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Two to Tango vibes;
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR464rhD/
I totally forgot about the fic until I saw this, so now I'm gonna go reread it!!
Love that this made you think about it! Speaking of tik toks with vibes, check this one. You should follow my author account!
Also, sorry you won't be able to re-read it but I just sent my manuscript to the editor so we are on our way to publishing this book in 2023!!!
ICHOR
Part 2 - POV Pedro
WARNING: 18+, alcohol, desire, sexual references, hint at human harm, slight angst (I guess?)
Pairing: mafia!Pedro x OFC
Wordcount: 4.1K
Note: Not betad all mistakes are my own. Alright, I've been continuously planning on this story and concluded it will be a slow burner. Stuff will take time with this series, but I might as well put a future warning for this series: it will contain a lot of 18+ stuff, like drugs, alcohol, violence, murder, blood, sex and so on and so forth. So bear with me as we build this thing up.
Also, I appreciate you guys, you're the best 💛
Part 1 | ... | Part 3 | Part 4
Masterlist
He wasn’t interested in being there that night. He had other things to tend to, especially after the Water Lilly gang had tried to stop the import of exotic cigars and whiskey. They had almost succeeded hadn’t he instructed the drivers to arm themselves two weeks in advance.
There was a reason Pedro was on top, the fearless boss no one dared to touch. He was as good at reading his surroundings and the people within it as he was staying impeccably dressed - no one outmatched him on either. Rumours quickly spread that he could see into the future, which he found amusing, but were far from the truth, he simply had a rough childhood; always looking over his shoulder and seeing the devil in the details.
It was Mr. Ruiz – the capo for south-east side of the city – who suggested the club. Pedro barely remembered putting money into the place, but then again, he didn’t really care where it went, as long as it would turn to a profit, which it did. It was Ruiz who had asked for investment in the place, back when it was an empty waste of space and turned it completely around – the most lucrative club in the city.
Pedro was lost in thoughts, trying to figure out how to get back at the Water Lilly gang for their transgression. They knew to stay off those trucks, yet their greedy disgusting little hands had reached for his goods and taken out some fine men too. He wanted to hit them hard and as he swirled the liquor around his glass, contemplating if he was to just raid their base or just take out some men in return, the crowd begun to cheer and clap.
Mr. Ruiz, who had been babbling with too much alcohol in his blood and the one person Pedro wished had shut up during his occupied mind, rose to his feet applauding. Pedro lifted his head, dragging his eyes up from the golden content of his glass to see what had made the crowd go wild. It didn’t take long though, as a mysterious caped form had stepped onto the stage. It intrigued him as he placed his glass on the table, hand still wrapped around the crystal.
He let out a long exhale when the figure reached up and pulled off the hood over its head, revealing the face of an angel, at least that’s what he thought when his eyes snapped from her plump lips to her rich brown eyes. He had never seen such beauty before and this woman on stage with this almost sad face, had pulled him into something that felt foreign yet warm.
He breathed through parted lips as her eyes wandered across the room where she met his gaze. For the first time he felt vulnerable, even though he was probably the deadliest in the room. His grip loosened around his glass as she continued to hold her eyes. He didn’t even flinch as she pulled at the string of the cape and it flowed down, revealing the most sinful body to walk this earth.
His mind felt numb once she finally had looked away from him and begun her performance. He couldn’t help his eyes wandering her form, taking in each curve, dip and fold as she moved around. He tried hard to ignore the pressure he felt in his groin while watching her. It was the animalistic side of him trying to get out, but he supressed his urges to stay respectful of her performance. He knew her dancing and clothing were to provoke such impulses, he wasn’t ignorant, but his mother had taught him better; if you ever want to be a man, you treat every woman in your life with respect. He could still hear her voice echo the sentence in his head.
He let go of his glass and leaned forward in his seat, trying desperately to meet her eyes once more. He wanted to feel that foreign sensation again. When they finally met, his heart skipped a beat before slamming into his ribcage several times. The warmth spread across his chest as he dragged his fingers through his curly hair and held her gaze as she twisted and turned around on stage. He felt almost honoured that this woman would stay connected with him as she danced.
He didn’t take his eyes off her until she finished her performance and left the stage. As soon as she was gone, he felt empty and a slight chill went through his veins. He grabbed his glass and took a sip, letting the liquid burn down his throat to feel some warmth again.
Mr. Ruiz slumped down on the chair with a disgusting grin on his face. He had loosened his tie and taken off his jacket during the performance, which Pedro has missed entirely being pulled into her beautiful gaze. Ruiz downed his glass and let out a rumbly chuckle.
“What a piece of meat, huh boss?” He bumped his elbow a few times on Pedro’s arm.
His brows furrowed deeply as he turned to look at Ruiz with a deadly stare. “Piece of meat?” He echoed to him in a low growl.
Mr. Ruiz shrunk in his seat as he saw Pedro’s eyes turn darker by the second. “I-I mean…” A tremble went through his body as he lost all words in his vocabulary.
“Piece of meat…” Pedro turned his head away from Ruiz, feeling disgusted by his presence, and swirled his whiskey around in the glass. He let out a sigh and looked over his shoulder to grab the attention of one of his guards standing by. The guard walked up to him and bent down to head level with Pedro. “Take Mr. Ruiz home, let him sober up ‘til the next morning, then I want you and two more to remind Mr. Ruiz that women are not pieces of meat.” His voice was low as he spoke it into the guard’s ear. “And have Mr. Miller pick me up in fifteen.”
He rose to his feet, straightened his suit and picked up his coat. He turned to look down at Mr. Ruiz, who still sat small and shaking in his chair. Pedro gave him a reassuring smile, which didn’t help the trembling, but gave him hope that perhaps his boss was feeling forgiving for his choice of words. “I believe it’s best you get some rest, Mr. Ruiz. The alcohol has obviously gone to your head and you are in no state to have a civilised conversation with. I have asked this man to take you home.” Pedro gestured to the broad man standing behind him. “Sleep well, Mr. Ruiz.”
~
Pedro stood still in front of the wooden door with the words “changing room” on. The A and the second O were almost completely scraped off. He probably shouldn’t have been there, intruding upon her space right after a show, but he had to see her, to share just a moment alone with her.
He knocked softly on the wood three times, waiting to be invited in. His eyes widened at her sweet voice vibrating through the door, it sent a shiver down his spine. He pushed the door slowly open and found her standing in front of a mirror, brushing her hair.
“Good evening, miss. I hope I don’t disturb.”
He noticed her eyes widened at his manifestation, he didn’t know if it was out of surprise or fear, which he didn’t like, not knowing. She put her hairbrush down and turned to him, he watched her assess him, waiting for her to speak up, whether it was to reject his presence or let him stay.
“No, you’re not.” She sounded nervous, but he couldn’t help but see a hint of curiosity in her eyes as he held it.
He took a step in and closed the door behind him as to not be disturbed. He just hoped she wouldn’t feel trapped as he did so. He noticed the chair next to him and put down his coat on top before taking a step closer. He could smell her sweet floral perfume from where he stood. He inhaled slowly, trying not to make it apparent he was taking in her scent. It made his head almost swim and he swore he could stay there forever, inhaling her perfume and admire her beauty.
He lowered his head at her, mostly out of habit when he first meets someone. “My name is Pedro Pascal and this is my first time coming to this place. I must say your performance was captivating. The rumours about your dance were insignificant compared to actually seeing it.” He said truthfully, because it was indeed a delightful performance.
“Your words are too kind, mister Pascal.”
His ears perked up as she said his name. It had a pleasant tone to it, which made him faintly smile as he straightened up to look down at her.
“I must admit it is surprising to hear this is your first time here, I thought you owned the club.”
For a split second he wanted to furrow his brows, until he found her words somewhat humorous. “Yes, I suppose.” He smirked thoughtfully. She didn’t seem intimated by him after all, which made him lower his shoulders just a little. “But I am a busy man, I own a lot of businesses around town. I can assure you I have probably not been to half of them before.”
She chuckled at his remark and it made his heart flutter. So soft and innocent, he wanted to touch her, but knew if he did for too long, it might corrupt her.
“I hope I don’t intrude on your time off, miss?” Her name, he wanted her name. He wanted to see how she pronounced it, how she sounded and then he wanted to taste it on his own lips, like she had tasted his.
“Rose, Rose Miller.”
“Rose.” Her name was perfect. It matched her rosy cheeks, warm aura and that sweet floral perfume of hers. “That’s a beautiful name you have, Rose.” He had another taste of it and he loved it.
He took a step closer to her, not knowing why, but something drew him to her, but the atmosphere in the room immediately changed. He saw the sweetness in her eyes turn to fear and her smile that once painted her plump beautiful lips faded. He furrowed his brows, not knowing if he had stepped too close to her, if he had perhaps pushed his luck a bit too far.
“Is everything okay, Rose? You seem…” He noticed the warmth of her skin had faded and her once rosy cheeks were now – “Pale.”
She leaned back on the table behind her. “Oh, I am terribly sorry, mister Pascal, I am just…” Her eyes darted around his face in panic. “Drained from the performance.”
Lies. He wanted to confront her of it, that he knew her lips were not speaking the truth, but he also knew he had no right. He knew it had to do with him, but he was not going to push it. He knew she was aware of his position in this city, which could be intimidating enough in itself, but to share such a small space with him alone – she had strength within her to stay grounded on her feet, which only made him want to know her more.
He nodded, trying to cool down the slight disappointment and anger rushing through his veins from her lie. “Then, miss Rose, I wouldn’t want to occupy your time and keep you from getting home. But before I go.” He lifted his hand to pull out his personal card.
He pulled it out and noticed her flinch at his movement. His heart dropped at her reaction, but he didn’t blame her. “It’s just a paper card, miss Rose.” He tried to assure her there was nothing dangerous with it before handing it over. “I would like to invite you to do a more private performance at my place next Saturday. I know it is a working day for you here, but I have arranged for someone else to come instead. I will of course pay you should you choose to come.”
She took the card from his hand and he was disappointed that their fingers didn’t touch. He had to feel her, just a small graze would be enough.
“It is optional for you to come of course. If you choose not to perform, just take the day off. I will make sure you are paid none the less, so you don’t feel pressured.” It was important to him that she didn’t feel threatened to come, that this was entirely optional.
She glanced from him to the card, inspecting it and he waited patiently. Looking at her delicate fingers feel the card and flip it over. He breathed a little heavier watching her read his full name on the card, watching her lips slightly move as she recited it within her head.
He wanted to touch her so badly, to feel her skin and see if it was as soft as it looked. He had said everything he had to and now was the perfect time to say goodbye in the most old fashioned way, but a way he loved to part as it gave him the opportunity to not only show his respect for her, but also let him feel her. He reached out his hand with his palm up and watched the confusion spread across her face. He couldn’t help the amusement he felt when he saw her. “Your hand, miss Rose. If you please.”
With a trembling hand, she placed her hand in his and his heart was enveloped by pure warmth. She was soft, oh so soft, and delicate, like a little bird resting in the sun. He placed his thumb on top of her fingers to get a better grip on her and the shakes in her hand were gone. It delighted him to see it and he bent down, leading her hand to his lips and softly pressed them down at the back of her hand. He had to close his eyes as he revelled on the warmth he felt on his lips once he touched her. His head swam as her scent were stronger, seeping through his nostrils and playing with his senses. He could hear the silent gasp leave her mouth and he fought hard to not let a teasing smirk grow on his lips.
He straightened up and watched the warmth had returned to her cheeks and her shoulders were no longer tense. There was a smile playing with her lips and for a moment – just a very small moment – he imagined kissing them, but he quickly pushed the thought away. He didn’t want to let go of her, but knew if he held on, she might find it uncomfortable, and he regrettably let go. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Rose.”
He turned around and picked up his coat. He reached for the door and looked over his shoulder with a faint smirk on his lips. “I truly hope to see you next Saturday. It would be an honour to have you as a guest at my house.” He bowed his head at her before leaving the room, closing the door behind him. He begged within himself that she would show up.
~
Pedro sat still behind his mahogany desk, listening to his capos discuss their next move to broaden their reach outside the city. Although he heard every word that was said, his mind was occupied by a pair of dark brown eyes, rosy cheeks and floral smells. He saw her fluid movements on stage, tantalising him, luring him, begging him to seek her out. He could almost smell her perfume and for a moment he closed his eyes just to see her clearly in his head.
“What do you say boss?”
His eyes snapped open and they wandered across the men standing in the room with him. He must have missed the last part, but he was not going to admit it, mostly because this was a first for him. They expected him to listen, to understand and then either agree or disagree with them.
Pedro looked over at Federico – his right hand man – and rose an eyebrow at him. Taking the hint immediately, Federico stood up from his chair and stepped over to the side of the desk. Turning to speak to the other men in the room, he straightened his jacket and scanned the room, making sure everyone was listening.
“I believe the best option is to go straight through to them, instead of taking a detour. If we can own the road, no one can stop us. We’ll start furthest away and squeeze them closer to the city, entrapping them and forcing them to do as we say.” He begun to explain and the men in the room listened intently. “We don’t want any attention on this, so make sure to keep the body count to a minimum. If the Water Lilly gang finds out we’re eating up their territory, this might turn ugly pretty fast. Set up a date as soon as possible and claim it within a night.” Federico crossed his arms and puffed his chest out. “Now leave, this meeting is over. Any questions and you take them with me. Nothing is to be done until I say we’re ready.”
The men in the room, as if on cue, spoke in unison. “Inigualable, indiviso, inflexible.” They scrambled out of the room, leaving Pedro and Federico alone.
Pedro let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. He was already exhausted from the meeting and he had barely said anything. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes shut, feeling a slight headache coming in.
The sound of liquid being poured made him open his eyes and look at Federico standing by the side table, pouring two glasses of whiskey. He sauntered over to the desk and placed one of the glasses in front of Pedro. “What’s occupying your mind?” He asked as he sat down in the chair on the other side of the desk.
He glanced at the golden liquid. “Wondering what to do with the Water Lilly gang for touching our goods.”
Federico snorted and Pedro snapped his eyes at him with a stern look. “Forgive me, Pedro, but I’ve known you long enough to know that’s not what’s occupying your mind. There’s something more personal.”
He tilted his head back, exhaled deeply and looked back at him with a softer expression. “Her name is Rose.” He said, not willing to give up too much, but knowing Federico, he would get just enough information to give some advice to clear his mind.
Federico leaned forward in his chair, interest peaking at his ears. “Rose, huh? It wouldn’t be the woman Mr. Ruiz made a comment about?”
“Perhaps.”
Federico couldn’t help but chuckle at his vagueness. “Figured as much, cerdito was a drunken mess.” Pedro narrowed his eyes at Federico. “Which of course doesn’t excuse his comment.” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Although they had been friends and business partners for a long time, Pedro knew how to dominate anyone he interacted with, which sometimes made him nervous. “I heard he had a pretty bad fall down a flight of stairs the other day.”
“That’s what happens when you’re not careful.” Pedro hadn’t even given it a second thought when he first told the guard to take care of him. He supposed he was too occupied thinking of Rose, trying desperately to have a reason for her to come to him.
Federico took a sip from his drink. “I must say it was kind of you to let him live.”
“He might have overstepped, but there was no reason for me to have him killed. He is good at what he does, but he needs to control his alcohol intake.”
Federico rose an eyebrow at him. “To be a man relying a lot on import and export of alcohol, you sure are not a fan of it.”
Pedro reached forward and picked up the whiskey filled glass. He turned it around in his hand and looked at the content. “It’s not about the alcohol, Federico. It’s about the people consuming it. With the right amounts, it can be a party, but with too much, it can turn to a bloodshed.” He guided the glass to his lip and took a sip as he held Federico’s curious gaze. The liquid burned down his throat. “There’s a difference.” A smile played on his lips as he placed the glass down again.
Federico smirked back at him and took a gulp from his whiskey before setting the glass down on the desk. “Now, tell me about her.”
Pedro leaned back in his chair, fingers interlaced and resting in his lap. His eyes wandered the ceiling, thinking back at her beauty. “Divine.” He murmured as he saw her face. The image trailed down her body and blood began to rush to his groin. “Sinful.” He sighed as her seductive curves played in his mind.
“That says a lot and nothing at the same time.” Federico chortled. “So, I assume that you spoke with her when you were at the bar?”
Pedro mentally slapped himself, reminding himself to not think this way of her, but it was hard – very hard. “Yes, I spoke with her after her performance. When I first entered the room alone with her, she seemed fine, nothing out of the ordinary, but halfway through our conversation, everything shifted. She seemed uncomfortable.” The memory made him upset, he never wanted to make her tense.
“Hmm… what were you talking about then?”
He thought back at it. “She had just told me her name.”
“Full name?”
Pedro nodded, remembering the sting of fear in her eyes.
Federico hummed in amusement and leaned forward in his chair. “Pedro, put two and two together. She just handed her own identity to the most dangerous man in this city. I too would be nervous if I didn’t want to be on the radar of a man like you.”
Pedro rubbed his chin thoughtfully. As his words settled in, he rubbed his eyes in annoyance, more of the fact that he didn’t even think about it. He had never shown interest like this in a woman before. Yes, he was always polite to every woman he met, but Rose, she was someone he actually wanted to seek more time with.
“Yeah, you know what I am talking about. How did it go after that? Was it still uncomfortable?”
“It was.” He said, thinking back at him finally touching her. “Until I asked for her hand, she gave it to me and I kissed it, saying my farewell. When I looked up at her again, she seemed almost…”
“Smitten?”
“Yes.” He admitted, thinking back at her soft eyes and kind smile.
Federico chuckled and leaned back. “Well, with the charm you ooze, no wonder.”
“I invited her to my place next Saturday.”
His eyes widened slightly in surprise as he looked at Pedro. “And what did she say?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. I just assured her there was no pressure for her to come.” He didn’t know if it was a good sign or a bad sign that she hadn’t said anything to his offer. He was just glad he had managed to turn the tight atmosphere to something calmer.
Federico nodded as he reached for his drink and downed it all in one go. “Well, do as you want to Pedro.” He rose to his feet and looked down at him. “Just know that even though you’re as untouchable as a man can get, remember that the people around you are not.” He took the glass with him as he left Pedro’s office.
Pedro watched the door close behind Federico. He leaned back in his chair and dragged his hand over his face, feeling tired, annoyed and a sting of conflict within himself. He propped his elbow up on the arm rest and rubbed his temple, trying to soothe the lingering headache. He knew Federico was right, but the thought of having to not seek her out was numbing in his head. All he had thought about the past two days was her. It was dangerous, he knew, to let his mind slip so easily, but the pull he felt towards her was too much. It was like a craving he needed to satisfy.
(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)
@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @ah-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44
ICHOR
Part 1 - POV Rose
WARNING: 18+, alcohol, smoking, sexual references
Pairing: mafia!Pedro x OFC
Wordcount: 2.5K
Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own. Been thinking on this for a while and here we are. This is supposed to be a 2 part story, but the more I write in my notes the longer it becomes, so it might turn longer. (Future warning, there will be blood and smut in future part(s).)
... | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
Masterlist
Rose peeked between the golden curtains, scanning the filled tables and chairs. The only empty space in front of her was the stage she was soon to appear on. Men dressed in suits, with their hats resting on the tables and eyes drinking in the lovely ladies walking around, serving liquor and cigars. Rose knew all the men were tied to the mafia in one way or another, but she knew they weren’t at the bottom of the food chain, as you had to be someone in order to get into this club; The Golden Monkey.
Far in the back of the room, through the smoke and whispers, sat a man silently eyeing his own drink. He was swirling the liquor around in the glass while another man next to him were talking and waving his arms around. His brows were furrowed deep, as if he was lost in thought and a stray lock of a curl rested on his forehead. What drew her attention to the man was his royal blue suit. Even from across the room she could see the quality was ten times greater than any of the other men.
“I heard he would come tonight.”
Rose jumped and spun around to face the man who would play the soft piano music while she performed. He was hovering right behind her, with hands in his pockets and a peering look in his eyes.
Rose furrowed her brows. “Who?”
“The man himself, owner of the club and over half the city. Although he doesn’t seem too happy to be ‘ere.” The man added and turned to walk over to the piano on the side.
He was wearing a worn suit with no jacket. Of course, he didn’t need to be dressed for the occasion, as he would be behind the curtains. This show was all about showing and not listening. The runner of the club didn’t initially want any music as everyone came to stare, but Rose had insisted as she needed something to move with. Music to Rose was vital for her to perform.
“His thoughts seem occupied.” She mumbled as she turned around to peek one last time at the man.
Of course, how couldn’t she have known who he was, but then again; she tried to stay away from those kinds of men altogether. It wasn’t easy though, as most men were in this business - if you could even call it that. That’s what they called it at least, business. Since when was stealing, threatening, torturing and killing business?
Rose had heard many stories of people being harassed or killed by the very men who sat in this club. Or perhaps they had someone beneath them to do the dirty work. She couldn’t imagine the pain people went through if they stepped on anyone’s toes within their group. Hell would break loose and no matter how far you would run, you would pay for overstepping. She knew this, because her uncle had been skimming off the top over in Chicago. The Chicago Outfit found out and made a little visit to his home where he was killed. That’s when my mother had the last straw and moved to the great New York instead.
“Well, he certainly won’t be occupied when you enter the stage.” The man said and sat down on the stool.
Rose turned around and crossed her arms. “Watch it.” She growled. Her brows furrowed deeper when she saw his eyes stare at her exposed cleavage in the opening of her hooded cape. She snapped her fingers at him.
“Nothin’ wrong about starin’, honey. I ain’t touchin’ ‘em.” He said in a mocking tone.
She rolled her eyes. “Just play the piano and we can get this over with.”
He shrugged, gave her body one last look before fully turning to the piano.
Rose stepped up to the curtain and made sure her cape was fully closed and her heels securely on. She took a deep breath before pulling the hood over her head and hiding everything except her long dark locks hanging outside the cape. She felt nervous. She hadn’t been nervous in a long time, but this time, it got to her, knowing the most powerful man in the city would watch her, or perhaps he would still be too deep in thought. She hoped for the latter.
She took a step forward. As soon as her foot touched the floor an applause followed. Once she had stepped forth from behind the curtains, the applause grew. She let the claps lower before she slowly reached up and pushed off the hood, revealing her face. The applause grew again with whistles and glasses slamming on the tables. Her face stayed expressionless, almost distant. Her eyes wandered to the back of the room where the owner had put down his glass. He was still holding onto it while looking at her, his dark brown eyes staring into her gaze. Her heart thumped a little harder.
She managed to hold his gaze as she reached up once more and pulled at the only string keeping the cape up. Once pulled, the cape slid down with a hush and pooled at her feet, showing off her golden halter bodysuit with a golden sheer cape skirt. The room ruptured in applause, howling, whistling and cheering, but his eyes stayed with her.
She slowly stepped forward to the middle of the stage, her cape skirt flowed behind her with each echo of her heels. The room silenced as she stood still and the piano begun to hum delightful tones for her body to move with. As she begun to move, her mind drifted and she stepped into her own little bubble as she swayed her body around. She always disappeared into herself, ignoring the prying and hungry eyes boring into her curves. She was the reason they had come here tonight, to be taken away by her dance and fill their heads with obscene thoughts and illusions. It didn’t bother her anymore as she had grown numb to it.
Halfway through her performance, her eyes wandered to the back once more and he was still looking. This time he had let go of the glass and was leaned forward in his chair. Their eyes immediately locked and she knew he wasn’t staring at her body, but rather her face. He held her gaze as she continued to move around, but no matter how she twisted, swayed and turned, he would only look at her face. At one point she almost forgot her next move as he dragged his fingers through his hair as he watched intently.
The small sown in stones decorating her bodice twinkled under the warm lights. Her performance would soon end and she could return to the small changing room to breathe easier. The pressure of his eyes on her were starting to burn her core. The feeling of being watched by such a powerful man had made her body quiver with fear and excitement.
She finished with the final stretched out pose, letting it sear into their minds for the rest of the night. The piano stilled and the whole room ruptured. It almost deafened her and all she could see was his dark brown eyes.
She walked back and through the curtains. As soon as she was away from the greedy eyes, she breathed out. It felt like she had been holding her breath the whole time. The piano man stared at her with a smirk while lighting up a cigarette. She frowned before turning away and walk towards the changing room.
She closed the door behind her and slid down on the floor. She felt tired, worn out and empty. It was like this after every show, no energy to do anything. Perhaps she was lying to herself, perhaps every time she drifted off while performing, she was actually hiding herself from the disgusting gazes from the men watching her.
She took a deep breath and pushed herself up to her feet. She walked over to the big oval mirror hanging on the mirror and looked at herself. Would her mother be proud? She knew at least her mother would be happy that she was safe.
She picked up her hairbrush and stroked it against her hair. A sigh left her lips and she closed her eyes. She feeling of having her hair brushed, brought her back to when she was a child sitting on the floor with her mother behind her. She would be gentle with her hair and take the time needed until it was silky smooth. A smile grew on her lips as she begun to hum the lullaby her mother used to sing for her.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Rose stopped mid stroke and glanced at the door in the reflection of the mirror. “Come in.” She said while keeping her eyes on the door. It carefully opened and her eyes widened at the figure in the doorframe.
“Good evening, miss. I hope I don’t disturb.”
Their gaze met in the mirror and her heart thumped at the sight of those brown eyes. She finished the stroke in her hair and carefully placed the brush on the table in front of her. She turned around and her eyes wandered down his blue suit to his shiny black shoes. She gulped as her eyes wandered up again to meet his gentle eyes.
“No, you’re not.” She murmured. She could feel her stomach coil at the sight of him. He oozed confidence, but then again, that’s probably something you needed if you had over half the city working for you.
He stepped forward and closed the door behind him. He placed his dark brown coat on a chair next to him and took a step closer to her. He bowed his head at her. “My name is Pedro Pascal and this is my first time coming to this place. I must say your performance was captivating. The rumours about your dance were insignificant compared to actually seeing it.”
His words made her lips part and breathe just a little bit heavier. “Your words are too kind, mister Pascal.”
He rose his head and straightened out his spine as he gazed down at her kindly.
“I must admit it is surprising to hear this is your first time here, I thought you owned the club.” She admitted. She would have thought he would have been here at least once or twice before.
“Yes, I suppose.” He smirked thoughtfully. “But I am a busy man, I own a lot of businesses around town. I can assure you I have probably not been to half of them before.”
She chuckled at his remark.
“I hope I don’t intrude on your time off, miss?”
“Rose, Rose Miller.”
“Rose.” He tasted her name on his tongue and it sent a spark flying through her core. “That’s a beautiful name you have, Rose.”
He took a step closer and a sudden realisation of who she was actually sharing space with at the moment hit her. He was a gangster, a mafia boss, he was at the very top of the food chain and she had given him her full name without a second thought. She had even been stupid enough to give him her own thoughts about his first time here. He could simply snap his fingers and wipe her away as if she never existed.
A dread washed over her and the smile that lingered on her lips slowly faded away. He noticed the change in her and furrowed his brows in confusion.
“Is everything okay, Rose? You seem…” He scanned her face. “Pale.”
She gulped and looked up at him. She was leaning on the table for support, thinking what she could say to not get on his bad side. “Oh, I am terribly sorry, mister Pascal, I am just…” Quick, think, Rose! “Drained from the performance.” Perfect!
He nodded understandably. “Then, miss Rose, I wouldn’t want to occupy your time and keep you from getting home. But before I go.” He reached into the inside of his suit jacket.
Rose gulped and embraced herself for what he was about to pull out. She flinched when his hand appeared again.
He scanned her face in confusion. “It’s just a paper card, miss Rose.” He reassured her and handed it over to her. “I would like to invite you to do a more private performance at my place next Saturday. I know it is a working day for you here, but I have arranged for someone else to come instead. I will of course pay you should you choose to come.”
She took the small crisp white card from him and looked at the black ink pressed onto the fibres of the card.
“It is optional for you to come of course. If you choose not to perform, just take the day off. I will make sure you are paid none the less, so you don’t feel pressured.”
She looked up at him and then down at the card again. She flipped it over and his full name was scribbled in dark red ink; José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal.
He held out his hand, palm up. She looked up at him confused. “Your hand, miss Rose. If you please.”
Her heart thumbed faster again. With slight trembles in hand, she placed her hand in his. Once she felt his warm skin grasp her hand, the trembles stopped and a warmth enveloped her core. He bent down and rose her hand to his lips. He gently pressed them against the back of her hand and a silent gasp left her lips at his soft touch. Her nostrils were filled with a musky and spicy scent that sent her heart fluttering. She closed her eyes briefly, taking in his aroma and she couldn’t help but feel her lips twitch into a pleasant smile. Oh god, he smells good. Oh. My. God. He smells good. Her lips slightly parted as her cheeks turned warm.
He straightened up and let go of her hand. She immediately felt empty, almost cold. He scanned her face with a smirk. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Rose.” He turned around and went over to pick up his coat. He opened the door and looked back at her. “I truly hope to see you next Saturday. It would be an honour to have you as a guest at my house.” He dipped his head before leaving the room, closing the door behind him.
Rose took a deep breath as she felt the linger of his touch at her hand. She could hear her own heart thump in her chest at what had happened. She turned around and leaned forward on the table. She rose her head to look at herself and was horrified at her flaming red cheeks. She lowered her head and looked at the white card on the table.
José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal.
(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know.)
TAG: @cynic-spirit
ICHOR
Part 4 - POV Pedro
WARNING: 18+, sexual reference, light flirting, mention of self defence, angst, rough handling, jealousy, mention of blood
Pairing: mafia!Pedro x OFC
Wordcount: 2.8K
Note: Not betad all mistakes are my own.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...
Masterlist
Pedro had to extend his confident steps to keep up with Rose. He found it fascinating how her determination of getting somewhere made people step to the side, but he was rather hoping it would be a peaceful and enjoyable walk, rather than a race to get to her friend’s place. He wasn’t sure if she was upset with him for asking to walk with her, or if perhaps she was one of those who got angry when they hadn’t eaten; he was hoping for the latter.
He quickly realised her steps had quickened, her heels clicking hard against the pavement in a speedy rhythm. Not wanting to lose time with her, he grabbed her arm, making sure not to press too hard around her delicate flesh. He couldn’t help but feel a slight spark as he touched her.
She stopped in her tracks, chest slightly heaving as she slowly turned to look at him, almost confused. He swore he could drown in those eyes; he would have embraced it like a warm bath. The strain in her face slowly faded as he held her gaze and he felt the tension in her muscle relax under his fingers.
“Is everything okay, Rose?” He asked, his eyes darting between her eyes before taking a step closer, brows slightly down. He noticed a slight upward twitch of her lips and he loosened his grip on her arm, gently stroking his thumb back and forth soothingly.
“Yes, I’m just-” She cut off mid-sentence, as if she suddenly realised something, but her features stayed calm, beautiful, perfect.
He noticed the goosebumps form on her skin as a cold breeze blew between them and he noticed her rosy perfume drift past him. It was barely there, but it was enough to make his lips stretch up into a pleasant smile. “Cold?”
His smile grew wider as she beamed up at him with a slight spark in her eyes. It felt like the world stood still as she looked at him, he wished they could stay like this forever. Snapping himself back to reality, he slid off his coat and draped it around her shoulders, making sure it was securely resting on her before letting go. “Better?”
He swore his heart burst when she looked up at him with the cutest smile he had ever seen. She nodded at him. “Yes.” She mumbled and god he wanted to just grab her perfect waist and pull her close to him, just to have her against him, but he knew better, and for some reason, he felt like she wouldn’t appreciate it if he did it.
He gestured in front of him, and with a slightly calmer pace this time, they strolled down the sidewalk together, people parting to the side to make way for them.
As they ambled, he couldn’t help but think back at their meeting in the bakery. Her behaviour was somewhat odd, as if she was afraid of his presence. He probably shouldn’t have gone in, he probably should have let her be alone, but seeing her in that beautiful day dress – perfectly sown to show off curves, he couldn’t help himself. He had been constantly thinking about her since their first meeting, her rosy cheeks and perfect lips and – and…
He glanced down at her as he walked next to her, watching her hair bounce on her shoulders and back with the golden hues of the sun shining in her locks, but no smile lingering on her lips, which was somewhat disappointing. He wondered if perhaps he had gone a bit too far and that the only reason he was walking with her now, was because she felt like she didn’t have any other choice. He did, after all, push a bit to spend time with her.
“Rose?” He carefully began, her head turning to glance at him with questioning eyes. “Did you say yes because you felt like you had to, or because you wanted to?”
As soon as the question was asked, she turned her head away, her hair falling to the side and masking her face. He wanted to reach out and brush the hair away, just to see her face expression as she thought about his query.
She didn’t answer or look back at him, and concern grew in his chest. “You don’t have to answer that.” He mumbled, keeping his gaze straight forward, his eyes lingering somewhere far in the distance against a tall brick building.
“I do really like that bakery.” She mumbled and he looked down at her, surprised to meet her kind eyes. He smiled down at her. “I also like Mr. Abrams, he is a wonderful man.”
He didn’t like that last comment. He had heard the bakers disgusting attempt at flirting with her and he was at the brink of having the man shot where he stood, but quickly realised that she didn’t belong to him, and therefore he had no right to step on the men who tried to get with her. But he didn’t like it one bit. It was even more painful when she had giggled at his pathetic attempt at seducing her, playing along with his flirtatious behaviour. It even cracked at his heart seeing her so beautiful and hearing her soft laughter, and it was not for him, but someone else.
“Do not worry, Rose.” He began, giving her a reassuring smile. “I have no interest in his business.” He slid his hands into his trouser pockets and shifted his gaze ahead again, smile gone as he imagined painting the shop with Mr. Abrams’ blood. He would have to keep his hands off the place for now, but he would have to change his main baker to Mr. Abrams, mostly because Rose was going there to get her goods. Pedro couldn’t lie either, the displays in the shop looked irresistible and the delicious smell he had sensed as soon as the door opened to his bakery, his mouth had begun watering immediately. If Mr. Abrams was to ever fuck up his job though, it would be a good excuse to make him pay, if not with death, at least with some blood.
“If you don’t mind me asking, but do you currently live with someone, Rose?” He asked carefully, a beat of nervousness ticking at the back of his head.
“No, I live by myself.” She answered and he was glad she had replied with what he believed was the truth.
“And you feel safe with your current circumstances?”
She chuckled lightly and his heart fluttered with a smile. “I mean, I have been for the past five years, and yes, I don’t feel entirely safe whenever I head to or from work when the sun is gone, but I am aware of the looks I get wherever I walk and I do carry around some form of protection.”
He felt sick thinking about the disgusting and greasy looks she would get by those repulsive and filthy men roaming the streets in the dark, looking hungrily at beautiful Rose. “What protection?” He asked curiously.
She cleared her throat. “A small knife.” She murmured.
Pedro’s heart dropped. He believed no woman should ever feel unsafe in this city, especially the streets he owned. “Would you feel safer if I had someone escort you?”
She looked up at him with big and confused eyes. “Escort me?” She queried. “I don’t think that is necessary, Mr. Pascal. I have managed to keep some men at bay by myself, I am sure I can protect myself from the next ones.”
He furrowed his brows. “Are you telling me you have been attacked before?” The mere thought of it made him fume and he had to strain himself from not grabbing her wrist and take her with him home, where she would be safe, with him.
She nodded and shrugged, as if it was no big deal to her, as if it was just a regular occurence. “Yes, and it’s not really hard to swing a knife around to be honest.”
He shook his head in disbelief and sighed. “Let me get this straight, you’re walking around the streets late at night and early in the morning alone, knowing there are dangerous people out there, with a knife you don’t know how to use properly?”
“I know how to cut up vegetables with it and I know how to swing it around, what more do I need?”
He sighed. “Please let me have someone escort you, miss Rose. I fear for your safety.” He pressed, worried eyes lingering on her calm and moving form.
She exhaled with a smile. “Thank you for the offer, Mr. Pascal, but I have managed for five year, I think I can manage some more.” She averted her eyes to somewhere fare up front. “Besides, there are many other women who could have use of that protection, living in a much more dangerous environment than what I am.”
She was right, he was aware of women and children living in the worst areas in the city, being beaten, robbed and raped every night, and he hadn’t done anything about it. He didn’t like her refusal of help, but he would respect her choice. And she was right, five years of getting away unharmed, he didn’t doubt she was capable of fending for herself, but what if it all was just luck? He would have to consider this further another time. Right now, he rather focus on being in the moment and enjoy the time he was spending with her.
~
They stood facing each other outside a tall apartment building. It looked decent on the outside, except for the dust and dirt painting most of the windows above. He was gazing down at her, holding her eyes as a slight silence lingered between them. He fought against every fibre of his body, to not grasp her chin and kiss her perfect lips. He imagined, no, he knew they would be soft and warm.
She broke the eye contact first, shuffling her bread and small paper box to one hand while sliding his coat off before handing it over to him. “Thank you.” She smiled carefully and he returned the smile, even brighter.
He folded the coat over his arm as he nodded. “You’re very welcome, Rose.” He purred, and he noticed her pupils dilate slightly, which made his heart flutter. He loved how she sometimes reacted to his words, to his touch and knew that it wasn’t only fear making her say yes to his presence, or at least what kept her from pushing him entirely away.
In the corner of his eye, he noticed a car park next to them on the road. Turning his head, he recognised the car and sighed out. He turned to meet her lovely eyes once more. “Thank you for the lovely stroll, miss Rose. I hope we can do it again sometime, but perhaps with another destination.” He held out his hand, palm up and with a smirk on his lips.
She beamed as she placed her hand in his palm and he lifted it up, placing a warm and gentle kiss at the back of her hand. As he straightened up, he noticed she had caught her lower lip with her teeth. He strained himself to not reach out and carefully tug it loose. He tilted his head to the side and let his eyes linger on her lips before catching her eyes and sliding into his coat.
“Hopefully, ‘til next time, Rose.” He turned towards the car and walked over. As he placed his hand on the doorhandle, he stopped as he heard her soft voice behind him, making him beam and fill up with warmth at her words.
“It was because I wanted to.”
His eyes stared at the surface of the car; his hand tightened around the handle as he let her words sink in. He wanted to turn around to look at her but he heard a door behind him close; she had probably gone into the building. He pulled the handle and opened the door before climbing into it, his body sinking into the leather backseat.
“Who was that beautiful little birdie?” The woman sitting next to Pedro asked, her voice soft and vibrant.
Pedro kept his gaze out of the car as it began to drive off, not interested in Helena’s little games. “That’s none of your concern, miss Jones.” He said calmly.
A deep giggle emitted from her ruby red lips. “Guess I have to find out myself.”
Pedro snapped around and jabbed his hand around her throat, squeezing tightly as he pressed her into the seat, half his body pressing against her to the side. “Try it, Helena, and the only thing you will find is the end of the barrel on my gun.” He growled; brows furrowed deeply.
A grin widened on her lips, showing off her white teeth, and lust filled her eyes. “Mmm, a little tighter, Mr. Pascal.”
He titled his head forward and anger fumed from every pore at her words. “You should thread carefully, miss Jones. There are many places someone like you can go missing in.” He let go of her throat and she inhaled deeply, still that arrogant smile on her face. He slid over to his own side and turned to look out the window again. As the people outside flashed by as the car drove, he suddenly sensed a flowery smell intrude upon his nose. It was her smell. He very slowly inhaled the scent and he closed his eyes, imagining her by his side. He bit the inside of his lower lip, fighting against the thought of wanting to explore her, to know her, to feel her.
She tittered, snapping Pedro pout of his thoughts, and she straightening her dress before lighting a cigarette. “Fine, I’ll keep my claws at bay for now.” She blew out the smoke and Pedro scrunched his nose. He never liked smoking, he found it a bad and disgusting habit. “We have feedback on the territory takeover. Everything went smoothly, but we believe we should do an infiltration of the Water Lilly gang’s weapon supply. According to our spy, they might be planning a retaliation attack back at us; sources say they will go for one of the breweries.”
Helena was the head of intelligence, she had spies everywhere, snatching up any information useful to Pedro and his gang. Her methods of infiltrating other gangs were impeccable and Pedro was glad she was working for him and not someone else. He still remembered the first time they met, taken down for working with another gang, but seeing her talents, he brought her in to work for him. Probably one of the better decisions he had ever made.
“Speak with Federico about it, he handles that sort of stuff.” Pedro waved his hand, not interested in speaking of tactics and gang wars. His mind was lingering on Rose, but he brushed it away as he tried to focus on his morning meeting with the capos of his gang.
“His loyalty has been shaky at best lately.” She implied and took another drag of her cigarette
“What do you mean?” He asked, not moving.
“I would have spoken with him, if he wasn’t skimming off the top.”
Pedro furrowed his brows and turned to look at her. “What did you say?” He asked lowly.
“I believe Federico is skimming off the top. I spoke with our accountants and according to them, we are missing about a quarter of a million every third month.” She explained, dragging in the toxics from her cigarette before breathing them out in the car.
He shifted in his seat. “You believe?” He said with an almost threatening undertone, his head slightly tilting to the side.
“Yes, sir.” She said confidently.
The car stopped and Pedro glanced outside, seeing they had arrived at his destination. He placed his hand on the doorhandle, his eyes lingering on the golden ring adorning one of his fingers. “Let me get this straight, you believe, the man who has been my right hand man for almost two decades, is skimming off the top, and you have no proof of this being him?”
She cleared her throat while shifting uncomfortably in her seat; the atmosphere had changed in the car. “Well, no...”
“Miss Jones.” He lifted his head and caught her gaze, brows low and tightened. “Never, and I mean never, make allegations against one of my most trusted men without having proof. I have no interest in listening to your false accusations when you have nothing to back them up with.” His voice was low, a lingering growl at the back of his throat as he spoke. He pulled the handle and pushed open the door. “Now if you’ll excuse me, miss Jones. I have an empire to run.”
(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)
@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44
