Miguel Ohara!mafia x fem!reader.

Brave.~1.

Y/n was a simple girl, she worked in a café, had a small apartment, a cat, made a decent amount of money, all that stuff. She knew she worked in a rough part of town, but it didn't bother her much, since she didn't let anyone get on her bad side. Until today.
———
"I said, I want Peter. Not this, this floosy." The tall man said to the bartender, waving his hand at me at the last part.
"I'm sorry sir! But Peter isn't in today, he's home sick!" The bartender pleaded, trying to get him to calm down.
The man sighed, then pointed to me.
"Don't point, speak." I say, snapping at his rude behaviour.
"I'm not a dog." You add, crossing your arms. Everyone in the restaurant gasped, but the man let out a small chuckle.
"Oh? Well I like that. I've changed my mind, I'll have her as my server for today." He says, taking a seat. You scoff, walking over to him, putting on the fakest sweet smile ever.
"What are you ordering today mr...?" You look at the reservation.
"Mr Ohara?" You say, smiling. The man shakes his head.
"Miguel will do. I want my usual." Miguel responds, waving his hand. You shoot him an unimpressed look.
"A-hem.. sorry, Miguel, but I have never served you before. Would you be as kind as to remind me of that usual?" You say, looking at him like he's dumb. He shook his head again with annoyance.
"Ask the kitchen. They know very well. And it would do you good to drop that attitude girl." He says, pinching the bridge of his nose. You just scoff, and walk away into the kitchen.
"A, Miguel Ohara wants his, 'usual'" you say with a hint of sarcasm, and then all of the chef's immediately drop what there doing and work on his order. You look confused.
"What's with the rush? He's only just came in-" they cut you off.
"Are you stupid? That's Miguel Ohara! Like, the head of the scariest mafia in the world?!" Your friend anya says, shaking your shoulders. You gulp.
That miguel Ohara?

(Short chapter but I'm on my period and my stomach hurts to much to stay up and do this)