Avenger's One-shots and Preferences

Pipsqueak- Clint Barton

I got another request by xCosmic_Animationsx one-shot with Clint who meet after going after the same target. So the reader is a guy, and is on the short side.

This is my first time writing a male one-shot so bear with me. Also since the reader is short, I'd took some inspiration from Fullmetal Alchemist, for the way the reader reacts to being called short...similarly like Edward Elric.

Some swearing a maybe an innuendo.

"Just a little closer," you mutter to yourself as you observe your target step outside from a distance through a sniper, "Come on." You make ready to pull the trigger, but the target moves away back inside the warehouse he was holed up in, "ugh, dammit," you breathe out.
You been tracking this particular target for weeks; apparently this guy had pissed off the wrong people and you were sent to "take care of him." You didn't know what he did to make your employers mad and frankly you didn't really care as long as you got paid...or so you kept telling yourself everytime you took up one these jobs.

Speaking of getting paid, even though you were given an advance you were getting impatient and wanted the rest of your money...so it looked like you were gonna have to infiltrate the warehouse if you wanted to get this job done. Little did you know, there was a certain archer who had his eyes on the same target as well.

Meanwhile Clint Barton had been sent by S.H.I.E.L.D to track down this target and bring him back as he was a key witness who could help S.H.I.E.L.D. track down and recover some stolen tech. And being the keen marksman that he is, your presence was not over looked by Clint as he notices your sneaking towards the warehouse. The archer had known for sometime that the same people who stole the tech had placed a hit on the target; if something happens to said target any chances of locating the tech would be gone. Clint inches closer so as to observe your movements.

Meanwhile you were busy making your way inside using the vents, which were a little cramped in comparison. "Ugh, these vents are really small," you comment to yourself, "good thing I'm so tiny myself otherwise I wouldn't be able to squeeze through here....," you stopped the moment you said that, "What the hell?! What am I doing calling myself a pipsqueak for?!
You hated it when people called you short, so to have you comment on your height was a little less than tasteful.

As you crawl through the vents, following the sound of the target's voice in conversation with several other individuals, you bump into another person, rather hard head-to-head. "Ow," you groan, rubbing your head, "What the hell, who..." you take a good look at the guy in front of you; you also recognized the logo on his suit, "A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. What's the likes of you going after deadbeat douche like that?" "That is classified," Clint answers, "i.e it's none of your damn business. I am, however, obligated to inform you that we need this deadbeat douche alive, so it's best that you lay off on the sniper." "You ain't the boss of me," you snidely reply, "I need this guy dead if I'm gonna get my meager restitution so you better fuck off."
"Pfft," Clint scoffs, "Only orders I take are from the director himself, you really think I'm gonna back down cause some pipsqueak mercenary tells me to?"

"Just who are you callin a pipsqueak?" you snap, "Would a pipsqueak have a outstanding success rate of 95%?!" You then take notice of the way Clint was trying to contain his laughter, "What's so funny?" you ask through your teeth. "I'm sorry," you chuckles, "I know it's impressive, but I was just imagining you sneaking up on your targets and stabbing them right up front, like you're so small and shrimp like they don't even see it coming." "I'll show you who's shrimp like!" you exclaim, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a target to shoot in the head." With that you kick open the vent register and got out.