Day of Tomes, 13th of Suhin, Year 401

Rory: So the tart is fed?

Layla: Oh, so satisfied. ｡◕‿‿◕｡

Erin: It wasn’t like that… wait, how are you doing that?

Jack: How are you doing that?

Layla: shia_lebeouf_magic.gif

Layla laughed in the dim bathhouse. The emojis were just about focusing on what she wanted to show up in the chat. Jack had done it and not even realized.

Just parlor tricks.

The succubus laid in the tub, tempted to reach down and finish what she and Erin had started, but it wouldn’t make what was left of the desire any better. Instead, she stood up and allowed her Mirage to wash over her skin, reshaping her appearance.

She stepped out of the bath, enjoying the simple pleasure of moving without pain. It seemed like a lifetime ago she’d fussed at Rory about her body being a shit-show in the cave, but it remained just as valid now. She hadn’t even hit thirty, and back home she already walked like an old woman. Getting out of the bathtub was a whole ordeal, and that was if the hot showers she favored didn’t end in a migraine, courtesy of rapid temperature change. Course, cold showers also sometimes ended in a migraine. Lukewarm showers too. With a head that didn’t hurt at all, she could be honest with herself. Most things ended in a migraine.

She knew one thing that was gonna happen later tonight that wouldn’t end in a migraine. There would probably be flashing lights and a lot of moaning, but it wouldn’t be because her head hurt.

She giggled at herself in the dim light, then walked to the changing area and began drying off with the towels provided by the inn. Once she was satisfactorily dehumidified, she picked up the outfit she had worn downstairs and began to dress.

The clothes were damp from sitting in the bathhouse for five hours.

“Fuck it. Stiff upper lip. Put em on, back upstairs, change into something dry,” she groaned and began pulling the moist clothes over her head.

“Ew,” she held her arms away from her body and her legs apart as she waddled out the bathhouse door and across the taproom to the stairs.

Tilly stood behind the bar, cleaning glasses and making small talk with a dwarf wearing a knit cap and a light jacket. She looked up as Layla toddled across the floor like a cat that had fallen into the bathtub and regretted having ever been borne and immediately burst out laughing.

“Oh, yer less wrinkled than I expected, lassie!” she tittered.

“I don’t know you well enough to say ‘fuck you’, Tilly, so just store that one for next month when we’re closer friends,” Layla grumbled at her and continued to totter toward the stairs.

She ascended the staircase, legs splayed wide to keep the damp, frigid dress off her thighs, taking the steps like a drunken crab making for the seashore. Peals of dwarven laughter haunted her all the way to the top of the steps.

“I’ll get you, my pretty, and your little inn, too!” she yelled back down the stairs, then resumed waddling to her room.

When she reached her room, she fished the heavy key out of her bodice and unlocked the door, then hobbled inside.

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“Yeccchhhh,” she threw the blouse off and dropped the moistened skirt on top of it.

Just as she bent over to rummage through her rucksack for a dry outfit, she heard a pair of heavy footsteps behind her.

“Hey, El, you wanna go get- OH SHIT, you’re buck ass naked!” Erin covered her eyes.

“You just spent like an hour in the tub with me, completely naked, AFTER spending like ten minutes pressed against me with our mouths welded together while having multiple orgasms. Give the Virgin Mary act a rest,” Layla rolled her eyes, then wiggled her naked butt at the dreadnought for fun.

“Yeah, but… I… but… yeah, but… you left your door open,” Erin sputtered.

“I mean, yeah. How else is some sexy adventurer with flowing auburn hair, piercing green eyes, and sexy washboard abs gonna walk past my door, notice my alluring and comely form, and sneak inside and have their way with me. It’s a Penthouse Forum classic,” she stuck her tongue out.

“You realize, I have auburn hair and green eyes,” Erin scowled at her.

“And sexy washboard abs, mmph,” Layla bit her lip and gave the dreadnought some very suggestive eye contact.

“Ugh, get dressed you… tart. We’re gonna go have lunch,” she sighed.

“You gonna give me a minute?” Layla waved at her nakedness.

Erin’s eyes followed Layla’s hand, then her gaze abruptly shot back up to the succubus’ eyes, a blush of pink crossing her cheeks.

“I’ve already seen the show. Hurry up. I’m starving,” Erin groused.

“God, me too, tall, pale, and absolutely edible,” Layla’s eyes turned gold as Erin watched.

Layla swayed her hips as she walked toward the other woman, hands running up her body. Erin watched her with the expression of a rabbit, frozen because it’s seen a snake.

Then the dreadnought’s eyes narrowed and she snatched the succubus’ arm, yanked her off balance, and turned her toward the bed. She reached back, and slammed an open palm into Layla’s bare bottom, causing the smaller woman’s feet to briefly leave the ground and her to tumble forward onto the mattress.

“Enough of that shit, you turd. You’re pushing your luck,” Erin growled.

“Oh my fucking god,” Layla moaned into the mattress. “Do that again.”

“You’re fucking IMPOSSIBLE. I’m gonna have lunch by myself!” Erin turned to walk out.

“Legs, WAIT! I’m sorry. I’ll behave,” Layla sprang up from the bed.

Erin spun around and jabbed a pointed finger at her.

“You WILL behave. No more sexy succubus bullshit today,” Erin’s face flushed again.

“Yes, ma’am. No more sexy succubus bullshit… today,” Layla smirked.

Layla quickly brushed out her hair and threw on one of the summer outfits they’d been gifted in Mistelein, all of which had deep v-cuts in the bodice. She didn’t even arrange for it to happen that way. The villagers literally just gave her only blouses that showed off her cleavage. She figured somewhere, there was a horny tailor’s apprentice that had been responsible for sorting their gifts.

“I look good enough to be seen in public?” she asked Erin.

“You look like a playboy centerfold, wearing medieval rags. You’re an asshole,” Erin scowled.

“Pfft. Have you seen yourself lately? You look like the cover of Sports Illustrated fitness edition, or one of those Instagram models that make a million dollars a year wearing push-up sports bras and doing super slow curls into the camera, covered in misting spray and body oil,” Layla laughed.

The succubus rolled her hair into a pair of ponytails, tied them around themselves, and pinned the whole shebang up in a pair of buns.

“You really think I look hot?” she asked Erin.

“Shut up. You’re like a goddamn walking wet dream. You look like every girl in college softball that made me question whether I really wanted to be dating boys,” Erin scowled again.

“Aawwww,” Layla grabbed her coin purse and tucked it into her bodice, then bounced up and planted a chaste kiss on the dreadnought’s cheek.

Layla skipped out the door to her room and her footsteps clacked down the stairs. Erin reached up and touched her cheek where the succubus’ lips had left a warm, glowing sensation.

Then she rolled her eyes and stomped down the stairs after the aggravating little shit.

“Even odds, she doesn’t make it through the day without getting falcon punched,” she growled to no one in particular.