"Ethan Carter... Do you know the mistake you've committed?"
The voice was cool, a predatory calm before the storm, and it cut through the morning silence of the opulent penthouse bedroom.
Ethan stood fully naked, hands on his hips, his muscular form unapologetically displayed. His expression was one of unrepentant confidence.
He met the narrowed gazes of the two powerful women facing him—Jean Grey and Anna Marie—with a resolute nod.
"No, I didn't make any mistake," Ethan declared, his tone utterly serious. A faint, proud smirk touched his lips. "This, in fact, is one of the best things that has happened."
Beside him, nestled deep beneath the silken sheets, Susan Storm muttered into a pillow. Her body, barely covered, shifted slightly. "No more, Ethan... My body can't handle it," she sighed, clinging tightly to the pillow before sinking back into a deep, sated sleep.
"..."
A heavy silence descended, thick with the unspoken threat of telekinetic power. Jean and Anna were coiled springs, ready to unleash the full force of their displeasure.
Ethan sighed internally, contemplating how the situation had devolved so spectacularly.
It had been six days since his return from Asgard.
After successfully resolving the situation with Loki—and "acquiring" a vast trove of Asgardian knowledge in the process—Ethan made one final, audacious move.
Whether it was a request or a punishment was up for debate, but it was his way of showing his atoning for learning that forbidden wisdom without anyone's consent.
He'd asked Odin, the Allfather, to strike him with his full power, hoping the sheer, overwhelming force would trigger a power increase.
But the ancient god had held back. Though he did strike Ethan, the energy wasn't sufficient to advance his power, nor did it grant him any new abilities or "bonus" knowledge. It was a disappointment.
Ethan mused that perhaps Odin hadn't wanted to make him an outright enemy—or maybe the old man simply believed Ethan had already earned his reward. After all, he had guided Thor during his exile on Earth and helped him become worthy of wielding Mjölnir once more.
But trying to unravel the depths of the All-Father's mind was an exercise in futility.
So, he had returned to Earth alone, leaving Thor behind after Odin insisted they had important matters to discuss now that Loki was dealt with.
Upon his arrival, he offered a full debriefing to Susan, Jane Foster, and the others who had been anxiously awaiting their return. Jane was visibly crestfallen that Thor hadn't accompanied him.
"He'll be back," Ethan had assured her with a confident grin. "And if he dares to flake on you, I can always make a portal to Asgard so you can personally go kick his Asgardian ass for not showing up."
He made good on his promise, immediately authorizing the promised funding for Jane and her colleagues' research, ensuring everyone was happy with the financial boost. He even gave Agent Coulson a necessary, if heavily sanitized, briefing on the celestial events.
"So, every fairy tale is true?" Coulson had asked, his voice laced with professional skepticism.
Ethan only offered him a mysterious, knowing smile, hinting at secrets far grander than mere stories, and said, "Let's just say, the universe is much stranger than SHIELD gives it credit for."
Later, he and Susan had returned to his home, where he received another surprising piece of news: the notorious criminal organization, the Hand, had been wiped clean, and the notorious Red Room facility was now under their complete control.
He was slightly astonished that Diana Prince had single-handedly accomplished such a massive undertaking. He'd always known she was capable of feats beyond imagination, but he hadn't expected her to actually go through with it.
It seemed that once Diana understood what they had been doing, something inside the Amazon Princess had snapped—her righteous fury ignited, and she had acted with the unrelenting force of divine wrath.
"You managed to wipe out an entire criminal empire and take over their top facility by yourself?" he'd praised, pulling her into a tight, proud hug. "That's my Wonder Woman. You never cease to amaze me."
The very next day, Anna had plunged into managing the Red Room, aided by Yelena Belova and Melina Vostokoff.
Anna was brilliant in the role, offering the surviving Widows a simple choice: they could choose to leave the Red Room and pursue whatever normal life they desired, with Aeon Biotech providing the necessary support and resources to realize their dreams.
Alternatively, they could stay and work for Ethan Carter, dedicating their skills to making the world a better place.
"By staying," Anna had explained clearly, her voice firm, "you will no longer be required to kill anyone. Your mission will be to support Ethan in resolving minor global issues, protecting the innocent, and eliminating genuinely dangerous threats."
After a period of intense discussion, only eighty Widows out of two hundred chose to remain, committing themselves to his cause. The rest, craving the experience of a normal life, chose to leave.
Ethan was genuinely impressed by Anna's swift and decisive managerial prowess in taking control of the Red Room.
Even though she already had experience running Aeon Biotech across both the Marvel and DC universes, this was nothing like managing a corporation. The Red Room was built on fear, control, and conditioning—not board meetings and profit margins.
She still had a monumental task ahead of her—changing the mindset of the Widows. Most of them were unstable, their thoughts fractured by years of manipulation and control. It would take patience, empathy, and unyielding resolve to lead them onto the right path.
But if anyone could do it, it was Anna. She had the strength to command, the heart to heal, and the vision to rebuild something better from the ashes of what once was.
She adapted to leadership effortlessly, her presence commanding both respect and order. With the unwavering support of Yelena and Melina, who had both chosen to stay behind, she reshaped the once-infamous organization from a den of manipulation into something structured, disciplined—and far less cruel.
When he tentatively asked if they might want to reunite with Natasha, they were only mildly surprised that he knew about their connection, responding only that they would "think about it." Ethan didn't press; that choice, he knew, had to be entirely their own.
Jean was equally industrious. She had taken charge on a global scale, coordinating the cleanup and collection of waste materials for Ethan to later transmute into usable resources—turning scraps into valuable metals, even rare elements when possible.
At the same time, she was overseeing the organization and cataloging of the vast treasures, weapons, and resources confiscated from the Hand organization. Every artifact and item was carefully recorded under her watchful eyes.
Ethan was already planning how to put these assets to good use later.
Seeing everyone work so diligently, Ethan had planned a vacation as a reward. However, the three women—Jean, Anna, and Diana—had all unanimously refused.
"Our wedding date is getting close, Ethan," Jean had stated with clear purpose. "We need to focus. We're planning a systematic purge of all the weeds growing around the company, and we're starting to lay the groundwork for Oscorp's final downfall."
Ethan had sighed, but respected their focus. He, too, buckled down, dedicating his time to studying the profound knowledge he'd brought back from Asgard.
He also began a new project: using the pieces of the shattered Destroyer Armor—one of the strongest metals in the universe—to build a unique, 'cheat-like' armor for Diana.
The look on the villains' faces when Diana shows up in this new suit will be priceless, he laughed internally, an evil little thought blooming in his mind.
He planned to take his time, ensuring its perfection, and present it to Diana as a special gift on their wedding day.
Finally, after all the intense work was done, Ethan and Susan had spent two blissful, distraction-free days together, going on private dates.
Given his 'punishment' for previous proposal, he had abstained from sleeping with his fiancées. But being with Susan, and having reached the end of their perfect date, he simply couldn't hold back any longer.
They had crossed the line. A boundary he was now incredibly proud to have breached.
Which brought him to this very moment.
The next morning, Jean and Anna had walked into his room to see their groom-to-be, Ethan, sharing a bed with a completely naked Susan.
Jean took a deep breath, her eyes blazing with psychic energy. "We clearly told you you're having your punishment, Ethan. So why," she gestured sharply toward the bedroom, "am I seeing Susan sleeping like she had the time of her life last night?"
Anna's eyes narrowed, her tone turning icy. "You know the rules, Ethan. We agreed on this. So tell me—how exactly is this not a mistake?"
Ethan stepped closer to the edge of the bed, his naked form unperturbed by their hostility. He fixed them both with a challenging, yet utterly affectionate, gaze.
"First of all," he began with a faint smirk tugging at his lips, "I didn't make a mistake—I created a legendary opportunity."
He lifted a hand slightly, as if to preempt their protests. "Secondly, Susan isn't part of the punishment you mentioned. We agreed it applied only to the four of you. Last night, she confessed her feelings… and I accepted them. She's part of the family now—your sister."
His tone softened then, the confidence in his voice giving way to something more genuine. "I missed you both. I missed all of you. It's been… difficult, spending time apart."
He let out a breath, then grinned mischievously, the glint returning to his eyes. "And yes—I'll admit it. I was horny as hell these past few weeks." A chuckle escaped him. "But if that's what it takes to remind you that these little 'punishments' of yours only get in the way of our happiness… then I regret nothing."
He looked at Anna, a confident smirk playing on his lips. "And you, Little Rogue, are looking absolutely gorgeous when you're angry. It's a look I'd like to explore in much greater detail later."
He then turned his full attention to Jean, his eyes bold and emotionally charged. "And you, my Marvel Queen? You radiate power when you're jealous. I want to spend the next few days showing you exactly how powerful you make me feel. But first, since you're clearly already dressed for a fight..."
He leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, teasing murmur. "Who's going to spank me first?"
Ethan hadn't meant it in any double sense. He knew when to bow down—if your girlfriend, or in his case girlfriends, were angry over a mistake, sometimes the best course of action was to take a few hits and endure it like the man of the house, securing peace later.
So when Jean and Anna unleashed their frustration, it wasn't out of malice. They knew it was pointless—Ethan didn't feel real pain—but they needed an outlet for the prank he'd pulled and the mess he'd left behind. Channeling the full extent of their powers, they bore down on him with everything they had, letting him absorb their fury.
And Ethan, taking blow after blow with only the slightest grimace, couldn't help but wonder, 'Have I become a masochist ever since gaining my powers?'
....
Inside the top-secret Oscorp research facility, the air was thick with tension.
Flashing red lights painted the steel corridors in warning hues, and a handful of scientists stood frozen, terrified.
Norman Osborn stood in front of an empty containment chamber — its reinforced glass shattered, the restraints dangling loosely from the bed.
"How the hell did this happen?!" Norman's furious roar echoed across the lab. "How does a man like Killgrave just vanish under twenty-four-hour surveillance?!"
Norman roared, his voice cracking with a terrifying mix of rage and desperation. He spun on his heel, his eyes, usually calculating and cold, now wide and bloodshot, skewering the two security guards standing stiffly near the blast door. "You useless things! We are running highly sensitive experiments using the Goblin Serum, and the subject vanishes without a trace! Did you not search the entire tower? Did the CCTV simply forget how to record?"
Two guards flinched. One tried to stammer out an answer, "S-Sir, we checked every floor. Every security camera feed, every access log—there's nothing. It's like he just... disappeared."
Norman's jaw clenched. "Useless. All of you." He slammed his fist against the metal console. "You can't do anything right."
The chief researcher hesitated. "Sir, we're still analyzing—"
"Analyze this," Norman snapped, whirling on him. "You lost my only viable test subject!"
He began pacing. His mind was burning with fury — and fear.
'The Goblin Serum… it was supposed to be my breakthrough.'
His reflection stared back at him from the glass — pale, sweating, haunted. The last hope to save himself slipping through his fingers.
The Goblin Serum was his last, desperate hope. His initial, meticulous plan to steal the Immune+ Protocol—the key to mitigating his deadly, hereditary disease—had been thwarted. The operation had collapsed because the head of the Red Room, Dreykov, had vanished, and worse, Kingpin's crucial partner organization, The Hand, had been obliterated seemingly overnight.
Norman knew something massive and alarming was unfolding in the underworld. He had contacted Wilson Fisk, who had coldly advised him to lie low and observe the "shifting sands," assuring him he was investigating the situation.
But Norman couldn't afford patience.
His breath came heavy. "Lay low?" he muttered under his breath, eyes twitching. "I'm dying, and he wants me to sit quietly."
His condition was worsening rapidly. The Immune+ Protocol wouldn't cure him permanently; it would only reduce his debilitating symptoms and buy him a few precious months or years by boosting his body's immune response to his strange ailment. The Goblin Serum, his long-term project, was still years away from viable human application.
Then, Killgrave, the so-called "Purple Man," had appeared out of nowhere, an unexpected opportunity. Norman had been using him as a test subject for days, injecting rudimentary iterations of the serum and awaiting the results. Now, his test subject—and his last immediate hope for progress—was gone.
The pressure from his investors was also mounting. He could see them circling like vultures, their eyes fixed hungrily on his company. Norman Osborn would not back down without a fight; not while he still had a legacy to protect. He absolutely refused to let the generational curse that had doomed every Osborn fall upon his son, Harry.
"We're moving to human trials now," Norman stated, his voice tight and final.
His chief researcher, a nervous, balding man named Dr. Stomm, rushed forward, frantically wiping sweat from his brow. "Sir, please! You must think twice! The serum is not ready, and without the Purple Man's recent data, we have no measurable data on its effect on human physiology—"
"I don't have time to think twice, Doctor!" Norman interrupted, his stare glacial.
He strode purposefully to a secret compartment disguised within the lab's wall. With a quick retinal scan, it hissed open, revealing a single vial of glowing green serum. He carefully placed the vial into a high-tech autoinjector.
He stared at it in awe and desperation. "If the world won't save me," he whispered, "then I'll save myself."
The chief researcher's voice trembled behind him. "Sir… please reconsider. The serum isn't ready. We don't know how it reacts to—"
"Silence!" Norman barked, loading the vial into a high-tech injector. "You think I care about readiness? You think I care about safety?!"
He ripped his shirt open and lay on the cold steel table. His pulse quickened. "If I'm to die, it'll be on my terms."
Just as the needle was about to pierce his skin, the door burst open.
"Sir!" a young scientist gasped, out of breath. "You need to see this! The— the Purple Man… he's—he's live on TV!"
The words hit Norman like lightning.
"What?!" He jerked upright. "That's impossible!"
The chief researcher blinked. "But he's—he's—how..."
Norman cursed under his breath, snatched his shirt from the table, and threw it on. "Get me to my office, now! Everyone!" he barked, placing the loaded injector carefully on the table before storming out of the lab, followed by the two panicked doctors.
In the ensuing chaos, seconds after the men disappeared through the steel door, a small, shimmering red circle portal materialized over the laboratory table. A hand shot out from the swirling circle, snatched the vial-loaded injector, and vanished back through the portal, leaving only the faintest scent of ozone and the rhythmic humming of the machinery.
Moments later, in Norman's office, the massive screen flickered to life.
The channel logo read: Marvel Times – Exclusive Broadcast.
The poised female anchor adjusted her earpiece. "This is Mary Stevens, coming to you with breaking news. We have with us a man claiming to reveal the secrets of Oscorp Industries."
The camera slowly shifted to reveal the "guest." It was Killgrave, his purple attire contrasting sharply with the news desk. He looked composed, yet there was a desperate, bitter edge to his smile.
"My name is Kevin Thompson," he stated clearly to the camera, his voice carrying an unnatural weight. "And I want to share the secrets of Oscorp.
"Shut it down! Get this broadcast off the air, damn it!" Norman slammed his fist onto the polished mahogany desk, sending tremors through the room. "I don't care what you have to do, just stop the broadcast!""
On screen, Killgrave leaned closer to the mic, and a deadly stream of confessions began.
"For years," Killgrave declared, his eyes locked on the camera, "Oscorp has been responsible for the criminal negligence that led to the creation of the Scorpion and numerous other powered criminals. They have consistently engaged in illegal human experimentation on vulnerable subjects, leading to countless deaths in pursuit of weaponry."
"They have conducted covert bio-weaponry research using company resources, masquerading as advanced prosthetics and medical solutions. They are responsible for the massive toxic waste dumping in the outer boroughs, concealed through shell corporations. They have manipulated the stock market to crush smaller, ethical competitors, and most recently, they have attempted to manufacture a highly unstable serum derived from human tissue and rare chemical compounds."
Killgrave smiled bitterly at the camera. "I know this because I was one of the test subjects for that serum. They were pushing me toward madness. I survived, but I want everyone to know the truth. By the time this segment goes out, Norman Osborn will press the button to end my life. But I want everyone to know the truth that—"
He didn't finish. The rest of the sentence was lost in a horrifying instant.
A sudden, sickening, wet pop echoed through the broadcast feed. Killgrave's body violently exploded. Blood, organs, and viscera sprayed across the news desk and the horrified anchor's body.
The female anchor, now splattered crimson, let out a piercing, delayed shriek. The live feed instantly cut to a static graphic.
The silence in Norman's office was suffocating.
Everyone stared at the static screen — no one dared move or breathe.
Norman stood there, frozen in shock, his expression unreadable. His mind went blank.
For the first time in years, Norman Osborn — the man who prided himself on always having control — had absolutely none.
He was stunned, not by the revelation, but by the absolute, gruesome finality of the act.
'I didn't do that,' he thought with his mind racing. 'I didn't press anything.'
He looked at the shocked faces of his two researchers, the gravity of the unknown threat now hitting him with the force of a hammer. Someone else had just silenced the Purple Man, and in doing so, had just sent a very clear, very bloody message to Norman Osborn.
'They're coming for me.'
---------------
Author's Note:
Hi everyone! How's the chapter? Apologies for the delay in releasing it—I've been a bit short on time lately.
Coming up in the next few chapters, Ethan and his girls will be going on a world-hopping honeymoon! I'd love to hear your suggestions—what worlds do you want to see them explore? I'm currently considering Demon Slayer or Naruto, but I'm open to any ideas you've got!
What do you think about the harem aspect—should I introduce a few more girls in the other worlds or keep it as is? I'd love to hear your thoughts.