#gntlets.

a smile, small yet no less tender, pulls at the corner of gert's mouth at the feel of lips pressing softly against her forehead. the familiar swell of affection that thumps in her chest elicits a deep exhale as her eyes remain closed for a moment longer to bask in the domesticity of it all. " morning. " a content hum, groggy with a lingering exhaustion, reverberates in her throat at the sight that greets her. they aren't sure they'll ever get used to it. having somebody. in any capacity.

" violet . . . " arms folded loosely across her chest, sharp features deadpan save for the wary raise of her brow, blue eyes flicker between vi and the jar being tossed effortlessly between her hands — the very jar caitlyn had previously tried, and failed, to open. not for a lack of effort; in fact, she'd struggled for a lengthy five minutes before her frustrations got the better of her. if broad, leather donned frame hadn't come striding through the door to witness her futile attempts, then the offending object would have been placed right back into the cupboard it had been retrieved from.

ambessa, over her brief period of observation, found her interest piqued by violet. a strong little wolf, no doubt. fearless and headstrong in her approach to everything, even the matriarch of war herself. it brought her some measure of ire swirling within her intrigue: those who were not afraid of her might foolishly believe themselves harbouring a strength mighty enough to challenge her. something that, over her brutal and merciless years, had been proven time and time again to be a futile endeavour.

the unwarranted body that lands in her lap fails to startle her — the sudden weight comparable to that of a lamb — but instead elicits a smirk that curls at the corners of scarred lips, amused and goading. violet had been ranting, pacing back and forth before ambessa's slouched position, about something so inconsequential she had opted to merely tune out. the gilded chalice of wine held between a sizeable hand, brimming with ruby red wine, fails to even teeter with the disruption.

one arm, possessing her drink, is draped over the back of the plush lounge she'd long since claimed as her own during her unprecedented residency. the other is at her side, palm resting atop an impressively thick thigh. it seemed that, when another bout of drivel began to pour from the others mouth, she'd spun too quickly on her heel; the rug slipping with the swift turn.

with the new addition to her lap, ambessa's languorous form does not shift — all but the hand that had previously been residing in violet's current position remains as was. unabashed in her every move, as she always was, an empty hand settles across her hip. if there was one thing about the warlord, it was that she took great pleasure in pushing. poking and prodding to better decipher those around her.

a smile, deceitfully tender, stretches across margot's lips; painted in their signature dark, borderline black, green. hips swaying as she saunters over to her seated companion, she stops when she's stood before her, and there's no attempt to hide the shameless way pink eyes rake over spread thighs — which she wastes no time in deeming an appropriate place to use as her own personal seat.

one hand outstretched to find purchase on a deliciously broad shoulder, the baroness lifts a knee to slot against the outside of her leg. as the other shifts, swinging over to straddle violet's lap, she lowers her weight onto her entirely, their hips pressed impossibly close in a way that makes margot's heart ( or lack thereof ) thrum delightfully in its cage of bone. her free hand wraps around a larger one to pull it closer, guiding it to rest on her hip.

" you know — " margot starts, voice no louder than a sultry whisper. releasing the hand she'd grabbed, a gloved finger raises to her mouth, teeth catching shining leather between them to draw it off slowly: sensually. it's then dropped to the floor with little to no regard, now bare digits — icy cold to the touch — trailing dangerously over violet's jaw.