Avengers Imagines

Flying Death Trap - Steve Rogers

Warnings: none
Description: you end up sharing earbuds on a plane with a handsome stranger
Word count: 1152

You hate planes. Something about trusting a heavy metal contraption to carry you to a far away place at 8,000 miles per hour literally millions of feet up in the air doesn't exactly sit right with you; how can anyone honestly trust these things? If this death trap goes down, there is absolutely no surviving.

Your fingers drum against the arm rest as your nerves take over. You're in the middle seat, absolutely refusing to sit by the window where you'll be forced to see how high in the air you are. The fact that complete strangers will be sitting on either side of you is not making you feel any better.

What if something happens? What if the plane goes down? People hijack these things right? Oh, god. Breathe Y/N.

"Excuse me, miss?"

You swallow your fear and turn to meet the ocean blue eyes of a handsome stranger. He's holding a backpack in his hand and looking at you with a charming half-smile.

"O-Oh, are you in the window seat?" You manage to get out, standing up suddenly only to hit your head on the compartment above you. "Ow!" You hold your head as a blush rises on your cheeks; this is a great way to start a three hour plane ride with this man.

"Are you alright?" The man asks, actually seeming concerned over your current situation as he slides his lean figure into the window seat.

"Just peachy," you grumble, plopping back on your seat with a huff. "This day cannot get any better."

The stranger with the nice eyes settles in next to you while you resume your tapping, your leg bouncing in time with your fingers. You cannot sit still waiting for some impending doom. The seat belt light turns on and you instantly obey, buckling in your seat belt and pulling it tight. The sound of low laughter makes you freeze with your hands on the belt as you turn to the man next to you.

"What is it you think is going to happen?" Amused blue eyes meet yours and you shiver thinking about all of the possibilities.

"On this death trap? I don't even want to think about it," you groan, digging through your backpack to look for your headphones, your hands searching more frantically when you don't find them. "God, please no."

"Is something wrong?"

"I left my headphones at my friend's apartment," you sigh, leaning back against the seat tiredly. "Truly, this day couldn't be worse."

"Well, the plane could crash," the man shrugs and your eyes widen as you slap his arm. He looks at you in disbelief as he laughs at your childish action.

"That is so not funny, whatever your name is," you cross your arms over your chest willing your heartbeat to slowdown.

"It's Steve and you'll be okay, nothing will happen to you," the man, Steve, gives you a white-toothed grin and your anxiety melts away a little at the sight.

"Well, Steve, how would you know? It's not like you've been in a plane crash," you roll your eyes and watch as his expression visibly shifts from humorous to uncomfortable.

"Maybe I have," he tries to keep his cool composure but you can tell your words struck some chord. "Besides, you can share music with me."

You look at him incredulously, not sure you've ever met someone more kind in your entire life. "You don't even know me and you're going to let me listen to your music?"

"Uh, well, you can pick the songs," he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. "I'm not up to speed on music nowadays."

That comment puts you off a little but you have no time to question it as the plane begins to move. You squeeze your eyes shut and grip the arm rests of the seat as tight as you can, confident that your knuckles are white and so is your face.

"Hey, doll, listen to me," Steve's voice breaks through the noise of the plane, a noticeable Brooklyn accent creeping into his words. "You're okay, I'm right here with you."

His words soothe you despite the tension in your entire body and you finally manage to breathe. "It's Y/N, by the way."

"What?"

"My name, it's Y/N." You open your eyes to smile at him only to find him already looking at you. Your stomach does a small flip as he runs his hand through his blonde hair, smiling kindly at you.

"It's a beautiful name."

A blush makes its way to your cheeks as you try your hardest to turn away, thinking of a way to
change the subject.

"So, about that music."

You and Steve talk for a bit as you show him a variety of your favorite songs. His kindness and overall personality allows you to forget you're even on the plane. It's fun introducing him to new types of music seeing as he's only into Swing and Jazz normally. Eventually, you find yourself falling asleep, the playlist you and Steve created together playing in your ear.

When you wake up later, the pilot announces that you're beginning to descend. You're surprised to find your laying on something firm and warm, tilting your head only to see a head of blonde hair moving with your own. You look down and notice your arm is intertwined with Steve's and your heart jumps into your throat. The both of you must have fallen asleep on each other listening to the music.

"Steve!" You say softly, nudging the man a little with your shoulder.

"Hmm?" He mumbles making you giggle, smiling as his weary eyes open to meet yours.

"We're landing soon."

This seems to get his attention because he untangles himself from you, a soft pink color rising on his cheeks as he realizes the position the two of you were in.

"Uh- I'm sorry," he says sheepishly his embarrassment making you laugh a little.

"Hey, it's okay," you assure him, patting his muscular arm softly. "It's not every day I get to
sleep on a cute stranger."

He raises his eyebrows but the pink color on his face only deepens, making you laugh again.

"So," he starts awkwardly and you nod, urging him to continue. "What happens if I want to learn more about modern day music after this flight?" His tone is innocent but you can tell what he's getting at and it's your turn to blush a bit. "I don't know many girls with your music taste."

"Well, Mr. Rogers, I guess you'll just have to call me sometime," you grin, taking his phone and typing in your phone number quickly.

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah. I kind of owe you for making this plane ride enjoyable."

Who knew that a flying death trap was the key to meeting a wonderful guy? Maybe planes aren't so bad after all...