avengers preferences / one shots

when he is sick.

Thor Odinson.
Sickness isn't very common in Asguard, so whenever Thor started feeling bad he was 100% sure he was going to die.

"Y/N.. I just want to say I love you." Your boyfriend admitted as he shuffled into the room, wrapping his arms around you. You raised a brow, "Yeah, I love you too, Thor, what's the problem?" you ask as he sighs, "I'm dying."
"What?!" you ask, alert as you pull from the hug, examining him, "What's wrong?! Do you need to go to the hospital?"

Thor just shook his head, moving and sitting on the couch, "It is too late, my Love, I can feel death approaching, my nose is blocked, my head is aching, I am warm and cold." He frowned. You paused for a moment, processing what he told you before rolling your eyes and walking over to him, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom, "You aren't dying, Thor. You're sick."

"Sick?" He frowned, "That thing that happens to humans?"
"And Gods too, apparently." You chuckled, "Now under the covers, I'll get you a painkiller and a cup of hot chocolate, you can watch a movie if you'd like?" You offered, making the giant, fearless God pout and nod, "Will you stay with me?"

You sigh and nod, "Of coarse."

Steve Rogers.
Your boyfriend had admitted he was sick last week, you, being the nurse-like person you are, sentenced him to stay in bed and drink tea.

Whilst currently making him a hot water bottle you heard the familiar squeak of his running shoes on the wooden shoes, raising a brow you turned around, "Steven, what do you think your doing?"

The red nosed man looked to you, frozen when he was caught, before sighing and standing up straight, "I want to try going out for a run?" He frowned.

You sighed, shaking your head, "How is the cold going to help with you already being freezing?" You asked concerned, making him groan, "Y/N, I don't like being stuck to my bed, please, just let me go out for one run?" He asked with a sigh.

You stared at him with as you thought before nodding, "Okay, okay, but call if anything happens.." You insist.

An hour and a half later, the door bursts open, a much healthier and happier Steve striding in with a smile.

"How'd you feel- Steve!" You scold, as the man picks you up, "Much better, now can we go take a nap, that took a lot out of me." He chuckled.

Tony Stark
"Y/N!" You heard the voice call out, groaning you got up from the couch, walking to the billionaires bedroom before opening the door, "Yes, Mr Stark?" You looked to your boss, him sitting on his bed, surrounded by tissues. "Have you called the nurse yet?" He frowned, sniffing.

You sigh and nod, "Yes, Sir."
"And have you called Julie? The housekeep?"
"Yes, Sir, but it isn't really her job to take care of you when you're sick." You sighed, watching him roll his eyes.

Tony sat up slightly and lifted another tissue, blowing his nose before slumping back down with a frown. Internally groaning, you walked over and began lifting the used tissues, lifting the bin tin in his room and putting them in there.

"What are you doi-"
"You're sick and need someone to look after you." You insisted, dumping the last of the tissues in before standing up straight, "I'll make you a drink." You nod, going over and opening his window, "Perfect, I'll take a vodka and coke." He nodded.

"Tony. You're getting a cup of tea." You insist, walking over to him and feeling his forehead, "Stay in bed." You tell him.

Tony looked up at you, "Well, Thanks for this, Y/N, I could kiss you." He chuckled.

You looked to the sick man, a tissue stuffed up his nose, "Please don't."

Clint Barton.
Clint didn't like to admit he was sick, he tried to push it down and refused any help.

There wasn't much to do about it, the man refused to accept he was sick. So whenever he rolled around with constant sneezing or sore heads, you would pretty much be like this:

"You're sick."
"I'm fine."
"Clint, I can literally feel you radiating heat, you're burning up."
"I don't recall, I feel peachy, Have you seen my jacket?"
"You aren't going out."
"And why not?"
"You're sick!"
"False."
"Clint."
"Yes?"
"Go to bed."
"Okay, fine."
"Clint, the bedroom is in that direction, stop walking to the door- Clint, come back you're sick!"
"I love you! Be home soon!"

Bruce Banner.
The little sweat heart was not like the other members who refused to accept he was sick. He sat on the couch, hugging a water bottle as the TV played a movie.

Just then you walked through the door, seeing your boyfriend cuddled up alone. "Bruce, what's wrong?" You frown, walking over to him. "I'm sick," he nodded, "I just don't feel well, don't worry about it, I have given myself a painkiller, got washed up, I have handled it all myself, no need to worry."

You chuckled softly, fixing his hair, "Sweetie, that's my job to look after you." You insisted, Bruce smiling a little, "Sorry, but there is one thing I can't do myself?" He opened his arms, making you smile, lifting the throw on the couch you cuddled up beside him, covering you too as he kissed your head, "I love you." He hummed.
"I love you too, Sweetie."

Loki Laufeyson.
Loki, much like Thor, wasn't used to sickness, and his need to seem superior only made his reaction worse.

"Loki, lie down." You frowned, dragging your boyfriend upstairs, Loki just frowned, his nose red, "I don't need to." He insisted, reluctantly letting you pull him up to your shared room. "Yes, you do, Loki, you're sic-"
"No, I'm not, Y/N."
"Loki, shush, upstairs, get out of your clothes-"

Loki hesitated, raising a brow with a smirk, "Are you sure this is about me being sick?" He asked as you guided him in, moving his hair out of his face and rolling your eyes, "Shut up." You chuckle, going to your bed and pulling back the covers, patting the bed, "Put on something comfy amd get in."

Loki groaned, doing as you said as he slowly got dressed into sweatpants you bought him, before getting into bed and looking up at you, "Happy." He frowned, you kissed his head and nodded, "Yes, now I will make you something to eat and run you a bath, Love."

You stood up straight, fixing his hair again before walking to the door, "Y/N?" Loki mumbled from the bed, making you turn.

"Will you be in the bath with me?"
"I will throw your helmet at you."

Pietro Maximoff.
Pietro? Get sick? Please.

Bucky Barnes.
Bucky dragged himself out of his bedroom, seeing you, without saying a word he moved to the couch you were sitting on and say beside you, instantly lying with you.

"Who is th- Bucky? Are you okay?" You rose a brow as you felt two arms wrap around you, and beard burns on your neck as he cuddled up to you, "No." He mumbled, squeezing you gently, "Steve thinks I'm sick."

You chuckled softly, shifting so you were hugging him back, you on your back, him on his stomach, "And what do you think?" You asked, him somewhat pouting, "I think he's right.."

You ah'd and nodded, moving a hand to play with his hair, "Is there anything I can do?" You asked softly, "Hug me more."

You and Bucky sat for a good twenty minutes, talking quietly and cuddling closely, before both of you started to drift off. Steve soon finding the two of you curled up against one another an hour later asleep.

A/N: this sucks but i wanted to update:-)