You're flying a plane. Weird right? Your family and friends heavily discouraged you from joining the army, but you always did have a death wish. Your boyfriend, Steve Rogers, is in the plane next to you, right over the freezing cold ocean. You're communicating with him through the radio.

"Y/N, are you alright over there?" he asks innocently.

"I know how to fly a plane, you punk," you tease.

"I know Y/N, it's just-"

"Steve," you interrupt. "I'm fine, alright? Quit worryin'."

"Alright," he says. You hear some abnormal beeping and the radio goes silent.

"Steve?" you ask. No answer. "Steve, honey, what's going on?" Another moment of silence passes.

"Y/N, something's wrong," he states shakily.
"How wrong?" you ask, concern laced in your voice.

"I'm not sure," he answered.
"Well, do something about it!" you reply, extremely concerned.
"The planes been hit. I-I, we're going down Y/N," he said.
"What?! No! Steve, you are not going to die on me!" you screamed.
"Y/N, listen. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. You go and have a good life, ok? Please?" he pleaded.
"No! Steve don't leave me! I love you!" you cried out, not caring what the others thought of you.
"I love you more," he stated calmly, and that's when you saw it. His plane crashed, right into the freezing blue expanse below you.
You were startled by the sound of a scream, but when you sit up and look around the dark walls of your room in the Avengers Tower, you recognize the scream as your own. Your forehead is drenched in sweat, which you wipe away with a shaking hand. Your body is racked with sobs, but before you can even curl up in a ball, your bedroom door flies open, revealing a large figure.
"Y/N?" it said with a worried tone.
"S-Steve?" you whimpered, unsure.
"Oh, sweetheart what's wrong?" he whispered, running to your bed. He ripped the comforter off you and checked for injuries. When he found none, he stared into your eyes, begging for an answer. When he received none, he decided the best thing he could do was hug you. He climbed onto the bed and held you close to him, letting you bury your tear-stained face in his chest. It was cold without the comforter, but the heat from his body was enough to make you forget about it. Soon your breaths were less ragged, and you lifted your head from Steve's soaked shirt.
"Sweetheart, will you tell me what's wrong?" he whispered with concern as he brushed the hair away from your eyes.
"I-I was flying next to you, and we were fine. Then you c-crashed into the ice and-"
"Hey," he said, rubbing circles in your cheek. "That was in the past. I'm here, and I'm stayin'. You can count on that."
You gazed up into his warm eyes. "I love you Steve."
"I love you more," he smiled. He continued to hold you close until your breathing slowed and you fell asleep. Then, being the gentleman he is, he kissed your forehead and returned to his room where he slept until it was time to wake you up with breakfast.