@londons-best-thief-official (Spiderverse Kyana starter for you!)
What had happened? Kyana had been chasing down a villain, the police on their way as well and she almost had him when suddenly...she fell into a portal.
Her web snapped causing her to face plant on the ground right in front of someone. Groaning, she peered up, only to gasp and scramble to her feet. Their appearance was a bit intimidating and her hands started to glow and burn. "Wh-Who are you? Where am I? Did you do this?"
a/n: I tried my best to write this in a Noir style novel, so it’s kinda dark, no one is really a “good guy” and it’s in his pov. Never really wrote anything like this, not sure how I feel about tbh. But I saw some Spiderman Noir fan art that made me want to write something for him.
Summary: The reader hires Peter Parker Private Investigator to search for her missing husband.
Queens, the city where I was born and raised. A city that has declined into darkness. A city drowning in its own filth, overrun with criminals and scum. From the dark alleyways, all the way to town hall was corruption.
Thunder roared outside my office window and lightning struck lighting up my office for a brief second. In the corner, there was a leak in the roof and there's a low buzz coming from the light fixture above.
I've stayed in this city long enough, but every time I think I can get out, something pulls me back.
I opened the bottom drawer of my desk and fetched the bottle of scotch. There was only about a shot left. I swallowed the last bit and sighed. It wasn't nearly enough.
There's a knock on my door and my secretary, Ms. Stacy, peeks her head in, “Mr. Parker, there's someone here to see you, sir.”
“Let 'em in,” I nod, tossing the empty scotch bottle in the trash.
A lovely woman steps into my office. She was wearing an A-line dress and lace gloves and was tightly clutching a matching handbag. Half of me hopes she hear for a date, but I know better in this kind of work.
I motion for her to take the seat across from me, “What can I do you, Miss-?”
“Y/n,” she answers without missing a beat and settles down. “I need your help, I've got no one else who I could turn to. I heard you’re one of the best private investigators in Queens.”
“Get to the point,” I cut her off.
“It's about my husband,” she starts, her eyes laced with concern.“He's gone missing… the police refuse to get involved, but I know there's something fishy going on.”
“Sure he didn't just run off with some hussy?” I questioned.
“I know my husband,” she argued sternly. “If he had a mistress, he would've had the courtesy to let me know he was leaving me for her.”
I roll my eyes, I've had other cases dealing with missing spouses, they almost always ended with them having a new lover.
“Mind if I?” she asks, removing a pack of cigarettes from her handbag.
I nod and push the ashtray on my desk closer to her. Her hand shakes as she tries to light it.
“Listen, Dollface,” I say, taking out a book of matches from my pocket. “I'm not the good guy you're looking for,” I explained to her, swiping the match against the strip. “I ain't gonna do you or nobody any favors out of the goodness of my heart.”
She leans towards the match I'm holding out for her, and she takes a quick drag and blows. “Money ain't a problem if that's what you’re worried about. Just please find him.”
Missing husband cases never go well. It always leads to unnecessary heartbreak. But if she's willing to pay, I'll keep my mouth shut for now. I got bills to pay after all.
“Fine,” I give in. “I'll take your case.”
I tell her to leave the details with my secretary, and with that, she leaves.
I get ready to head home for the night and to check in with Aunt May. I grab my hat and coat by the door and stop by Stacy's desk to say goodnight.
“So, Whaddya you think, Stac?”
She shrugs, “Think there might be something to it and something that might interest you. Here's what she told me.” Stacy handing me a note.
My eyes narrow when they spot a familiar name, Harry Osborn. So, the broad's missing husband was none other than my old chum.
“Small world,” I mutter bitterly.
...
Aunt May welcomes me home with open arms as soon as I walk in. While she has me near, she explains that my dinner is in the oven.
Not feeling hungry, I thank her and tell her I'll eat it later as I head upstairs instead. I can see that concerned look in her eye she often gives me, but she keeps quiet about it.
Digging through a box of old junk in my room, I find an old photo of Harry and myself, back during our school days. Life seemed so simple back then.
I had become aware of the sort of shady business Harry's father had been a part of shortly after high school.
Norman Osborn may have appeared like a saint in public, but that man had a finger in almost every criminal organization in Queens. It took a lot out of me to bring the Green Goblin down.
However, last I checked, Harry had nothing to do with his father's affiliations. And I hadn't heard anything through the grapevine about a new Green Goblin taking over.
But a lot can change over time and this city has a way of changing people for the worst.
Discarding the picture aside, I run my hand down my face, questioning if I can pursue this case without it taking a personal toll.
...
I started my investigation following Harry's last known activities. I searched for clues while following his footsteps.
Everywhere I went, I came out empty handed. Just when I was at my wit's end, one of Harry's employees mentioned a bar his boss frequented and adds that Harry was on his way there after work. He also warned me that the place was known to serve the shady sort of patrons in town.
The speakeasy wasn't easy to find, had to walk through what seemed like a maze of alleyways before finding the steel door to what appeared to be an abandoned factory.
As I opened the door I was greeted by a waft of thick white smoke. All eyes turned to me, watching me with suspicion. I recognize a few faces, several mobsters and petty criminals.
I approach the bar and ordered a drink. So, this is the place Harry Osborn was last seen. Not a surprise with all these shady characters around.
What the hell had Harry gotten himself into?
I run the scenarios in my head. Did he have a drug problem? Couldn't pay back a loan shark? Became a target for kidnapping?... Or worst-case scenario, Harry had decided to follow in his old man's footsteps.
There's still so much I don't know. I needed more clues and information.
My thoughts come to halt as applause breaks out. Shifting my attention to the stage, a man in tuxedo introduces the entertainment for the evening.
“Y/n,” I whisper to myself, as the dame sauntered on stage. Apparently, the missus had kept from crucial facts to herself.
She looked even better than she had the other night. The skin-tight satin dress hugged every curve of her body.
She smiles at the crowd as she takes ahold of the mic, and the music starts. It's clear that she's no stranger to the limelight.
I watch mesmerized as she begins to croon a beautiful but sad song. She sings so effortlessly. Song after song, I find that I can't possibly take my eyes off of her.
Y/n looks in my direction, her eyes locking with mine as she coos some pretty words, and with that, her last song comes to an end.
Applause erupts again as she takes a bow and disappears backstage.
I feel my teeth grind and my fists clenched, as I finally come to my senses. She must've known her husband was a regular patron here.
I practically snarl as she slides into the barstool next to me a few minutes later.
“Mad at me?” she jokes playfully seeing the scowl on my face.
I scoff turning my face and finishing my drink. “I don't appreciate getting played.”
“Didn't know you were investigating me,” she shot back.
“Don't play coy, Mrs. Osborn,” I snap. “You hired me to find your husband, and all anyone can tell me was he was last seen here.”
“Mr. Parker,” she barks clearly displeased with my tone. “I'm sure you could understand, that I would want to keep this side of Harry's life private…”
Y/n sighs, crossing her legs and adjusting her dress, there's a faraway look in her eyes, “I'm not even entirely sure what all he was up to… but I'm scared, Mr. Parker, scared that I won't see my Harry again alive.”
My blood is still boiling over her withholding information.
“Might need to get used to the idea,” I say unnecessarily harsh. “You could've helped prevent that.”
She wipes away a stray tear and I regret my words.
“I'm sorry,” I start but she interjects.
“No, you're probably right,” she murmurs with trembling lips. “I need to tell you everything, Mr. Parker.”
We take a taxi back to my office so we can talk behind closed doors. I shut the door and stand back as she leans against my desk.
“When Harry and I first met I was a lounge singer and he had a bright future ahead of him. He was educated, came from a well to do family… I Had no idea how I caught his eye,” she says with a sad smile. “But we were young, in love, and a year or so later we married.”
“Then things really took a turn for the worst after Harry's father passed, and the ugly truth to his father's success came out to the forefront,” she sighs, her shoulders slumping. “The bribes, the scheming, the manipulating… Harry's not cut out for a life of crime… he's been distancing himself from me and keeping secrets.”
“When I try to talk to him, he gets defensive and puts up walls,” y/n rubs her forehead, her emotions getting the better of her. “I'm afraid that even if you do find Harry, Mr. Parker, he won't be the same man I married anymore.”
“I'll get to the bottom of this,” I promise her. “But I don't know if you'll like what I find.”
Y/n glances up at me with those sad eyes. I cup her cheek feeling her warm tears on my hand.
Next thing I know we’re kissing like our lives depended on it. My fingers caress her neck, and my tongue slides across her bottom lip.
Her coat slides off her shoulders, and my mouth kisses and sucks on her newly exposed skin and collarbone.
I scoop her up by her hips and help hoist her up on my desk. I push her dress up and my hands hastily move up her thighs. In a swift motion, I yank her lace panties down.
Neither of our actions would necessarily be considered loving or affectionate. We were caught up in our passion, lust, and overall desperateness to soothe our pain and loneliness.
Her hands fumbled with my shirt and belt. I feel her delicate fingers on my chest.
I know deep down we should stop, that I should be the voice of reason, but my most carnal desires take over. There's only one thing I want right now, and it's to be inside her, to feel her warmth.
Slowly, I push into her cunt, not being able to resist any longer.
Her nails drag across my shoulders as she clings to my body. She moans, throwing her head back as she takes every inch of my cock. I take this opportunity to sink my teeth into the crook of her neck and gently biting the tender muscle.
I smile against her skin as she tugs on my hair. I teasingly grind deeper into her. Her legs wrap around my hips holding me close.
“Enjoying yourself,” I purr lowly.
She pulls me into another heated kiss and our tongues swirl around passionately.
I can hear the desk rattle as I thrust my hips into her. Slick noises fill the room along with our panting and moans.
Y/n starts getting louder and is in on the verge of screaming as she gets closer to cumming. With a few more rough bucks of my hips, she tenses and her walls squeeze tightly around my cock, milking it for every drop of my seed.
My fingers grip her soft skin tightly as I cum. I rest my forehead on her shoulder, catching my breath.
“Sleep on the couch,” I mutter. “It's not safe to travel alone this time of night.”
She doesn't utter a word as she slides off my desk and lays on the couch. Taking my trench coat in hand, I go over to her and cover her up with it.
When I wake at my desk the next morning, the first thing I notice is the empty couch. Not that I pictured things to go differently. She's a married woman after all.
Yet, a dark part of me hopes that Harry never turns up and that maybe something more can transpire between y/n and me.
Ieri mi sono data alla pazza gioia Otto & Trevor (Otto in another dimension)
I imagined this brilliant child raised by another family, would it have been different? Or you do not run away from destiny?
Because Yuri Lowenthal (Sasuke's English voice actor) is also voicing Spider-Man in the latest video game that came out, this particular Sasuke blog will have a Spider-Man verse.
Yes, you heard me. Everyone's grumpy raven is the web-swinging, spidey hero!
Let me work through the kinks of this verse a bit, but if anyone's ever interested in plotting a verse with him, let me know!!
Peter walked through the apartment, noting that his Aunt wasn’t home yet. Quietly he went into his bedroom and jumped back with a ‘Holy shit.’ when he saw Steve sitting on his bed. ‘...Cap? What the hell man. Could have let me know you’d be here..’
