Miguel O'Hara x Reader [one-shots]

WHO DID THIS? [W/F]

WALKING TO THE meeting held by one of the most notorious mafia bosses, I try not to wince with every step or think about the pounds of makeup I have covering my face.

My boyfriend got a little carried away last night, and instead of the small to medium-sized bruises he'd usually leave, he left them littered all over my skin. He also did me the favor of stepping on my ankles when I tried to get away from him.

Since I'm obligated to wear heels, requested by Miguel O'Hara, the mafia boss himself, every step I take engulfs me in a load of pain.

As I knock on the door, I hear the words of welcome. I then open it, smiling politely.

"Good Morning, Mr. O'Hara," I said, ignoring the strange looks from a few new business men I have not seen before.

To backtrack a bit, I guess you could say Mr. O'Hara's always had a bit of a soft spot for me, though he hasn't admitted it yet. He's the highest power there is, so he doesn't care about being rude.

For some reason, though, when I started working here, that barrier slipped a way a little. It doesn't deter me from my job, though. No one except for me wanted to take this job— to be Miguel's assistant—because of the dangerous circumstances that accompany walking into this building.

Miguel gives me a slight nod, following my movements as I move to stand next to the new associates.

I smile politely at them, ignoring the pain of simply standing up.

"May I get you fine gentlemen anything?" I ask, secretly hoping they say no.

They look up at me through those disgusting "you'd look like a good fuck" lenses only men have, smiling smugly as their eyes litter my body.

I wasn't really wearing anything that should give them those looks, though I guess it didn't really matter. I had chosen to wear a jumpsuit for obvious reasons, and I accompanied it with a blazer that thankfully goes well with the outfit, hiding the bruises and cuts on my arms.

"Coffee would be great," one of the men say, his eyes nowhere near mine.

"Same thing for us," another one says, pointing to him and his other associate.

I nod, "Any special requests?"

"Just a little cream for me, honey,"  I feel a pair of hands run up my leg, up to my ass as the first man spoke.

My face contorts in disgust as I shudder. I feel Miguel's strong gaze on me, along with the anger that radiated from him.

I didn't say anything, because I've grown quite accustomed to it. The life of a woman, huh?

"Unfortunately, you won't be needing it," Miguel cleared his throat, speaking up as his hand gripped his gun tightly, his veins more visible then they usually were.

The man furrows his eyebrows as he looks to Miguel. He doesn't even have a second to ask why before Miguel shoots him point blank in the head.

I shriek, my hand coming up to me chest as I pant heavily, my face flushed with fear, though you probably couldn't see a hint of red through the pounds of makeup.

I take a step back, slightly wincing.

Miguel looks to his security guards and gives them a simple look before they take me out of the room, ignoring my slight groans of pain.

They lead me to his office, sitting me down inside, across from Miguel's empty chair, before locking me in there.

I pant heavily, my eyebrows furrowed as I grip the arms of the chair tightly. Miguel never shot anyone in front of me. I always knew he would kill the men who laid their hands on me in secret, but doing it in front of me was something he never did.

I try to calm myself down by distracting myself. I roll up my pant leg, re-wrapping my ankles with the bandage I put on them.

As the minutes came and go, soon two hours passed by before I heard the door knob rattle. I immediately stood up, which was a bad idea, a cry of pain leaving my lips as the door opened.

Miguel looked at me, his stoic face as handsome as ever. He closes the door behind him, "Sit down."

I gulp before sitting back down, using the arm of the chair to help me. He placed wipes on his desk, right by me. He then kneels down, running his hand down my leg before getting to the strap of my heel.

I instinctively move, but he readjusts his grip on my foot. "W-What are you doing?" I nervously ask him.

"Relax," he simply said, undoing the straps of both my heels, placing them neatly to the side. His hands then come back to my legs, his hands slightly pushing up the pant of the jumpsuit.

His eyebrows furrow slightly as he catches sight of the bandage. He glanced up at me and I look away in embarrassment. He pushes the pant up further, and I see his jaw clench as he catches sight of dried blood and large bruises.

He stands back up and tilts my chin, using his hand to make me look back at him. He takes a wipe from the unopened package. He raised it towards my face, and I let him wipe my makeup off without any effort to hide it.

I feel the emotions rise to my face as he continued to wipe.

He abruptly stopped, his jaw clenching even more. He then wiped faster this time as he tears away the foundation of not only makeup, but the entire world I've hid from him and, frankly, everyone.

He then stops, and I feel my face bare and unconcealed.

"Who did this?" he questions me, his brown eyes piercing my soul.

"M-Mr. O'Hara..." I sigh, tearing my eyes away from him.

He forces me to look back at him.

"Tell me who did this, Y/N," he said, "I swear to God, I'll kill them."

I feel a tear stroll down my cheek before I finally admit it. "My boyfriend."

He nods, chewing the inside of his cheek as he stands up straight. "And how long as he been doing this?"

"A few years," I quietly say, my eyes still on his as I fidget with my hands.

He looks down at me, but doesn't question why I never left him. He simply clears his throat and carefully carries me out the door.

"W-Wait, what are you doing?" I ask, holding onto him as I look into those captivating brown eyes.

"We're going to your house and we're going to kill your boyfriend. I assume he's sitting there doing nothing because you make enough money for the both of you?"

I gulp and nod as he guesses everything correctly. My eyes then widen slightly as I shift in his arms.

"Wait, my shoes—"

"Cariño, once I'm done killing that sack of shit, I'll buy you all the shoes you desire."

My lips press together and I nod, my head going down to his shoulder as I sigh, breathing in his cologne.

I look up at him one more time, studying those facial features of his. His eyes, his lips, his jawline, his nose...

My heart flutters.

Fuck.