Avenger Imagines/Preferences!

You're Hurt

Tony: You had woken up the day after your first college basketball practice and you could barely move. You released a groan and attempted to get out of bed. "Okay. No," You mutter as you sit back down on the edge of the bed as your calves burn.

Tony walks in with coffee and tilts his head to the side. "Are you okay?"

"I can't move..."

He comes and sits behind you, wrapping his arms around you. "Ow..." you mumble.

"Where does it hurt?"

"Everywhere...."

"Fine. Where does it hurt the most?"

"My shoulders..."

He forces you to lie down and you feel him crawl over you and straddle you. He presses his hands to your shoulders and begins to gently massage them.

"Thank you, Tony..."

"You aren't allowed to be sore when I didn't have anything to do with it, baby girl."

"I would smack you but I can't move..."

Tony just laughed. But every once in a while while he was rubbing your shoulders you heard him grumble something about 'Stupid basketball' and 'messing with his Y/N time' and it being 'unfair and cruel'.

Thor: "Lady Y/N? Are you all right?" Thor asks, jogging over to where you sit on the floor.

"Yeah..."

"What is wrong?"

"I twisted my ankle," you mutter.

Thor lifted you up and carried you up the stairs to your apartment. He set you down on the couch and propped your foot up on the coffee table. He went to the kitchen and came back with a bag of ice wrapped in a washcloth. He set it gently on your ankle. You couldn't help but dig your nails into the couch cushion and wince at the added weight on your ankle. Thor takes a seat next to you, pulling your head down to rest it on his shoulder. He just sat and cuddled you until your ankle was feeling just a tad better.

Steve: You were out golfing with Steve. He had never been and thought it would be a good bonding experience if you taught him how to play one of your favorite sports. The thing is, Steve isn't very good. He either missed the ball, dug up the ground, or managed to hit the ball at you.

You were walking over to him but Steve decided he was going to hit the ball when you were right behind him. You got a golf club to the eyebrow. The impact knocked you flat on your butt. "Ow..." You moaned.

"Oh my God. Y/N, I am so sorry!" He frets, kneeling down next to you. He moves your hand away from your head and finds it red with blood. "Shit..."

"Language, Stevie," you chuckle slightly.

"I'm taking you to the hospital." He picks you up and wraps you around him like a koala and grabs your bag of clubs in the other.

You ended up getting seven stitches on your eyebrow and Steve vowed never to go golfing again, saying the country club was your place.

Pietro: You're clutzy. It's just how you were. So, when you fell off your skateboard again, Pietro wasn't the least bit surprised but was still by your side in a moments notice, pulling you to your feet. But this time, something was different. Your wrist was bent at an awkward angle and it hurt when he touched it. You couldn't stop the stream of curse words flowing from your mouth as you cradled your wrist.

"Come on, Princess. I'm going to take you to the doctor, okay?"

"Okay..."

He picks you up bridal style and runs you to the hospital. He stops at the reception desk. "Can we see a doctor, please?" Pietro asks.

"What seems to be the problem?" The receptionist asks.

"I broke my wrist..."

"Okay, sweetheart, please, take a seat and someone will be with you momentarily," the little old lady says with a smile and resumes her typing.

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You left the hospital with a Y/F/C cast on your left wrist. Pietro was the first to sign his name and leave you a little message reminding you how much he loves and adores you.

Bruce: You had a regional basketball game. You had gone up to block a shot and and when you landed you went to change directions to follow your team up court.

You felt a pop in your knee and you were down. You screamed. God. It hurt so f*cking bad! The ref blew his whistle as your coach jogged towards you. He kneeled by you looking at your knee which was beginning to swell. "Get an EMT," he tells one of the refs. He turns back to you. "I think you tore your ACL, Y/N."

"What!?"

"I'm sorry but you'll be out for the rest of the season," he says gently. You knew it kind of hurt him to lose one of his starters but it kinda hurt you knowing you had to sit the rest of the season.

The EMT was there in a matter of minutes with Bruce not too far behind, helping to set you up on the stretcher. Bruce walked along side of you and rode to the hospital with you.

He sat with you in your room, holding your hand as the doctor went over what would have to be done to get your knee back to normal. The doctor left to go find a pair of crutches and a brace.

Bruce looked at you and sighed. "God, can't last one game without getting a scrape or messing up your knee, now can you?"

"No. I'm accident prone, you know that."

"Yes, I do. That doesn't give you permission to go and do this."

"I know..."

He chuckles softly and kisses your temple.

Clint: You and Clint were out fishing. You both loved how peaceful it was compared to the city. It would've been even better if Clint hadn't have hooked you. He had gone back to cast and released way too early and caught you right in the back of the knee.

You cussed. You cussed a lot. You had to go lay down in the back of his pick-up truck so the hook didn't get any deeper than it already was. He had the back window open and he wouldn't stop apologizing as he made the quick drive to the hospital.

No matter how many times you told him it was okay, he claimed it wasn't and that he was deeply sorry.

You left with a bandage wrapped around your knee and a bloody fish hook. Needless to say, you will not be standing by Clint the next time you two go fishing.

A/N: Sorry for making two of them about basketball =/ So. Comment. Vote. -med_01