UNDERCOVER - STEVE ROGERS X FEM!READER - 1.8K WORDS - welcome to the hidden fics -
“Rogers! Y/L/N!” Nick Fury walked into the Avengers tower, calling both your name and Steve’s. You got up from where you were reading at the table, and Steve walked into the room. Tony snorted at how much more respectful you both were to Nick than he was. Nick shot Tony a look, and returned his attention to you. “I’ve got a mission for you both. It’s undercover, aliases, the whole ordeal.”
You nodded, and so did Steve. “What are the aliases?” you asked curiously. Steve glanced over at you, then looked back at Nick for him to answer the questions.
“You two will be posing as a young married couple at a gala. There’s a man who works at Hydra who has a good amount of intel, and he’s bringing his wife. Your best in will be to small talk the information out of them. Should be easier, considering there’s going to be a lot of champagne and probably other forms of alcohol,” Nick informed.
You felt like your eyes were going to pop out of your skull. Young married couple?? The thought already made you nervous. Acting like you were married to Steve… it sounded both like a dream come true and your worst nightmare. You had definitely developed a pretty big crush on him, which was going to make this easier, yet more difficult. And how were you supposed to focus if you kept concentrating on him and acting like you were married? Ughh, why did Nick have to give you this mission? Granted, you would’ve been jealous if he’d asked Natasha to pretend to be Steve’s wife, but you were nervous as hell.
Little did you know, Steve’s nerves were jumping off the walls of his insides as well. He adored you. He thought you were the cutest, most incredible human on earth, and he would love to pretend to be your husband for the night. His biggest fear was that something would accidentally slip out, and he’d end up confessing his feelings to you. And that? That was terrifying. What if you thought he was crazy and never wanted to be around him again? What if you felt uncomfortable dating a guy who was technically ninety-six? Of course, he still looked twenty-seven—he felt twenty-seven— but he was from a different time. Worst of all, what if you just didn’t like him, at all? Horrifying thought. Nope, no way he was going to confess to you. He was going to keep his mouth shut as much as he could possibly help, and hope that nothing slipped out while you two were on mission.
“Conveniently,” Nick continued, and you snapped out of your thoughts. “You, Steve, are physically impossible to get drunk. If he challenges you to a drinking contest, you do it. But keep an eye on how much he drinks. You want him loose-lipped enough to get some information out of him, but not so inebriated that nothing he says is coherent. Find the balance.”
Steve nodded in understanding, and Nick turned to you.
“You know as well as I do that wives often know more than they let on. If you can get his wife comfortable enough with you, I would see what information she has to offer. She might be a valuable asset,” Nick suggested.
“Sounds like a good idea,” you answered.
In the kitchen, Natasha leaned over to Tony and whispered, “what are the chances you think Fury’s putting them together to see if they’ll actually get over themselves and go on a damn date?”
Tony’s brows furrowed. “Fury? Really?”
Natasha shrugged.
“I mean, you or me I could definitely see doing that, but Fury? Man’s all business,” Tony said. “It’s annoying, actually.”
“Okay, sure, but a young married couple?” Natasha pointed out. She was still keeping her voice done. You and Steve weren’t terribly far from the kitchen as you listened to Nick explaining the details of the mission, and she didn’t want her conversation with Tony heard.
“Yeah, that’s a little suspicious,” Tony admitted. “It does work for the mission, though.”
“Yeah, I know that,” Natasha said, a hint of agitation seeping into her voice. “I’m just saying. I think that Fury’s put them together intentionally.”
“Do you wanna place some bets?” Tony offered.
“Ten bucks they get together, five bucks Fury chose this for them intentionally,” Natasha replied, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Deal.”
Tony shook Natasha’s hand.
— — —
Steve was dressed in a suit and you were wearing one of your favorite formal dresses. He was in the driver’s seat of the car, driving you both to the gala. “You ready for this?” he asked.
“Sure am,” you lied through your teeth, smiling at him.
Steve gave you his fist, and you fist bumped him. “Mr. and Mrs. Wright,” Steve said with a smile.
“That’s right,” you nodded.
“Or Wright,” Steve quipped and you started laughing at his cheesy joke. He grinned at you. “We’re gonna do this…” he said in sing-song as he pulled into the parking lot of the venue. “Remember, if you’ve got anything we need to talk about, you tap a glass three times and I’ll meet you in the resting room by the bathroom.”
You nodded in agreement. “Fancy. A resting room by the bathroom.”
Steve laughing. “Sure is.” He got out of the car and walked around to open your door. He held out his hand and helped you out of the car.
Once you were in the venue, you each got a drink and began to mingle around, looking for your targets. You tried to stay relatively close together, trying to act in a way that would make people think you were a newly married couple.
Steve nudged your arm slightly, nodding toward a small group gathered near the dance floor. Your target and his wife stood at the center, clearly enjoying the conversation.
“I’ve got an idea,” Steve said. Before you could ask, he was already leading you over, stopping just close enough to catch the attention of the man’s wife.
“Excuse me,” you said with a warm smile. “We’re new to these kinds of events—do you mind if we join you?”
Her face lit up with the kind of politeness that came with social etiquette. “Oh, of course! We were just talking about…”
And just like that, you were in.
— — —
Soon, you were talking to the target’s wife—her name was Amanda Jefferson—making small talk to get her more comfortable with you. “So, you’re newlyweds? That’s exciting,” Amanda grinned at you.
“Yes, we are,” you smiled.
“How long have you been married?”
“About eight months. He’s just…he’s amazing, I love him. He’s been a pretty consistent part of my life for almost five years now, and I just… I can’t picture life without him anymore.”
Amanda’s face softened. “I’m so happy for you.”
You grinned. “Thank you so much.”
Amanda took a sip of her wine, her smile faltering just slightly as she turned her glass in her hands. “That’s wonderful,” she said, her voice quieter now. “It’s nice to have that kind of certainty.”
You tilted your head. “You don’t sound convinced.”
She let out a soft chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “No, no, it’s not that. I just—” She hesitated, as if choosing her words carefully. “It’s refreshing to hear someone talk about love like that. Like it’s… easy.”
You frowned. “Love isn’t always easy, but it should feel right, shouldn’t it?”
Amanda exhaled slowly, her gaze drifting to the other side of the room, where her husband stood, engaged in conversation with a group of people—none of whom were her. “I suppose so.”
You followed her gaze. “How long have you and Mr. Jefferson been married?”
“Six years.” Her fingers tightened slightly around the stem of her glass. “Feels like longer.”
There was something almost weary in the way she said it. You watched as she glanced back at her husband again, her expression unreadable but distant, like she was seeing something—or someone—you couldn’t.
“Six years is a long time,” you said carefully. “But… that’s a good thing, right?”
Amanda’s lips pressed together in a thin, tired smile. “Sometimes.” She took another sip of wine. “And sometimes, it’s just… time.”
— — —
Meanwhile, Steve was having a drink with Mr. Jefferson, who seemed relaxed but ever so slightly calculating—like a man who never truly let his guard down.
“You seem like a man who appreciates the details,” Mr. Jefferson remarked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass.
Steve gave a polite nod. “I try to be.”
Mr. Jefferson smirked. “Good. I respect that.” He set his glass down and adjusted his cuffs. “Actually, I think there’s something you might find interesting—some files I keep in my study. Would you care to take a look?”
Steve met his gaze evenly. “Lead the way.”
— — —
A couple hours later, you tapped your wine glass three times and gave Steve a look—he’d returned recently from looking at the files with Mr. Jefferson—and then walked to the resting room. A moment later, Steve excused himself, and joined you in the resting room, closing the door behind him. “Oh my God, she hates her husband!” you whispered to Steve. His eyes widened. “She told me a bunch of stuff,” you whispered. “Like the vault in—”
“The vault in Brooklyn!” Steve whisper shouted.
You grinned. “He was talking to you, too?”
“Well, he’s kind of drunk now, but I got to see a bunch of files. I memorized the code he put in,” Steve said, keeping his voice down still.
“Oh my God!” you whisper shouted back. Then you heard footsteps approaching, and someone was about to open the door. Shit. What if they found out what you and Steve were doing here? Suddenly, Steve cupped your face in his hands and kissed you. You were shocked but quickly fell into it, and then the door opened.
A man walked in. “Oh, sorry, guys. I’ll just… leave you alone.” And he left.
You turned to look back at Steve. He looked nervous. “I’m sorry, it was the first thing I came up with and—”
Before you could rethink your decision, you cupped his face with your hands and pulled him back to you, kissing him again. He immediately started kissing you back, his hands finding your waist and barely holding you there. He was tentative, careful. When you broke away, you said softly, “we should probably, uh, go back to work.”
Steve shrugged with a slight playful smile. “Eh. He’s drunk off his mind anyway.”
You smiled and he pulled you back, kissing you again. “So…” you said a moment later. “Should we go home…?”
“Yeah,” he nodded, looking at you affectionately. “And maybe…maybe I can take you on a real date tomorrow…?”
You grinned. “Yes.”