make cheese, not war // human au, jor

[Windowmemer]

JORMUNGAND

male — the Pitt — newblood — pinterest board

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OC TEXT

Spoiler:

  Eric Belanger faceclaim btw lol

IC TEXT

1970's New York. What a lovely place. Full of drugs, money and sex. He wasn't here for that, no. Well, maybe the drugs and money. The corner of his lips tilted up in a smirk and he rubbed a hand over his stubble. He was slightly stressed, it showed by the tensing of his muscles under his form-fitting suit, but he exhaled the cloud of smoke from the cigarette that was placed between his lips.

But first, the date. He wasn't sure who picked it, and how high they've been to set it up in this place, but fuck it. As long as the person he was meeting was cute, he didn't mind. He'd most likely be distracted, though. Gang shit was on his mind, but today was going to be the day he'd attack. Get that small part of this place under his control. Kill the other leader, what was his name... Ricardo? "Fucking stupid name." He muttered to himself, dropping the cigarette and stomping it out with a heeled boot.

He stopped at the entrance, brushing the dust off his suit jacket. Who the fuck picked this? At least he had a white shirt underneath it. He checked his pistols at his side, hidden safely. Check. Knives, check. Money, check. He took a deep breath, and pushed the door open with... a bit of force. It hit the opposite wall with a small bang, the sound of a pistol, and he smiled. "My bad." He lifted a shoulder, eyes scanning for his date. A waitress hurried over but he waved her off, shooting a flirty grin in her direction that made her blush red and look away.

Mouth returning to the hard pressing again, he finally located the female? No, zir back was towards him and ze seemed to be holding something large in zir's hand. He walked up to zir, brushing zir hair back and plucking the food- a mozzarella roll - out of zir hand and popping it into his mouth.

"Hello there, I believe you are my date for tonight?" His voice was soft, charming, uncaring about zir attitude and her boots on the table. Fuck manners. If ze didn't show any, he wouldn't too. He slid off his jacket and placed it on the back of his chair, unbuttoning the top three buttons of his collared shirt.

#psychosocial.