Lumpkinz11
Junior Member
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Realistic or Modern Socks and the City 1x1 RP w/ deadly king
- Thread starter Lumpkinz11
- Start date
Lumpkinz11
Junior Member
As I look in the mirror, I can’t help but smile. Tonight is about embracing everything that makes me, well, me - the bold, unabashed Samantha Jones. The city is alive with promise, and my trusty LBD (little black dress) awaits me, emphasizing every curve and leaving just enough to the imagination. After all, who said you can't have a little fun while stepping into a world of opportunity?
I spritz my favorite perfume - a sultry concoction of vanilla and sandalwood that whispers rather than shouts. The scent wraps around me like a lover's embrace. I check my reflection one last time, tousling my hair deliberately, because a little chaos goes a long way. A perfect Samantha-mane, if I do say so myself.
As I step into my heels, I can’t help but feel a thrill of excitement surge through me. The city is my playground, and tonight I plan to swing from the chandeliers. I grab my clutch - a glimmering piece that matches my personality - and head out the door. Central Park is fading into twilight, and it feels as if the entire city has dressed up just for me.
Cut to the bar: dim lighting, sleek furniture, and an air of sophistication that feels distinctly... New York. I take a seat and order my drink, allowing the bartender to admire me as I sip the enticing concoction. I survey the room with insatiable curiosity; there are couples whispering sweet nothings, groups of friends laughing wildly, and singles lurking with a mix of hope and desperation.
And then I see my friend, Carrie, tossing back a shot like it isn't just a Tuesday. And, I decide to join the party. Walking up alongside her, I can’t help but laugh, before I say in a deep voice, “Hey sexy, can I buy you a drink?”
As I take a sip from my glass, the smoky, rich flavor of the whiskey envelops my senses—much like my thoughts about Carrie. She's been a whirlwind in my life, a magnetic force that pulls me in even when logic screams for me to retreat. I lean back against the soft cushions, the weight of my past decisions pressing against my chest.
Here I am, a “Big” successful man in charge of my own destiny, yet I find myself feeling utterly lost when it comes to love. Carrie, with her chaotic life and whimsical ideas about romance, has a way of turning everything I thought I knew upside down. She's infuriating and enchanting all at once—the literary heart of the city that never sleeps.
But tonight, amid the swirling shadows of my favorite New York bar, I can't shake the reality of another presence that haunts my mind—him. The powerful man I can’t seem to escape from my thoughts. As much as I care for Carrie, there’s a part of me (though, a large part at that) that cares for him, possibly even more.
It feels strange to admit this, even to myself. I’ve built a life and reputation focused on high-powered business deals and relentless ambition. I thrive in boardrooms, maneuvering the landscape of finance with the precision of a seasoned chess player. Yet, here in the emotional labyrinth of my heart, the rules are different, and I find myself floundering.
He entered my life unexpectedly—an electrifying encounter at a charity gala. The way he moved through the crowded room, his presence commanding yet inviting, drew me like a moth to a flame. Our eyes met across the sea of faces, and for a brief moment, the world faded away. He approached with confidence, a smile that hinted at mischief and the promise of something deeper.
I sip my drink, chasing away the butterflies that come when I remember that damn smile.
Note: Will be written from a third POV from now on!
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deadly king
never fade away
The bar was a haven of subdued light and low murmurs, a place Nikolas hoped to ease the pains of a long day when the city’s constant thrum became too much. He was finally starting to feel like he belonged—no longer just the wide-eyed dreamer running errands or posing for boutique catalogs. Now, he was someone to notice, someone carving his way into the world of words and influence. Tonight, though, as he pushed open the wooden door and stepped into the warmth, his heart jolted in a way that had nothing to do with the drink he planned to order.
The man’s silhouette was unmistakable even in the bar’s haze — a frame that exuded quiet power and a presence that drew eyes without trying. It wasn’t just the sharp line of his suit or the way he leaned against the bar as if he owned the place. Nikolas froze in the doorway, his breath catching in his chest. He didn’t catch his name — hadn’t asked, hadn’t dared. It was a one-off encounter, a whirlwind of conversation and charged glances at a gala months ago. When the man had disappeared into the crowd, Nikolas thought that was the end of it.
The blond felt entirely unmoored, caught between the urge to turn and leave or to step forward and face the man who’d somehow taken up residence in his thoughts. Before he could second-guess himself, Nikolas moved. The familiar scent of the stranger's whiskey drink and his own leather jacket hit him as he slid onto the stool, his usual confidence tempered by the whirlwind in his chest.
"Couldn’t resist crashing your party," Nikolas said smoothly, tapping his fingers against the bar. "Seems like fate has a thing for messing with me." The faintest smile curved his lips. "Figured if fate brought us together, the least I could do is say hello." There was no way the older man had forgotten his face.
As Carrie adjusted her gold Manolos at the bar, she felt the familiar hum of the city’s energy coursing through her. The air inside was rich with possibility, the kind that made you believe anything could happen on a New York night. Her Cosmopolitan sat untouched before her—well, mostly untouched, save for a few indulgent sips as she surveyed the scene with her signature mix of curiosity and detachment. She was currently more interested in the two shots a "kind man" ordered her from somewhere in the crowd of people dancing. Free liquor was always free liquor.
The sleek, dimly lit bar was alive with conversation, laughter, and the occasional glance exchanged between strangers. It was a mosaic of stories waiting to be told, and Carrie, ever the writer, couldn’t help but mentally jot down snippets of inspiration: the woman in the corner trying too hard to look aloof, the man near the window exuding too much confidence for someone wearing socks with sandals.
But her musings were interrupted by the unmistakable sound of laughter — the kind that was unapologetically bold and familiar. And then, there she was: Samantha, striding toward Carrie like she owned not just the room, but the entire city.
Draped in a little black dress that clung to her curves like a second skin and glittering heels that screamed luxury. Her vanilla-sandalwood perfume announced her presence even before she leaned in, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. Carrie’s face lit up, the stress of her deadline melting away. "Samantha! What are you doing here? I didn’t think this was your scene -- too understated!"
Carrie laughed, closing the pack of cigarettes she hoped to smoke, and sliding it into her clutch. "You caught me. I’m supposed to be writing right now, but clearly, the cosmos had other plans. Seeing you just saved me from another hour of writer’s block and self-pity."
Lumpkinz11
Junior Member
“Carrie!” she cooed, her voice dripping with charisma as she leaned in, the playful smirk never leaving her lips. “What’s this? Writing? Don’t tell me you’ve traded your pen for that Cosmopolitan!” Samantha arched an eyebrow, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she chuckled at her quick joke.
A glance caught the eye of a gentleman at the bar, a slight nod in his direction drawing a playful grin from Samantha. Free liquor was indeed free liquor, but the real feast was the parade of personalities Samantha would encounter this evening, much like the high-end selections at the Gucci store—each person unique and with a tale waiting to unfold.
“Oh darling, you know me!” she continued, her tone light yet filled with a deeper understanding. “Life is too short for self-pity, especially when there’s fun to be had!” She flicked her hair back with a flourish, inviting the thrill of spontaneity into the air. “Let’s not waste time over some mundane deadline. The night is still young, and I have a feeling it’s about to get unapologetically fabulous!”
With a wink, she took the empty seat beside Carrie, her aura instantly lighting up the room around them. After all, if the city pulsed with possibility, Samantha was its heartbeat—ready to leap into the intoxicating rush of the night. Waving to the bartender, Samantha smiled and ordered a Cosmopolitan with “Extra of the good stuff!”
A glance caught the eye of a gentleman at the bar, a slight nod in his direction drawing a playful grin from Samantha. Free liquor was indeed free liquor, but the real feast was the parade of personalities Samantha would encounter this evening, much like the high-end selections at the Gucci store—each person unique and with a tale waiting to unfold.
“Oh darling, you know me!” she continued, her tone light yet filled with a deeper understanding. “Life is too short for self-pity, especially when there’s fun to be had!” She flicked her hair back with a flourish, inviting the thrill of spontaneity into the air. “Let’s not waste time over some mundane deadline. The night is still young, and I have a feeling it’s about to get unapologetically fabulous!”
With a wink, she took the empty seat beside Carrie, her aura instantly lighting up the room around them. After all, if the city pulsed with possibility, Samantha was its heartbeat—ready to leap into the intoxicating rush of the night. Waving to the bartender, Samantha smiled and ordered a Cosmopolitan with “Extra of the good stuff!”
From the dim, inviting corner of the bar, Mr. Big watched Nikolas as he entered, the evening light softly tracing the contours of the younger man’s form. The atmosphere seemed to shift subtly; the low hum of conversations faded into a dull echo, and time itself became elastic. It was no longer just a bar; it was a stage, and Nikolas had just stepped into the spotlight, his presence resonating through the smoky air with a vitality that was hard to ignore.
Mr. Big leaned back against the back of his chair, arms crossed, deliberately appearing casual though inside, his thoughts teetered on the edge of chaos. There was something about the way Nikolas carried himself, the evening light glimmering off his blond hair and the confident tilt of his chin. Each step toward him felt like a shockwave, stirring a mixture of admiration and something deeper, something he fought to keep buried under layers of carefully cultivated aloofness.
As the younger man paused, a moment of tension hung in the air as their eyes met. There was too much at stake; a part of him wanted nothing more than to step forward, wrap an arm around those slender shoulders, and claim him, while another whispered sternly to maintain distance, to remain the elusive figure that hovered at the edges of Nikolas’s reality.
‘Ah Nikolas, always with the theatrics,’ he thought. Mr. Big couldn’t suppress the ghost of a smile as he contemplated the younger man’s bravado. On one hand, he was impressed by Nikolas's willingness to approach; on the other, he recognized the reckless abandon behind that decision. Did Nikolas realize the metaphorical minefield they were navigating? Did he understand the gravity of stepping into Mr. Big’s orbit?
Yet, as grueling as such thoughts were, they couldn’t overshadow the enchantment Nikolas wielded like a spell. He resented himself for feeling so captivated when he had vowed to stay aloof, to keep his feelings incubated beneath a veneer of indifference. He had managed to dismiss others in his past, to keep them safely at arm's length, and here he was now, captivated by an unexpected ideal.
Mr. Big took a deep breath to steady himself, his usual facade beginning to falter under the weight of Nikolas’s gaze. “Fate, huh?” he mused, adopting a nonchalant tone that veiled the intensity simmering just beneath the surface. Sipping his drink, he eyed Nikolas, waiting patiently for him to take his turn at the chess game between them.
