Summary: The landlady increased the cost of your monthly rent. So.. you move in with your neighbour next door so you still get a roof over both your heads. This drabble series is going to be in ‘episodes’ detailing little incidences between the two of you.
So the cute girl from next door moved in with him just the other day. The cute girl with a buckload of stuff that had invaded the cabinet above his sink – or rather, their sink.
Bucky thought he had cleared up enough space for your stuff. He was a low-maintenance kind of guy, simple and didn’t need much, with the exception that he didn’t use those 2-in-1 shampoos like Steve. His locks were important to him, so the least he could afford himself was a fruity shampoo and some really nourishing leave-in conditioner.
Still, he respected the way women of the past and the present made an effort to look their best. He remembered his mother looking radiant, with a tinge of pink on her cheeks and lips in the morning, even if she had a rough day before. He never knew what went into it, until you sprawled your toiletries and cosmetics over every surface you could find in the bathroom.
The cabinet above the sink had contained nothing more than some medication and extra toothpaste. Now, it bore the burden of your make-up remover, a large packet of cotton swabs and pads, several bottles of lotion and soap, in addition to your make-up bag.
A few days after you had moved in, he brushed his teeth with some of your foundation, thinking it was his Colgate. Those squeeze tubes looked the same when his eyes were still half-shut.
As he coughed the make-up out of his mouth, he also knocked over a few of your skin care products, earning a chip on the cap of one of your moisturizers.
He tried to settle your items back along the bathroom sink where they had perched precariously before, only for the bottle of your face wash to slide down into the sink, knocking one of your earrings down with it. Bucky watched in horror as it slid down the drain.
The commotion woke you up.
“What in the world..”
“I think one of your earrings fell down the pipe. And this thing cracked. Sorry,” he said sheepishly while gesturing to your bottle of moisturizer. “I squeezed some of your make-up on my toothbrush thinking it was toothpaste and I was tryna get out of my mouth and your stuff fell over.”
You knew things didn’t just fell over. “You mean you knocked it over.”
“Yeah, sorry. But you have way too much stuff! Can’t you put it in your room, or keep ‘em in the cabinet.. or something? It’s so messy here!”
You rolled your eyes. This wasn’t how you wanted to start your busy Tuesday. “Ugh, fine. Just watch what you’re doing next time please, this stuff isn’t cheap,” you grumbled, referring to your now half-empty tube of foundation.
After passive-aggressively grabbing all your items from the top of the sink and the cabinet and piling them in your small palm, you trod out of the bathroom, leaving a sour taste in both your mouths from your first tiff as roomies.
You didn’t see much of him for the rest of day when you left for school, and he had been out bright and early doing his morning workout around the block shortly after that little spat. It took no time at all before you felt the guilt seeping in. He didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of your frustration, even if you were pissed. Most people started off interactions with ‘good morning’, as how they should be anyways.
You had to apologise.
But he beat you to it.
You opened the door to your (new) apartment to find him sitting silently on the couch. He looked tense, deep in thought, but he turned around immediately when he heard the sound of your books hit the table at the entranceway.
“Hey,” he started, and you notice the black-and-white striped paper bag between his fingers. “I’m sorry about this morning, hope this makes up for it. Didn’t realize how expensive this stuff was.”
He must have gone to the mall after you left because in that familiar little paper bag was a brand new tube of your go-to foundation. Same brand. Same shade. Your eyes widen slightly – who would have thought there existed a man who was observant and sensitive enough to get this right?
You couldn’t help but stumble on your words, “t-t-thank you, you uh really didn’t need to.”
You took a deep breath in. “Look, it’s not your fault exactly. I know I can be quite the slob. It wasn’t really nice of me to put my stuff everywhere in your bathroom like that. I’m sorry too.”
“Our bathroom,” he corrected.
You grinned, happy that he was still cordial with you.
“Now that that’s out of the way, can we order takeout?” you ask, hoping to continue making amends. “My treat this time.”
“Yes, I’m famished,” he replied. “But.. one more thing: do you really need that much stuff, just for your face?” You looked at him, perplexed and slightly offended. But you remind yourself – he’s a boy, he doesn’t know better.
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” you sassed. Taking a few steps towards him, you stretched out your neck and scrutinized the wrinkles around his eyes and the dry patches of skin on his cheekbone. “And I think you do too.”
You reached into your purse for the small tube of moisturizer and stuffed it in his palm. “Try this. You’ll thank me later, ya big raisin.”
sorry this took so long, but it’s longer than expected so i hope that makes up for it. (i have mad respect for writers like @bovaria who churn out fics like everyday, they’re frickin amazing!!)
as always thanks for reading :~) school’s been busy for these first couple of weeks, but it makes my day when i see messages from you guys asking to be tagged in the fics. love you guys ❤️❤️❤️❤️
Stiles Stilinski was an amazing boyfriend; selfless, protective, romantic and loving. He knew the weight of the supernatural drama, how it had a way of making everything else seem fabricated and trivial. He begged Scott to refrain from calling him for at least 4 hours, explaining to the true alpha that he just needed time to spend with his girlfriend. He devised a plan; Lydia was to distract you until he’d put everything into motion. He needed this to be perfect. He was well aware of how you felt about the scorching weather outside, summer was in full swing and a majority of the day it was a blazing 102 degrees. He spent an hour filling water balloons and tying them, he had raw pink lines on his hands to prove it. He’d just filled two buckets with an equal amount of water balloons when Lydia’s navy blue Toyota Yaris pulled into his drive way.