Teen!reader

"Sweetheart, it's time for school, are you up?"

"I don't feel good, dad. Can I stay home?"

Bucky knocked gently on your door, a little worried because you had never asked to stay home before. "You don't feel good? Like what? Can I come in?"

"Fine, come in," you sighed and pulled your blankets up to your chin. You curled on your side with your windows pulled shut to lessen the headache that was starting to bother you, and hoped that this would be a short and mostly quiet discussion.

"Hey," he whispered, "you do look miserable." He walked over to you and sat at the edge of your bed, resting the back of his hand on your forehead. "You don't feel warm though, what's going on?"

"It's not that kind of sick, dad."

He looked at you for a moment, not understanding what you were saying. He furrowed his brow as he thought, and you knew that he wasn't going to get it anytime soon.

"It's a...girl...thing."

"Oh!" he gasped as he realized. "Um, okay, sure, you can stay home." He gave you a quick kiss on the forehead and stepped back, nervously running his hands through his hair. "Do you want me to ask Nat to come up?"

With no warning, tears began to well in your eyes and your throat began to sting. Your breathing quickened until the urge to cry could no longer be held back. You desperately wiped your eyes and nose on your blanket, angry with yourself that you were crying in the first place.

"Hey, baby, what's wrong?" Concerned again, he returned to your side and knelt down next to you to run his hands through your messy hair. "Why are you crying?"

"I don't know, dad! It just happens, okay?"

Bucky jumped back at your sudden outburst, making his way quickly to your door so he could call for reinforcements. He was clearly uncomfortable and you could see it in his mannerisms. "Okay, I'm just gonna go..." he said quietly, resting his hand on the door. "I'll have your Aunt come up and take this one."

~~~

Bucky entered the kitchen to find Steve, Nat, Wanda and Tony preparing to start their day, relieved to see the two women there and hoping that one of them would help.

"Where's (Y/N)?" Steve asked, taking his last drink of coffee, "she'll be late if she doesn't get down here.'

"She's staying home."

Steve's demeanor immediately changed to one of worry, also knowing that you never stay home from school. "What's wrong? Is she sick? Is she okay?"

"She's fine, Steve. She's just having...um, some...girl trouble."

Steve didn't react in the way that Bucky had, or in the way that Bucky had expected. He simply nodded his head and turned to put his dirty cup into the dishwasher, very anticlimactic. "Yeah, I suppose she is at that age now. Does she need anything?"

Bucky just stood in place, staring at him with confusion.

"Buck? Does she need anything?" he asked again, this time waving his hand in front of Bucky's face.

"Why aren't you freaking out about this?"

"Because it was going to happen someday. She's a girl, Buck. She's thirteen."

Bucky shook his head in disbelief that Steve could be so calm about it; he still saw you as a little kid every time he looked at you, and to think that you were becoming a young woman was too much for his mind to accept. "I think she wants Nat to go up there. I didn't come across too well."

Natasha grabbed her juice from the table and began to make her way to your room. She knew that you were probably just fine, and it was even more likely that you weren't the one requesting her visit, but rather her nervous father. She gave Steve a quick wink as she passed, knowing he understood the same.

"If you boys want to make yourselves useful, you can head to the store, I'll text you a survival list."

~~~

"Chocolate covered strawberry ice cream, potato chips, and dill pickles?" Bucky shook his head and worked his way through the aisles in search of everything on the list that Nat had sent.

"Hormones do strange things," Steve sighed, "but I don't think she wants them all at once." He paused for a moment and reconsidered if he were right or not. "I maybe can't be sure about that. Either way, we'll get what she wants."

They continued on and had almost everything on the list, but Bucky came to a halt at the final three items at the bottom. "Um, Steve? I don't know how comfortable I am about this stuff."

Steve grabbed the phone from his hands and gave a small laugh, though his cheeks were turning a slight pink at the thought of what he was being asked to do. He was trying to be an open-minded man and not feel embarrassed, but it was a foreign concept for him to head into the female-specific aisles.

"I'll take care of it, ya big chicken. You go grab the Midol and we can get back."

"Okay, great...wait, what's Midol?"

~~~

Nat had taken it upon herself to stop at her room before coming to yours so she could get back into her pajamas; she planned on spending the day in bed next to you, keeping you comfortable and watching movies like a good Aunt should. Unbeknownst to the two men, she had requested just as many snack items as you had; if she was taking on the role of caretaker, she was going to be fed.

"How is it possible for me to go from laughing, to crying, to angry all within ten minutes? I feel like I'm going crazy."

"Because hormones are stupid, honey. They do make us a little crazy. There's no other way to say it."

"Ladies, can I come in?" Steve waited at the other side of the door, rather than walking in like he would have done only yesterday. Suddenly he felt like it was inappropriate now that things had begun to change.

When you allowed him in, he stopped at the end of your bed and overturned a large bag; multiple brands of multiple products spilled out everywhere and the two of you couldn't help but laugh at him.

"What? What did I do?" He looked at the pile, then at Nat and to you, a look of confusion and surprise on his face. Neither of you were able to answer him through your laughter, and we was beginning to get annoyed. "Well come on! I didn't know what to get for sure, so I kinda picked up one of everything. That way I know I got something in there right!"

"But I sent you a list," Natasha giggled, picking up box after box to show you.

"And I followed the list," he insisted. "this is what you get for not being specific enough." He grabbed a box out of her hand and showed it to you, "this brand was rated highest overall by women who bought them, and this one was the lowest. These over here were the most popular for younger ladies from 13-25, and these were for ladies from 26-40. As far as cost goes..."

You laughed to yourself and covered your eyes in mock frustration, shaking your head, "Dad, seriously," you groaned, "how many times do we have to go over this? You don't have to Google everything."