Un Mal Pour un Bien
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader
Summary: Out of Bad Comes Good. As a hitman, you have seen and committed various crimes. Assignments have always been easy for you, but when you get to know one of your targets, things suddenly become more difficult. What happens when that target finds out your true identity?
Warnings: probably cursing idk. death, trauma, mentions of rape/cheating/drugs.
Word Count: 2k+
A/N: If this gets good feedback, I’ll continue it. Let me know what you think!
You slow your breathing in attempts to focus on the task at hand. The sniper in your grip feels heavy as you peer through its scope. Your finger finds its place over the trigger for the hundredth time this morning and you can hear your pulse. The man turns, his face perfectly aligning with the center of your scope. With a simple flick of your finger, you could end this.
But for some reason, you cant.
You remove your finger from the trigger and click the safety on but continue to watch him through the scope. He casually strides down the vacant street. He was gorgeous to say the least; long hair tucked into a bun, chiseled jaw line, broad muscular shoulders. Appearance never stopped you before, though.
So why can’t you end his life?
You cringe as you watch him stop to pet a tabby cat who seems more than pleased to have such attention. The animal rubs against his legs and he grins, stroking his neck in adoration. Why would anyone want this man dead? He seems perfectly kind. He rounds the corner and you lose sight of his figure.
You unload the gun in your hands before placing it at your feet. The wind picks up causing you to shrink into your hoodie. You eyeball the nearly empty streets of New York City and can’t help but feel slightly serene. No wonder that man was out. This is the only time in which the ‘city that never sleeps’ is actually submerged in slumber.
A slight buzzing in your pocket causes you to jump. You roll your eyes at your reaction before answering the call.
“Is it done?” the gravelly voice at the other end causes your skin to fill with goose bumps. “He wasn’t there.” You lie through your teeth. “What do you mean he wasn’t there?” The voice all but shouts into the phone. You pull it from your face, glaring at it as if the man on the other end could see you.
“I mean you either gave me incorrect information, or this man decided to switch up his morning routine. I’ll find another date in the next week when I’m free.” You mutter out, already fed up with this conversation.
“No, you’ll do it tomorrow morning, same time, same place.” He hisses at you and it takes everything in you not to lash out.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” you seethe, “I have a schedule. I have other clients. You’re not the only one paying me, and quite frankly, you’re not my highest bidder so therefore, I work on my own time. You want the job done on your own schedule? Do it yourself. Otherwise, I’ll let you know when I have time.” And with that you hung up the phone and tucked it into your backpack.
The events of your morning absolutely exhausted you. You slowly meander back to your small apartment. It wasn’t lavish but it was nice to say the least. It was one bedroom, one bathroom, with a living space, a dining space, and a kitchen. It was the one thing you were absolutely proud of.
You shuffle to your walk in closet and enter the combination to the large safe hidden behind an array of clothes. You place your gun on its stand, and remove your knife belt, just shoving it in its designated compartment. You were covered in different weapons and it felt absolutely incredible to remove all the extra weight.
After slipping into comfier clothes, you plop yourself backwards onto your king sized bed. You reach for the laptop on your bedside table and decide to do more research on your most recent target. James Buchanan Barnes.
He was the perfect target. Previously known as The Winter Soldier, you were familiar with the long list of awful things he’d done. He was iconic. Practically a God of the Criminals. Between torture, theft, and murder, he’d done just about everything that you would usually target.
As a hitman, you were around a lot of death and a lot of destruction, but it never really bothered you. You never killed an innocent human being. Whenever anyone requested you take someone out, you did a very in depth background check on them. So in depth that you learned about little things: who they’ve had affairs with, their childhood fish, how often they visited bars, secret negotiations with artillery companies, etc.
You would only agree to someone’s request if you learned the target had a bad history. If they were involved in any sort of murder, government corruption, rape, things such as that. So agreeing to the extermination of Bucky Barnes wasn’t difficult for you, given his history with Hydra.
The amount of information on this man hurt your head. You suppose a lot can happen in 100 years.
However, when looking at his actions while apart from Hydra, you have zero reason to try and kill him. He’s been working alongside the Avengers. This man was very contradictory in all of his recent endeavors. You shut your laptop in frustration and decide to sleep it off.
Once you’ve napped and eaten some mac n cheese, you suit back up for yet another assignment. You slip into your sneakers and attach your belt to your black leggings. You disassemble your gun and store it into a backpack before placing a bandana over your nose and pulling your hood up.
Having two assignments in one day used to be uncommon, but recently, you have had request after request after request. Apparently you’ve become top dog with no intention of coming down.
You set up atop a nearly vacant apartment building. You reassemble your gun and set it on the edge of the building. You check the time, 3:45 PM. You have quite a few hours to spare so you waste time reading a book and watching some Netflix.
As 7 PM approaches, you decide to check your bank account, no money has been transferred causing you to sigh. You grab your phone and dial your client’s number.
“Hello?” “You gonna wait until the last second to pay me or have you backed out?” you question, leaning against the side of the building. “I planned on paying you once the job was finished.” He explains causing you to roll your eyes. “That was never the agreement. You have 10 minutes and I better see $10,000 in my bank account or your guy is going to sleep like a baby tonight.”
You hear a groan on the other end, “I can’t get it to you in 10 minutes. But I’ll get it to you, I promise.” Your fist clenches around your work phone and a slight cracking emits from the cheap plastic. “That seems very unfortunate, Dale. I have been sitting out here for 3 hours only for you to tell me I was wasting my time? You must be joking.” You seethe. “Okay okay! I transferred the money to you.”
You notice only $5,000 has been transferred into your account and you can’t help the anger that rolls from your shoulders, “Dale, you have 24 hours to get me an additional $10,000 or I won’t reschedule with you and I’ll come for your head instead.” You demand, ending the phone call and sighing.
Two unsuccessful missions in one day. You’re beyond pissed. You look through the scope of your gun and train it on your target. He was a heavy man by the name of George Palmer. He has engaged in many activities such as treason, having multiple affairs on his wife, and even aided in the violent removal of innocent homeless people in various areas of the city (so violent that many of them didn’t live to see the next morning).
He waddles toward a limo that visibly sank upon his entrance and you cringe. You hate people like George.
“You know, killing innocent people is a crime.” You whip around, clicking the safety off of your gun and training it on the source of the voice. Two men stand in front of you and your eyes narrow: Captain America and Bucky Barnes himself.
“Why aren’t you behind bars then?” you voice out, watching as two sets of blue eyes harden. “You’re the infamous Persephone?” Bucky questions, seeming surprised. “Yeah I guess, but I never chose to be called that, it just kinda happened.” You get a bit distracted and lower your gun.
“You’re a hitman?” Bucky still doesn’t seem convinced. You roll your eyes and snort, “Why do you seem so unconvinced there, James?” He visibly tenses at the name and your chest swells with triumph.
“You know we have to take you in right?” Steve questions and you immediately turn the safety on your gun and strap it to your back. “As fantastic as that sounds,” you begin, slowly moving backwards onto the ledge of the building, “my mother always told me not to go anywhere with strangers.”
“Does your mother know you’ve murdered people?” Bucky’s demeanor has completely changed and his face is stone cold. Your jaw clenches at his question. “Does yours?” you challenge and smirk when he falters at your words. “Listen fellas, I’m not a saint, but I’m not a bad guy. You have more important people to worry about. So how about this, you let me do my job, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”
“We just can’t do that, ma’am.” Mr. Patriotic sure as hell is getting on your nerves with his ‘righteous’ act. “Well. I understand that. Which is why you have to understand this.” With that, you hold your arms out and step from the side of the building.
The wind whips past your face and you genuinely wouldn’t be upset if your plan didn’t work out. But just as you had calculated, you land roughly in the back of a trash truck. You grin as the men’s forms fade into the darkness and the truck drives off.
That was weird. Who would have thought, the Avengers showing interest in you. You really have made a reputation for yourself. It puts a sour taste in your mouth. That or it could be the rotting food surrounding you. Either way you don’t like it.
You stealthily find your way back to your apartment, paranoid at the idea of confronting the ice princess and his patriotic pal once again. When you finally do get inside, you place your weapons inside of your safe and lock it. You slide into your bed and groan into your pillow.
It wouldn’t be the first time you have had a run in with the law, but with a quick change of identity and the right kind of makeover, you were back on track. But the Avengers are too smart for that. They are a group of elite, genius humans who aren’t easily fooled. How do you avoid them?
You’ll figure it out in the morning.
You are booked with clients this week, the last thing you need to worry about is having the avengers breathing down your neck. You’re going to have to be more cautious than ever before and that puts quite the damper on your mood.
That night, you really didn’t get any sleep.
While you’re eating breakfast, you receive a text on your work phone. ‘Let me know when your schedule opens. Hoping it will be soon with my new bid on Barnes.’ Your eyebrows shoot up and you slurp another spoonful of cereal in your mouth while you respond.
‘And what is this new amount?’
‘$5 Million if it’s done in the next month.’
Cheerios launch across your table as you choke. Your face becomes red and you’re still sputtering as you attempt to fathom that amount of money. 5 Fucking Million Dollars. That would give you enough money to quit work and go on a long overdue vacation.
You quickly reply saying you’ll find when to clear your schedule and you dance around your apartment in complete and utter joy.
You didn’t care that James Buchanan Barnes was on the road to redemption. He had done horrible things and deserved to pay for it.
There were two things you knew for sure:
Bucky Barnes needed to die.
And you we’re about to be a lot richer.
A/N: I don’t think I will be doing any tagging for this series. Still debating though!!