The Mimic - One-Shots

What if y/n and Steve were sent to Vormir?

Overview: Y/n and Steve are sent to Vormir instead of Natasha and Clint. (Comment your predictions before you read! At the time of writing this, I don't even know which way this will go.)

Word count: 2,905

Warnings: Angst, fighting, death.

*****

"Jesus, Steve! I'm allowed to take my boots off if my feet hurt. I haven't worn these things in years. It feels like I've got blisters on my blisters."

Y/n and Steve had arrived on Vormir about two hours ago, and they'd spent the entire time bickering. Pairing them up for a mission seemed like a very odd idea, especially since the two constantly butted heads, but they had no choice but to trust Bruce and Tony's judgement.

Y/n had tried her hardest to be nice with Steve, she really had. It was only one more mission. But the niceness didn't last. Steve was completely in 'focus mode'. He was going at his own pace, and that pace didn't account for y/n. Even friendly conversation wasn't on the table. He just wanted to get the stone and leave, and if it meant jogging up a mountain like the insane super soldier he was, then so be it.

Y/n was currently crouched down at the top of the mountain, busy untying the laces on her boots. She was caked in sweat. The climb up the mountain had been hellish, and there was no sort of entertainment from the Captain.

Steve rolled his eyes, stood a few feet away as he waited for y/n to take her boots off. His arms were crossed over his chest in annoyance, his shield resting against his shin. "We're on a mission, y/n. It's not a training session." He scolded, brows knitted together in annoyance. They were like a bickering pair of siblings. "Do you know how high the stakes are for this mission? If we-"

"Do I know how high the stakes are? Really, Steve?" Y/n interrupted, glaring up at him as she started to yank her boots off. "I watched Bucky turn to dust. The people closest to me are gone. Do you want me to list the names?" She snapped in a bitter tone, glancing back down at her boots so that Steve didn't see the tears forming in her eyes. "If my boots are really bothering you, then you're going to have to rethink your priorities."

Steve took a sharp breath as he was put in his place, continuing to watch y/n yank her boots off. "I know, but I'm just trying to be practical. Those boots are there to protect you. What if we get attacked?" He asked, waiting for her to stand back up so that they could keep moving. "We know nothing about this planet. If there are aliens-"

"If there are aliens, we run." Y/n sighed, surprised that she had to point out the obvious. "Besides, I'll be able to run faster when I don't have to worry about my boots cutting the blood flow from-"

"Welcome."

Y/n and Steve snapped into action in an instant at the sound of an unknown voice. No bickering, just teamwork.

Steve had lifted his shield up, his other hand reaching out to make sure y/n was behind him, and she was. Y/n had an orb of fire in her palm, an angry look in her eyes as she prepared to attack whoever was speaking. Her boots had been completely abandoned, stood behind Steve in a thick pair of socks, but she didn't care. They had other priorities.

A floating figure emerged from the opening in the mountain, covered in a tattered black cloak. It continued to move until the light revealed its face. Completely red skin. Malnourished to the point where every single bone could be seen on his face. "Y/n y/l/n, the famous Mimic. Steven Grant Rogers, the adored Captain America." The figure announced, a slight smile appearing on his face as his eyes focused on Steve. "Nice to see you again, Rogers."