#♕ ⁺ · samantha carpenter » threads .

[razedhell]

@webheadedhero liked for something from samantha carpenter !!

phone pressed between shoulder & ear, Sam continues to fold her laundry as Peter complains about a shirt he can’t find. she can hear him turning his apartment upside down on the other end of the line & she smiles to herself, more enamored by her nerd than she’s ready to acknowledge. brows raise when he asks the last time she’s seen it, beginning to describe what it looks like & her grin widens at a recent discovery, the exact article of clothing hanging from her in the reflection of her mirror. “ maybe you should give up . . . the shirt has clearly found a better body to wear it. ”

[razedhell]

@prosperae liked for something from Samantha Carpenter !!

dark eyes watch the other, wiping down the bar as the man crowds the female’s space & Sam huffs in annoyance before tossing the dirty rag with the others when she passes the box for washing. “ Jordan how many times do I have to toss you out the fucking door before you realize you’re not welcome here ? ” hands in her hips, she cuts him with a harsh glare that has the male walking away with his tail between his legs. waiting until he’s left the establishment, Sam softens her gaze when she turns to the other woman. “ you okay ? ”

[razedhell]

tags pt. 17 - samantha carpenter

[razedhell]

chin raises to meet his gaze as he crowds into her space, her own dark eyes narrowing -- he's dangerous, that much is evident & yet, she isn't afraid. heart beats against her chest, an adrenaline junkie through & through as a smirk curls her lips at his threat. " y'know, that's not the first time i've heard that, " a breath of a laugh in his face, head canting as she takes in the length of him & she almost hates how beautiful he is -- tall, dark, handsome & deadly, a combination the survivor may be weak to.

there's something here . . . he was in this alley for a reason -- the one behind the bar she works at & more pieces start to fall together. " it's you, isn't it . . . " brows furrow, finding his stare once more & tongue wets her lips. " i work hard for my tips, think you could stop going after my big spenders ? "

he likes a woman that can fight back. he isn't even angry at the shot to his face. instead, a smirk settles upon his lips as black eyes look at her. it's like a game to him & he doesn't like losing. one hand presses to the brick right next to her head as his other hand twitches in anticipation ⸻ blade in his sleeve is well hidden, but can be pulled whenever he desires it. his face is inches from hers & he wonders what she'd look like covered in blood.

brows raise like the answer is obvious & teeth click in response. at least she's pretty. ❛ you're not that stupid, are you, doll? ❜ in truth, billy doesn't care where this woman sticks her nose. he gets paid either way, but he can pretend to do his job. he could kill her so easily, wouldn't lose sleep over it either, but he doesn't. not yet. ❛ i'd hate to see anything bad happen to you. ❜ the threat is not lightly veiled & it comes off his tongue with ease: like he does this for a living [ which he might as well ].

[razedhell]

teeth show as her smile gets even bigger, the last shirt is neatly folded & Sam puts him on speaker before starting to put her clothes away. " i think this may be a case of quality over quantity . . . no mater how many years you've had the shirt, it simply looks better on me. " finally done, Sam settles on her bed & considers his question. the others are in class for the next couple hours & thankfully, she's off today. " i suppose i could squeeze you in. " her plans to relax in the apartment just got better. " so long as you bring over snacks. "

his movements stopped dead in their tracks when she uttered that, pressing his tongue against his cheek and breathing out a little laugh. " uh huh." he says, tilting his head to one side and holding the phone up with his head. " well, I'm not so sure that I believe that it looks better on you. I've had that shirt for a long time, after all..." rocking on his heels once, twice and then turning back to his closet to pull a different shirt out. as if he actually needed any kind of proof, it'd be more of a challenge to find a piece of clothing that didn't look good on her. even one of his--especially one of his, " there's clearly only one thing for me to do, I'm gonna have to come find out if it is better on you, if it's not....well, we'll cross that bridge if we get to it. you're not too busy for me to come over, are you?"