MCU (Avengers) Imagines Part Two

Sam Wilson X Reader - The Man Who Can't Be Moved

A/N - This chapter was inspired by the song 'The Man Who Can't Be Moved' by The Script. I hope you all enjoy it.

Who on Earth is stupid enough to run to the top of a building during a fire? Sure, your mind was smoke addled, and the fire had been two floors below your apartment, but still... Going up to the roof probably wasn't the smartest choice you'd ever made. 

You couldn't even see the street below you through the smoke pouring out of the building's windows and you were almost certain that the firefighters probably couldn't see you either.

You leant forwards a little further, hoping to catch the attention of anyone at street level. All it would take was one pedestrian with good eyesight and people would know where you were. They would be able to help you. As you leant out a little more, raising an arm in an attempt to signal literally anyone, you felt your grip on the ledge slip, your arm giving out beneath you, and your entire body toppled forward. 

It was an odd sensation. You weren't certain which way was up and which was down, and your stomach churned as your head tried to make sense of what was happening. Falling. You were falling. You were falling from the top of your apartment building and, God, you were probably going to die. But before you could open your mouth to scream, you felt something crash into you, and suddenly you weren't falling anymore. 

"You're alright," a voice started, so calm and smooth that it only confused you further. You were dying. This was an angel. There was no other logical explanation for what was happening to you. "I've got you," the voice pressed on, and your breath caught in your throat. If this was an angel, that meant you'd made it into heaven. It meant you'd been a good person and lived a good life- "We'll have you back on two feet in just a second," the voice murmured, interrupting your train of thought. Okay, so maybe it wasn't an angel flying you around. 

Your eyes shot open, finding a helmet covered head right next to you. Definitely not an angel. It took you a few moments to compose yourself enough to look away from your saviour, letting your focus fall back to the world around you as he finally landed on the street, met with a chorus of cheering. 

"There we go," the voice hummed, letting your feet touch the ground, only for your knees to give way underneath you. "Whoa," he started again, his arm wrapped firmly around your middle. His hand lifted, pressing a button that sent his helmet whirring, revealing the face underneath. "Take your time," he started, concern clear across his features. 

"Are you an angel?" you finally uttered, mentally slapping yourself for saying the thought out loud. 

His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and then he was smiling down at you. "Not an angel," he chuckled. "Got to remember that question. My friends will think that's funny." You continued to stare at him with wide eyes for a moment, looking so confused and lost that it made his heart hurt slightly. "I'm Sam," he finally told you. 

"I'm-"

"EMT's coming through," a called out, and you quickly fell silent as you saw the paramedics pushing through the crowd to get to you. "Hi, Sweetie," an older lady started, quickly moving you out of Sam's grasp and over to the gurney her assistants were carrying. "We're going to give you a quick check over, make sure you aren't going to keel over on us, alright?" You nodded, letting her push you into a sitting position. 

The rest of the evening had been a blur. A messy, test filled blur that had led to an evening spent in the hospital when the EMT's had started getting concerned about the amount of smoke you'd inhaled during the fire.  

You'd had to go over to your friend's apartment the next morning, dressed in clothes you'd borrowed from one of the nurses. Everything you had ever owned was in your apartment, and now, it was completely ruined. There wasn't a single part of you that wanted to go and sift through the rubble of your life, picking out the shards in the hopes of piecing it all together again. But a couple of days later, your friend had finally put her foot down. You would have to go back eventually, and it was better to get it over and done with so that you could move on. 

The walk had been short but you'd taken it slow. Your lungs still ached with too much exercise, and even taking a flight of stairs was a little tough. 

When you rounded the corner onto your street, you spotted Sam immediately, leaning up against the side of a building, scanning the face of the people passing him. And then his eyes had landed on you and a smile had pulled at his lips as he pushed himself upright. 

"Hi," he started softly as you approached. 

"Sam," you hummed, smiling slightly when he brightened at your use of his name. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to check in to make sure you were alright, but I never got your name, and you have no idea how hard it is to find someone when all you know about them is the building they might live in," he rambled, shaking his head slightly. 

"So you were just waiting for me?"

Sam's smile faded slightly. "I can hear how that could be creepy-"

"No," you interrupted quickly, shaking your head. "It's sweet. I just wasn't expecting it." You paused for a moment. "I'm Y/N, by the way. In case you ever needed to find me without just lingering on a street corner."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Maybe I could just get a number and I could call you instead?" 

Your mouth opened slightly, surprised. "Wow," you hummed. "You are really smooth, huh?" 

Sam shrugged slightly. "You were the one that started calling me an angel when we first met," he corrected, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Bucky, he's a friend of mine, he thought that was pretty damn funny. Says you clearly don't know me if you think I'm an angel."

You hesitated for a moment. "I don't know. A guy who's willing to hang around in the cold all day just to make sure I'm okay? That sounds pretty angelic to me." He was grinning when you looked up at him. "Give me your phone."

He suddenly looked very confused. "What?"

"Unless you can memorise a phone number at the drop of a hat, I think I'll need to put it into your contacts, right?"

"Oh," he uttered, fumbling in his pocket to hand you his phone. "So, I can just call you?"

You nodded. "That is what you do with phones," you teased him as you typed it in. "Give me a call and maybe we could hang out," you added as you handed the phone back. "I'll see you later, Sam."

He raised a hand, waving as you walked away from him. And when he glanced down at his phone, he saw the new contact number, your number, saved under the name Angel.

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