You closed your eyes, gripping your knife tight. You were in the middle of the woods, running from some guys who were after you because of your father/mother. You were good with a knife, so you constantly had one on you. But these guys had guns and you were outnumbered.
You heard them talking amongst themselves not too far away from you, so you started running again. You were hit in your side by a bullet, so you climbed behind a tree to check your wound. You were bleeding slow, but a lot.
You cursed under your breath and got back on your feet.
"Come out, come out wherever you are, Malyutka," one of them called.
"Malyutka. Russian. Little one," you muttered to yourself, "Man. Over 50. Shaky voice, shaky body. Slow reflexes. Disadvantage."
You were able to tear apart the man through just his voice. Your mother/father did teach you a few things. You heard rumbling in the bushes behind you and you clenched your knife to your chest.
A figure stepped next to you and you kicked them in the back of the kneecap, forcing them to kneel. You grabbed their hair and held your knife under the chin.
"Y/N Y/L/N?" The man asked.
"Unfortunately. And you are?" You replied.
"Clint Barton. I work for SHIELD, along with your mother/father," he said.
"Prove it," you demanded.
"You've been good with a knife since you were a kid. You always carry one on you. On the bottom of the hilt, it should say Bullseye," Clint spoke.
You let him go and put your hand back to your wound.
"When your dad/mom told me you were good with knives, i gave them that to give to you as a present," he informed you.
"Thanks, it's been a great help," you nodded.
"You're hit," he noticed, pulling your hand away from the wound.
"It didn't hit anything too severe, but it went deep and i'm losing a lot of blood," you informed him.
Clint nodded and then pulled out a bow and quiver full of arrows.
"Archer?" You asked.
"They call me Hawkeye," he confirmed.
"Nice," you nodded.
One of the guys came up behind you and slapped your ass.
"Pig," you said, stabbing him in the throat.
"You have no problem with this, do you?" Clint asked, smirking.
"Not my first time," you sighed.
You watched Clint take aim with five arrows in his bow, but he kept his eyes on yours.
"You have beautiful eyes," he complimented, releasing the arrows.
One returned to his hand.
"All done," he said, putting it away.
"Thanks," you said simply.
Clint lifted you up bridal style.
"Now let's get you help," he said.
"You don't have to carry me," you stated.
"Who doesn't want a beautiful girl in their arms?" He joked.
"You know, if i wasn't immune to those kind of plays, I'd probably swoon," you told him.
"Oh, you doubt that i could make you swoon?" He asked.
"Yeah, i do," you challenged.
Clint set you on your feet for a second before crashing his lips to yours and kissing you for a few seconds. He pulled away and smiled at you cockily before lifting you back up and continuing to walk.
"So?" He asked.
"Okay, i swooned," you admitted, "You win."
He smiled at you, carrying you into a jeep.
"I know. Hey, what do you know?" He grinned, "The hero does get the girl after all."
You laughed and shook your head.
You had definitely fallen for the archer.
