#Speakeasy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jadedvibes · 2 years

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Easy

Summary: An impromptu night out at a local speakeasy results in you waking up next to your crush.

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: 18+ only, alcohol, shy!reader, drunk shenanigans, dancing, lots of fluff, flirting and cuddles, swearing, very minor angst, modern au.

Word Count: 4.2k

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“C’mon, you have to come out with us tonight! It’ll be so fun,” Sharon exclaimed.

Steve walked into your living room. “Yeah, come with us, it’s been forever since we all went out together.”

“Ahh, I wish I could. There’s a new episode of my favorite murder podcast that dropped and I need to catch up. Busy night,” you insisted.

You couldn’t help but feel like a third wheel whenever you went out with the couple. While you loved spending time with them, getting drunk and being in their company usually led to you feeling quite lonely. You weren’t usually a sad drunk, but lately whenever you drank you couldn’t help but long for something similar to what they had. Pairing alcohol with a sappy couple to watch felt like a recipe for a minor breakdown, and you weren’t up for that.

“What if I said I got the password for that newly renovated speakeasy we’ve been wanting to check out?” Steve quirked an eyebrow.

Your ears perked up, you had all been wanting to check out that elusive bar since it reopened. Taking a moment to contemplate, you considered sucking it up and going just for the cool venue. But unfortunately it wasn’t enough to change the way you were feeling, so you shook your head. “Maybe another time.”

Steve nodded, “That’s too bad, Bucky’s coming out with us tonight and I thought it’d be nice for the four of us to spend some time together.”

Your wide eyes flickered to Sharon, a subtle smirk on her lips. You cleared your throat and looked down, not wanting Steve to know you had a crush on his roommate. “He’s um, gonna be there?”

“Yeah, he texted me confirming it a little while ago.”

Sharon chimed in, “It’ll be fun, promise. And if you’re not feeling it, we can go home or stop at a diner before calling it a night.”

“Well I guess that’s true… okay yes, I’ll go.”

The prospect of spending some time with Bucky would have gotten you to tag along just about anywhere. And while you didn’t know him very well, boy did you want to.

Sharon noticed the way you were eyeing him after you met him for the first time a few weeks back, and ever since she’s tried to convince you to make a move or stop by their apartment with her. You’d only seen him a few times in passing, but he had made an impact. Enough for your brain to fantasize and wish to know more.

Nevertheless, you were scared, afraid of the potential rejection and subsequent embarrassment that could come if you put yourself out there.

Meeting up as a group at a dusky bar was a good alternative.

┈┈┈┈┈・・

The ride over was faster than expected, stepping out of the subway, you trailed behind the happy couple as they walked hand in hand to the nightclub across the street. You missed the dark-haired man lingering near the entrance until Steve greeted him.

“Hey Buck, you didn’t wait long did you?” Steve asked.

“No, I just walked over a minute ago. Nice to see you ladies,” he gave you and Sharon a broad, radiant smile. His gaze lingered on yours for a second before returning to his best friends. “Shall we?”

Steve nodded and the four of you headed inside. Bucky let Steve and Sharon walk in first, then trailed closely behind you – you suppressed a smile when you felt his hand ghost along your lower back, gently navigating you through the throngs of patrons.

The front end of the bar was busy, with loud music blasting as people lined the bar, others sitting in the booths on the opposite side of the room. A little ways in was a dance floor, with lasers beaming over the people gleefully dancing.

The dance floor was packed, so Steve looked to you and Bucky, gesturing towards the black door at the very back of the club. Your final destination was through that door. You nodded and he went on to lead Sharon through the crowd.

Before you could feel yourself get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people you’d have to amble through, you felt Bucky’s hand leave your lower back to grab yours firmly. With your hand securely in his, he guided you through the swaying people with ease, ensuring your path was clear, until all too quickly you were in front of the door. You felt a tinge of disappointment when he released your hand, but he had no reason to hold it any longer; it was lovely while it lasted.

Steve spoke the password through a small retractable window in the door, and then the door opened. The moment you all walked in you felt an entirely different vibe; red smoky dim lighting, a live band playing soft jazz in the corner, vintage boudoir art lining the exposed brick walls, and a couple bartenders in vests and bow ties to complete the aura. It was a stunning blast from the past, and as an added bonus there weren’t nearly as many people inside the speakeasy.

You settled into a crimson leather booth seated next to Bucky, opposite Steve and Sharon. The ambience was more laid back inside and you felt at ease because of it.

A waitress in a black flapper costume came over to take your drink orders – the novelty of the place was their specially crafted beverages; mint julep, white linen, gin rickey, the bees knees and numerous more carefully chosen to fit the prohibition era theme. Sharon quickly suggested a round of vodka for the table to start, and you all placed your drink orders to get those going too.

“It’s good to see you out, Buck,” Sharon said.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. It’s really nice to see the both of you,” he turned and grinned at you.

His adorable smile brought a flutter to your chest, and you were grateful that the waitress reemerged with the vodka shots before you had to reply.

After you all grabbed a shot glass, Steve raised his, and you all followed suit. “Alright, to a great night, with even better company,” he beamed.

Everyone clinked their glasses together in agreement and then to the wood of the table before throwing their shots back. The clear spirit warmed your chest as it went down, and you knew you were in for an interesting night.

“I love this bar, Steve. I’m so glad you picked it,” you finally chimed in.

“Oh it wasn’t me, it was Bucky. He sent me the password.”

Turning to the man beside you, “You’re into this kinda thing?” you asked in disbelief.

He gave off dive bar or maybe EDM club vibes, you’d never peg him for a jazzy gin joint kind of guy.

Bucky let out a laugh. “Well, you mentioned it was finishing up with renovations the last time I saw you. It sounded interesting, so I figured why not check it out with you guys.”

“Hmm,” you nodded with a grin. You were surprised he remembered.

The waitress returned with your drinks once more, and this time you put in the order for another round of shots. Bucky looked at you amusedly and you shrugged – you were in a beautiful bar with the best company, and you were gonna enjoy it.

Conversation flowed easily, just as the drinks; the liquor making quick work of easing your shyness. Not long after you were very glad you came out, because you were enjoying yourself immensely. Bucky’s company and attention made you feel comfortable and nowhere near how you felt when you third-wheeled.

Whenever Steve and Sharon would fall off into their own tangents, you had him to goof around with. You were happy and far from lonesome.

In no time at all, Steve pulled Sharon away to dance on the little dance floor in front of the band, leaving you alone with Bucky. You smiled to yourself when you saw Steve pull her into him, swinging her around to the beat. Seeing the way Steve cared for her, how well they meshed together, gave you some hope in the matter of love. Good guys did exist, and perhaps they were closer than you thought.

When you returned your attention to Bucky, he had his elbow on the table, propping up his chin as he gazed at you softly. Heat rose to your cheeks and you mirrored his form, propping up your own face so that you could look at him. This was the first moment you had alone with Bucky, and you were happy about that.

“Hi,” Bucky whispered shyly, his eyes holding yours.

You couldn’t fight the smile that graced your lips. “Hi, Buck.”

His smile broke free when he heard you utter his nickname; your voice softly enchanting him with just two words. “Thanks for coming out tonight, I really wanted you to,” he confessed.

“You did?” you asked, unconsciously letting out a dreamy sigh.

Bucky nodded his head before chuckling to himself. “Big time.” He looked at you with a dopey grin on his face, the alcohol or more likely his nerves brought a blush to his cheeks.

You giggled, bringing your hand up to cover your smile because he was just too damn cute and he was making you feel things; the kind of things that sent butterflies to your belly and a stirring warmth to your chest. He reached out for your hand upon its descent to the table, clasping his large one around yours. His relaxed grip felt casual – as if holding your hand was second nature and normal.

The hammering in your heart at his touch begged to differ; his hold was new and exciting.

The waitress returned with another round of drinks, and you settled on trying the mint julep this time. Bucky thanked the waitress but kept holding your hand as he reached for his old fashioned. You followed suit, clinking glasses before taking a sip, relishing the close proximity you shared with your crush.

“Oh my god, Bucky. This is so good! You have to try it!” you exclaimed enthusiastically, sliding him the drink.

“Really?” He picked it up and took a sip. His eyes widened, a satisfied smile crossing his features. “Wow, that is really good.”

“Right?” you happily sipped your drink. Your heart finally calmed to a normal rate because of how effortless it felt to be with him. No awkwardness, no self-consciousness, simply the wonderful present moment.

Steve and Sharon returned to the table excitedly, the song ending and another slowly beginning. You thought about releasing Bucky’s hand, but decided against it; he made no move and you were happy as you were. The couple slid into the booth, gleefully knocking back their new drinks, paying no mind to you and him.

Bucky squeezed your hand. “Hey, did you wanna dance?”

The new ballad was much slower and more romantic. Biting your lip, you nodded your head.

With his fingers intertwined with yours, you followed as he led you out of the booth and onto the dance floor.

You wound your arms around his neck as he splayed his hands across your back, holding you close. Swaying together, you were oblivious to anything but the music and him. His deep blue gaze held yours, and he hoped you couldn’t feel the way his heart was pounding. And when he brought his thumb up to gently stroke your cheekbone, you wished he couldn’t feel your heart speed up just the same.

“You’re really pretty, Buck,” you blurted out before your mind could process your words. Your eyes widened upon your realization and you quickly tucked your face under his neck to hide your embarrassment.

Bucky’s chest rumbled under your ear as he chuckled. “Baby, don’t go all shy on me now,” he gently coaxed you to look at him, nudging your chin with his fingers until your eyes were back on his.

Staring at him blankly, you waited for the mean joke that your honest admission would elicit. Instead you felt his warm lips press a kiss to your forehead. “You are the most beautiful girl, and you’re so damn adorable too. You never have to hide from me, okay?” Gracefully he spun you out, letting you twirl, before pulling you back up against his hard body.

“Okay,” you murmured, entranced by his eyes, heart racing as he pulled you even closer. His chest was pressing against yours, and if you weren’t drunk already you knew you would have been from his proximity alone.

This was what you wanted. The chance to see if the gorgeous guy you’d only met a handful of times was as nice as he seemed. Surprisingly, he was even kinder.

Being with him felt natural. The conversations, the playfulness, and the ease you felt in his presence. While you anticipated apprehension, instead all you felt was familiarity despite the limited time you’d known him. It didn’t make sense, but in your inebriated state you weren’t going to question it.

You were going to embrace it.

The song ended and he wordlessly led you back to the booth, releasing his hand, you slipped into your seat. But as soon as you were both situated back in place, you wrapped your arm around Bucky’s, clinging to him and his comforting warmth. Bucky grinned to himself before softly kissing your temple and settling his hand on your knee. Inhibitions were out the window and neither of you could keep your hands to yourself.

Steve and Sharon looked at you two amusedly, cheeky smiles spread across their features.

“Hey guys,” Sharon broke the silence. “Good dance?”

“Mhm,” you mumbled, taking a big sip of your drink. Bucky whispered in your ear asking if you wanted the luxardo cherry in his drink, and you giggled before nodding.

Steve nudged Sharon, wordlessly asking her not to press you two about your sudden affection. The couple watched on as Bucky playfully brought the cocktail skewer with the cherry toward your mouth before you captured it between your teeth.

“Thank ya, old sport,” you babbled before chewing.

Bucky let out a laugh, his eyes alight with amusement. “You’re most welcome, doll,” he said, booping your nose.

You both broke out into a fit of giggles, and the couple before you could not believe their eyes. Sharon was over the moon inside because she knew how you felt about Bucky, and Steve’s hunch about Bucky’s feelings towards you were confirmed quite apparently.

“Did you guys wanna get another round?” you eventually asked, remembering that you had company.

Steve turned to Sharon, and she shrugged. “I could go for another shot. What do you guys think?”

The guys nodded in confirmation, both deciding to head over and grab it from the bar themselves. Once you were left alone with Sharon, she got to interrogating.

“Girl, what is going on with you and Bucky?!” she grinned.

You hiccuped before beaming at her. “I don’t know, but I like it! He’s so nice, and he thinks I’m adorable and he’s so handsome, Sharon. I wanna take him home, keep him forever,” you blabbered, trying to maneuver your straw into your mouth with your tongue.

She pressed her lips together to stop the laughter that bubbled up inside. Her best friend had it bad for her man’s best friend, what a perfect situation.

“You should, you both look good together,” she smirked. She wanted you to experience the world with someone great and from what she knew, Bucky was definitely one of the good ones. “Do you want to stay over at their place tonight?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. “They’re like a five minute walk from here.”

Your eyes widened, that was such a good idea. “Oh my goodness, yes. Let’s ask them!”

The guys returned with the shots, and Sharon asked Steve and Bucky what they thought.

“You both are always welcome over,” Steve said kindly.

“Of course, always,” Bucky reassured with a smile. He’d happily sleep on the couch if it meant getting to spend a little more time with you.

“Then it’s settled.” You curled yourself up into his side, his arm wrapping around you. You were gonna seduce the hell out of Bucky Barnes.

┈┈┈┈┈・・

You didn’t register the way he maneuvered your body so that you were tucked in under the sheets or the shift of his weight on the other side of the bed.

It was only as the sun began to rise that you realized that you felt cozy – drowsily observing that you were much more snug and secure than normal. This wasn’t a cause for concern for your groggy brain, until you heard breathing and noticed that you weren’t alone.

What the hell.

Cautiously opening your eyes, you saw Bucky’s sleeping face. His breathing was evened out, chest rising and falling under you. Only then did you realize your head was resting on his shoulder, your hand splayed out across his broad chest. His arm was around your waist, and your thigh was drawn up and across his legs.

Did you hook up with him last night?! Oh god, you did, you totally did.

You were moments from freaking out when he shifted underneath you, squeezing your waist and placing his other hand on your bare thigh. You were trapped in the hold of the man you must have thrown yourself at last night, and that was bad.

“I can hear your racing thoughts, baby. Go back to sleep,” he muttered without opening his eyes.

Unable to contain your gasp, you watched as Bucky smiled to himself, still trying to sleep.

“Bucky,” you whispered.

He groaned under you, mumbling out a soft “no” as he refused to move or speak.

You bit your lip to stifle a smile. He was so cute and grumpy in the morning. Taking a deep breath, you nuzzled your face into his chest. Maybe you could postpone your freak out until after a couple more hours of sleep.

Bucky woke up a little after nine, your warm body still surrounding him. He smiled to himself, enjoying the feeling of having you so close. He vaguely remembered you waking up earlier, and he was glad that you didn’t leave.

Peeking down at you, he couldn’t stop himself from gently brushing his finger over your cheek, taking a moment to admire you. He could get used to waking up like this, your perfect soft curves against him – his ideal blanket.

Lightly he traced the outline of your lips with his finger, looking forward to tasting them soon.

Your eyes slowly fluttered open, and you saw Bucky watching you with an adorable smile.

Embarrassed, you quickly brought your hand up from his chest to cover your eyes. If you can’t see him, he can’t see you, right?

“Baby,” he let out a laugh, rubbing circles into your hip with his thumb. “I thought I told you last night that you never had to hide from me,” he whispered soothingly.

You wondered how he was so calm and cool, but then you remembered that he always was. His relaxed demeanor is one of the first things you noticed about him. Cautiously letting your hand fall back to his chest, you loosened up when you saw the softness and sincerity in his gaze.

“Sorry,” you mumbled nervously. “Um, did we?” you didn’t know how to ask, so you vaguely gestured between you two. You had hoped that you would remember your first time with Bucky, but unfortunately you didn’t even recall how you got in his bed or how you ended up in his shirt.

“No, we got back, and you asked me for something to change into while I got some water. I didn’t hear movement for a bit and I thought you’d fallen asleep so I set myself up on the couch. But then you came out all groggy, saying that you needed cuddles,” he smiled as he recollected the memory.

Even though he was completely drunk, he still remembered how precious you were. “You tried to get those cuddles on the couch until I decided to bring us back here.”

You weren’t ready for all the details of what you did, but you distinctly remembered a different plan that involved more seduction; it was hard to believe that you ended up opting for cuddling instead. Although, given how peaceful the sleep was, you were grateful to your drunk counterpart. She knew what was best at the time.

“Wait, so really nothing happened?” you asked disbelievingly, alcohol had a tendency to make you amorous and you needed to be sure.

He grinned as he shook his head again. “I think we might’ve wanted to earlier in the night, but we were too tired and drunk by the time we got back,” he answered honestly.

Heat rose to your cheeks, he knew you wanted to, and that was supposed to be your secret. You were about to shrivel into embarrassment again but then you realized he said he wanted to as well.

Finally, you gave yourself full permission to open up to the sweet man. You didn’t need alcohol to fuel your confidence, he liked you and you liked him – there was nothing to bottle up or overcomplicate.

“Do you think we kissed?” you bit your lip. The night was coming back in bits and pieces, but you couldn’t recall that.

Reaching out, he dusted his thumb over your lip, before stroking your jawline, subtly relaxing you. “I know I’d remember that, so no, not yet. Soon though,” he stated with certainty, as if it was an indisputable fact.

You smiled coyly. “So what happens next?”

“I’m thinking bagels with my girl, if she’s up for it,” he squeezed your hip.

His girl.

Bucky was so straightforward and direct, you didn’t have to guess where you stood with him, he made his intentions apparent. You adored that about him.

“I’m very up for it. I need a cure for his hangover. But… I also don’t want to leave this bed. You’re ridiculously comfortable.”

He beamed, “I can run down to get some, it’ll only take me ten minutes.”

“You could, but then I’d lose my new favorite pillow,” you teased, fingers dancing across his chest.

“Well then it’s a good thing your new pillow likes doing his job and will happily do it some more after he gets some food in your system.”

“Yeah?” The prospect of spending the morning cuddled up in bed with bagels and Bucky was too perfect.

“Yeah,” he sat up with you still in his grip, reaching out for his water. He let you sip some before drinking a bit himself. “Give me ten minutes, I’ll give you a change of clothes in case you wanna shower, then we’ll be right back here, okay?”

Nodding your head you leaned over and kissed his cheek. He made a dramatic show of getting out of bed, not wanting to leave, but knowing he’d have you back in his arms before he knew it.

Quickly he brushed his teeth, then let you know there was a spare toothbrush on the counter. He also set out a big henley with some boxers for you to change into if you wanted. In a flash he pressed a kiss to your forehead before lugging a sweatshirt over his shoulders and nearly running out the door.

It seemed he really was eager to get back to you.

You took some time to shower and clean up, needing a refresher after the night out. Bucky was back by the time you got out, and he slipped in right after you. You were out in the kitchen drinking coffee with Steve and Sharon, when he stepped out of his room, wet and shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his well-built muscles, you couldn’t believe he had all that going on.

“You’re coming back right?” he pouted adorably.

The two of you spent the morning in bed, munching bagels, recovering from your hangover, and getting to know one another. The night before expedited a few dating steps, but you liked learning more about Bucky while snuggled up in his arms. He told you all the little things about you that made him develop the biggest crush, and you told him your many reasons for crushing on him too.

Not long after, you shared your first kiss. His lips warm and soft as they moved against yours, slowly as if he was memorizing the way you felt. You didn’t know it then, but he was. His tongue glided into your mouth, his hands coming up to move your face, changing the angle of the kiss.

He wrapped his arms around you as he kissed your lips unhurriedly, discovering how right you felt in his grasp, and kissing you some more. Until the need for air became too great, until you both realized how intoxicating the connection between you felt.

As his beautiful blue eyes held yours, you could feel that this relationship wouldn’t be a difficult one. He was too considerate and honest for you to have to worry.

Your heart knew without a doubt that your future with Bucky would be joyful, silly, sweet, and easy.

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nichenarratives · 1 year

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Asymmetrical Atrocity

An Obscure Oneshot

Inspiration Art by Tracy J Butler

Mordecai Heller has done a lot of dastardly things in his line of work. He murdered the competition, tortured information from the mouths of gangsters and threw numerous bodies into both rivers surrounding Saint Louis, all at the behest of his savior turned employer. Atlas May is a discerning man of many accomplishments, one who knows when to conduct a business intervention to protect his investments, and when a massacre is the only way to send a message, which is what Mordecai manages alongside Viktor, his cohort.

The tom tuxedo appreciates swift, decisive action as much as the entrepreneur who owns the Lackadaisy Speakeasy. As such, he rarely finds grievance with expectation, carrying out every assignment with extreme prejudice and efficiency. Alongside Viktor's sheer strength and bulk, they form a formidable partnership that's seen the underground liquor spring swell in popularity, creating quite the business for the ever-ambitious Atlas May.

This is work Mordecai excels at, even prefers despite the moral ambiguity most would consider troubling. What he doesn't enjoy are the languid, supposedly quiet stretches of time between jobs, where he is forced to attend Mrs May's exhaustingly raucous parties. Sometimes, he can convince Atlas to let him work instead and buries his nose in the Little Daisy Cafe's books, changing expenses and stock to hide their underground extracurriculars.

But not tonight.

Atlas is out of town collecting his goddaughter - why anyone would want responsibility for a child that isn't even theirs is beyond Mordecai - and taken Viktor with him, meaning other than the band and Horatio, everyone to step foot inside the Lackadaisy that evening would be a potential threat to his wife's life. Atlas has specifically ordered his sharpshooter to stay close to her all evening, so there is no escaping it.

Tonight, he's Mitzi May's bodyguard.

While he never needs an excuse to dress properly, the tom had taken time to dress correctly for tonight; a black three piece suit over a crisp, white shirt, his trademark blood red tie pressed and carefully secured about his neck before it's tucked into his waistcoat and secured with a silver pin, a holster on each shoulder each containing loaded pistols (obscured under his jacket, for security), a knife in each garter beneath his slacks and of course, the piece de resistance - a pocket square matching his tie.

His wayward hair carefully smoothed down and pince-nez shined to perfection, he'd reported to Mrs May's rooms at precisely six, as requested. He at least feels at home dressed up - poor Viktor always looks ridiculously uncomfortable in a suit - even if he's dreading the actual party. He takes a moment to check his pocket square is properly placed before rapping his knuckles on her door.

"Come in, door's open."

The reply is immediate, but Mordecai hesitates on the threshold, hand still curled and raised uselessly in the air. He assumed she'd be ready on time. As such, the possibility of entering her room was not considered. He hangs in purgatory for a long moment, trapped between refusal and potential repercussions should anything happen to her in the next few seconds, then sighs and pushes the door open.

"Good evening, Mrs May," he greets upon entry, closing the door behind him before surveying the room. Not one to keep a clean house but hardly a slob either, Mitzi's room is clean but in general disarray; her bed isn't made, the closet hangs open, and her vanity table is cluttered with numerous vials, pots, lipsticks and more he doesn't care to identify. "It's time to welcome your esteemed guests into the Lackadaisy Speakeasy."

Mitzi sits at her vanity, leaning close to finish her makeup. She doesn't look over when Mordecai walks in, but an eye does track his reflection. "Of course," she says, pausing to dab her finest brush into the liquid eyeliner bottle. Satisfied it's sufficiently soaked, she raises it back to her face and returns her gaze to the ceiling. "I'm just finishing up, sweetie. Take a seat if you like."

Pale lips curl into a grimace. "No, thank you," he refuses, as politely as he can manage. Mordecai has no idea when she last changed the sheets - he prefers to change his weekly, when possible - nor if she's ever dusted. He doesn't intend to find out by coating his pristine suit in dust. His tail flicks slightly in agitation as he stays by the door. "I'll wait here."

"Suit yourself," Mitzi responds, accustomed to the odd tom after years of his service. She once tried to loosen the man up by asking about his family, but that only seemed to make him more distant. Since then, she's left Mordecai to his own devices, allowing Atlas to handle his peculiarities. Her own interactions with the tuxedo cat are more for entertainment than friendship now. "Are you going to dance tonight? I've invited plenty of young ladies who'd love to-"

"I'd rather not be in attendance," Mordecai answers flatly, his chin lifted very slightly as he grimaces. Mitzi suppresses a sigh as she sits back and studies her eyeliner. Makeup is such a chore sometimes, but a necessity when you have an image to keep. Satisfied, she screws the cap back on the bottle and wipes the brush off on cotton wool, an ear turned to her bodyguard as he continues. "However, Mr May has requested my attendance, therefore it is unavoidable."

The dolled-up feline hums in agreement; Mordecai isn't an enthralling party guest, unless you wish to listen to a man describe the main differences between monocotyledons and dicotyledons in excruciating detail, all in a flat monotone. If she had a choice, she'd have kept Viktor. At least could be loosened up with a drink or ten. "Well, I'm ready. Why don't we take our delightful conversation down to the-"

Glancing at Mordecai's reflection, she sees his eyes narrow, and Mitzi releases a tired huff. "What?" She asks as she turns around to face the pedantic accountant. An ear twitch and a deeper frown is the only response she gets, to which Mitzi glares right back. Atlas might enjoy his nonverbal communication, but she finds it irritating. "Come on, spit it out, Mordecai. The guests aren't getting any younger."

"Your eyeliner," the tom responds flatly. Mrs May turns back to the mirror and scrutinizes her reflection closely, checking for drips and smudges, or misplaced drops on her otherwise flawless skin and outfit. She's practically going insane trying to find the problem when Mordecai finally finished speaking. "Is asymmetrical."

She almost groans. Almost. Why does the man have to be so peculiar? "Is that all?" She asks, waving off his concern to instead fluff up her hair some more, running fingers through the freshly washed waves. They slide effortlessly from root to tip, as perfect as Mitzi planned. "No one will care if it's a little crooked once they taste the liquor, sweetie. My darling Atlas secured the best from Canada in our last shipment. They won't be sober long enough to notice."

"I've noticed," Mordecai asserts, finally stepping away from the door to approach his employer's wife. "Respectfully, should I spend the majority of your precious event distracted by symmetrical sacrilege, my efficacy will be compromised."

Mitzi turns in her seat and regards her employee tiredly, only to shrug a moment later. "Eyeliner is a fine art, sweetie. It could take hours to get it entirely even on both sides. We can't leave our guests waiting that long, can we?" Thinking she has him dead to rights, the feline woman opens both eyes and smirks at her husband's golden boy confidently. "Unless you can fix them in five minutes, it'll have to do."

If she's expecting some kind of emotional reaction, Mitzi is sorely mistaken. Mordecai glances at the discarded brush on the vanity, then the uneven lines framing her upper lids. He's fairly sure a child could do better, but for once, the tom decides to keep that thought to himself and instead looks around the room. Locating a small chaise, he pulls it over to the vanity - much to Mitzi's dismay. "What are you-"

Turning over the seat cushion before sitting down to avoid the dust, he then raises his hands, palms open expectantly. "Your brush and face paint," he requests with his expression set seriously, flexing his fingers for emphasis. "And erase your attempts of both eyes entirely. I prefer a blank canvas."

For the next seven minutes, Mordecai leans towards the other feline, coaching her which eye to close, where to look and sometimes, informing minor technique corrections he suggests for the future. Mitzi stays quiet and complies with his requests, mostly from pure curiosity if he'll be able to paint eyeliner as cleanly as he aims a pistol. She's not met a man who can frame an eye right yet, so she might even forgive his arrogance if he does a good enough job.

The few times she does look at Mordecai directly, his gaze is intense and focused, fine lips pressed into a finer line in the depths of focus. Mitzi isn't sure he's ever been so close before - even when she was having him tailored for fresh, tidy suits and had to measure his neck ad-hoc for the collar. It's honestly disconcerting and she quickly looks away.

"There," he finally states after what feels like a year. Entirely uninvited, Mordecai takes a gentle hold of her chin and turns her head from side to side to inspect his handiwork. Taken by surprise, Mitzi allows him to do so until he hums in approval and releases her, only to grimace at the powder residue now on his fingers. "I will never understand the need to slather your face in chemicals, but it is now symmetrical, at least. I'll wash my hands, then we can go."

Taking the brush and pot when they're offered, Mitzi turns to the mirror to inspect his work and is pleasantly surprised to find he's framed her eyes beautifully. He even added a small whisper of eyeliner off the lid and extended it slightly to her cheek, giving the impression of fuller lashes when her eyes are open. Mrs May blinks, tilting her head from side to side, marveling at how fine it is and indeed, how symmetrical the quiet sharpshooter has managed to make them.

"Let's get this over with," Mordecai mutters as he re-enters the room, adjusting the cufflinks beneath his suit jacket. His eyes land on Mitzi, once again staring in the mirror, and an irritated murr slips through pursed lips. "Mrs May, while I admire your devotion to setting an immaculate visage in your husband's absence, there is only so much superficial modification careful artistry can achieve. Let's go."

It was in that moment, as Mordecai stalked for the door to hold it open like the gentlemanly type he certainly had not just spoken like, Mitzi decided she'd convinced the girls that dancing with her reclusatory bodyguard was the pinnacle of high society.

Insert the ficus comic here…

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