Captain America and Bucky Barnes Imagines

116. STEVE: I Did Something Bad...

A/N: Hey guys! Sorry about the wait on this one. I went to Seattle to see Taylor Swift and so this imagine is powered by song 3 on the new album, I Did Something Bad, on repeat. It really is fitting and I love the song so much so I'll add it here in case anyone wants to listen while they read! 

POV CHANGES ARE IN THE FIRST PARTS OF EVERY SCENE CHANGE AFTER THE THREE DOTS... 

This was a request from Livi_Wolf, and I loved it SO much so I went sorta crazy with it... almost 7,000 words, but it was so much fun to write! Thank you to her and everyone else who has been so patient about updates and seeing their requests come to life. They're all coming, I promise :) These each take me about five hours or more to write/edit, and I'm working and going to school full time so I appreciate patience in getting them published! I want to make sure I'm writing quality stuff for you all because I love ya so much! 

Thanks again for requesting this one, Livi_Wolf! Hope you like it, guys.

Winnie

Words: 6.5K

Have you ever completely lost yourself?

Ever felt like a ghost in a stranger's body?

Have you ever been completely betrayed by every single person you've ever known?

...Yeah, sure, me neither.

This is Agent Y/N, also known as Mirage. And this is my final HYDRA mission report.

DATE: July 17, 2020

TIME: 23:45

LOCATION: Vlorë, Albania

CASE NUMBER: 67892

AGENT: Y/L/N <MIRAGE>

"Target is standing near stairwell; dressed in all black."

From behind the mask of the colored contact lenses my eyes scan towards the staircase. Leaning slightly against the wall there rests a man with a full glass of whiskey. He's not as tall as the other men he speaks with, but he still manages to look downwards at them from the tip of his upturned nose.

"Got him," I mutter into the surface of my martini. While everyone else at the party drinks freely from the open tab bar, he's clearly sober. He's the type to always be in control. He doesn't want to lose himself to any sort of vice.

Yet here I am, trying to do just that.

I'm going to play him like a violin and make it look so easy. And by the time the sun rises over this little country tomorrow he'll be lying dead in his hotel bathtub and I'll be halfway to Spain for my next mission.

Here goes nothing.

The target's stormy grey eyes dart amongst the crowd. I shift a bit out of his view. I swallow a mouthful of alcohol, tasting the dry vodka burn the back of my throat. I fall slightly into the shadows where none of the exquisitely dressed partygoers can spot me. Then, eyes locked onto the target, I begin to rifle through the files my brain has memorized: the ones that told me everything I needed to know about this man in order to get what I need. This brain and body have beaten hard enough to remember everything it ever sees: which, after the life I've had, is far more of a curse than a blessing.