She looks shyly up at you. "Yeah?"
You nod decisively. "Of course."
There's only a small desk in here, littered in scraps of paper and magazines, with a single chair tucked in beside it. You step over to examine it. Most of the magazines are fashion magazines, although surprisingly, you can see a few cooking magazines in there— and a single edition of Playboy, although you can only see the name of it. The Playboy magazine has been casually tucked beneath the fashion magazines, and it's only because you have so much experience with staring at their covers that you can recognize the half-revealed 'PLA' left uncovered by the other magazines.
It's the scraps of paper you find more interesting. There are sketches of dresses and shirts on them. A lot of them aren't drawn to proportion, and you can see a worn eraser off to the side of the desk. It's obvious that Madison is still practicing her skills.
Fashion design, cooking, and a willingness to explore her own sexuality. It looks like there's more to Madison than just her cuteness and her popularity after all.
"Um, yeah," the girl in question speaks up behind you. "I keep asking Daddy for a bigger desk, but he says that one's fine. I was thinking we could just sit on the bed and go over it."
You turn to face her, taking note of the textbook in her hands. "No," you say. Her face falls, but before she can begin to look too disappointed, you continue, "I think the desk will do just fine."
"Huh?" she asks inelegantly.
Rather than answer her verbally, you step back around her to close her door so nobody can look in, then step back over and take her hand, pulling her with you. She doesn't resist, moving willingly with you. You take a few steps backwards— still holding her hand— and sit in the chair, adjusting your position to make yourself comfortable. Then, you pull Madison forwards, and seat her on your lap. She lets out a soft sigh as she tucks herself comfortably against you, placing the chemistry textbook on the desk in front of you so her hands are free to rest on her lap.
You're taller than Madison. Only by two or three inches, it's not usually very noticeable, but you're tall enough that you're able to rest your chin on her shoulder. She lets out another soft sigh as you do so, tilting her head so her cheek rests against your own. You swap, finally, from the constant low-level adjustment of her lust you've been doing until now over to a stronger touch to her submission.
From here, you can see straight down her shirt.
"Nice bra," you murmur. And indeed, it is a nice bra. You suspect that if you weren't peering down her shirt like this, you wouldn't be able to see it. It's a little silky slip of a thing, barely large enough to cover her nipples— you can see her aerola from here, and even a hint of the nipples contained within. The dark black of the material contrasts well with her milky skin.
"Thanks," she breathes. "Y-you mentioned you like black, earlier today..."
You reward her by turning your head and pressing a kiss to her cheek, on the corner of her mouth. "I do," you affirm. Another kiss, and she turns her head towards you, looking at you through lidded eyes. "It looks even better on you than I thought." You slowly slide one hand under her shirt, leaving it to rest against her stomach; your other hand comes up to cup the back of her head.
"Mm," she moans. "D— does that mean you w-want me to wear more like it...?"
You slide your hand further up her shirt, coming to rest just short of her breasts, and chuckle when she lets out a frustrated sigh. "Yes," you reply reassuringly. "I would very much like that." And you tilt your head to press a kiss fully on her lips.
She kisses you back, groaning softly as you finally reach up and begin caressing her bra-clad breasts. You tease your fingers around the edge of the bra for a moment, but— enjoying her frustrated groans entirely too much— you don't slip your fingers beneath it, instead cupping them and gently rubbing her hard nipples through the material. She opens her mouth to groan again, and you take the opportunity to slip your tongue in, circling Madison's tongue with your own.
You barely remember to turn off your power before Madison eagerly sucks on your tongue, and your mind goes blank.
You never do end up going over that Chemistry work.
"Madison!" The call comes from downstairs. You jerk away from each other, each of you panting hard. Madison's face is beet-red, and her hair is mussed where you tangled your hand in it. Even that could be hidden, but you suspect it's going to be harder to hide her swollen lips— and your own.
"In a minute!" she calls loudly, trying to disguise her laboured breathing from her parents. "Shit, Taylor, I got too— I should have kept better track of the time, and now-"
"It's fine," you interrupt her gently. You gently squeeze her nipple through her bra one last time, then regretfully slip your hand out from under her shirt. She makes no move to climb off your lap, though, or even twist back into a more comfortable position; and you have no desire to encourage her to get off you any time soon.
She shakes her head. "No, I should have kept a better track of time. I just got... caught up. Um, how are you getting home..." Her hands begin to shake slightly, and you can feel nervousness and anticipation coming off her. "... Or would you like to stay for dinner? I don't know if your Dad is okay with that, but, um, if you want you could stay. We probably won't be able to, um, but I'd like it if you... yeah." She flushes again, a deeper red this time.
Hm.
[] Accept the offer, and stay for dinner with Madison's parents. This is a chance for you to make a good impression on Madison's parents, and not have to sneak through Madison's window any time you want to visit her (although the thought of such forbidden clandestine visits sends a thrill through you). And you've learned some interesting things about Madison today. Who knows what more you might learn?
— Success chance: 70%.
— On a success, raises Taylor's reputation with Madison's family, allowing her easy access to Madison's house— until, that is, Taylor completely steals Madison for herself, and access to Madison's house will no longer be necessary. This vote increases Madison's Affection by 2. This vote is also the first opportunity (of many) to characterize Madison outside of her sexual appeal to Taylor.
— On a failure, lowers Taylor's reputation with Madison's family, preventing her from openly visiting Madison within her house. Taylor will have to sneak into Madison's room to visit her at her home— until, that is, Taylor completely steals Madison for herself, and access to Madison's house will no longer be necessary. This vote increases Madison's Affection by 2. This vote is also the first opportunity (of many) to characterize Madison outside of her sexual appeal to Taylor.
[] Regretfully turn down the offer, but make sure to give Madison a (thorough) goodnight kiss— and a subtle reinforcement of the progress you've made today. Sadly, you have to get home and begin working on your plans for how you're going to form your own parahuman team.
— Success chance: 100%.
— On a success, increases Madison's Affection by 1. Taylor will go home and begin researching parahumans she might seduce to join her forming team, giving a broad-level overview of the capes in Brockton Bay (including some who were not in canon) and revealing some hidden characters. This vote is the first opportunity (of many) to begin the recruitment of Sundancer and Rune.
— On a failure, Taylor will go home and begin researching parahumans she might seduce to join her forming team, giving a broad-level overview of the capes in Brockton Bay (including some who were not in canon) and revealing some hidden characters. This vote is the first opportunity (of many) to begin the recruitment of Sundancer and Rune. This vote cannot be failed.
[] Regretfully turn down the offer, but make sure to give Madison a (thorough) goodnight kiss. Taylor has to go visit the library before it closes, so she can research the local parahuman scene and make absolutely sure she knows what she's getting into before she enacts her plans.
— Success chance: 50%.
— On a success, increases Madison's Affection by 1. Taylor will go to the library and begin researching the local parahuman scene, giving a broad-level overview of the current cape scene in Brockton Bay and presenting future paths for Taylor's team to expand down. This vote is the first opportunity (of many) to begin the recruitment of Tattletale and Panacea.
— On a failure, Taylor will go to the library and begin researching the local parahuman scene, giving a broad-level overview of the current cape scene in Brockton Bay and presenting future paths for Taylor's team to expand down. This vote is the first opportunity (of several) to begin the recruitment of Panacea and another hidden character.
1.4
> Success chance: 70%
> Necessary roll: 30. Rolled: 100. Critical success.
> What a useless post to crit on. See end of vote for more information.
You press another kiss against Madison's lips, although regretfully, you don't slip your tongue in this time— her parents are waiting down below, and there are already enough signs of your make-out session, you don't need to make them even more suspicious.
Still, you linger for more than a few seconds, and can't help but run your tongue against her lower lip again, enjoying the delicious way she shivered against your body.
She mewls when you pull back, looking up at you with an adorable pout. A rush of affection flows through you, and you press a swift kiss to her nose before you reply to her invitation.
"Dad said he was going to be home late," you murmur. "I'd love to stay for dinner." You conspicuously refuse to add "if your parents are okay with it". Honestly, you don't care if Madison's parents approve of it, or you, except in how their approval or disapproval might make it harder for you to continue your relationship with your girl.
Luckily, Madison either doesn't notice or doesn't care. A bright grin steals over her face, and she presses a quick, wet kiss to your lips before clambering off your lap and straightening her clothes. You begin to miss having her there immediately; you instinctively start to generate plans on how to get her back there, wrapped securely in your presence and unable to resist your advances again.
"I'll go down and tell Daddy," she giggles, now attempting to run her hands through her hair and give it some semblance of neatness again. "Uh, you're not allergic to anything, are you?"
"Nope," you reply with satisfaction. When you were younger, you'd had a scare when the doctor told you you were allergic to some foods (although you hadn't minded too much when he'd told you you weren't allowed to eat shellfish any more, blech), but the allergies had grown much less severe as you grew older. Nowadays, you could eat pretty much anything you wanted. The only thing you had to watch was your figure, not that you have much of a figure to watch.
She coos happily. "We're having pasta for dinner tonight," she informs you. "Come on, I'll show you the way."
The Clements' dining room is much fancier than your own. That's what happens when a family has more money, you suppose; your father accepted a heavy pay cut when the mayor was negotiating with Igneous to bring her to Brockton Bay, and it'd left the two of you strapped for money for a while. A sharp contrast against the two Clements parents, who Madison casually informed you are in the property management business (her mother) and as a restaraunt manager (her father) as she led you down to the dining room.
Your own furniture at home was an eclectic mix of IKEA furniture, furniture bought from a cheap second-hand store with an oddly friendly clerk, and a coffee table the two of you had built by hand that the two of you jokingly referred to as Frankenstein's Monster. You quite enjoyed it; it had its own rustic charm to it. Your own dining table had been rescued from thrift store workers who had been going to throw it out, since the paint on it had been cracking and it had been missing a leg. Kurt and Lacey, two of your father's friends, had come over on the weekend and helped you fix it up.
The Clements, on the other hand— although the girl sitting beside you hasn't made any mention of it, you wouldn't be surprised if they'd hired an interior designer to come in and design their house for them. The furniture, a sleek mix of curved grey metal and black-tinted glass, definitely didn't look like it came IKEA.
Your mouth is suddenly dry, and you take a small sip from the glass of water Madison's younger brother had put in front of you before he took a seat. You hadn't felt this inadequate about your family's financial situation since the last time you visited Emma's house. Suddenly, you wish you'd asked Madison to stay with you, instead of letting her go help her father in the kitchen.
It doesn't take long for Madison's father, a tall and muscle-bound man wearing a pair of thick glasses and a frilly pink apron, to sweep out of the kitchen bearing a large pot. He wanders around the table with the pot in one hand, and Madison follows him around with a large slotted spoon, doling out servings of carbonara to everyone. She takes extra care with yours, making sure to leave just the right amount of sauce on your plate and casually checking to ensure the bowl of chopped parsley is near to hand.
Still, nobody begins eating until the two have gone back to the kitchen and put the dirty dishes in the sink. Madison subtly edges her chair closer to yours when she returns, and beneath the table, grabs your left hand with her own right as she inexpertly begins twirling pasta onto her fork with her left hand.
After she finishes the mouthful of food, she looks at her father speculatively. "Pancetta this time?" she asks, surprise colouring her tone. "I thought you decided on prosciutto."
He chuckles, a deep, rich sound. "I had," he admits. "It was difficult to balance the flavours, so I decided to try pancetta instead. Mark tried to get me to take some weaker prosciutto instead, but I wanted to try sautéing the pancetta to complement the sauce. Do you think it worked?"
In lieu of answering, she takes another mouthful of food, this time chewing it slowly and somehow thoughtfully. Even after she swallows it, she takes a few moments to consider.
"It works, but the pancetta's flavour is a little weak," she decides. "The sauce overpowers it. If you used a little less stock in the sauce, it might balance out."
He chuckles again. "Exactly my thoughts," he says proudly. "Although I think I'll try flavouring the pancetta with thyme rather than basil instead. The pasta itself doesn't have much taste, so I don't want to reduce the flavours if I can help it."
