and & eccentric agent

Mr. & Mrs. Evans

Originally posted by pleasingpics

Originally posted by beardedchrisevans

Pairing: Steve X Reader

Rated: T

Genre: Romance/Humor

Summary: You were a loan from the X-Men to help Steve on an undercover mission to retrieve former SHIELD agents at Dr. Greenwood’s mansion, an eccentric millionaire doctor that loves hosting extravagant parties.


Goosebumps erupted all over your skin as your bare back met the metal wall. You arched, gasping at the feeling of Steve’s teeth and tongue and beard scraping your neck. 

You dragged Steve’s face back to yours and planted your open mouth against his, urging his tongue to come out and play. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Evans, this is a restricted section,” a stern voice came from your right. Steve pulled away but kept his hands firmly on your waist. It was the butler from earlier.

You blushed and tried hiding your face on Steve’s chest. He ran a hand across your back.

“Sorry sir,” Steve apologized, “we were just looking for some place private.”

The butler’s stern expression didn’t change. “I understand Mr. Evans, however, next time may I suggest using the bathroom next to the ballroom like all other newly-weds have done in the past.”

Without another word, the butler turned and headed down the hallway, clearly expecting you two to follow. You and Steve shared an amused glance.

“Nice thinking back there,” You whispered as Steve pulled you closer to his side. The butler had put a large distance between himself and you, but you knew it was better to be cautious. Steve flashed you a crooked smile.

“Nat taught me well,” He said just as quietly, “Did you plant the bug?”

You nodded, burrowing yourself deeper into his side. Stark should be able to hack into the hidden door within minutes.

The Butler stopped in front of the double French doors and pulled one open. You could practically feel the judgment rolling off of him in waves. Well, better that than suspicion.

“Ah, there you are!” Dr. Greenwood, a tall skinny man with kind blue eyes and an impressive handlebar mustache, cheered from the head of the dining table. “We were wondering where you ran off to.”

“They were entertaining themselves by the east wing,” The butler drawled, cutting off any attempts you or Steve had to explain.

Steve immediately turned scarlet. You smiled sheepishly, rubbing your already bruising neck. It sucked to have such fragile skin.

“I’m sorry Dr. Greenwood,” You said ignoring the looks and whispers coming from the rest of the guests. “It was the quietest place we could think of.”

The doctor chuckled, waving a hand away. “Nonsense. You are young and newlyweds I would be worried if you hadn’t tried escaping the venue.”

After a few more apologies, you found yourself sitting at the dining table, staring at the smallest whole chicken you had ever seen in your life. It was the size of your ear.

You sighed sadly as your stomach rumbled in protest. You were missing Logan’s famous barbecue ribs. Sometimes you wished your giant hard-on for the Avengers didn’t make you so eager and ready to jump at their call.

A couple of months ago, Natasha Romanoff appeared at Xavier’s school asking for help.

Six SHIELD agents had gone missing on a standard trip to Lagos and it was suspected that they were being held somewhere in New York. But with no traces of the kidnappers or evidence, SHIELD’s only solution was to ask help from the school.

With the Professor and Jean Grey dead, all Ororo Storm could do was lend her best student for the job. You. 

You were a natural tracker. All you needed was to see a picture or a video of the person and you were already on their trail.

It took you less than a day to find them at Dr. Greenwood’s mansion. 

Dr. Greenwood was an eccentric billionaire that spent less time saving children and more time throwing extravagant parties. And he was always a sucker for inviting rich, attractive, newly-wed to his parties.

“Mrs. Evans, please, tell us about how you spent your honeymoon. Clearly, it wasn’t as long as you wished,” He teased, glancing between you and Steve. The women in the room giggled and sat up straight, eager to hear more about the mysterious couple in their midst.

Steve blushed, but took your hand in his, brushing a kiss against your knuckles. You smiled sweetly at him.

“You’re right, it was two weeks too short,” You said, sending bedroom eyes to your fake husband. The blush that crept up his neck made you inwardly cackle. It was one of the perks of taking this job. You turned your attention back to the rest of the guests. “Steve was called back in to do an emergency surgery on a couple of poor puppies that were found on the side of the street-”

Some of the women gasped. Dr. Greenwood shook his head in disgust. Nothing made people more upset than injured helpless animals.

“and J. Jonah Jamieson doesn’t know the meaning of alone time,” You continued dryly. You had never met him personally, but seeing how he attacked the Spiderkid, he better hope you never do.

“He is a bit crass,” one of the guests said, who looked like he had the misfortune of meeting Jamieson. You felt for him, deeply. A couple of others muttered amen. 

“But where did you go?” asked one of the elderly women in the group. She was dressed head to toe in green silk. It looked odd against her pale complexion. 

“Egypt,” You grinned happily, giving Steve a wink.

 It had been so strange in the beginning, acting like you were married to the first superhero ever, but that was the thing really. You weren’t married to Steve Rogers – no matter how much your middle-school-self doodled it on all her notebooks – you were married to Steve Evans.  And that’s really all it took. It became easier to take his hand and tiptoe to kiss his cheek and called him all the ridiculous pet names that you could think of. 

Of course, it didn’t stop you from wishing you could actually climb him like jungle gym instead of hinting it to the rest of the guests. You were only human. And Steve Rogers was damn fine. 

“She used to tell me stories about her make-believe trips there with her father,” Steve continued for you, squeezing your hand gently. “I figured since her father passed away recently, it would be a perfect gift for both of them somehow.”

You ducked your head, trying to blink away the tears. You had told him about that, but you never thought that he would be so sweet about it. It made you wonder for the million time on this mission what it would be like to actually be married to him. 

“You have a wonderful husband at your side, my dear,” said the woman sitting beside you with thick bottled glasses. She patted your free hand. “Don’t let him go.”

You smiled at her. “I won’t.”

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New OC! Miss Rufflebee is an eccentric talent agent and the business owner of The Bee’s Knees Theater. Her clients are generally on the younger side, as she tends to seek out local theatre and dance productions, choirs, acapella groups, and talent shows to find diamonds in the rough. Music and dance are usually her areas of expertise, though she has helped emerging stars from other areas in the past.

She is known for her seemingly endless energy and optimism, though her more reserved clients may be put off by her insistence to book big venues first if their shows require little refinement. She has lost some clients this way, and she is working on properly addressing the needs of stage-frightened and anxious clients.