Avengers Imagines

Clint (Request) | Recovery (Father-daughter)

Requested by ginger300

A quick insert of a USB and information transfer began. But so did the opening of the door.

You flattened out your dress, hoping that you wouldn't be caught. "Come on..." you said, tapping your perfectly manicured nails on the hard wood table. You sighed. "Please. Come on."

You pulled the drive out the moment the door opened and stashed it in the corner of your bra where the strap met the tube.

"(Y/N)? What are you doing here?" Jeremy asked as he walked in. This was the Hydra boss currently and your job was to steal information.

You smiled, trying to appease him. "I was waiting for you," you said.

"For me?" he asked, smiling.

You nodded, fixing his collar. "Absolutely."

He smiled. "So you're..." He wrapped his arm around you before pulling out your USB. "Not trying to steal information from me?" In a quick squeeze of his fingers, he'd snapped everything you'd worked hard for. You were a little scared of what he might do and a little pissed from what he'd just done. He took a step back. "Sit," he said. "Sit!" he repeated, making you flinch slightly. You should've paid more attention in sparring lessons.

You sat down.

He cleared his throat before sitting on his desk after moving the keyboard. "Did you honestly think you could get past me with the fake pretense of loving me? You're not the first to try this, (Y/N). Consider your cover blown." And with that, his goons rushed in, taking you away and locking you in what he'd once called 'your bedroom' in his house.

*****

"She is where?!" Clint roared, throwing papers off some unsuspecting agent's desk. The agent grumbled as she picked up the mess he'd inflicted upon her.

He glared at Fury. "You said that she would be safe! You promised me that my daughter would be safe! If she dies, it's on you."

Fury sighed. "Barton, she can take care of herself."

"I know she can! But I'm not taking the risk! She's my daughter and I won't let her be harmed. How dare you!" He walked past Fury, hitting shoulders as he went to 'borrow a jet'.

*****

It had been a solid ten hours. You'd tired everything. You'd tried the windows (bullet proof glass), the door (reinforced steel), faking apologising (he wasn't as stupid as he seemed). You sighed, letting silence overtake you.

And that's when you heard it. Were those... gun shots?

You rushed to the door. "Let me out!" you shouted, pounding on it.

No reply.

You hit it again. "Hey! I know you're out there! Let me out! You bast - " The door opened and you fell into the arms of - oh crap. He looked furious.

Your father glared at you. "What do you think you're doing here?" he demanded. "I said none of this mafia business!"

You were still glad to see him, wrapping your arms around him and just hugging him. "Sorry, Dad," you said, sighing.

He sighed as well, rubbing your back. "Well. It's alright that you're ok now. And language, (Y/N)! I taught you better."

You rolled your eyes. "Steve taught me better."

He scoffed. "Come on. Let's go."

You nodded, glad to leave.