Sponges and bandaids

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Overview: Peter arrives back at the compound after a failed mission, and he's not in a good shape - mentally and physically.

Word count: 2,333

Warnings: fluff at the start, angst, blood, mention of death, yelling, breaking down.

*****

"I don't care what you say, I'm never letting you into this kitchen!" Bucky exclaimed with a laugh.

It was y/n and Bucky's night off, and they were having a great time. They had the entire compound to themselves. A well-deserved break from the intensity and turmoil of several missions a week. Of course, the only reason why they were able to have a night off was because their skill sets weren't needed for the mission, but neither of them were complaining.

Bucky was currently stood in the kitchen doorway, acting like a human barricade to stop y/n from getting in. His hands were resting on her shoulders, pushing her back whenever she got too close. He had the brightest smile on his face, it was sweet. Their laughs were echoing across the entire compound.

Y/n continued to giggle as she desperately tried to push past Bucky. Yes, she could've just teleported or mimicked any sort of power to get past him, but that'd take the fun out of everything. "Why? I just want to help..." She trailed off, trying to fake a pout, but she couldn't hold it for long. Not with Bucky grinning at her.

"Why?" The super soldier mocked, completely copying y/n's mannerisms. He laughed as she smacked him on the shoulder, pushing her away once again. "Hm, I wonder why I won't let you help. Maybe it's because I'm cooking dinner for you?" Bucky teased in a sarcastic tone, his cheeks hurting from the constant smile on his face. He was the most relaxed he'd been in a long time.

Y/n sighed, continuing to smile up at the super soldier. He was right. She shouldn't really be helping. It was supposed to be a surprise. "But I'm bored!" She complained, dragging out the last word for dramatic effect. "Let me help! I'm good at cooking!" Y/n begged. However, as soon as that last sentence came out of her mouth, she couldn't help but laugh. She wouldn't be able to cook if her life depended on it. They both knew that.

Bucky crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorway as the most genuine of laughs erupted from his chest. "If I let you cook, the entire compound would burn down." He teased, straightening up once he heard the timer on his phone begin to beep, signalling that something was ready to be taken out of the oven. "Now, shoo!"

"Shoo?" Y/n laughed, shocked that Bucky would say a word like that. They'd definitely been watching too many old sitcoms. "Shoo, shoo!" She mocked, putting on a posh accent. Her hands fanned about as if she was trying to 'shoo' a bunch of small children away. "Shoo! Mary Poppins needs to get back to the kitchen!"

Bucky rolled his eyes at y/n's mocking, watching as she disappeared back down the hallway. "Yeah, yeah..." He laughed, cheeks heating up slightly out of embarrassment. The mannerisms of old sitcoms had definitely stuck with him, but only y/n was to blame for that.

*****

It didn't take long for y/n to be excitedly sat down at the dining table, surprised at the effort that Bucky had put into such an impromptu meal.

He'd set the table with napkins, cutlery, a water jug, a bottle of wine, and a vase of flowers. The flowers had obviously been stolen from another spot in the compound, but Pepper could argue with him over that another day. For now, it was the sweetest, most gentlemanly thing somebody had ever done for y/n.

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