Marvel Imagines

[Pt. 1] Wrong Place, Right Time (Clint Barton X Reader)

It wasn't like you had plans to get caught up in whatever the hell this was.

You had just been walking home from work, head down, eyes on your feet shuffling through the snow that was relentlessly falling from the cloudy New York December sky.

But that had all changed the second someone had collided with your right side, sending your unexpected figure careening towards a nearby alleyway.

At first, you instinctively turn back toward where your attacker had hit you, ready to tell them off, but when they're nowhere to be found you simply had sat there, catching your breath, propped up against the brick wall you'd nearly smacked your head off of.

But, it would have seemed that merely by being in the wrong place at the wrong time had its consequences.

People dressed all in identical looking tracksuits had rushed into the alleyway, seeming confused and angry.

And at first, the sight didn't bother you - it's New York, people always seem to be pissed about something - but then you realized what each of them carried in their hands.

Hand guns.

And, to make matters worse, as your now increasingly less dazed figure scanned the few newcomers, they're also equipped with masks - keeping their faces one-hundred percent unrecognizable.

"What are you looking at?" The man at the head of the tracksuit group had yelled at you, your legs scrambling to get back beneath you.

"Nothing!" You had replied far too casually, instinctively backing yourself out of the alleyway and back onto the sidewalk you'd been pushed from moments ago. "Nothing at all! You all have a great night!"

But, before you could turn to leave, yet another newcomer had joined the group, his face unmasked and clearly evident to you.

"Sorry I'm late, Boss. Got caught under the rubble..." He had trailed off, noticing your shocked figure standing at the exit of the alleyway.

"Well now you've done it, Henry," Their leader groaned, grabbing the newcomer and forcing his mask down over his face. "Bring her in. She's seen us now."

"Oh, I think I'm good. I'll keep your little secret," You had tried to bargain with the tracksuit clad group, only to fail miserably, which is why you're currently sprinting down the alleyway, in the complete opposite direction in which you wanted to go in.

"Don't shoot! Keep her alive!"

How thoughtful of you.

Huffing, you vault over a nearby toppled garbage bin, boots slipping slightly as you come back down against the icy pavement, your cheeks burning as the snow hits them.

"I don't want any trouble! Really!" You holler over your shoulder back towards your pursuers.

They give no reply, and instead, the sound of something metal being picked up and thrown your way meets your ears.

And it's too late for you to avoid the impact.

The lid of the broken garbage bin hits you in the back, sending you flying face-first into the cold, damp pavement, your hands barely breaking your fall.

"Get up. You're coming with us."

"C'mon. Be smart about this, girl."

Through your blurred vision and muddled thoughts, something catches your eye past the swarm of boots surrounding you.

It almost looks like the hilt of a sword of some kind, the blade appearing absent, though the slight glimmer of silver is still there.

Maybe the blade snapped off and left a small piece inside?