Ethan Calloway went to bed expecting nothing and woke up to the smell of industrial-grade air freshener and cheap carpet, which was the only way to suppress the overwhelming smell of the room, something that came from living with three roommates in a building that wouldn't even be called a slum.
A combination of the terrible stock market crisis that was going on, combined with his heavy student loans and less than marketable liberal arts degree meant that even that was technically a luxury.
He woke up to a ceiling he didn't recognize. But, since it had no mold, he took that as an improvement.
He sat up slowly, taking stock of the situation with the kind of methodical calm that came from a life where surprises had always been bad. A glance confirmed it was a motel room. Queen-sized bed with sheets that were aggressively beige. An old TV. A window unit air conditioner that hummed with the confidence of a machine that had been running since the Nixon administration.
His clothes were on a chair, with a small suitcase showing all his clothes. His wallet was on the nightstand. He opened it.
California driver's license. His face, his name, an address in Pasadena he'd never seen. Also, for some reason. Two credit cards, three hundred and forty dollars in cash, and a gym membership card that looked suspiciously unused.
Everything he owned … except the address on his driver's license was different, showing California instead of Oregon. Weird.
He sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, looking at the mirror, showing his face. The same. Yet, somehow, he could feel that his whole world had shifted. It was an absurd conclusion to react, yet somehow, in the depth of his heart, he knew it to be true.
The reasonable reaction would have been panic. Screaming. Maybe a mental breakdown, the kind that involved rocking and muttering. He'd seen enough movies to know the script.
Instead, Ethan felt something he hadn't expected.
Relief.
His life; the real one, the old one, or whatever he was supposed to call it now, hadn't been the kind that inspired nostalgia. No close family, no romantic interests, no friends. A job that paid enough to survive and not enough to live. An apartment with a recurring mold problem and a landlord who treated maintenance requests like personal insults.
He wasn't going to cry over losing that.
He showered. The water pressure was terrible, which confirmed that the universe, whatever version of it he was in, still maintained certain constants. He dressed in the clothes that weren't his but fit like they were and stepped outside.
Los Angeles hit him like a wall of sunlight and ambition.
The motel sat on a stretch of road that was caught somewhere between commercial and residential, the kind of block that couldn't decide if it was gentrifying or giving up. A laundromat. A taco place with a hand-painted sign. A store that sold phone cases and dreams of upward mobility.
Ethan walked.
He didn't have a plan yet, and he was comfortable with that. Plans required information, and information required observation.
So he observed.
The cars were wrong. Not wrong in an obvious, science-fiction way. Wrong in the specific sense that his trained eye caught model years that didn't quite line up with what he remembered. The phones people carried were familiar but slightly off. Like someone had shuffled the last fifteen years of consumer technology and dealt them out in a slightly different order.
He passed a newsstand — an actual newsstand, which was its own kind of anachronism, and scanned headlines without stopping. Nothing about the events he recognized. No politicians he could name. The world was similar enough to be navigable and different enough to be interesting.
Also, the year was 2012. Panicked, he pulled his driver's license again, only to see his birthday had been shifted to 1990. Good, he wasn't suddenly an overgrown ten years old child according to paper.
Or he was losing his mind. That remained on the table, but he was strangely all right with it.
He kept walking. Pasadena was pleasant in a way he didn't expect. Trees lined streets that were too wide for the amount of traffic they carried. People jogged. Dogs were walked. Somewhere, someone was probably doing yoga in a park and feeling very good about their life choices.
Ethan found his supposed apartment after forty minutes of walking and a consultation with his phone's GPS. It was a one-bedroom on the second floor of a building that aspired to be charming and mostly succeeded. The key in his wallet opened the door.
The apartment was lived in. A bookshelf, heavy on history and science fiction, which tracked. A laptop on a desk. A kitchen that was clean in a way that suggested he didn't cook often. Minimal decoration. Several boxes still half unpacked, signaling a recent move. No photos on the walls, but otherwise, how he would have decorated if he lived alone and had some disposable income.
He felt an odd kinship with this version of himself he was apparently replacing. They had similar tastes in loneliness as well.
He spent an hour going through the apartment like a detective at a crime scene. The check-in laptop showed that an email informing that, unfortunately, he had been part of the corporate reduction, but considering it came with a severance, he found himself not complaining.
Not generous like buying a new home, but enough for him not to worry about rent and living expenses for a few months; especially since he had no student loans.
Who would have known that accidental multiversal travel was all one needed to do escape that particular debt.
He smiled. A clean slate with furniture.
Ethan could work with that.
&&&
By early afternoon, he needed to get out of the apartment before the silence started feeling productive. He had a habit of overthinking when left alone too long, but today, he felt free.
And he wanted to celebrate it with a drink. A beer, which he normally wouldn't drink midday, but he decided today would deserve an exception—
Only to freeze when he was passing in front of a coffee shop. Not because the smell was amazing. Not because the cafe was some kind of masterpiece.
It was not.
It was the kind of establishment that believed itself to be cool just because it had exposed brick walls and mismatched furniture and a chalkboard menu written in handwriting that passed as fancy.
The same went for the crowd occupying it. It was half-full. Laptop crowd, mostly. The afternoon shift of remote workers and students who had colonized every available outlet. Soft music that sounded like someone had searched for music more boring than elevator jazz.
Nothing about the shop itself appealed him, but he still pushed the door and entered.
No, his attention was caught by the person behind the counter. A young woman. Pretty, though in a very distinctively, nerdy way. However, that wasn't what caught his attention either. He guessed she was nineteen.
No, he knew she was nineteen. Because he recognized her.
Alex Dunphy.
He recognized her. How could he not, since she was a favorite from one of his comfort shows? Dark hair pulled back in a practical ponytail. Real glasses, not fashion accessories. She wore the café's apron over a flannel shirt and had the slightly impatient expression of someone whose brain was running faster than her current circumstances required.
He decided to be a little crazy. After all, he was already in a new world. What could go wrong?
"Hi," she said, in the tone of someone who had said hi four hundred times today and was running out of enthusiasm for the word. "What can I get for you?"
"Large black coffee," Ethan said. "And whatever you'd recommend if I told you I have no idea what's good here and I don't trust chalkboard menus."
That earned him a flicker of something. Not quite a smile, but the ghost of one.
"The chalkboard is aspirational," she admitted. "Half of those drinks are theoretical. We have the ingredients, technically, but the last person who ordered the lavender oat milk latte had to wait twenty minutes while I figured out where we keep the lavender."
He smiled, enjoying her biting sarcasm that came out. Normally, that would have intimidated him, and he would have taken it as a rejection. But, knowing her life from the TV had its perks, like he knew just how little attention she got from men due to the same intimidation factor, and how easily it could be bypassed.
He just needed to let things slide.
"Black coffee it is."
"Smart choice." She turned to pour it, and Ethan watched her move with the efficiency of someone who'd been doing this long enough to be good at it, but also long enough to start resenting it. She set the cup on the counter. "Three fifty."
He paid. Then, because his instincts told him to and his common sense told him not to, and he'd always been better at listening to the former, he nodded toward the chemistry textbook.
"Organic chemistry in a café. Either you're pre-med, or you lost a very specific bet."
She looked at him for a real moment then. Actually looked, the way people do when they're deciding whether to engage or retreat behind the counter and the safety of professional distance.
"What would you say it's just some fun reading?" she asked.
"I would say it's my lucky day. I'm usually not lucky enough to flirt with women who are both beautiful and smart."
The way her eyes widened in panic was amusing. "You're flirting with me?" she said, her tone indicating shock.
Ethan didn't say anything, but instead grabbed her hand and kissed playfully. Against anyone else, it would never have worked. But Alex was the exception, just dorky enough to take that as effective flirting.
And, if a dumb plant worked, it meant it wasn't a dumb plan. She blushed.
"So, what is such a beautiful and smart woman doing here," he asked, and she blushed even more.
"Sabbatical," she said. "From Caltech."
"Caltech," Ethan repeated, genuinely impressed and not bothering to hide it. "And you're spending your sabbatical pulling espresso shots and reading textbooks in a café?"
"I … I wanted to learn how real businesses work rather than taking a business class," she clarified, and there was something in her voice.
"Oh, not only smart and beautiful but also wise," he said. "If it weren't for your beautiful blush, I would have believed I had no chance."
That didn't help her blush. "Shut up…" she muttered.
"So, how's it going?" he asked, even as he took a sip from his coffee.
She gestured vaguely at the café, the apron, the chalkboard menu. "Living the dream."
"The lavender dream."
This time she actually laughed. It was small and quick, as if she was surprised by it.
"Maybe a movie?" he asked.
"If it is, it has a limited release. Mostly just me sitting in this café questioning my life choices while customers try to order drinks that don't exist, possibly with subtitles."
"Don't forget the pointlessly long take of you sitting down on the floor and looking at the emptiness to make the movie profound."
She chuckled.
Then, they started talking. Ethan didn't have to talk for long. He knew that Alex had too many things to talk about, and not enough people listening. Letting her spill her truth was enough.
One that lasted until the end of her shift, which she only realized when the next in line arrived.
That surprised her. "I'm not usually this forthcoming with strangers. You caught me at a weird point in my shift."
"I'll take it," Ethan said. "I just moved to the area. I wasn't expecting to have a real conversation with anyone for three months, let alone taking a pretty barrista who was also a secret genius on a date."
"A … a date?" she responded, her voice getting thin once again.
"Yes. Right now, a little bar food and a beer. Or anything else you want? How about it?"
Alex studied him again. He could almost see her running calculations, the same way he imagined she approached a problem set. Variables assessed. Risk evaluated.
He didn't let her finish. He leaned slowly, giving her enough time to retreat before he kissed her.
She didn't escape, but her blush was amazing.
Five minutes later, they were at a bar table. "You're not from LA," she decided.
"What gave it away?"
"You made eye contact and didn't immediately talk about yourself, but actually listened. That's unusual in those parts."
"Maybe I'm just building up to it. Give me ten minutes; I'll start pitching you my screenplay."
"If you do, I'm charging you for that third coffee."
"Fair," he said. "You're lucky that I can't take my kiss back," he said, then leaned in to kiss her again. Her blush was incredible.
"S-shut up," she whispered.
"So, Caltech. What's the focus? The organic chemistry would have suggested premed, but you say it's a hobby. Or, maybe it's the beginning of a criminal enterprise."
"Engineering and Physics, double major," she said. "And if I were planning something illegal, I wouldn't read the textbook in public. That's amateur hour."
"Noted. I'll adjust my criminal assessment."
"Please do." She leaned forward, and he struggled not to peek at her cleavage. Her shirt was modest, but her bosom was not, enough to give him a show from this angle.
"What about you? What does a 'just moved to the area' person do?"
"A tale old as time. I got fired due to corporate restructuring, and decided to take a break while I enjoy my severance paycheck for a month or two."
"So, nothing," she teased.
"I'd argue there's a quiet dignity to writing the first five pages of a screenplay that would never finish, but I'd be lying."
She laughed.
"Sorry," she said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I don't … I'm not laughing at you."
"You're absolutely laughing at me, and I'm fine with it."
"Okay, I'm laughing at you a bit. But in a nice way." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're ... easy to talk to. That's not, I don't usually say things like that to … handsome boys."
"I'm happy to be the exception he said, enjoying her attention, not surprised by the speed she was warming up to him.
Not with what he knew. Alex Dunphy. Brilliant, underappreciated, perpetually overshadowed by her family's particular brand of chaos because she had her shit together. She was a smart one who never quite got the recognition she deserved, not from her family, not from her peers, not from the parade of mediocre boyfriends the universe kept throwing at her.
He knew that she was lonely. Not in the dramatic, crying-in-the-rain way that made for good television, but in the quiet, corrosive way that happened to smart people who grew too fast and never learned that in the school.
Ethan sipped his beer, and they talked. Well, mostly talked and occasionally kissed.
Then things shifted. They occasionally talked. And mostly kissed. He continued even when the lines filled his view.
[Achievement complete. Seduce Alex Dunphy
Challenge: Trivial]
[Choose One!]
[+1 Intelligence
1 Random Trash Skill
1 Random Trash Reward]
He didn't even stop before he picked up Intelligence. He didn't know much, but being smarter would never hurt.
They kissed until they were both dazed. So much that Alex didn't question when he tugged her up, and left a hundred-dollar bill on the table, not caring about overtipping.
Alex followed, too interested in the kisses they were sharing to stop. Not even when they arrived at his apartment.
His first day in a new world was going swimmingly. Like ReplyReport Reactions:Neo HDX, NitroQ, jumpmaster707 and 291 othersJesse_DesireMonday at 11:34 PMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 2 View contentJesse_DesireNot too sore, are you?Tuesday at 10:32 PMAdd bookmark#26It took a while for Alex to realize exactly what was about to happen, which was a rare blink in her incredible intelligence. "A-are we?" she suddenly asked.
At this point, not only were they at his apartment but also Alex's shirt was removed, leaving her in her bra and her unbuttoned shirt, sitting on his couch.
Her bra wasn't a fancy model. It was simple, functional, and boring. Well, it would have been boring if they weren't holding back a pair of spectacular breasts, beautiful enough that all she needed was to wear a tube top to graduate from being a nerd.
Ethan smiled. "Only if you want," he whispered as he stopped pulling her jeans down, instead kissing her lips. She was skittish.
Ethan hadn't been too bad when it came to seduction even before finding himself in a new world, but working two jobs had a way of ruining his day.
He let her breathe while he pulled back, but not too much. His hand was still on her leg, caressing her thigh gently, just enough to add to her pleasure without being forceful. He also made sure to flex his shoulders just enough to put his body in the best of ways.
Alex wasn't too inexperienced … but then, she wasn't experienced either, with her poor dating life filled with the kind of exaggerated nerds that only existed in … well, here. It was probably the first time she had caressed a toned body.
"Tell you what," he said as he leaned back, catching her panic. "You have control. I'm under your command."
"R-really?" she asked, surprised by the sudden twist, frozen as she looked at him. She looked at his shirt, grabbing the hem. "Even if I …"
"Even if you want to remove it," he whispered, even as he brushed his hand along her arm, another seemingly innocent touch. Alex didn't say anything for a moment, then she actually removed his shirt. He raised his arms, allowing her to do so.
Then, she looked at his body. He wasn't a pile of muscles, but he was decently fit, meaning he was several steps above anyone she had dated.
He was lucky that it was before her fireman boyfriend.
She didn't say anything, which he took as an opportunity to lean just enough. He didn't kiss her … technically. Instead, he baited her until she lost herself to temptation, and started kissing him.
It was the same reason he lay back, allowing her to climb on top, enjoying the kisses while caressing her back, pushing down the temptation to remove her bra. On top of him, she soon started to feel his erection; her eyes widening. "Is this…"
"Let's just say I don't have a gun in my pocket," he teased, enjoying her blush even as he started moving his hips. She soon started dry-humping him as well, her rising arousal taking over. She started brushing his shoulders and biceps, her fascination showing that it was the first time she was spending time with a halfway decent body.
It was such a pity, he decided even as he grabbed her hips to increase the friction even more. "Give me a show, Alex," he whispered into her ear.
Lost in pleasure, she followed it without thinking. She reached to her back to unhook her bra. A flick was enough to pull them down, revealing her breasts.
Unfortunately, his view interrupted a moment later, when she wrapped her arms around her chest. He saw how quickly fear returned after she had removed her bra, her arms covering the unoccupied spots. "I'm sorry. I'm just not … it's not my usual kind of thing."
"Alex," he whispered as he rose to a sitting position and kissed her. "You're beautiful."
"It's not about that—" she whispered, but it was an obvious lie.
"You're beautiful," he whispered again, even as he used the opportunity to gently direct her arms to the side. "Let me prove it to you," he said, and started teasing her nipples with his lips.
The intensity of her moan surprised him. She was surprisingly sensitive. "Oh, oh…" she gasped, her voice also carrying a hint of surprise.
Poor girl. Her reaction showed that no one paid the necessary attention to her breasts, which was her best feature. Not that other parts of her weren't beautiful, but her breasts were just … incredible.
Lost in her moans, she didn't pay any attention to it when he flipped their position, and she lay underneath him. Nor did she say anything when he tugged her jeans down or got rid of his own, leaving both in only one piece of clothing each.
Her eyes stayed closed, her body trembling as his lips explored her breasts, her sensitivity incredible, like a cheat code. No wonder these mysterious notifications classified seducing her as a trivial challenge.
Initially, his plan was to get rid of her panties to turn that into a passionate rumble, but he changed his mind. Alex deserved to learn the truth of a proper orgasm. He stayed focused on her breasts, but his fingers slipped down, caressing her inner thighs, closing to her core, but not touching.
He didn't want to scare her.
Alex gasped and her chest heaved passionately, but this time, she didn't complain. She said nothing, already lost in passion whose intensity was spectacular. Her hesitant reaction showed just how little she was familiar with her body.
He was planning to slip under her panties, but that was when she started to tremble, her moans loud.
[Achievement complete. Make Alex Dunphy climax properly for the first time.
Challenge: Easy]
[Choose One!]
[+2 Intelligence
1 Random Bronze Skill
1 Random Bronze Reward]
Well, he thought, his eyes widening even as he pulled back, watching her beautiful body tremble with pleasure. He expected her sex life to be limited before she finally met her fireman boyfriend, but her first proper climax?
He considered choosing a skill, but in the end, he went with Intelligence. He didn't know how much it would affect, but surely it was better to have than risk a random reward or skill.
Especially if skills and rewards were related to Alex. The last thing he needed was in-depth science knowledge. Intelligence was more flexible in comparison.
Then, while Alex was busy climaxing, he pulled her panties down, and positioned himself between her legs. "E-Ethan," she gasped, her eyes widening. "What are you doing?"
"Treating you like a princess," he whispered. "Don't tell me you never experienced it," he whispered, then brushed his tongue. Alex moaned, her eyes wide. "Your previous boyfriends must be idiots, then. They should have treated you like the beautiful princess you are."
"B-Beautiful princess," she muttered, her weakness to compliments spectacular.
"Yes," he said, even as he let his lips move down, bit her inner thigh gently before he started licking her. He truly wanted to give her a spectacular night. She deserved it.
Whether he deserved it as well was a different topic, but he was happy to explore it. With his tongue caressing her wetness, she lost the ability to speak quickly, the unfamiliar sensation was quick to drive her toward another orgasm rather rapidly.
She started to speak, but her voice cracked. "Your tongue… amazing…" she managed to mutter.
"Oh, someone has lost their ten-dollar words," he teased, even as he slipped a finger inside.
"S-shut up," she whispered.
"Then, tighten your legs around me, and make me shut up," he ordered. She did, the warmth of her thick thighs enhancing his pleasure even further.
She climaxed again, though this time, he didn't get another reward. Not that he cared. Alex was the reward as she collapsed against the couch, her eyes crossed with pleasure, half unconscious with the pleasure.
"So, Miss Scientist," he whispered, even as he lifted her in a bridal hold, and carried her naked body toward his bedroom. "Describe to me the stars you're seeing."
"You're incorrigible," she whispered.
"And, just like that, the spelling competition is back. I-n-c—" he started.
"S-shut up," she muttered. "Don't mock me."
"I'm not mocking you," he responded, even as he laid her down. "I'm teasing you playfully. There's a difference."
"A-and, what's the difference," she whispered as he laid her down on his bed, hovering above her, naked. Her eyes widened.
"One comes from insecure idiots trying to take you down because they are intimidated by your incredible intelligence. The other comes from a man who is about to make love to you and show you just how beautiful you are," he whispered.
"Oh," she said. His forward declaration robbed her words, but after two spectacular climaxes, she was more in line with what her body needed. Her legs opened, inviting him. He positioned himself even as he cupped her breasts and kissed her at the same time. "I'm on the pill," she also whispered.
That was enough to destroy the last of her hesitation, though he was not surprised that she was prepared for it despite her truly abysmal love life.
When he pressed to her entrance, the only thing she let out was a beautiful whimper, slowly taking his length, her tightness spectacular.
"S-so big," she managed to whisper even as he started pushing deeper, but his movements were gentle, careful. "Yes," she moaned as she took the sensation of being filled for the first time.
Ethan smiled, enjoying his position, especially the way her gaze bounced between his shoulders and his face, her expression between delirium and fascination. After all, he had an ego, and seeing one of his TV crushes swirling underneath desperately was incredibly fun.
"Touch me," she whispered, even as he started moving rhythmically, enjoying her tightness while. He did, exploring every inch of her body either with his fingers or his kisses. "It's so good! So fucking good!" she whispered, her unusual words showing just how far she was lost in pleasure.
He did his job well and continued to invade her, picking up speed once she was able to take him properly.
He squeezed her nipples once he felt the pleasure got too much, triggering another climax for her just as he was about to climax, their bodies matching. He filled her, and her moans filled the room.
[Achievement complete. Seduce Alex Dunphy into your bed the first day of meeting her.
Challenge: Medium]
[Choose One!]
[+5 Intelligence
1 Random Silver Skill
1 Random Silver Reward]
Feeling committed to his path, he decided to pick Intelligence once again. Then, he lay beside her on the bed, the sheets already tangled beneath their sweaty bodies. Alex's chest rose and fell in heavy, uneven breaths, her spectacular breasts still flushed from the aftershocks of her last orgasm.
He couldn't help but imagine just how beautiful they would look with his cum covering them, but he let her recover. She was already on the edge of a collapse even though her beautiful nipples were still hard.
He traced a lazy finger down the valley between her breasts, watching her shiver. As he did so, he closed his eyes, trying to sum and multiply random numbers, curious eight bonus intelligence helped him.
It did … somewhat. He wasn't suddenly a genius, but his thoughts flowed faster. At least, he thought so. Maybe it was the excitement of the moment. Either way, he found himself not caring that much.
"Still seeing stars, Miss Scientist?" he murmured, voice low and teasing.
Alex turned her face toward him, eyes glassy, cheeks burning crimson. "You… you're impossible," she whispered, but there was no bite in it, only a dazed, satisfied smile that made her look younger and far more vulnerable than her usual sharp-tongued persona. Her hand hesitantly came up to rest on his chest, fingers exploring the ridges of his muscles as if she still couldn't quite believe they were real. "I've never… I mean… I don't do such things…"
"I know, Alex," he said with a gentle kiss. "But, you don't need to overthink anything. Just take a deep breath, and enjoy the moment. Three orgasms, back to back, are a rare treat."
"S-shut up," she said, but since she hid her face against his shoulder, embarrassed but clearly pleased, he didn't care much. Her thick thighs pressed together instinctively, a fresh trickle of their combined release slipping down her inner thigh. Ethan noticed and felt himself twitch back to life against her hip. He was still half-hard, the sight and scent of her arousal keeping him ready.
"A-already," she whispered.
"You're beautiful enough to awaken my desires," he responded.
"Can I… touch you?" she whispered. The question was shy, almost clinical in its careful wording, but her eyes had dropped to his shaft, which was thickening visibly under her gaze.
Ethan took her hand and guided it down.
Her fingers wrapped around him tentatively at first, then with growing confidence as she felt him swell and harden fully in her palm. "It's so warm… and heavy," she breathed, stroking slowly from base to tip.
"That feels good," he encouraged, voice rougher now. "Keep going. Explore me like I explored you."
Emboldened, Alex shifted onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow. Her heavy breasts swayed with the movement, brushing against his arm. She experimented with different pressures and speeds, watching his reactions with that brilliant, analytical mind of hers now turned entirely toward pleasure.
When she leaned down and placed a soft, experimental kiss on the head of his cock, Ethan's hand gently threaded into her hair.
"Fuck, Alex…"
She looked up at him through her lashes, then took him into her mouth, her inexperience not stopping her tongue swirling curiously around the crown. Ethan let her set the pace, groaning praises as she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing. The wet heat of her mouth, the way her breasts rested against his thigh, the little sounds she made, all were driving him wild.
He reached up and cupped her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples before pinching lightly. The sensitivity made her cry out and suck harder, even allowing him to push her head down obediently.
"You like that?" he asked, voice husky. She moaned. "Your breasts are so perfect, Alex."
She whimpered in response, losing herself in pleasure once more. Ethan took full advantage, pushing her down, his crown touching her throat. To his surprise, she obediently took him, tempting him to dominate her even further.
Without warning, he pulled her back, threw her on the bed, and took her from behind, pulling her hair. On all fours, her tits swayed with each push, her moans spectacular.
"Oh god! Ethan!" she cried, her hips pushing back.
He fucked her harder this time, her lubricated core taking him easier. Alex's back arched as pleasure invaded her core, and he enjoyed her velvety tunnel that still fluttered from her previous orgasm.
Alex moaned long and loud, desperately grabbing the sheets to maintain control.
"So deep…" she gasped. "You fill me so perfectly."
Soon, her moans got loud enough that he had to bury her head to the pillow in make sure his neighbours didn't interrupt him, his long, strokes making her breasts bounce and sway with every thrust.
The sight was hypnotic; he decided as he reached with one hand, mauling them harder while the other kept her head buried in the pillow. Alex just moaned, her hips urging him deeper.
"Harder," she begged when he pulled her up, surprising even herself. "I want to feel all of you."
Ethan growled and gave her what she asked for. The bed creaked rhythmically as he drove into her, skin slapping against skin.
"You're going to make me come again," she panted, eyes rolling back.
"Good. Come on my cock, princess. Let me feel it," he said, even as he pushed her down, but this time, grabbing her arms and putting her on her back. He kept them tied with one hand, the other landing her surprisingly full hips again and again. Her inexperience allowed him to push her limits.
She moaned even as she climaxed explosively, even more incredible than the previous times, lost in pleasure. Her dazed voice suggested that he might have reached the limit of the evening.
[Achievement complete. Dominate Alex Dunphy in bed.
Challenge: Easy]
[Choose One!]
[+2 Intelligence
1 Random Bronze Skill
1 Random Bronze Reward]
Well, he thought, not surprised by the reward dropping back to easy. Alex was a beautiful, smart, and sexy woman … but hard to lead in bed, she was not.
Not that he cared when he had just experienced what might be the most amazing night of his life.
As he spooned Alex's naked body, he turned his attention
[Novice Cello Expertise]
[Basic Skill: You are somewhat skilled in handling the cello, enough to work as a street musician.]
He hummed, enjoying the way she trembled, dazed. "I didn't know it could be like this," she admitted quietly. "I thought that the explosions that everyone described were just exaggerations…"
"You were just with the wrong people," he said, kissing her neck. "You're incredible, Alex. Smart, funny, and your body responds like it was made for pleasure. Never doubt that."
She blushed again, but her eyelids were already struggling to stay open.
"Sleep," he whispered.
"I-is it…"
"Sleep," he whispered again.
She did. He hugged her, pulled the cover over them, and slept well.
He didn't know why he was in a new world, nor did he care. Like ReplyReport Reactions:Tatorroyer, Neo HDX, MethodicBibliophile and 270 othersJesse_DesireTuesday at 10:32 PMAdd bookmarkView discussionThreadmarks Chapter 3 New View contentJesse_DesireNot too sore, are you?Wednesday at 11:38 PMNewAdd bookmark#46Ethan woke up to the unfamiliar sensation of someone else's warmth.
It took him a moment to process and remember that finding himself in a new world with TV characters was not a dream, but reality, proven by Alex lying in his arms, still sleeping.
He lay still, watching the morning light creep across the ceiling, and let himself enjoy the simple, foreign pleasure of not waking up to darkness. His old apartment in Oregon had a window that faced a brick wall, which meant mornings there came in shades of gray and mold.
Here, the light was golden and warm.
His new life already had perks.
Alex stirred. He felt the exact moment she woke up because her breathing changed, and then her entire body went rigid with the particular tension of someone whose brain had just booted up and started running diagnostics on last night's decisions.
"Morning," he said.
She made a sound. It wasn't a word. It was the vocal equivalent of a blue screen of death.
"I'm going to make coffee," he continued, keeping his tone casual. Not because he was casual about this, but because one of them needed to be, and he had the advantage of not being in mid-panic. "How do you take yours?"
"I… what?" She pulled back, clutching the sheet to her chest, her glasses absent, squinting at him.
"Coffee. The drink you professionally serve to people."
"I know what coffee is," she said, her voice tight.
"Good, I was worried the sabbatical had done some damage."
She stared at him, caught between mortification and something else. Something that wanted to laugh but didn't have permission yet.
"This isn't… I don't do this," she said.
"First time for everything. But right now, breakfast is more important," he said, but before slipping out, he kissed her directly. He didn't wait alone; he didn't ask permission.
She reacted, and he decided breakfast wasn't that important. He pinned her down, her arms above her head, and it turned into a fun morning quickie, leaving her moaning. Only when he collapsed, he pull out. "Now, coffee? Black, or with cream?"
"B-black," she whispered, dazed.
He got out of bed and walked to the kitchen, giving her the space to either spiral or stabilize. He heard rustling behind him, though he realized she didn't have her clothes, as they were still in the living room. He put on his underwear and an apron, betting that she would find it amusing.
His kitchen wasn't stocked for anything impressive, but the previous version of himself had left behind eggs, bread, butter, and a decent block of cheddar. He even had a drip machine.
By the time Alex emerged from the bedroom, wearing an oversized bathrobe, looking like a particularly frazzled academic paper come to life, he had scrambled eggs and toast on two plates, with steaming cups of coffee.
"Sit," he said.
"You don't have to…"
"I know I don't have to do anything, Alex. I want to. Sit."
She sat. She picked up a fork, looked at the eggs with deep suspicion, and took a bite. Then another.
"These are good," she admitted, as if that was the most important thing.
He knew his scrambled eggs were good. After all, that and pasta had been his staples with his economic situation, and he learned quickly.
She smiled down at her plate.
He sat across from her and ate, letting the silence exist without rushing to fill it. He understood that she needed time to rearrange last night into something she could process. Smart people were like that. They needed narratives, explanations, and causes and effects.
"So," she said eventually. "Last night."
"Last night."
"I should probably say something about how I don't normally—"
"You already said that. Twice," he said as he interrupted her. Then, he reached across the small table and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The gesture was small and deliberate, and she froze like a deer in headlights. An adorable deer.
"I had fun," he said simply. "You had fun. The eggs are good. Can we start from there?"
Something in her expression softened. Not completely, but enough.
"The eggs are good," she conceded.
"See? Common ground."
"You look ridiculous," she said, looking at the apron he still wore, but he didn't miss that, even while saying that, her eyes were on his naked shoulders. He smiled, acting as if he didn't notice.
"So, tell me something ridiculous from Caltech?"
She told him about a professor at Caltech who had a habit of writing equations on napkins and leaving them in the faculty lounge. He responded, teasing, and she shivered.
It was easy. Easier than it had any right to be.
"I have a shift at noon," she said eventually, glancing at her phone.
"Go. I'll still be here. After all, we're neighbors, and I always have a cup of coffee for you," he teased.
She blushed, but didn't push him away when he kissed her. He chose not to angle for another round, nor follow her when she grabbed her clothes and disappeared into the bedroom.
When she appeared, she looked just like the day before, only with a thicker blush.
Then she stopped at the door and turned back, looking at him with an expression that was equal parts vulnerability and calculation.
"I want to see you again," she said, as if she were submitting a thesis.
"Good."
"I mean it."
"I know you do. That's why I'm saying good. That's why you need to give me your number," he said, passing her his phone. She did.
"Okay." She adjusted her glasses. "Okay. Good. So ... can I ask something else?"
"Sure," he teased.
"Please don't come to the cafe today. I don't think I can handle it."
He smiled. "Only if you accept an icecream date tonight," he responded.
She smiled. "God, you're such a dork," she whispered, which, coming from a woman who had chain orgasms in his bed, was not exactly an insult. "How about tomorrow? I have a family thing tonight, and if I…"
"Disappear twice, and your family will get nosy. Understood," he teased, and kissed her. "Tomorrow," he confirmed.
She nodded once, turned, opened the door, and immediately stepped back inside, her face drained of color as she shut the door. She even pressed herself against the wall beside the doorframe, doing her best to hide behind the coat rack.
It was so silly, yet cute.
He looked at her, then looked through the peephole, and caught sight of a man walking toward the stairwell. Likely early-thirties or late-twenties, though dressed as a teenager, wearing an unzipped hoodie over a shirt with a flash, walking with the particular posture of someone who tried to hide from the world.
Ethan recognized the man. Interesting.
"Ex-boyfriend?" Ethan teased, despite knowing it was not the case.
"What? No!" She looked almost offended by the suggestion. "He's ... one of my professors. Dr. Hofstadter. He works in the experimental physics department."
"And he lives in my building?"
"He lives in this building?" Alex repeated, her voice climbing an octave. "How?"
"Pasadena's not that big," Ethan offered.
"It's big enough! It has over a hundred thousand people! The statistical probability of—"
"Alex."
"—my professor almost saw me walking—"
"Not some guy. A very charming guy who made you breakfast."
She stopped her spiral long enough to glare at him. It was a good glare. Practiced. But, it came with a cute blush. "This isn't funny."
"I disagree. It's very funny."
"If he sees me—"
"He didn't see you. He was too busy reading his phone on the stairs. And even if he did, you're an adult on sabbatical. It's hardly shame."
She didn't say anything, blushing. Ethan laughed. Then, because she was standing there looking simultaneously terrified and adorable, glasses slightly askew from her recent attempt to become one with the coat rack, he stepped forward, cupped her face, and kissed her again.
She made a small, surprised noise, which was rapidly replaced by the more interesting noise of someone who had temporarily forgotten her academic reputation was at stake as her tongue matched his.
When he pulled back, her cheeks were red, and she was slightly out of breath.
"I hate you," she said without conviction.
He just smiled and kissed her again.
"No," she admitted. "I don't." She adjusted her glasses again, a nervous tic that he was already cataloguing as one of his favorite things. "Tomorrow. After my shift. No ice cream. I'll come here and…" she declared, then paused, her courage faltering.
"We'll watch a movie," he helped.
"Yes. Movie. A boring, old movie … about church."
He kissed her again. "Perfect."
She opened the door, checked the hallway with the intensity of a spy in a cold war thriller, and then slipped out, her steps quick and light on the stairs.
Ethan closed the door and leaned against it, grinning at the ceiling.
Hhe walked to his laptop.
After all, meeting a character from another show was not something he expected. Curious, he went to his laptop and started searching the web. A quick check of the Caltech website showed Leonard, Sheldon, Raj, and Howard were on the faculty. Though, a quick mention of their very recent return from the Arctic confirmed put the timeline to the third season start.
Fascinating, he decided. But, more importantly, he had a growing suspicion that it wasn't the only TV show he was interacting with.
He started searching, checking the web. He had a list of shows in his head, comfort watches from a life that suddenly felt very far away, and each one had characters that existed in specific places, doing specific things.
He searched for Columbia University's paleontology department in New York. Soon, he found
Dr. Ross Geller. Museum curator at the New York Museum of Natural History, younger than he expected in the picture. A quick digging showed that he was recently divorced … which, technically wouldn't have meant much, but considering the ex-wife in question was Carol, it meant it was once again earlier seasons.
A quick check showed other things. A firm called Vandelay, Druthers and Brody, with a Ted Mosby on staff. A community called Greendale in Colarado, with a rather horrible commercial from the seventies. A jingle writer named Charlie Harper, living in Malibu, Precint 99 in Brooklyn, led by Captain Raymond Holt.
He smirked as he took the details, feeling even happier. All of his favorite shows turned real…
The world was his oyster.
As much as he was tempted to book a one-way ticket to New York to meet all of them, he didn't need to hurry up. Not when there were others he could meet far more easily.
He left the house after changing his sheets, his destination three steps away . First, he stopped by a pawnshop, and purchased a decent cello, a little test enough to confirm his skill. The best part, it came with some rudimentary music knowledge.
However, just before leaving, he saw a decent, professional-looking digital camera, which could also record decent-quality video. "How much for it?"
"Together, six hundred," he replied. It was cheap, very cheap.
Ethan paid without bargaining after taking a few pictures and saw that the camera worked. After all, in his next step, playing the artist would be very useful.
He wasn't exactly an experienced photographer, but playing around with the camera, he immediately experienced the benefit of Intelligence. He could improve faster than he had expected.
Soon, he was at a rather memorable restaurant.
Cheesecake Factory.
He walked in and asked for a table for one, which would have earned him the particular look that hostesses reserved for people who dined alone at places designed for groups, but since the lunch rush was over, his presence was a bonus.
He glanced quickly to see the section served by a familiar, perky blonde waitress, and picked an empty booth, and put his camera on the table. He didn't need to work hard to make his cello visible; it automatically was.
"How can I help you?" Penny said with a big smile, though the neutral kind that existed to collect tips rather than genuine enjoyment.
"How about a double cheeseburger and coke, simple," he said.
"Big lunch," she said.
"Comfort food," he said with a sigh.
"Why?" she asked.
"Terrible audition," he said with a deep sigh.
"Oh, really, for what?"
"An indie horror flick," he said with a sigh. He wasn't an actor, but luckily, a failing actor-screenwriter was the easiest thing to fake. "Unfortunately, the director had … opinions about how black hair would look on his favorite background prop, like it matters for a character that'll be on the screen for thirty seconds—" he continued, then paused. "Sorry about it. I'm rambling," he said. "I'm sure you're not really interested in my stories of failure."
"I am," she answered enthusiastically. He threw her a suspicious glance, as if she had insulted him, as her short reply could be taken that way. "I mean, I'm an aspiring actress as well. This is my day job," she corrected in panic.
"Oh, I see. A fellow traveler on the road of fame," he said with a gentler smile. "I'm Ethan," he said.
"What's with the cello?" she asked.
"A way to make some extra cash between auditions," he said.
"Why not a guitar?" she asked.
"People pay attention to it even without expecting singing," he said. "I don't have the best singing voice."
"So, musicals are out."
"Unless the theme is torture," he said, and she chuckled, this time genuinely.
He didn't flirt with her openly, but he didn't need to. "I'll bring your food immediately," she said, and left with a wink.
Penny, he sighed.
She was blonde, genuinely beautiful, the kind of beautiful that usually came with an attitude. While she was gone, he looked around and soon saw another familiar face. Tiny, blonde, with an energy that suggested she'd had three espressos and a personal vendetta against idle time.
Bernadette.
She was in the same waitress uniform as Penny, carrying a tray of drinks with the determined efficiency of someone who treated every task like a research project. He didn't have the perfect timeline in his mind, as even without his new world issues, sitcom timelines were tricky.
But, the fact that she was working here meant that she either didn't start dating Howard, or it was early into their relationship. Not that he cared.
He never liked Howard.
Or Leonard, for that matter.
Instead, while waiting for his lunch, he wondered just how many shows were folded in. He didn't know the rules, the boundaries, or the limits. He didn't know if these people's lives would follow the same trajectories he'd watched on screen, or if his presence had already changed things.
He shrugged. What he did know was that he was sitting in the Cheesecake Factory, about to flirt with Penny and Bernadette, with the possibility of seducing another of his favorite characters.
Anything else didn't matter.
"You're in a good mood for someone eating alone after a failed audition," Penny observed once she returned with his food.
"I'm having a good day. Never write off a day until it ends," he said.
Penny smiled again. This one was warmer. "A good attitude. Sometimes, getting rejected audition after audition gets hard."
"I can see why. Luckily, I have just started it, so my hope is still alive," he said. "I can't promise I won't be as chipper three months later."
"Hopefully, you'll get lucky," she said.
Ethan nodded, doing his best to ignore the temptation to flirt with her openly. At this point, she should have just started dating Leonard, meaning an overt approach wouldn't work.
It wasn't as if he lacked the opportunities for other encounters.
"So, any notable acting jobs?" he asked.
"Not unless you count understudy in a basement production of Rent," she said.
"Tough," he said. "I'll keep in mind to drop any casting calls I see." She paused for a moment. He didn't say anything, then acted surprised. "Something's wrong with it?"
Penny studied him for another beat, then nodded, the way ladies noddded when they've decided a guy passes some invisible test. "Honestly?" she asked. He nodded. "I expected it to be an attempt to ask for my number," she said.
"It's rude to hit on people on the clock," he said. Then, he remembered how he seduced Alex while she was on the clock. "Well, unless they are giving the signal."
She smiled. "Most guys would take asking about an audition as one," she said.
He shrugged. "Ordinarily, yes. But since you're a serious actress, it counts as shop talk," he said. "Now, if you asked my favorite song on cello…"
She smiled playfully. "What's your favorite song on the cello?"
"Thunderstruck," he replied.
"AC/DC, you're kidding," she said. "I expected Beethoven."
"Nope. Though I'm still trying to get it right," he said. "It's slow going, but I have a feeling it'll be a good hit on the streets."
"What's with the camera, then?"
"That's more of a hobby for now," he replied. "I want to expand it to cinematography to shoot my own short movies, but proper cameras are expensive."
"How expensive?"
"Around five thousand, probably tripling it with a decent lighting setup," he said.
"Ouch, that's more than my car," she said.
He chuckled, but before they could continue, another customer arrived, interrupting their fun. Ethan would have worked harder, but knowing he was sharing an apartment, it was easy. He straddled the line between overt flirtation and professional talk, and didn't ask for her number.
Also, he overtipped reasonably well, which was always a good way to leave a positive impression.
Then, he left, wondering what to do next in this new world. Like ReplyReport Reactions:Neo HDX, MethodicBibliophile, NitroQ and 241 others