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nosyp · 5 months ago

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Unwilling Devotion

Chapter 1 - Unwelcomed Guests

Warnings = Kidnapping, dark

Pairing = Dark! Avengers x reader

Summary = You work as a barista for a cafe and Natasha and her friends would always visit. That was until one day, everything changed.

Word count = 2.6k words

A/N = First time attempting a series... pls be nice! Feedback is appreciated!!!

Last edited = 23 Dec 24

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Chapter 1 - The Unwelcomed Guests

Ring!

The sound of the bell ringing alerted you and you immediately rose to attend to the new customer.

“Uhm-! Hi! Welcome, what can I do for you?” you stammered, greeting the customer.

She didn’t respond and only stared at you, looking kind of taken aback but quickly composed herself and went back to examining the menu.

You watched as she trailed her fingers through the menu looking for something of interest. The silence between you two was suffocating but she didn’t seem to mind. The awkwardness only stretched longer as you tried to keep a smile on your face while waiting for her. This happened often with new customers, and you never got used to it.

‘Please say something, I’m dying here,’ you think to yourself, trying to keep yourself calm. Then you finally spoke up, “Ermm, we have a wide variety of flavours for our scones, so far the chocolate is the favorite amongst customers.”

Her gaze shifted to you and she perked an eyebrow. “Oh really?” she asks. “Well I’ll take that then,”

You let out a sigh of relief, ringing up her order and handing it to her with a forced smile, masking the tension that had been building from the awkward silence. Your eyes followed her beautiful red hair as she left.

Now that you think of it, her outfit was kind of odd. She was wearing a tight black suit from her neck down. But you couldn’t lie, her figure was amazing so she’s probably just flaunting it.

From that day, she’s visited daily, never missing a day. Sometimes she’d bring some of her friends while other times, she'd visit all alone. It was quite usual for customers to keep coming back but… this time felt weird. Most of the times when they’d return, you’d be glad to serve them but you dreaded whenever she came. Overtime, you learnt from her friends that her name was something along the lines of ‘Natalie’ or ‘Natasha’ or something like that

What made it even more concerning was the fact that sometimes she and some of her friends were covered in blood when they came in. You hadn’t dared to question it since their aura was quite intimidating already. The atmosphere shifted as soon as their foot stepped past the threshold. It could go from a calm and cozy atmosphere to an intense and heavy atmosphere, even the other customers felt it. They’d often ask you what was up with the group but all you could do was shrug in response.

The next few days felt the same. She came in every day, never saying much, always leaving you with that strange feeling of being watched. Sometimes she came alone, or other times she’d bring some of her friends. But no matter who she was with, there was always an intensity that followed her wherever she went, even into the small, cozy cafe.

Then, one night, the cafe was nearly empty. The wind outside howled, and the street lights flickered, casting odd shadows against the windows. You were cleaning up, getting ready to close when you heard the bell ring again. But this time, it was different. It wasn’t the usual polite silence that followed her arrival. There was something heavier in the air.

You turned, and there she was again, but this time, she wasn’t alone. Standing next to her was a man in a dark suit, you recognized him from the many ads you saw. You swore his name was…. Something stark? Whatever. And beside him… you recognized the others from her usual group. Each one of them was standing too still, too perfectly, almost as if they were waiting for something.

The woman, Natasha, didn’t say anything at first, but her gaze locked onto you immediately, her eyes dark and unreadable. It felt like she was seeing right through you.

"Late night for you, huh?" she said casually, walking toward the counter. "We’re not here for scones tonight."

Your heart started racing, but you forced yourself to smile, trying to maintain some normalcy despite the heavy feeling that seemed to seep into the walls of the café. "We’re almost closing, actually–"

Before you could finish, the man in the suit stepped forward. You didn’t know his name, but his presence alone was scary, his eyes looked cold and… calculating. "Actually, I think you’ll want to stay open for a little longer."

Your hands trembled as you went to the counter. Their arrival felt weird, like it was a trap that could catch you at any moment.

"Hello, how can I help you today?" you finally managed to ask, your voice quieter than you intended.

Natasha smiled at you, her grin felt off though. "Actually," she said, voice lowering, "I think we can help you."

You felt your breath get stuck in your throat. Something wasn’t right. “E-excuse me? I’m not too sure what you mean by that…” you stammered, breath hitching.

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward, her red hair falling over her shoulder as she rested her elbows on the counter. "Oh, sweetheart," she purred, her tone dripping with fake concern, "don’t play dumb now. You’re smarter than that, aren’t you?"

The man behind her shifted, his hands crossed in front of his chest, eyes never leaving you. The others fanned out, moving with the kind of deliberate grace that sent chills down your spine. One of them was a tall blonde-haired woman with sharp features. She began looking through the shelves behind you.

“Holy, you’ve got a lot of nice stuff here,” she whispered underneath her breath.

‘Run, lock the doors, do anything, something.’ you screamed at yourself internally."I-I think you have the wrong person," you whispered, your voice cracking under the weight of the moment. You felt so small in their gazes.

Natasha tilted her head, her smile fading into something more sinister. "Wrong person?" she repeated, as if testing the words. Her eyes had a hint of something, something dangerous. "You’re kinda cute when you’re nervous, you know that?"

The tension was suffocating now. The tall man then got closer, his boots creating a heavy thud with every step. "We’re not here to hurt you," he said, though his tone was anything but comforting. "Not unless you give us a reason to."

Your legs felt like jelly as you tried to step back, your back bumping against the huge, muscular man behind you. “Hey darling,” he whispers, making you flinch away from him.

"I-I don’t understand. What do you want from me?" you ask.

Natasha straightened, her expression softening just slightly, though it felt more like a predator playing with its prey. "Relax," she said, her voice almost soothing now. "We’re just... interested in you. Let’s call it professional curiosity."

"Professional?" you repeated, barely able to keep the tremor out of your voice.

She grinned, then opened her mouth again. "Something like that. You’ve caught our attention, and trust me, that’s not very common. But you..." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. "You’re special."

You felt your heart skip a beat as her words processed in your head. "I—I’m just a girl working at a cafe," you said desperately. "There’s NOTHING special about me."

Natasha chuckled softly at your reaction. "Oh, honey," she said, her gaze locking onto yours, "you have no idea, do you?"

Before you could respond, the lights flickered, as if it was planned. Shadows were casted around the room and disappeared back into the darkness. You saw the group behind her exchange glances. You couldn’t tell what they were saying or signalling but you knew it was nothing good.

Natasha’s smile faded entirely, replaced by a look of cold determination. "Close up," she said. From her tone, you could tell it was a demand that you couldn’t deny.

"What?"

"You heard me," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Lock the doors. Turn off the lights, do whatever you need to do. And then, we’ll have a little chat."

Every piece of your being screamed at you to say no, to run, to do anything but comply, but as her gaze bore into you which made you realise something chilling. You simply didn’t have a choice, all you could do was comply at this point.

Your fingers shuffled through the keys as you hesitated, glancing at Natasha and her group every once in a while. Each second felt like a long hour, so many pairs of eyes were on you. "I... I don’t understand," you murmured, your voice almost not clear enough.

Natasha tilted her head, her patience visibly wearing thin. "Lock. The. Door," she repeated, her words clipped but weirdly calm.

With trembling hands, you reached for the door, turning the lock with a click. The sound felt like a huge bell, reverberating through the silence of the cafe.

"Good," Natasha said, her smile returning. "Now, why don’t we all take a seat?"

She gestured toward one of the corner booths, but the invitation felt more like a command. You glanced at the clock on the wall, hoping for some sort of reprieve, but the hands seemed frozen, just like you.

The man in the dark suit’s voice suddenly broke the silence. "We can do this the easy way," he said with a slight threat in his words. "Or the hard way. Your choice."

“Why should I listen to you?” you spat out.

His eyes widened at your response. “You know you shouldn’t speak to us that way, we’re just here to save you,” he says.

Save you? What does he mean by that?

“Calm down Tony, let them go at their own pace.” Natasha says.

Reluctantly, you moved toward the booth, your legs shaky as Natasha slid in across from you. The rest of the group remained standing, their eyes trained on you like hawks circling prey.

Natasha then folded her hands on the table, and her body leaned in. "So," she began, her tone almost conversational, "you’ve been working here for, what, six months? A year?"

"Eight months," you replied. Why were they asking about your job?

She nodded thoughtfully. "Eight months. That’s long enough to notice things. Patterns. People." Her eyes gleamed, and you had the unsettling feeling that this wasn’t small talk.

"I don’t-" you tried to say.

"Save it," she interrupted, before she started again. "We’re not here to play games. Surprisingly… you’re actually in a position to help us. And… whether you like it or not, you’ve already seen too much."

"Excuse me? Seen too much?" your voice echoed, your confusion evident. "I don’t know what you’re talking about!" your voice rising.

A dark-skinned man then stepped out of the shadows. "You’ve noticed us. Every time we’ve come in. You’ve seen us covered in blood. You’ve heard the whispers from the other customers. Don’t pretend you haven’t."

Your stomach churned as the memories flashed through your mind. Their glances, the blood stains on their clothes, the silenced voices that stopped as soon as you came close. You’d written it off as strange but took it as strictly out of your business. Well that was… until now.

"I didn’t say anything," you blurted out, panic rising in your chest. "I didn’t tell anyone!"

The cold, suffocating atmosphere of the café became unbearable. The group’s all had their gazes locked onto you, and gosh it was scary.

“I-I need to grab something from the back,” you stammered, your finger pointing towards the kitchen. Natasha’s eyes followed your finger, then went back to you.

“Go ahead,” she said with a smirk, leaning back in the booth. “But don’t keep us waiting too long, sweetheart.”

Her voice was full with mockery, but you forced a smile. You nodded as you backed away and disappeared through the swinging door into the back. Your heart pounded like a drum in your ears, drowning out everything else.

You couldn’t stay. You can’t let them do this. Could you?

All of a sudden, in a moment of desperation, you grabbed your coat and bag from the staff locker, stuffing your trembling hands into the pockets. Your fingers brushed against your phone. You hurriedly pulled it out to call for help.

But… when you turned it on, the signal was gone. Of course, after all these people are probably well trained criminals. They must’ve jammed the single somehow. A pit formed in your stomach, but you pushed forward. There had to be another way.

Your eyes darted to the back door. You still had the keys after all. If somehow you could just slip out quietly, maybe they wouldn’t even realize and you could just escape. BINGO! You’re a genius. Well you thought.

“Where do you think you’re going?” a low voice rumbled behind you, pausing all your thoughts of escaping.

You turned around to find one of Natasha’s friends, ‘Steve’ or something, you totally forgot his name but he was blonde, and tall. If you weren’t wrong you swore you saw two of them like that.

His huge frame was leaning in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed and a disgusting smirk plastered on his face. He was blocking your only exit back to the main room.

“J-just grabbing something,” you lied through your teeth, voice filled with fear.

He tilted his head, watching you in amusement. “Sure you are. And… you should know, she doesn’t like liars. And you shouldn’t test her.”

He took a step forward, and you took a step back. You didn’t even think about it. Your feet just moved, and you found yourself sprinting towards the back door as fast as you could.

The cold outside air hit your face as soon as you shoved the door open, the alley behind the cafe called out to you. For a split second, you felt a rush of relief, as if you actually could escape.

Then, you suddenly felt a grip on your arm. The grip got more intense as you tried to pry it off, slightly scraping him with your fingernails.

You screamed, and instinctively started squirming and kicking him. You tried to hit as hard as you could, but the grip was too strong. What is wrong with him? There’s no way he’s human.

Your mind raced as you saw the blondie had caught up to you in an instant. His strength was overwhelming as he forced you back into the café.

“You’re feisty,” he muttered, almost amused. “But we can’t have you running off.”

“Let me go!” you cried, struggling uselessly against his grip.

By the time he dragged you back through the café, Natasha and the others were waiting by the front door. She sighed dramatically when she saw you, shaking her head as if disappointed.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” her voice interrupting the silence. “I was really hoping you’d cooperate, darling. But I guess things don’t always go our way.”

“Please,” you begged as tears streamed down your face while the tall man pushed you to your knees. “I don’t know anything! Just let me go!”

Natasha crouched down, her hand reaching out to tilt your chin up so you were forced to meet her eyes. You could swear they were the eyes of the devil.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she said, her voice soft but menacing. “Not until we’re done with you.”

Then you blacked out. Consciousness leaving your being.

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