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dreamsofmandalore · 11 months

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Fever - Part 1

Mafia!Joel Miller x afab!reader/OFC

The Gist: Romeo & Juliet meets The Godfather, with some unexpected twists and turns along the way

Rating: Explicit 21+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you are agreeing that you are 21 years or older)

Content: Explicit smut, implied age gap, drinking, reference to drugs, mafia related content, secrecy, slight family interference, attempted assault and drink spiking, vocal honey

Words: 2.7k

Greetings from the moon: Please be kind, as this is my first Joel Miller/Pedro Pascal character fan fic! Huge thank yous to @the-ginger-hedge-witch, @dreamsofmandalore, @frannyzooey, and The Whore Home™ for beta reading and hyping me up through this exciting yet nerve-inducing process! Y’all are filthy, I love it 🫶🏻💜

Tag List will be at the bottom for now - subject to change but I’ll keep you posted. Please let me know if you’d like to be on/off the list!!

Part 1

You should be used to it by now.

The parties and the meetings held behind closed doors while guests drink, snort, and dance into euphoric oblivion. The eyes that always seem to be on you, connecting the dots as to who you are solely because of your name.

Your family’s name. A famous name. A notorious name.

You should be used to it by now. But you’re far from it.

Tonight was no different. Your father was hosting an extravagant gala to celebrate the opening of a new, state-of-the-art recording studio in New York City. It’s not certain who decided it was a good idea for the gala to be masquerade, but you assumed it was for a reason beyond mere amusement.

Masks were safe. Masks meant business wouldn’t be interrupted. Masks provided a sliver of anonymity. And that sliver was worth it, especially for La Famiglia Velluto.

On the outside, they were one of the biggest families in the music industry, owning studios in major cities and producing work for some of the world’s biggest and brightest stars.

On the inside however, they ran the largest underground drug cartel in the country. You didn’t know too much about the “family business” - mainly because of your father. You were his only daughter, his pride and joy, his little songbird. And the last thing he wanted was for you to get involved in this part of the family business.

“For your mother’s sake and mine,” he’d explained, “you have a gift, mia canarina, and that must take precedence.” There was no need to argue, because you knew he was right. You’d been singing since you were a child - not always in tune at the start - but as you got older, you got better.

A hell of a lot better.

You started working in the family’s studios, singing back up on hundreds of recordings, and your father knew you’d make for an excellent distraction at parties. Sing a standard or two to keep the guests preoccupied while others snuck away to fulfill deals and bring their concerns to the Don.

Tonight would be no different. Or so you thought.

You gave yourself a once over in the mirror before heading to the car and you had to admit, you looked pretty damn good. A silk black dress clung to your curves, flowing just above your knees. Your hair styled into billowy dark waves, keeping your red velvet masquerade mask firmly in place, while a ruby necklace and matching heels completed the look.

When the car arrived at the venue, the party was already in full swing. Hundreds of people in masks of all colors and sizes, most of whom you were pretty sure you didn’t know. You didn’t mind keeping to yourself for a bit, knowing at some point you’d join your brothers, their wives, and some of your cousins on the dance floor.

One glass of Prosecco turned into two, and you were mid sip when you saw it.

Red.

A long red jacket set atop broad shoulders and surprisingly, thighs. It was a relief that you hadn’t swallowed yet - this man was sporting one hell of a look. His mask was rather Zorro-like, thin and black, but the eyes behind them left you breathless for a moment.

They were a deep brown, almost black from where you were standing. And they were looking directly at you.

Be cool, just be cool.

Not daring to break the contact first, you kept your eyes on his as you downed the last of your Prosecco in one fell swoop. He was heading your way through the crowd and you were ready to meet him halfway, but a cold hand grabbed your arm before you had the chance.

—

So close.

He was so close to reaching her when she was ushered away.

Just his luck, right?

Joel Miller didn’t play the field very often - primarily because his work with Don Forte didn’t leave much room for a social life.

Sure, he’d met his share of women in the brothels he’d frequent with Don Forte’s sons and capos, but there was only so much pleasure to be found there.

His eyes scanned the crowd, desperately searching for you when a loud voice came from the stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you enjoy this surprise entertainment!”

Thunderous applause echoed through the ballroom. Joel caught sight of a red velvet mask and before he knew it, he was weaving his way through the crowd to get closer to the stage.

Turns out, the surprise entertainment was you.

—

“Sorellina, Pop’s been looking for you - wants you to sing a couple numbers soon,” Gregorio, the younger of your two older brothers murmured into your ear as he ushered you towards the backstage area.

“Of course he does…” you muttered, grabbing another glass of Prosecco to get some more liquid courage in your system. As the crowd started applauding, you sauntered onto the stage and gave the song you’d be singing to the bandleader. When the crowd quieted down, the smoothness of the upright bass and quiet drums filled the space. You instinctively started snapping, a subtle grin on your face as you began to sing:

“Never know how much I love you Never know how much I care When you put your arms around me I get a fever that’s so hard to bear You give me fever…”

Hips swaying and lashes batting with a playful coyness, you had the crowd in the palm of your hand with their wolffish whistles and praise. Your eyes scanned the audience, pretending to engage with them when really, you were in search of red.

In search of him.

He was closer to the stage than you’d anticipated - not at the very front, but close enough that you could clearly see him through the blinding stage lights.

“Captain Smith and Pocahontas Had a very mad affair When her daddy tried to kill him She said, 'Daddy, oh, don’t you dare' He gives me fever…”

You sang it directly to him, one hand on the mic stand and the other blowing a flirtatious kiss in his direction. His eyes seemed to burn into you as you serenaded the rest of the audience. A roar of applause and a graceful bow later, and you were back in the wings of the stage. For once, you were relieved that your part in the grand scheme of the evening was over.

As the band resumed their set list and the guests their dancing, you snuck your way to the bar in the back, ordering another drink to calm your nerves.

“You’ve got a hell of a set of pipes on you, hot stuff!”

A silent groan escaped your lips as the unfortunately familiar sound of Paolo Rossa, Don Rossa’s notorious playboy of a son. There was no desire to converse with him, but you knew you couldn’t just walk away. The last thing you wanted was for him to be on the hunt for you all night long.

“Hi Paolo..” you deadpanned, feigning politeness as you turned to face him.

“Fuck you look good enough to eat, bambola,” he leaned against the bar, his eyes undressing you in a way that made your stomach turn.

“I’d rather not,” you insisted, ready to desert the drink you’d ordered solely to get away from this creep. “Oh, come on,” he insisted, one hand pinching your chin to keep your eyes on him while the other surreptitiously went to his pocket and sprinkled a strange powder into your drink.

“Let go of me!”

“But Daddy’s dying for a taste…grab your drink and we’ll get outta here,” he growled. Shit, he probably thought that verse you sang was for him. You knew he was trying to be smooth, but it was making you sick to your stomach. You wanted to puke, spit in his face, anything to get out of his grasp.

“No!” you nearly screamed.

“Are you deaf, son?”

The deep, baritone voice was enough to startle even Paolo as he turned around and found himself face to face with him.

The man in red.

“She said no.” There was a calm yet firm tone in his voice.

“This doesn’t concern you, old man,” Paolo scoffed, finally letting go of your chin.

“It does now…she. said. no,” the last words punctuated with steps closer until he was face to face with Paolo. “So I suggest you leave her alone before I give you something to really be concerned about.”

You knew Paolo was all talk and no game, so you weren’t surprised when he just rolled his eyes with a muttered curse and he walked away.

“Are you alright?” your mystery man filled the gap where Paolo had stood, searching your face with concern.

“I am now,” you exhaled with a relieved smile - not only that Paolo was gone, but that it was this man who saved you from him. You reached for your drink only for his hand to top yours, keeping the glass on the bar.

“I wouldn’t drink that if I were you…”

No further explanation was needed. You knew now that he saw the whole thing.

Letting go of the glass, he ordered another Prosecco for you and a whiskey on the rocks for himself. “An impressive guess,” you smiled. “An observation,” he corrected gently, flashing a crooked grin as you clinked glasses.

“Anything else that you’ve…observed?” you mused softly, tilting your head ever so slightly.

“Aside from you being the most alluring creature in the room, especially after that little number…” he leaned in closer, his finger grazing against your bare arm as his lips found the shell of your ear. “…you look so beautiful.”

His surprisingly tender remark sent a chill up your arms, making him smirk as his thumb gently rubbed against the goosebumps on your skin.

“Shall we?” he nodded towards the dance floor, and you instinctively took his hand as he led you into crowd.

His hands found your waist and pulled you flush against him as you began to sway to the music. Your arms wrapped around his neck, and all thoughts briefly paused.

Did you know this man? No. Did you want him to stop? Also no.

It was exciting, actually - the mystery of it all. You could feel how wet you were getting through your panties and casually slid your legs between his, subtly grinding against him as you sang along in his ear.

“I can’t wait a moment more Tell me quando quando quando Say it’s me that you adore And then darling tell me when…”

Sporadic soft moans crept in between lyrics as his growing erection grazed against you. Hands sliding down to his biceps, you had just enough time to catch his darkened gaze before he closed the gap between you.

You caught the faint taste of his whiskey on his tongue, his hands cupping your face, and you gave his arms a gentle squeeze as you heartily reciprocated his kiss.

Fuck, he’s strong.

You’d nearly forgotten where you were. Who you were. Nothing in that moment mattered or existed save for you and him.

Pausing for air, his thumbs gently stroked your cheeks and the next thing you knew, he was leading you off the dance floor and out of the ballroom. A darkened hallway thankfully provided just enough privacy to keep you both out of sight and earshot.

You were pinned to a corner and his lips sought yours in the darkness. The music was loud enough that you didn’t need to worry about being quiet. His hands slid down to your thighs, slowly raising your dress and hooked one of your legs around his waist. Tilting your head back, his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, finding your sweet spot though careful not to leave a mark.

Not this time, at least.

“Please…” you whimpered into his ear, your hips rolling against his hands.

“Please what?” He purred into your ear as his fingers slowly made their way up your thighs, drawing teasing little circles against the soft skin. “Use your words, baby..”

“Please touch me…”

His fingers ghosted over your covered pussy and you could feel his growl against your chest.

“Well well….is this for me?”

“All of it…”

He wasted no time moving your panties to the side, his index finger circling your clit once before sliding inside you with ease.

“Bellissima…” he crooned into your ear, slipping a second finger inside you. You held on tight to him, knowing you’d melt into a puddle if you didn’t.

Knowing you might wake up from this dream at any moment. Knowing you may never see him again after tonight.

You couldn’t let that happen. You wouldn’t.

Further thoughts escaped your mind when you felt your juices drip down to your ass, a third finger gingerly circling your anus before slowly sliding inside. To say you were in heaven was a severe understatement.

“Such a good girl, taking me into her holes so well…” he grunted, his forehead pressing against yours to help keep you in place.

“I need you…please fuck me!” you begged amidst your moans, your legs beginning to tremble against his hips.

“Patience, fiore mio,” he tenderly kissed her forehead. “You’re gonna cum from my fingers tonight. I want you all to myself when this sweet pussy gets my cock, ‘cause I’m gonna savor every last inch of you,” he promised as his thumb found your clit, rubbing mercilessly. “Would you like that, baby?”

“Fuuuck yes! Yes please!!” The fire in your stomach burning brighter and brighter each second.

“Good girl…why don’t you cum for me now, huh? You’ve been so good, letting me fuck your tight little holes. C’mon baby, cum for me, cum for me baby, I’ve got you.”

If it wasn’t so dark already, you would’ve certainly blacked out at that point. Nails dug into his shoulder as you rode your high against him, crying out like a minx in heat.

“That’s my girl….there she is…such a good fucking girl just for me,” he praised, kissing all over your face. His arms kept you close, steadying you as you started to float back down to earth. “That was beautiful, baby, you did so good for me…did I hurt you?” He asked, gently removing his fingers from you and setting your feet back on the ground. He kept you cornered for a moment, keeping you anchored against him.

Words weren’t something you could handle just yet, so you shook your head in response. A sense of pride surged through him - if he could render you speechless from his fingers alone, he was gonna do a hell of a lot more with the rest of him.

He sucked your juices off the fingers that fucked your pussy, savoring every drop. “The nectar of the gods, carissima,” he grinned down at you and carefully readjusted your panties and dress.

A serene smile spread across your face and your fingers skimmed the black silk of his tie. “Thank you,” you whispered, faintly hearing the sound of your father on the mic again inside the ballroom.

Fuck

“I have to go back before they send a search party for me,” you urged with a giggle, slipping out from the corner and smoothing your dress. “Promise me that I’ll see you again?”

You couldn’t resist kissing him. “Please come back for me,” you whispered against his lips, your hands resting on his chest for a moment. His hands cupped your face once more, brushing away a strand of hair that got caught on your mask.

“Always, carissima.”

With one more peck to his lips, you started to head back into the ballroom when you heard him call after you.

“How will I know where to find you though? You haven’t told me your name.”

You’d stopped, completely overlooking that giant detail. It didn’t occur to you that you were just as much of a mystery to him as he was for you, yet you’d felt like you’ve always known him in this life or another. Turning around to face him, you backed up a little until you were under one of the lights overhead.

“You never asked,” your mused with a cheeky grin.

“Won’t you tell me, then?”

“How about I show you…” you took a deep breath, and removed your mask....

Glossary

Mia canarina - My canary

Sorellina - Little sister

Bambola - Doll

Quando - When

Bellissima - Most beautiful

Fiore mio - My flower

Carissima - Dearest

Friends of the Filth (aka the Tag List): @the-ginger-hedge-witch @dreamsofmandalore @frannyzooey @littlefreya @celestianstars @beskarandblasters @bearsbeetsbeskar @pr0ximamidnight @str84pedro @cutesyscreenname @dreamingofdaddydin @jksprincess10 @mydailyhyperfixations @serenaxpedro @atinylittlepain

#gonna reblog this again bc I love it #rues recs #joel miller

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