This story will contain: fluff, smut, angst, just request! I only own "y/n" I do not own Tom or any other characters.. enjoy <3 promise it gets better as you go on :)
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Requested: yes, but I've changed it to the marvel universe. Summary: Peter is an mi6 agent trying to take town one of the biggest mobs in London.. warnings: swearing, getting shot in the shoulder?, angst maybe, fluff, mentions of sex, that's probably it. Pairing: agent!peter x mobster!reader Word count: 1.5k
Peter pov: "I'm sorry, you want me to take down who?" Peter asked, his eyes bulging out of his head.
"It only makes sense agent Parker, you've been off the radar for years and you're one of our best agents for the job... it's time" agent Stark nodded.
"I-I, yeah ok, I can do this." Peter nodded.
"I sure hope so son. You're our only hope on taking her down." Tony nodded.
"Thanks daddy" Peter winked, making Tony chuckle as he walked away.
Your pov: "What the fuck do you mean the guns aren't getting in by Friday?!" You yelled into the phone.
"No! I need them by Friday, you get them to me at 10pm Friday night at the latest or I blow your fucking face off. Got it?... good. I'll see you then." You sighed, hanging up the phone with a long sigh.
"Rough day babe?" You heard your right hand woman, Mj, ask.
"You know it," you nodded, lighting up a cigarette, "is it time to go?" You ask. Mj sighs with sympathy and nods her head, making you roll your eyes.
Tonight you had a Gala to go to, some of the biggest names in the mafia were going to be at this event, and some of them weren't so important, but as the biggest mob group in London you had to make an appearance.
"I still think this shit show is a recipe for disaster." You nodded, before grabbing your bag and walking over to her. You wore a simple black dress, it clung to your curves perfectly and your back was bare, it had sleeves and it was also long enough to hide a gun in your thigh holster.
"Definitely a recipe for disaster... but you've not shot or fucked someone in like a week or so, better get it out of your system." She shrugged, making you chuckle.
"This Mj, is exactly why your my right hand woman"
~ As you predicted. This was boring as fuck. While Mj was talking with the French mafia leaders daughter. You were currently fiddling with your purse, itching to get home and get that paperwork done so that you could relax tomorrow.
"Miss L/n?" You heard a voice say from above you. You looked up to see a man, around your age, he was stunning, brown curly hair, brown eyes, freckles littered all over his face. But who the fuck was he? You swear he looks familiar.
"Yes, and you are?" You held your hand out to him, he smiled and raised it to his lips, kidding it gently, making you fight back a blush.
"I'm Mr Osborn miss, Peter Osborn" he smiled, you smiled back, though something wasn't sitting right.
