Avengers Age Regression Oneshots

🍼💙🇺🇸Little Chef💭🩶🦾

Bucky Barnes wasn't a bad cook—he just wasn't used to cooking while also keeping an eye on a regressed Steve Rogers. Steve, in his little headspace, was full of curiosity and boundless energy. So, when Bucky had decided to make them lunch, he hadn't anticipated just how involved Little Steve would want to be.

"Bucky, can I help?" Steve asked, his voice small and sweet as he tugged on Bucky's shirt. He stood on his tiptoes, peeking over the countertop with wide eyes.

Bucky looked down at him, seeing that familiar sparkle of excitement. "Sure thing, Stevie," he said, knowing Steve loved to be involved when he was little. "But we gotta follow some rules, okay?"

Steve nodded eagerly, already bouncing on his feet. "'Kay! What're the rules, Buck?"

"Alright, first rule: No touching the stove or anything sharp, okay? I'll handle the hot stuff. You can help with the fun parts."

"'Kay! No stove, no sharpie things," Steve repeated, smiling brightly as he followed Bucky's instructions.

Bucky gave him a soft smile and ruffled his hair. "That's my good boy. Now, how about we make some sandwiches, huh? I'm thinking turkey and cheese."

Steve's eyes lit up. "With pickles?" he asked, already scurrying over to the fridge.

"Yep, with pickles," Bucky confirmed, chuckling as Steve opened the fridge and grabbed the jar of pickles. His little hands struggled to hold the jar, so Bucky quickly swooped in to help. "Here, let me get that."

Once everything was laid out on the counter—bread, turkey, cheese, pickles—Bucky set Steve up with a task that was safe enough for him. "Okay, Stevie, you can help put the cheese on the bread, alright?"

Steve nodded enthusiastically and grabbed a slice of cheese. His little fingers worked with concentration, carefully laying the cheese on the bread as if it were the most important job in the world.

Bucky smiled as he worked beside him, slicing up the turkey. He glanced over at Steve every now and then, making sure the little guy wasn't getting too distracted. "How's it going over there, chef?"

"I did it!" Steve announced proudly, holding up his perfectly cheesed slice of bread.

"That's great, Stevie! You're doing a good job," Bucky praised, giving him a thumbs up.

Steve beamed, clearly pleased with himself. "What next?"

"Next, we put the turkey on. Want to help with that too?" Bucky asked, handing him a couple of slices.

Steve nodded eagerly, his little hands reaching out to grab the turkey. He placed it on top of the cheese, giggling when it didn't line up perfectly. "It's a turkey hat!"

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "A turkey hat, huh? Well, it looks good to me."

They continued working together, Steve placing the top slices of bread on the sandwiches while Bucky cut them into neat halves. Everything was going smoothly, and Bucky was starting to think this cooking-with-a-regressed-Steve thing wasn't so hard after all.

But then, Steve's curiosity kicked in.

"Buck, can I do the pickles?" Steve asked, eyeing the jar with an excited glint.

Bucky hesitated, glancing at the jar. "Tell you what, how about I open it for you, and you can take the pickles out and put them on the plate, okay?"

Steve pouted a little, wanting to do more, but he nodded. "Okay..."

Bucky opened the jar and handed it to Steve, watching as his little one carefully reached in and grabbed a pickle. Steve was surprisingly precise for someone regressed, placing each pickle on the plate with care.

But then came the moment of truth.

Steve picked up a pickle, his eyes darting between it and his mouth. Before Bucky could stop him, Steve took a big bite out of the pickle, juice dripping down his chin.

"Stevie!" Bucky laughed, shaking his head. "You're supposed to put those on the plate, not eat them all!"

Steve giggled, chewing happily on the pickle. "But it's yummy!"

Bucky sighed dramatically, but he couldn't help smiling. "Alright, alright. Just don't eat them all, okay? We need some for the sandwiches."

Steve nodded, though his mischievous grin suggested he might sneak another one when Bucky wasn't looking.

Once they'd finished assembling the sandwiches (with only a few missing pickles), Bucky grabbed the plates and carried them to the table. He helped Steve climb up into his seat, ruffling his hair once more as he set the food in front of him.

"There we go, chef. Our masterpiece," Bucky said, sitting down next to him.

Steve grinned proudly, taking a big bite of his sandwich. "We did good, Buck!"

"We sure did, kiddo," Bucky agreed, watching as Steve happily munched away. "You're a pretty good helper, you know that?"

Steve beamed at the compliment, swinging his legs under the table. "'M the best chef ever!"

Bucky couldn't help but laugh. "That you are, Stevie. That you are."

As they finished their lunch, Bucky realized that cooking with Steve, even while he was regressed, wasn't just about making food—it was about spending time together, creating little moments of joy and connection that would stick with them both.

And maybe, just maybe, he'd let Steve help in the kitchen more often.