a stroll through Parque da Cidade for a calm escape without leaving the city. Then, “for a day trip, head to Passadiços do Paiva, Gerês, or the Minho coastline,” she says.Vineyards to Explore:The Douro Valley is a true gem of Portugal, and the region is rich with breathtaking offerings. “There are so many incredible wineries, it’s difficult to highlight just a few,” Barros says.Roberts’s favorite is Quinta da Pacheca, which you can walk to from the Six Senses Hotel and Spa.For Chef Mendes, the Douro Valley is not just a source of indulgence but inspiration. “One of the things I love most is how close to home this all feels—especially with Pra Lá, a project tied to wonderful friends who are also such an important part of our team,” he says. “Beyond that, there are so many winemakers I admire. Dirk Niepoort has been a dear friend and a true visionary in the industry. Then there’s the new wave of independent winemakers bringing fresh energy to Portuguese wine. Quinta da Costa do Pinhão and Quinta de Tourais are doing fantastic work in the Douro Valley, crafting wines that honor tradition while embracing innovation. Mateus Nicolau de Almeida is making wines that deeply reflect the land, and Vasco Croft of Aphros Wines has been pioneering biodynamic and natural winemaking, pushing boundaries in the best way. There’s a deep respect for tradition, but also a fearless curiosity that’s shaping the future of Portuguese wine.”Barros recommends booking visits in advance to ensure access. Some of her favorite vineyards include Quinta do Seixo, Quinta de Crasto, Quinta da Vallado, and Quinta do Bomfim.Where to Grab a Drink:“One of the places I go to is Fiasco,” says Barros, a sentiment also echoed by Roberts. “Here, you’ll find an artistic vibe,” Barros explains. “They have a resident DJ and an amazing vinyl collection (jazz, hip-hop, indie) with over 100 new and used albums by Luca Massolin, and an art gallery.”She also loves Candelabro for wine tastings and RCA, which has a “garden, live music, and serves mainly artisanal beer and wines.”Roberts suggests Capela Incomum for wine with friends. “It used to be a small church,” she explains, “Now, it’s a wine bar with a great selection and a great atmosphere.”Another nice option is a drink on the water. “Try the vibe-y Praia da Luz or Lapa Lapa bar in Foz,” Barros says.Where to Stay Up Late:If you want to keep the night going, both Barros and Roberts agree that there are a few key spots for those in the know. “Passos Manuel is a staple in Porto’s nightlife, managed by Becas, a legend in the nightlife scene,” says Roberts. “Maria’s—former DJ and now Passos curator—curated programming is always inspiring. Plano B is another great choice.”Barros also recommends Maus Hábitos and Pérola Negra for a nightcap.When to VisitDue to its temperate climate, Porto is a great option year-round. That said, “May and June are ideal for skipping rain and enjoying the outdoors,” Roberts notes.Barros suggests September and October, during which Douro Valley is in the grape harvest season. “At this time, besides tasting the many wines, you will witness workers in the fields and perhaps be lucky enough to participate in the winemaking process,” she says.Why“Porto has a fascinating interplay between old and new—long-standing traditions blending seamlessly with progressive ideas,” says Mendes. “You’ll find a centuries-old shop next to a bold, modern concept, and somehow, they coexist harmoniously. It’s that delicate tension between history and innovation that gives Porto its unique character.”This juxtaposition is worth traveling for. “And what’s even more special is that the people here—both locals and visitors—understand this essence of Porto,” he says. “They treasure it, and they work hard to preserve it.”Roberts agrees: “It’s the people,” she adds. “While the locals in Porto may not seem the warmest initially, they are genuine and incredibly friendly once they let you in.” Source link