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writtenfangirl · 3 years
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Hot Chocolate Nights
An Avengers Fic
I don’t really want to say that it’s a Bucky fic since I see Y/N and him as more platonic than love interests but if you prefer it to be a romantic relationship, go ahead!
I wrote and finished this at 2 in the morning. I tried to make it more bearable but honestly, I think it’s beyond saving. It’s a waste of effort not to post it though so here.
Requests are open!
TW: The darkness/voices are euphemisms for depression, Y/N is an insomniac, instances where world destruction and violence are mentioned.
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When you’re an Avenger, there are certain responsibilities that the world expected from you, one of which was being a protector. The person the world could call on when they experience a disaster that they couldn’t face without their help. The Avengers are, after all, a group of remarkable people and this was the sole reason why they were created.
Watching Nat, Steve, Tony, Thor and the rest of the other Avengers in action – yes, Y/N found that it fit them, being called protectors. That was who they are at their very core. Steve would jump in front of a speeding bullet to protect a child; Nat would run in straight lines rather than zigzags if she was being shot at, if only to avoid civilian casualties; Tony would sooner protect Pepper by casting his suit towards her rather than himself if it meant that she would be safe. They were, at the very core, protectors.
Perhaps that’s why Y/N felt like she didn’t quite belong. She wasn’t a protector, she was the person the Avengers should be protecting the world from.
It was silly, really. Even now, after a full year of working with the Avengers, she still couldn’t fathom what possessed the team to try and turn her into a hero.
Wanda and Pietro? She could understand that. Sure, they’ve done some deplorable things but they did it in anger and though it doesn’t quite justify their actions, Y/N saw them easily fitting in with the team. At their very core, Wanda and Pietro were good.
Y/N couldn’t relate to that. She wasn’t good. She was anything but good.
When the Avengers had rescued her from Hydra, she was sure that they would kill her. She would have, if she was in their position. She was a freak, after all. A weirdo with abilities that shouldn’t exist on this Earth. A power that was no match for anyone, not even Wanda.
She was autopotent. She had complete and limitless control over herself, which brought her closer to the status of a god rather than a human being.
If she wanted, she could give herself the ability to shape shift or the ability to alter reality. One thought and she could have fire dancing at her fingertips or give herself the ability to plunge the world in darkness. Her limitless power could end worlds just as easily as she could create them. She had no limit, no end. She was Eternity and she was infinite.
She hated it and she hated Hydra for turning her into this.
She’s tried to purge herself of her powers several times in the past and some of the attempts had even caused her to accidentally end her own life but nothing she did worked. She’d wake up the next day just as powerful as ever. Her abilities clung to her like tar, unwilling to give up the powerful vessel they inhabited.
She thought she could live with the power and that, perhaps, it may even be a good thing. After all, power over oneself? Most people would kill for that. Except, she doubted they’d end a life if they found out that with her power came the horrible, evil voices that refused to leave her alone.
They whispered to her every day, flooding her mind with horrible images. Her friends dead at her feet, blood pooling from their eyes, the world laid to waste, fire and destruction enveloping the world, erasing the greenery and the life and plunging the world in darkness.
She could ignore it easily enough when she was surrounded by her friends. Sam and Bucky’s banter often made her laugh and her laughter deafened her ears to the whispering darkness; physical training with Steve, Nat and Clint often left her ears ringing and her mind too tired to take notice of the darkness; playing video games with Thor, Loki and Peter helped her to ignore the whispers; experimentation with Bruce and Tony and even movie marathons with Wanda and Vision made the darkness disappear. They couldn’t touch her when she was happy and with her friends, not when she was so full of life and light.
But when she was alone, when the sun has faded and her hunger was satiated, when she was isolated and by herself, that is when the whispers began to scream.
Tonight, they were loud, unbearably so. Image after image of destruction flooded her mind. Every blink she made was agony, images of her dead friends searing across her eyelids.
These are what will come to pass, the voices said. Let destruction rain on humanity and welcome death’s embrace.
She almost wanted to cry. She wishes she could tell her friends what was going on with her but she couldn’t burden them with these. They had enough on their plate as it is.
She sighed and sat at the edge of her bed. It was clear that sleep would not come to her tonight as it rarely came to her at all.
Let go of your rage and fury. Let destruction rain.
She ignored the voices and trudged out of her room. The voices followed her out like a dark, fetid breeze but she’s found that when she was in motion, it was easier to ignore the voices.
She was quiet, her slippers in her hand as she shuffled around the compound in her bare feet. When she was out of the sleeping quarters, she placed her fluffy slippers by her feet, wore them and walked. She passed the dining room, the living room, the sitting room and the elevators before she finally arrived in the dark, empty kitchen.
“Friday, do you think you can turn the lights on?” She said into the emptiness, her voice quiet, only a step above a whisper. She was afraid to shatter the stillness in the compound and though she knew she could make as much noise as she wanted without fear of waking any of her friends because of how far the kitchen was from the sleeping quarters, she was afraid that saying anything too loud would seem like an invitation to the darkness.
The lights turned on and Y/N stood there for a moment, her eyes adjusting to the light. When her eyes adjusted, Y/N shuffled towards the pantry. She pulled the door open and the light above her came to light, illuminating the space. The space was large, as most things were when Tony created them. There was enough food in here to last them at least a year, even if they ate three square meals a day at the compound. A variety of snacks and chips lined the wall as well as canned goods, loaves of bread and packs of powdered drinks. There was even a wall dedicated for coffee syrups for when the Avengers had gotten into a whole boba phase and Tony had attempted to create some for the team. It didn’t end very well.
She smiled against the memory and for a moment, the voices quieted themselves as warmth and joy flooded her. The feeling was fleeting and soon, the voices returned.
You are a god in a sea of mortals. End their lives claim your power.
She grabbed a random pack of instant noodles with one hand and on the other hand, she grabbed the open canister of cocoa powder.
“Did you find everything you needed, Ms. Y/L/N?” Friday asked her as she closed the pantry’s door behind her.
“I did, yes. Thank you, Friday,” Y/N said with a soft smile.
She opened one of the cupboards and with a wave of her hand, two pots floated from the cupboard and towards the waiting stove. Another wave of her hand and water flowed from the sink and towards the two waiting pots. A thought had the fire roiling beneath the pots.
Fire shall cleanse the world and purify it. Destruction is imminent.
She walked towards the refrigerator and took out the carton of milk, a small can of condensed milk and a single egg.
You are power, life and death itself. The Avengers are but a limitation you placed upon yourself. End them and let yourself reign.
She let the monotony of her actions drive her, center her. They helped to drown the voices out, and so she carefully studied each of her actions as she went through the motions, almost like she narrated them in her head.
When the water turned into a roiling boil, Y/N placed the uncooked noodles and its seasoning in one pot while she lowered the heat of the other and added tablespoon after tablespoon of the cocoa powder. She added the milk and a touch of the condensed milk and a sprinkle of cinnamon before she turned the heat off and poured the dark liquid on her favorite mug. She frowned when she realize that she’s made too much hot cocoa. She added the egg on the other pot and instead of transferring its cooked contents into a bowl, she simply took a pair of chopsticks from one of the drawers and waved her hand, the pot and mug following her as she walked towards the empty kitchen island.
The smell of the noodles wafted through her nose, causing her mouth to salivate. As she took the chopsticks and raised the noodles to her lips, she heard a set of shuffling footsteps and, strangely enough, Bucky walked in wearing a simple pair of boxer shorts and a black t-shirt. His short, fluffy, hair stuck up at odd angles, which made it obvious that he’s just rolled out of bed. His eyes were shut against the sudden bright light of the kitchen, his metal arm hiding his face in shadow as he waited for his eyes ro adjust. When it did, he regarded her curiously. “Y/N? What are you doing so early in the morning?”
She looked comical with noodles hanging from her mouth, her chopstick raised in midair. She slurped the noodles in the most unladylike way possible and covered her mouth with her hand before she answered Bucky, who was looked at her with an amused expression. “I’m eating.” The words came out garbled because of the food in her but Bucky understood her nonetheless.
“I can see that,” He said with a smile as he walked towards her. “Is that hot chocolate?” He pointed to her mug.
She swallowed her noodles as she nodded. “Yeah. I made extra if you want some.”
An image flashed across her mind, Bucky dead on the floor, his body a mangled mess of injuries. She pushed the image away.
He took a mug from one of the cupboard, filled it with the hot chocolate and raised it to his lips. A look of pleasant surprised graced his features as the flavors of the chocolate filled his mouth. “Wow. This is really good.”
Y/N gave him a smile, his compliment warming her body and silencing the whispers, if only a little. “Thanks. I’d give you the recipe but it’s a secret.”
“Well you are full of secrets,” Bucky laughed as she took the seat next to her on the kitchen island. “Eating out of the pot, I see.”
“I don’t like doing dishes,” she said with a wrinkle of her nose.
“I don’t either.”
Y/N slurped some of her noodles, this time in a smaller quantity to make it easier for her to chew and swallow it. “Do you want some?”
“Sure.”
Kill him and end his ceaseless suffering.
She handed the chopsticks towards Bucky’s awaiting hand and watched him slurp some of the noodles down.
“So what are you doing up this early?” Bucky asked her when he handed the pot back to her.
“I haven’t really gone to bed yet,” she shrugged. “Couldn’t really sleep. You?”
“Same.” Bucky said with a tight smile. “Nightmares.”
Y/N gave him an understanding smile. She may not understand what it’s like to have nightmares but she understood torment. She experienced it everyday. And though Bucky’s torment came in a different form, suffering was something they shared.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Y/N asked gently.
“Nothing really to talk about. It’s the same old nightmares about Hydra. How about you? Do you experience insomnia often?”
Y/N gave him a rueful smile. “Everyday.”
“You don’t really seem tired.”
She waved her fingers and sparkles of magic fell from her fingers. They disappeared before they reached the floor.
“Right. Superpowers,” Bucky chuckled.
Y/N took a big bite of the noodles and handed the pot back to Bucky who did the same.
“I’m guessing your nightmares are about Hydra?”
Bucky stared at her intently. For a moment, Y/N thought she may have intruded and offended him by the callousness of the question but he smiled at her and her worries eased.
“Yeah. They can’t seem to get out of my head,” he replied. “It’s mostly about my missions though. The people I’ve…” he trailed off and Y/N instantly understood the shame that lodged in his throat, stopping the words from coming out.
A killer. He doesn’t deserve to live.
She gave the supersoldier a reassuring smile. “I get insomnia because of the voices.”
Bucky’s attention snapped at her in surprise. “Voices?”
“I’m not crazy,” Y/N added hastily before Bucky could say anything. “No need to call Bruce on me. I just… the voices, they come with the territory. I think it’s because of Hydra. Some kind of psychological experiment they were trying on me. The scientists in charge of me died before they could finish the job and the Team rescued me soon after. The voices tell me to do these terrible, awful things and they show me horrible images. It’s why I can’t sleep at night. It’s exhausting to push them away.”
“You haven’t tried to use your powers to make them go away?”
“I have. Believe me, I have. They go away but they always managed to find their way back to me.”
Kill him and let blood rain. We are your only true friends.
“You should tell someone,” Bucky said softly. “Maybe Bruce can find a way to—“
“Bucky, if I can’t fix it, no one can.” She said the words gently, like she was the on reassuring him. “This is just my reality. There’s no changing it anymore. I just have to learn to live with it.”
“Do you spend all your nights like this? Drinking hot chocolate and eating ramen?”
“Sometimes, it’s ice cream,” Y/N said with a chuckle. “Or chips or leftover food we had for dinner. Sometimes I bake. The hot cocoa always stays though.”
“Is that why our kitchen always smells like chocolate chip cookies?”
Y/N nodded eagerly and Bucky let out a loud laugh.
“Steve and I always wonder why our kitchen smells so good in the morning,” Bucky smiled, or what looked like the ghost of it. Something about the way Bucky smiled often reminded Y/N of a promise. A slight lilt at edge of his lips, his eyes alighting just a tad, almost like he was teasing you, daring you to ask him to smile. “And you spent your time alone? What do you do all these hours?”
“Lots of things. Sometimes I read. I can go through an entire book in one sitting. Sometimes, after I eat, I train my magic or my fighting skills. Other times, I go out on a run.”
“Alone?”
“Alone. Always alone.”
Bucky stared at her, his face unreadable. He let the words settle on his skin, let it echo and rattle in his head.
Alone.
Alone.
Always alone.
Not truly alone.
A lonely existence. It was awful, Y/N had to admit. She lived in a building full of people and yet she was always lonely. Somehow, Y/N knew that this was a premise to the rest of her existence. She didn’t know why has these abilities or how she even got them. And some part of her knew that she was probably immortal and that she would live a lonely, wretched life until the Earth turned into dust, most likely by her hand, by her limitless power.
“Well with the exception of Friday,” Y/N joked.
There was a hum as Friday powered up at the sound of her name. “Happy to be of service, Ms. Y/L/N.”
“But this night—“ she gestured with her hands “— it’s my first night with someone else. I have to be admit, it’s nice. I like your company, Barnes.”
Bucky matched her smile and she found the simple gesture warming her insides faster than the hot cocoa. “I like your company too.”
Conversation ebbed and flowed easily between them, the voices fading into a dull sound and the edges of her mind. Soon the ramen was finished and their cups drained to the bottom but that didn’t stop Y/N and Bucky. A bond had formed between them, a silent understanding. Though their circumstances were different, there was always something about torment and shared trauma that bound people together.
They talked about the years they spent in Hydra, memories that they remembered from their previous lives and who they were before they were taken. They talked about the team, the little habits that the Avengers had that annoyed them, the things they loved about them. They talked about anything and everything and they only stopped when the sun’s golden fingers reached across the sky, alighting the once dark canvas into shades of pink and purple.
The next night was the same. Voices, her vision edged by darkness.
Slaughter them. Kill them. Reclaim your right as ruler of the world.
She waited until she was sure that the whole house was asleep before grabbing her slippers and padding out of her room and straight into the kitchen. After taking the opened box of hot cocoa and she went through the motions of creating her signature hot chocolate and this time made sure to create enough for four people. Last night, Bucky had mentioned that he’d like to have some of it again and perhaps even share a cup of it with Steve and Sam.
Tonight, she decided that she would bake.
They all deserve to die. They are ants, mere insects in your presence. End their petty existence and take your place.
With a wave of her hand, bowls, measuring spoons and cups and ingredients floated all around her before finding their way on top of the kitchen counter. Another wave had a cookbook flying towards her, opening at the page for creating brownies. It levitated a few inches off the ground, as though propped up by invisible hands.
An image flash in her head. Her friends laying under the rubble of the compound, their eyes open but glassy, crushed under the weight of the cement. She pushed the thought away.
She was just about to crack and egg over a bowl when she heard the shuffling of feet. Several feet actually. Her attention turned towards the door where she found the Avengers piling into the kitchen, all dressed in pajamas, with Bucky leading the group.
“Guys,” Y/N said in disbelief. “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you all be in bed?”
They mean to disrespect you. They deserve to perish.
“We could ask you the same thing,” Nat said with a smirk.
“Barnes here said you made a mean hot chocolate and I for one would love to try it,” Tony said as he circled around the kitchen. He reached for her still steaming mug. “This it?” Before she could even reply, he’d raised it to his lips.
Y/N gaze snapped to Bucky and he gave her a sheepish smile.
End them. Kill them. They mean to offend you.
“That is good,” Tony said after a loud sip. “Oh that is really good. You guys have got to try this.”
Tony passed the mug to Nat who took a small sip. She closed her eyes, a happy and content look on her face. “That is amazing.”
“Thank you,” Y/N said, almost in astonishment. She couldn’t even bring herself to be upset that Tony had stolen her chocolate. “I didn’t make enough for all of us though. You’ll have to wait if you all want some.”
“That’s alright,” Steve said, taking a seat on one of the vacant chairs on the island. The other Avengers followed suit, taking their own seats, filling up the counter like customers in a diner. “We can wait. We’ll even help you.”
They deserve nothing but death.
“It’s my secret recipe,” she said sheepishly, unable to contain her blossoming smile. “You all sit there. I’ll make it.” And so she got more cartons of milk and more condensed milk and more cinnamon powder and even more cocoa powder. She even got some cacao nibs from the pantry, to add a little something extra to the hot chocolate.
“Are you baking something?” Wanda asked from where she sat, peering at the still floating pages of the open cookbooks.
“Brownies,” she answered as she whisked the chocolate.
“What are brownies?” Thor asked them curiously.
“You’ve never had brownies, Mr. Thor?” Peter asked in surprise as he entered the kitchen.
You are darkness, eternal. You are the life of the universe. They are nothing.
“Kid,” Tony said with a sigh as he ran a disappointed hand over his face. “You have school tomorrow. You should be in bed. What are you doing here?”
“Mr. Bucky Barnes said that there was a team meeting…” Peter’s sentence trailed off, suddenly unsure.
“At 2 in the morning?” Sam asked with raised eyebrows. “C’mon, kid. This is an adults only meeting. Come back when you can grow a beard.”
“Stop bullying him,” Y/N laughed from where she stood, stirring the chocolate to make sure that the nibs were broken down. “He can stay.”
“T-thank you, Ms. Y/L/N,” Peter stuttered taking the last vacant seat.
“Do you need help with the brownies?” Wanda asked. “We’d love to help.”
Y/N smiled. “Sure. You guys can get it started.”
“What are brownies?” Thor repeated.
“They are baked goods, I believe. Created out of chocolate and flour and eggs. The internet often gets into debates about which pieces are the best.” Vision replied.
Easy conversation soon echoed around the room, followed by the sound of clinking glass bowls and spatulas and spoons scraping and mixing batters. It replaced the quiet that Y/N has come to associate with the kitchen. She smiled as she heard the team chatting amongst themselves and she could feel her heart swell with love.
She saw Bucky approach her and he helped her fill the mugs she had set in place.
“You didn’t have to do this for me, you know,” Y/N said with a smile.
“I wanted to,” Bucky smiled. There it was again, that promising smile. “You need to know that you are not alone. Not when you’re with us.”
Y/N stared at him. She noted the openness in his face, at his languid posture and his promise of a smile. He continued to fill up the mugs, oblivious to her stare.
Y/N held his metal hand stopping him from scooping the last bits of chocolate. He looked at her in surprise and she said in a quiet voice so that the others couldn’t hear, “Thank you.”
Y/N watched as Bucky’s smile widened from a promise to a promise accomplished, a resolute feeling that could only be appreciated in the certainty of fulfillment.
Y/N knew she would tuck this memory away forever, frame it in the deep recess of her mind. This was one of the few times she felt truly loved, surrounded by her friends, her family. Never has she felt such a strong feeling of affection and contentment, never has the voices been silenced and stayed silent.
She knew they would come back, as was inevitable. When the plates where washed and the laughter has ceased and her friends had returned to their respective rooms, she knew the voices would return. But worrying about the future only served to take away the peace of now.
So, she shook the thoughts away from her head and served the hot chocolate and, with some help from her friends, laughed the night away.
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