"Whew~"
Natasha exhaled softly and gave a small smile. "Mr. Kadere, you're strong. It looks like I'm no match for you~"
If she could've easily overpowered him, Natasha wouldn't have minded showing off a few moves. But with Jack's display of power in that single palm strike earlier, she knew better. To spar with him seriously, she would have to unleash her full arsenal of techniques.
But Black Widow wasn't about to do that.
As a seasoned agent, she knew better than to reveal her limits just for the sake of pride.
"Can you teach me?"
Natasha stepped closer, her voice carrying a subtle playfulness. A faint perfume trailed with her movement—something light, fresh, and deliberately disarming.
Jack Kadere didn't refuse. Sliding an arm to guide her stance, he patiently demonstrated a few principles, his hand gently adjusting hers in place.
Unlike when he taught Gwen or Cindy, who would sometimes get flustered with close contact, neither Jack nor Natasha showed any awkwardness. To the outside eye, they looked professional—almost cold.
But the audience watching didn't see it that way.
Pepper rubbed her temple, a sigh escaping her. Why is it that whenever Jack is around a beautiful woman, there's always this air of ambiguity?
To her, Jack was like a walking, self-propelled pheromone diffuser.
Tony, on the other hand, was not amused.
When Jack taught women, there was touching, guiding, practically embracing.
When he taught him? It was just beatdowns. Pure, unrelenting beatdowns.
…
Meanwhile, Natasha was more intrigued than annoyed. Jack's combat insights were razor-sharp—unnaturally so.
Even with decades of training under her belt, she felt something shift. It had been years since anyone had shown her a technique she hadn't already mastered or dismantled.
But Jack moved like a man guided by more than instinct. Every correction, every counter, carried the weight of experience that didn't feel entirely his.
And yet, she sensed he was holding back.
That thought alone was enough to draw her in further.
So, after Jack showed her a few key movements, Natasha smoothly shifted gears. She leaned in, her voice lowering into a sultry lilt.
"We should exchange contact information," she said, slipping a folded slip with her number into his pocket. Her eyes lingered, teasing. "Maybe we can go a little deeper… next time~"
Her words were deliberately ambiguous. What she meant was deeper training, deeper sparring. But Natasha Romanoff wasn't above using double entendre, not when she could weaponize charm as easily as a knife.
Jack, however, didn't rise to the bait. After slipping the slip into his coat, he sat back down on the sofa without another word.
Compared to Natasha, he still preferred Gwen and the other girls. Weren't sweet, obedient, and playful girls so much better than dangerous spies?
"It's my turn," Tony muttered, eyes narrowing.
Watching Jack so effortlessly handle Natasha, Tony Stark—true to form—got the wrong impression. If he can do it, so can I.
So he strutted onto the stage.
The bell rang.
Within minutes, Natasha had deciphered his clumsy attempt at Jack's techniques and threw him onto the mat.
"Argh…" Tony groaned, rubbing his back as he limped off the platform. He dropped next to Jack on the sofa, scowling.
"Kadere, the fighting style you taught me is garbage. I couldn't even land a punch."
"Practice more," Jack said without looking up. "If it weren't for the moves I drilled into you, you'd have been floored in a single second."
Tony leaned over, peeking at Jack's phone. "What are you even looking at? Don't tell me it's those dancers again. Your girls are way prettier."
"News." Jack tilted the screen toward him.
[Milwaukee City… Gamma infection reported… patient had consumed a bottle of energy soda beforehand…]
Tony waved it off. "That's old. Hulk-related incident from a while back. ...What is interesting is your little mood-sharing thing? Tie it into TikTok filters and live feedback? We'd have a viral goldmine. Women would go crazy for it.."
Before Jack could reply, Natasha returned with documents.
"Mr. Stark," she said firmly, handing him a folder. "Your signature is needed here."
"Alright, alright. Pepper, looks like you're the boss now," Tony quipped, drawling his signature onto the transfer file before tossing the pen aside.
But he wasn't done. Turning back to Jack, Tony smirked.
"Kadere, how about Morocco? Grand Prix, high-stakes racing. This time, I promise it'll be fun."
Jack gave a faint shrug. "Fun, huh?"
"You'll see. Trust me."
…
The following day.
Beneath the Ghost Spider Club.
Research lab.
The low hum of machines filled the air, mixed with the sharp beep-beep of active instruments.
Before escaping, Walter Hardy had secretly passed on the Super Soldier Serum formula to his daughter, Felicia Hardy. As a gesture of gratitude toward Jack, Felicia had turned it over to him.
With complete data in hand, the Serum had finally been redeveloped.
Now the next phase began—weakening and diluting the formula into specialized variants, perfect for health-care products. Not enough to create soldiers, but plenty to flood the market.
Money would flow in endlessly.
…
"Darling~"
"Don't call me that," Jack replied flatly, smacking Kate Mara lightly on the hip as she leaned against him.
"General Ross has already handled the preparations. Set a time, have his people send someone for the injection."
"How cold," Kate pouted. "You've already taken everything from me. Can't you at least be a little sweeter?"
"I can be sweet to you right now." Jack's lips curled into a faint smirk as he tugged her toward his office.
Kate only sighed in mock defeat as the door shut behind them.
Jack pushed Kate up against the wall of his office, his lips crashing down on hers in a hot, passionate kiss. She moaned, her body melting into his as he pinned her hands above her head, his fingers intertwining with hers.
"You're playing with fire, Kate," he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Kate gasped, her hips bucking against his. "Maybe I like to play with fire, Jack. Especially when it's with you."
Jack smirked, his hand releasing her wrists to grip her thigh, pulling her leg up to wrap around his waist. He ground against her, making her gasp at the friction.
"You want this, don't you, Kate?" he murmured, his lips trailing along her jaw, nibbling at her ear.
Kate nodded, her breath ragged. "Yes... Yes, I want this. I want you."
Jack laughed softly, his hand slipping under her skirt, finding the edge of her panties. "Well, then. Who am I to deny you?"
He slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, finding her already wet and ready. Kate gasped, her head falling back against the wall as he began to stroke her, his fingers moving in steady circles around her clit.
"Jack... Jack, please..." she begged, her hips moving instinctively, seeking more friction.
Jack growled, his fingers plunging inside her, filling her completely. He began to move, setting a punishing pace that had Kate crying out with each thrust. Their bodies slammed together, the sound of their flesh meeting filling the room.
"Harder, Jack... Fuck me now..." Kate pleaded, her voice filled with desperation.
Jack obliged, his hips slamming into her, dominating her, filling her completely. Their bodies moved in sync, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, their hearts pounding in time.
"Come for me, Kate," Jack growled, his voice filled with dominance.
With a final, shuddering cry, Kate came undone, her body convulsing around him as her orgasm ripped through her. Jack followed her over the edge, his cock throbbing inside her as he came undone, filling her with his hot cum.
....
Kate Mara was different from Gwen and the others.
She wasn't some hidden Super Hero with untapped potential, nor was she some special heroine. Truthfully, he didn't harbor deep affection for her. Their relationship was one of convenience, sparked whenever he felt like it.
The reason she was still by his side and not discarded like others was partly her connection to General Ross… and partly because, for Jack, Gwen and the other women were the main course, but not always enough. Kate Mara, this sharp and ambitious law enforcement officer who had given him her "first blood" during their initial meeting, made for a surprisingly sweet dessert.
For Kate herself, she had her own logic. As she once explained in her own words:
"As an elite woman, I wanted to be my first time to be with a special guy. And you, Jack, were that man."
That's why, within mere seconds of their first meeting, she had already decided what hotel she would book that night.
...
"Am I good to you, Kate?" Jack's voice was low but firm.
"Good…" she answered softly, her eyes misty and unfocused.
She instinctively felt that her decision had been right. Sure enough, hesitation only ever led to defeat, while decisiveness led to victory. The longer she stayed with Jack, the more grateful she became for that moment of clarity when she had chosen him.
And soon enough, people would come to realize it too: being Jack Kadere's woman—even if it was in an undefined, title-less relationship—was still a fortune greater than most could dream.
"Then bite this."
Jack held out a round object toward Kate's lips.
"Hm? What is this?"
From her angle, she couldn't quite see the object clearly. Its texture and faint scent were familiar, but she wasn't sure.
"It's just your police badge that fell nearby," Jack explained smoothly.
"Is that so…"
Kate obediently bit down on the badge, the small metallic object pressed between her lips—a symbol of her profession, now reduced to something caught between her teeth.
Jack took advantage of Kate's obedience, positioning himself behind her, his hands gripping her hips tightly. He pulled her back against him, her body fitting perfectly with his. Kate gasped, feeling his hardness pressing against her, making her body ache with desire.
"Jack... what are you doing?" she murmured, her voice muffled by the badge in her mouth.
Jack chuckled, his lips finding her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "I'm giving you what you've been asking for, Kate. I'm taking charge."
He pushed her forward, bending her over his desk, her hands splaying out to brace herself. Kate bit down harder on the badge, stifling her cries as Jack lifted her skirt, exposing her to the cool air of the office.
"Jack... please... What if someone hears..." she whimpered, her body tensing in anticipation.
Jack smiled wickedly, his fingers finding her entrance, slipping inside to feel her ready and waiting. "Then they'll hear how much you love this, Kate. They'll hear how much you love being my good girl."
He withdrew his fingers, positioning himself at her entrance, feeling her stretch around him as he filled her completely. Kate moaned, her body tensing as she adjusted to his size, the badge muffling her cries.
Jack began to move, his hips surging forward, filling her completely. He set a punishing pace, dominating her, filling her completely with each thrust. Kate's body responded instinctively, meeting each thrust with equal fervor.
"Harder, Jack... Fuck me harder..." she begged, her voice muffled by the badge.
Jack obliged, his hips slamming into her, driving them both closer and closer to the edge. Their bodies moved in sync, their hearts pounding in time. As Kate's orgasm neared, Jack reached around, his fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts.
With a final, shuddering cry, Kate came undone, her body convulsing around him as her orgasm ripped through her. Jack followed her over the edge, his cock throbbing inside her as he came undone, filling her with his hot cum.
As they collapsed onto the desk, panting and sweat-soaked, Jack pulled Kate close, his voice filled with satisfaction. "Well done, Kate. You've proven yourself to be a very good girl."
...
Time passed.
At a U.S. Military Base, General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross listened carefully to Kate Mara's report.
"General Ross, Jack is ready on his side," she said crisply. "He's just waiting for you to send someone over."
"Very good, Ms. Kate. You've done well." Ross paused, his gaze narrowing as it fell on the badge pinned to her chest. Several distinct teeth marks scarred the metal.
Having lived through decades of war, politics, and hidden agendas, the General didn't need to guess twice. Kate Mara had already become Jack Kadere's woman.
The reports were true—the man's reputation as a playboy was well-deserved.
In fact, Ross had considered sending his own operatives to seduce Jack, to gain leverage over him. But every attempt had failed. Investigations made it clear: Jack had very particular standards. Analysts concluded that only Kate Mara, who was outside Ross's direct chain of command and yet still useful, might stand a chance of catching his eye.
And it had worked.
Kate herself was curious about Jack Kadere's reputation and power, so she had agreed to take the role. She wasn't a spy, not one of Ross's subordinates, not even part of his military system. She was simply the bridge Ross needed.
"Alright then," Ross said, exhaling a puff of cigar smoke. "But you should probably get yourself a new badge."
Kate smiled politely. "I'll keep this one as a souvenir~" She unpinned the dented badge and tucked it away before leaving the room.
From the shadows, Emil Blonsky—Ross's most loyal soldier—finally stepped forward.
"Will that serum allow me to regain the strength of my youth, General?" His voice was heavy with anticipation.
"It's stronger than that," Ross answered, his expression grim but certain. "You've heard of Captain America, haven't you? What we're building is the next step beyond him. Your dream, Blonsky, is about to come true."
Blonsky's eyes glimmered. A soldier all his life, he had fought wars and sacrificed his body for his country. Now, with the Super-Soldier Serum prototype Ross had secured, the chance to reclaim—and surpass—his prime was finally in reach.
....
Elsewhere, far removed from military bases and shadow projects…
"Dr. Stephen Strange, what is this?"
A young physician in a white coat stared at the ticket in his colleague's hand, his brow furrowed. "A Monegasque car race? Don't tell me you're actually going to participate! That's far too dangerous for doctors like us."
"Relax," Dr. Stephen Strange replied with a dismissive smile, arrogance dripping from his tone. "I'm not going there to prove myself against professional racers. Cars are just a small hobby of mine. This is nothing more than a way to unwind."
"But even so, the risks—"
"I'll control my speed," Strange interrupted. "Compete for the championship with professionals? Please, I'm not that foolish."
"Well… as you wish…"
The physician in the white coat who stood across from him clenched his jaw, irritation flickering across his face. Strange's unconscious arrogance grated on him more than the words themselves. Deep down, the man thought enviously— If only this genius of a surgeon were to lose the use of his hands. Then let's see if he still struts around with that arrogant face.
Whoosh—
Neither of them noticed the presence outside the hospital window. Not far away, a slender figure draped in yellow robes stood silently on the rooftop across the street. An ornate folding fan obscured half their face, though their piercing gaze remained fixed on Strange.
"Although the timeline has shifted, you will eventually walk this path… Strange," the figure murmured, their voice carrying the weight of ancient certainty. The fan snapped closed, and in an instant, the mysterious watcher vanished.
...
Meanwhile, at another facility, researchers hustled between workstations. Rows of test tubes glowed under fluorescent light, while data scrolled across holographic monitors.
Gwen, suited up as Ghost-Spider, picked up a test tube curiously with her gloved hand.
"Jack, is this really Felicia's father's secret project?" she asked, her masked eyes narrowing as she read the faded label.
"Enhanced human physiology… Super Soldier formula…"
Her gasp was audible even through the voice filter. "No wonder S.H.I.E.L.D. is after it."
Gwen wasn't just a costumed vigilante; she was also a top student with a sharp scientific mind. The significance of this serum was obvious to her.
Jack Kadere—better known in whispered circles as the Black Spider—shrugged, his gaze flicking to the black ring strapped to his wrist. "Don't be so surprised. The boost this thing gives isn't anywhere near the power you already wield. But…" His tone shifted, eyes narrowing at the glowing runes on the ring. "They're coming."
"Don't worry, Jack. With me here, you'll definitely look good." Gwen's voice carried a smug little laugh. Beneath her mask, she smiled in triumph. Today, she wasn't just here as backup—she was here to stand at his side.
To the outside world, the "Ghost Spider Club" might have still seemed like a youth-driven fan movement, a recreational gathering of masked kids. But in reality, the organization had evolved far beyond that.
The Club now rivaled the early stages of the Avengers Initiative. It wasn't just a collective of teenage heroes anymore; it was a network—an organization with its own industries, financial backing, and branches opening across several cities. Through social influence and grassroots support, they had even begun to dip their hands into politics.
Skye—better known as Daisy Johnson—had been the one coordinating this expansion. Her knack for organization, her intelligence, and her latent potential had proven invaluable. In another timeline, Daisy had gone on to direct S.H.I.E.L.D. itself, so for her, running the Club's infrastructure in Jack and Jessica's absence was almost natural. Of course, she wasn't doing it alone. Beneath her, seasoned managers and operatives handled logistics, finance, and recruitment.
The point was simple: the Ghost Spider Club was no longer a curiosity. It was an institution—one S.H.I.E.L.D. itself had begun to take very seriously. Few could have imagined that what started as a group of high schoolers would grow into such a powerhouse in so little time. Jack's connections, Stark Industries' discreet support, and countless other factors had turned it from a teenage dream into a rising superhuman faction.
...
It wasn't long before their new visitors arrived.
General Thaddeus "Thunderbolt" Ross stepped into the facility with deliberate strides, his expression stone-hard. At his side walked Emil Blonsky, his soldier-turned-experiment, and behind them followed a squad of heavily armed operatives.
Jack lifted his head as Ross entered, his tone immediately authoritative. "General Ross. Have your men wait outside. Don't go scaring my researchers."
Click! Click! Click!
In an instant, rifles were raised. The chorus of cocking guns echoed through the room as soldiers aimed down their sights.
Gwen's eyes narrowed. Without hesitation, she shifted forward to stand protectively in front of Jack. The purple-pink circuit-like patterns along her suit began to glow, and with a mechanical whirr, four slender appendages unfolded from her back.
The mechanical spider-limbs shimmered with a brilliant pink light. At their tips, compact plasma blades hummed to life—short, saber-like weapons designed by none other than Tony Stark himself. While not as devastating as a true lightsaber, the weapons could carve through steel like paper.
The soldiers tensed, but before things escalated further, Ross raised a hand. His sharp eyes flickered with caution as he spoke.
"You all stand guard outside."
Though his words were calm, Ross's decision was calculated. This wasn't about fearing Ghost-Spider alone. It was about what the Ghost Spider Club represented. They weren't just dealing with one vigilante—they were dealing with an organization of enhanced individuals, each one unpredictable.
And then there was Jack Kadere, the Black Spider.
Ross had heard the stories—everyone in the intelligence community had. Jack didn't fight like a traditional hero. He didn't play by Captain America's noble rules or Spider-Man's moral compass. His methods were… different. Terrifying, even.
There was one particular tale Ross couldn't shake from his mind. Once, a government official had arrogantly dismissed Jack's existence, issuing a warrant for his arrest. Overnight, that official's entire family was massacred. The very next day, the man pushing the investigation also turned up dead.
After that, no one dared to touch the Black Spider again. Those cases were buried deep, classified as top secret, never spoken of in public.
Ross had dealt with the Hulk. He had battled impossible threats before. But Jack Kadere? Jack was the kind of man you didn't antagonize unless you were ready to risk everything.
And so, the General forced his men to lower their weapons. For now, cooperation would serve him better than confrontation.
(Aaah shit, this sounds too much like a domineering young master trope. I hope it doesn't happen again.)
.....
The Hulk loses control when he gets angry. Black Spider does not.
And unlike in another timeline, General Ross no longer had a daughter entangled with the hulk. That made him cautious—and polite. Ross accompanied Jack Kadere personally as they escorted Emil Blonsky into the serum injection chamber.
"Boss, we'll need your key here," the lead technician said.
Jack unlocked a liquid nitrogen storage tank, revealing a small but potent dose of the serum.
Ross wanted Blonsky injected to counter Bruce Banner. Jack didn't particularly care. Even with the serum, Blonsky wouldn't be a true match for the Hulk. Banner had been an acquaintance back when Jack was working as an assistant, but sentiment didn't matter here. A deal with Ross did.
And Jack had his own future leverage in mind—William Stryker.
"The injection will be done in two stages," Jack explained coolly. "One into the deep muscle. The other directly into the bone marrow."
The technician prepped the syringe and pressed it to Blonsky's neck. "The second injection is going to hurt like hell."
Swoosh—
The serum entered his system.
"Ugh!! Er—!!"
Even the hardened soldier Blonsky couldn't suppress the agonized groan that tore from his throat.
...
*****
Attached is Kate Mara
I didn't like this chapter.