jason todd, who is bigger than you. it doesn't matter what size you are or how tall you are, he still towers over you and can wrap his arm around your middle and pull you back into him. you can wear heels and platforms and still be shorter than him. it doesn't matter how much you weigh, he can and will toss you around. he canonically has flipped bane over with his legs, broke a talon's arm, neck and leg, and even punched through a submarine hull. every time you bring up your concerns when he lifts you up, he'll dismiss them, saying 'i bench double your weight. i can handle you.'
jason todd, who is the clingiest motherfucker after he gets really comfortable with you. he can only sleep if he has his arms wrapped around you. think of it like a really, really comfortable chokehold. every part of him needs to be touching you. it doesn't matter whether you're lying on top of him or if he's lying on top of you. he hates the feeling of being trapped, but with you, it helps him feel grounded.
jason todd, who has rough hands but always touches you gently. his hands are rough from all the work he does - grappling all over gotham, punching criminals, working on his bike. you could never tell that the same hand that has so many callouses are the same ones who guide you through the crowd, or brushing your hair away from your face, or simply tracing your figure as you lay facing each other because he likes how soft your skin feels compared to his.
jason todd, who is loud with others, but quiet with you. he doesn't feel the need to fill the silence. with others, it feels oppressive, but with you, it's serene. he is content to do his daily chores with you silently, both doing your own things but occupying the same space. he especially likes it when you talk. he loves your tone, cadence, pitch, voice, everything. he'll listen to you talk intently, his hand fixing something as he occasionally nods and lets out a soft 'mmh' so you know he's paying attention.
Summary : The team thinks Bucky has a crush on the towerâs interior designer. They donât know that theyâre already married.
Pairing : New Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Interior designer!reader (she/her)Â
Warnings/tags : Thunderbolts* spoilers!!!!!!! Secret wife trope. Tower fic! Secret-ish baby. Cursing, not-too-detailed descriptions of sex, pregnancy, (Please let me know if I miss anything!!!)
Word count : 6.7kÂ
Requested by : two anons! Based on this and this.
Note : I combined two requests, I hope thatâs alright, anons! Enjoy!
Bucky only stayed at The Watchtower three days a week.
Officially, those days were for debriefings, strategy syncs, mission prep, and what Alexei affectionately called team bonding.
The rest of the week, he goes off-grid and minimal contact, calling it rest and recuperation.Â
He spent those days outside the city, tucked away in a modest, two-story house in the suburbs.Â
The walls were painted in earthy tones. The porch creaked when it rained. The neighbours didnât ask questions. But most importantly, it was where you, the love of his life, resided full time.Â
It was home.
Bucky had closed on the house exactly nine months and fourteen days ago. A week later, heâd married you under a willow tree in the backyard with no fanfare, only Sam, Joaquin, and Isaiah Bradley as guests, and a ring you both picked out from a vintage shop in Brooklyn. Sam had joked that it must have been the best day of his overextended, complicated life.
He was right.Â
Still, not a single member of his newly assembled team had a clue.
They knew Bucky Barnes, the leader of the New Avengers, war-hardened and famously chronically single. They knew the efficient, donât-ask-me-about-my-weekends version of him. They did not know that the same man kissed his wifeâs temple every morning before she left for work, took out the trash without being asked, and spent his evenings slow dancing with you in the kitchen to whatever jazz record was spinning on the old turntable.
That part of him was private.
He didnât keep you a secret out of shame â Bucky showed how much he loved you in the ways that mattered. But with many of his old enemies still out there, keeping you out of the spotlight was non-negotiable.Â
It was especially necessary now that the New Avengers were under public scrutiny, the media hounding them with every move, and Val running ops like a government-sponsored reality show.
But, of course, what he least expected happened.
When Val asked Mel to source a top-tier interior designer for the Watchtowerâs massive renovation, Bucky didnât say anything.
He didnât pull any strings. He didnât say a word.
But of course, Mel found your firm. It was one of the best in town, after all.
Of course, all he could do was stare blankly when Mel casually dropped your name in a team meeting two weeks later. You, whoâd been growing your design firm from the ground up, known for clean lines and warm spaces and zero tolerance for pretentious decor.
And when you told Bucky that youâd accepted the Watchtower job, heâd smiled weakly and said, âWeâll figure it out.â
Which led to this moment.
â
Your first day on the job was a Monday morning.Â
You stepped into the lobby of the newly renamed Watchtower, hard hat hooked on your hip, leather-bound notebook under one arm, and your chewed up pencil behind your ear.
You, as planned, acted completely unfamiliar with the man youâd kissed goodbye at 7 a.m. over toast.
You approached the cluster of Avengers whoâd been haphazardly gathered for your arrival â Ava, John, Yelena, Bob, Alexei, and Bucky. Your husband leaned against a column, arms folded, feigning indifference while silently praying his face didnât give away his precious little secret.
But then your eyes met.
For one fleeting moment, your smile brightened. But you covered it up and offered him a hand like you hadnât fallen asleep his bare chest fourteen hours ago, and said, âNice to meet you. Iâm your interior designer.â
Bucky took your hand.
The handshake lasted two seconds too long.
âJames Barnes,â he said. âPleasure.â
Ava raised an eyebrow.
You let go of his hand, nodded politely, and turned to the others to introduce yourself.Â
Your voice was steady, your posture perfect, but Bucky noticed the way you tapped your thumb against the spine of your notebook â the tiniest nervous habit. He kissed that hand every night.
When you walked off to start your tour, Ava elbowed Bucky in the ribs.
âShe is too pretty. If you donât ask her out, I will.â
âMâ not into her,â Bucky said. It was the worst lie heâd told in years.
âCâmon man,â John chuckled. âThat looked like love at first right.â
Bucky just shrugged and turned away, pretending to be interested in a support beam.
â
Six Weeks Later
You were everywhere.
Literally everywhere inside the Watchtower.Â
You were in hallways, stairwells, and repurposed labs. You were under floorboards to check for old wiring. You were balancing precariously on scaffolding with paint samples in one hand and a clipboard in the other. You had a team, sure, but you were the kind of interior designer who believed that breathing the same dust as your contractors was the only way to truly understand your art.
Within a month, you turned a gutted superhero facility into your battlefield.
And you made it look good.
You had turned bare concrete into well thought out sketches, made a temporary lounge out of broken furniture and vintage rugs, and wrestled the towerâs unmaintained lighting grid into semi-functional compliance. You worked long hours. You cursed openly at bad insulation. You drank your coffee black and your water in gallons, and somewhere along the way, the tower became a passion project, your baby.Â
And the New Avengers grew fond of you.Â
They tried to be subtle about it, watching you from doorways or pausing in their sparring sessions whenever you passed through to say hi.Â
Youâd wave a friendly hi back, before going back to being all-business.
At this point, you and Bucky had practiced your we-just-met act to an Oscar-worthy level. You faked polite smiles, formal greetings, and total lack of familiarity, even when you showered together the night before.Â
But sometimes, it slipped through the cracks.Â
You can help but steal glances at each other â each one lasting just a little too long. His hand would find your lower back when he leaned over your desk to study a blueprint, fingertips brushing that sensitive spot just beneath your shirt hem. Your voice dropped half an octave whenever you addressed him in front of others, slipping in sergeant under your breath like it wasnât a private reference from your bedroom.
Sometimes, youâd pass him in the hallway and murmur things quiet enough only he could hear. A reminder of what youâd do to him the moment he got home. Or what heâd done to you the last time he snuck back to the house for the night. Youâd say it just loud enough to leave him frozen in place for a second â then heâd look like he needed to punch a wall or take a very cold shower to stay professional.
You made it impossible to concentrate.
So Bucky, for all his practiced stoicism and control, was coming undone.
Which was probably why the team started to notice.
Or, more accurately, why John Walker lost his goddamn mind one Tuesday afternoon.
The makeshift common room â still mid-renovation â was still half-furnished, but they made it work. Yelena was scrolling through her phone while Bob napped on a deflated air mattress. Ava cleaned her knives at the dining table that had mismatched chairs. Alexei was rearranging the fridge after someone messed up his system.
Bucky stood near the large window, arms folded, pretending to be interested in the HVAC schematics you were showing to one of your contractors across the room.
You laughed at something the guy said, and Buckyâs eyes twitched in jealousy.Â
That was all it took.
John groaned loud enough to echo off the half-installed acoustic panels. Then, on his last straw, he flopped onto the couch dramatically.
âIf you like her, Barnes, just ask her out already. Jesus,â John said, dragging a hand down his face. âYouâve been eye-fucking her across the hall for a month.â
Bucky just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
âSheâs out of my league,â he said coolly. It was a textbook deflection. âBesides, sheâs not even my type.â
Yelena immediately snorted. âLiar.â
Ava didnât look up from her knives. âLiar.â
Even Bob, barely conscious, mumbled. âLiarrrr.â
Alexei only chuckled.
âWhat is wrong with you?!â John sat up, âYouâre literally, likeâwhat? A hundred and ten years old? You canât still be doing the whole âgirls donât like meâ routine.â
Bucky gave a half-shrug, still not looking away from where you were, now climbing a ladder with a pencil behind your ear.
âSheâs here to work,â he said. âI respect that.â
âAh,â Alexei scoffed. âIs that why you follow her around like Roomba?â
Bucky had no answer to that.
â
One Afternoon
Today had been a long day
It was dusty. It was loud. Contractors bickered, blueprints got smudged, and Bucky had looked unreasonably good doing absolutely nothing â just standing around in that damn new uniform with the red star on his right arm.
You hadnât had more than a couple hours alone where you werenât sleeping or eatingâ not at home, and especially not in the Tower, when at least one other team member would be hovering like a nosy, overgrown child.
So when you saw Bucky slipping into the elevator alone, you called out for him.
âMr. Barnes,â you half-shouted to get his attention, jogging across the hall. âHold the door.â
He pressed the button with his metal hand, glancing up with a fond smile. âDidnât know we were doing last names now,â he said, just above a whisper.
âWould you rather I call you Sergeant?â you replied quietly as you slipped inside, brushing past him just enough to make it intentional.
The doors slid shut.
And then, just as the elevator began its slow descent, you heard a mechanical in the belly of the Watchtower. The lights above flickered onceâthen againâbefore cutting out entirely.
A single red emergency light buzzed to life.
You stumbled slightly, grabbing onto Buckyâs arm instinctively.Â
âWhat was that?â you asked.
âPowerâs off,â he confirmed, chuckling when you jumped, kissing your temple to let you know that it was going to be okay, that the elevator was ventilated well enough for you to survive a long time in there.Â
You slapped the emergency call button, andâŚ. Nothing. Not even a buzz.
You blinked up at the ceiling like divine intervention might come through the grates.Â
âBucky,â you pouted, clutching his arm a little tighter, âdo something.â
âI am doing something,â he said as he crouched down and nudged at the panel, making no real effort. âIt's just not working.â
âWell, pry the door open orâuse your metal arm or something!â
He shot you a dry look over his shoulder. âCanât. This thing was built to withstand the hulk.â
You watched him stand and lean back against the wall like he was settling in. Like⌠he didnât mind this.
âYou have got to be kidding me,â you sighed, âIâve got to meet the people installing wallpaper in ten minutes.â
Bucky folded his arms across his broad chest, his eyes maddeningly calm. âCould be worse,â he offered with a shrug.
âBucky,â you warned, eyes narrowing.
âWhat?â he replied, too innocently, too calmly.
âWeâre technically both on the clock,â you reminded him.
He shrugged. âWeâre also stuck. Sounds like PTO to me.â
You rolled your eyes, but canât help the smile on the corners of your mouth. âYouâre impossible.â
That crooked grin formed on his face. âYouâre tellinâ me you havenât missed me, doll?â
âDonât,â you said, pointing a finger to his chest.
âDonât what?â
âThat voice. That look. You're gonna get us in trouble.â
He pushed off the wall and stepped closer. He was not touching you, but he was near enough that your heart began its traitorous dance, even after all this time. âWeâve barely touched each other. Last time was whatâ four days ago?â
âFour days is not that long,â you said.
He leaned in, lips brushing the shell of your ear. âIt used to be four hours.â
You swallowed hard, but he was not done yet.Â
âUsed to be I couldnât walk past you in our house without stopping to touch you.â
You looked away, heat creeping up your neck.
âUsed to be Iâd wake up with your thighs already wrapped around my face,â his voice dropped an octave lower, âAnd now Iâm lucky if I get a quick kiss before you run off to yell at plumbers.â
âI did give you a kiss this morning,â you looked up at him.
âNot the kind I meant,â he said, eyes glued to your mouth, then back to your eyes.
You choked on a laugh, shoving at his chest weakly. âThatâs very inappropriate, Mr. Barnes.â
âIâm your husband.â He bit your earlobe gently. âAnd Iâm tired of pretending we donât wake up in the same bed.â
âWeâve got⌠responsibilities.â Your fingers were already in his hair. âPeople are counting on us.â
âLet them wait,â he muttered, kissing you slow and deep now, mouth moving with that sinful confidence that made your knees buckle. âYouâve been killing me all week, walking around this place like you donât belong to me.â
âI am yours,â you whispered against his lips, heat coiling in your belly. âBut the camerasââ
âPowerâs off.â He reminded, hand sliding up your thigh, curling behind your knee and hiking your leg around his hip. âYou need this. I know you do.â
âYouâre cocky.â
âIâm right,â he said, kissing you again. This time you kissed him back harder.
Your body gave in before your words did. It always did with him.
And as his fingers slipped past the lace of your underwear and his mouth returned to your neck, you forgot entirely about the elevator, the job, the rules.
You werenât the Watchtowerâs interior designer anymore.
You were just his wife.
And he was very, very good at reminding you why.
Neither of you noticed the faint red light in the ceiling blink back to life. Didnât notice the tiny lens in the far corner of the elevator was still functional.Â
You had no idea Yelena had rigged a backup battery into the surveillance system.
And you definitely didnât know the power outage wasnât an accident.
It was a setup.
â
Later that afternoonÂ
The new Avengers gathered in the security room like kids about to witness an R-rated movie.
And in a way⌠they were.
Yelena had the footage queued up. She sat with arms folded, boots propped up on the console, a smug grin across her face.
This was her idea, after allâ playing matchmaker as a favour to Bucky.Â
âItâs visual-only,â she said, almost too casually. âNo audio. You knowânormal CCTV stuff. But we donât need sound to read body language.â
She hit play.
The plan was simple: trap Bucky Barnes and that absurdly hot interior designer in the Watchtower elevator to see if he finally made a move.
âTen bucks says he doesnât even talk to her,â Ava declared, leaning against the wall.
âI say he kisses her,â Bob offered gently, still half-asleep in sweatpants, rubbing his eyes. âJust a little one. Heâs always so tense, it would be nice to see him⌠be sweet.â
John had brought popcorn like it was a movie premiere. âI want to believe he asked her out,â he said.Â
âToday is the day,â Alexei nodded in agreement, â I can feel it.â
The screen flickered to life.
Bucky stepped into the elevator first, holding the door for you.Â
The doors closed.
Nothing out of the ordinary at first. It looked like normal conversation.
Then the elevator stopped.
You pressed the emergency call button. Nothing.Â
Bucky tried the panel, giving up too quickly.
Yelenaâs grin widened. âShowtime.â
And then, Bucky stepped closer, whispering something into your ears.
âClassic,â John said, leaning in. âHere we go. Here comes the kiss on the cheek.â
The kiss landed on your lips instead.
It was not a peck. To everyoneâs surprise, it was hungry.
The room went deathly silent.
Avaâs arms slowly uncrossed. âOkayâŚ.â
Bobâs mouth parted. âOhâŚâ
Thenâ then came the second kiss.
It was longer.Â
Your hands in his hair. His metal arm was up⌠your skirt?Â
Your back hit the elevator wall.
John sat forward slowly. âWait⌠wait.â
Then, you climbed him.
It got very explicit very quickly.
Johnâs popcorn slid from his lap, forgotten.
Alexei was blinking like heâd witnessed a cult ritual.
Ava whispered, âJesus Christ.â
Bob clutched the arms of his chair. âThatâsâ thatâs not him asking her out on a date.â
âIs theââ Alexei squinted, his voice dry, ââis the camera shaking?â
âNo,â Ava said hoarsely. âThatâs the elevator shaking.â
âFuck,â John gasped. âWe shouldâ we should stop.â
Yelena stared at the screen, frozen. âI didnât mean for this to happen.â
Alexei held up a trembling finger. âHe has not taken her to dinner. There was no courtship. There was no honour.â
Ava turned away from the monitor. âTurn it off. Turn it off!â
Yelena did.
The room plunged into an eerie silence.
Bob was still cross-legged on the floor. âI⌠I think there was a round two. Like⌠halfway through. I think I counted it. Different positions. Less vertical.â
They were all pale now.
Yelena stood up like sheâd survived a car crash. âWe are never speaking of this.â
âDelete the footage,â Ava added. âBurn it. Hack the cloud. Scrub the backups.â
âGone,â Yelena said grimly. âItâs already gone.â
Alexei placed his mug down. âHe has not even taken her out on date yet,â he repeated, horrified.
John slumped back into his chair, stunned âIâll never look at elevators the same way.â
No oneânot one of themâsuspected marriage. No one suspected long-time commitment.
Not even a little.
They thought theyâd witnessed a slip. A one-time break in Barnesâ solitude, a rare show of his desire.
They had no idea he fucked you like that at home every other day.
They just thought Bucky Barnes had the most soul-shattering game any man had ever possessed.
And not a single one of them ever got in that elevator without wincing ever again.
â
Six Weeks Later
It started out like any other off-day in the suburbs.
The early morning was quiet, with pale light spilling across the hardwood floors, the distant hum of a lawn mower down the street, and the smell of Buckyâs burnt-but-endearing attempt at breakfast wafting in from the kitchen.Â
It was supposed to be peaceful.
But you were in the bathroom, staring at the positive pregnancy test with your hands trembling and your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.
Pregnant.
Three times, all different brands.
It wasnât planned, not really. You have been talking about it, and even said youâd give it a go by the end of the year.Â
Hell, you were on even the pill. But the last couple months had been a blurâ long hours at the tower and stress-induced forgetfulness.Â
Somewhere in the chaos of overtime and rushing out the door with a protein bar instead of breakfast, you mustâve slipped up. Maybe once. Maybe twice. Maybe that was enough.
You barely heard your own footsteps as you tiptoed down the hallway in a fog, still holding one of the tests like it might disappear if you blinked. Bucky was at the kitchen counter, humming under his breath, shirtless in his gray sweatpants, a bowl of strawberries in front of him with his dog tags reflecting in the morning sun.
He turned when he heard you come in, and his smile immediately faltered.
He could tell by the look on your face that something was⌠off.
âSweetheart?â His brow furrowed as he stepped toward you, eyes looking over as if scanning for wounds. âAre you okay?â
You tried to say something, but nothing came out. You just looked at him with wide eyes, parted lips, and the test clenched tightly in your hand.Â
His hands gently closed around your arms.
âHey, hey, hey,â he said, his voice a little rough. âBreathe, doll. Tell me whatâs going on. Did something happen?â
You shook your head, lip trembling. âNo. Nothing like that. I just⌠IâŚâ
He ducked his head, trying to catch your eyes. âLook at me,â he said, less demanding but more gentle. âItâs okay. Whatever it is, we can fix it. Just tell me.â
Your breath hitched. You looked down, uncurled your fingers, and held out the test.
Bucky looked at it.
Then up at you.
ââŚWhat is this?â he asked, almost cautiously. Like he needed confirmation.
You opened your mouth, but your voice cracked before it even came out. âI think Iâm pregnant.â
He blinked twice. âYouâreââ
You nodded, tears welling in your eyes. âIâI know. I was on the pill. I swear I was. But with everything going on at the tower and those back-to-back all-nighters and fuck, James, I mustâve messed up, I mustâve missed one or twoââ
âWait. Waitâwait,â he said suddenly. He stepped back just enough to look at you fully, like he needed the whole picture to understand. âYouâre serious?â
You nodded again. âI wouldnâtâI wouldnât joke about this.â
He was completely still, like the words were sinking into him bit by bit.
And then, to your surprise, he let out a shaky breath, laughed a little, and ran a hand through his hair.
âJesus Christ,â he whispered. âYouâre pregnant.â
You looked at him nervously, heart pounding. âIâI mean, itâs early. Like really early. Just a few weeks, I think. We donât have to freak out. We can talk about it. Think about it. We canââ
But he cut you off, stepping forward again and cupping your face in both hands, his thumbs brushing away the tears on your cheeks. His eyes were glistening.
âHey,â he said gently. âIâm not freaking out. Iâm not freaking out. Iâm justâholy shit, baby. Iâ youâre growing a little version of us in there. Weâre doing this... if you⌠if you want this, too.â
You let out a breath you hadnât realised you were holding, your arms wrapping around him instinctively.
âWeâre doing this,â you whispered back, like saying it out loud made it more real. âI⌠I do want this.â
He kissed the top of your head, your temple, your cheek. âWe were headed here anyway. Maybe I didnât know itâd happen now, butâŚâ He leaned back to look at you, eyes full of wonder. âI love you so much.â
You sniffled, laughing through it. âI was so scared.â
âYou donât have to be,â he said, âNever with me.â
There was a long moment where the two of you just held each other, breathing in the warmth of the moment. WhenâŚ
âSo, uh. What do we tell the team?â
You chuckled. âAbout what? The baby or the fact that weâre married?â
He winced. âShit.â
âYeah.â
Bucky wanted to share his joy, he really did.Â
But he still had enemies. The kind who would use anything, anyone, to get to him.
And he would rather die than see your name â and his babyâsâ end up on one of their lists.
âYou still want to keep it quiet?â you asked quietly.
He didnât answer right away. He looked at your stomach, his teeth clenching.Â
âI donât want anyone knowing if it puts you in danger,â he said finally. âI donât care what they think of me. I just want you safe. Our family safe.â
You nodded. âOkay. So... in two or three monthsâ the tower renovationsâll be done by then. I can just wear baggy clothes.â
He gave you a wary look. âYou already wear baggy clothes.â
You shrugged. âIâll wear bigger ones.â
Surely, this was a foolproof plan, right?Â
â
It was successful for all of two weeks. You played your part, showed up to the tower, exchanged the usual small talk with the team, and pretended everything was normal, all while avoiding harmful construction materials and focusing on furnishing.
Then one morning, you looked pale coming out of the toilet, wiping acid from the corner of your mouth with tissue. Bob looked over, eyebrows raised in concern. You waved him off with a smile.Â
âFuck morning sickness,â you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
And that was it. You didnât even think twice. You were too focused on the nausea, the spinning room, the unpleasant taste in your mouth. You didnât realise youâd said it.
Bob didnât clock it right away either. Youâd already left the room by the time the words caught up with him. He was halfway through his coffee, reading a book, whenâ
He froze. His eyes widened.
âWaitâŚâ
Morning sickness?
â
Bob didnât say anything right away.
He sat there for a moment, staring at the spot where youâd stood.Â
Morning sickness, his brain repeated again, louder now.
He stood up so fast his chair rolled back and hit the wall.
Fifteen minutes later, there was a closed-door meeting in Conference Room 7.
Ava, Yelena, Alexei, and John filed in, curious and worriedâit wasnât often that Bob called a we-need-to-talk-right-now meeting that didnât involve a breach or a fire drill.
Bob stood at the head of the table, arms crossed, unreadable.
âSheâs pregnant,â he said flatly.
Everyone blinked.
ââŚWho?â Ava asked, tilting her head.
Bob stared at her. âBuckyâs little elevator secret.â
Yelena raised an eyebrow. âHow⌠How do you know?â
âSheâŚ.â Bob started. âShe said something about morning sickness.â
There was a beat of silence.
âOh,â said Alexei, thoughtfully.
â...Oh,â Ava echoed.
Yelenaâs eyes widened. âOH?â
John straightened up in his chair. âHold on. Do you thinkââ He looked around the room, dropping his voice to a whisper, ââdo you think Bucky could be the dad?â
They all looked at each other. The memory hit them at once like a suppressed group hallucination.
No oneâs talked about it since.Â
Not out of respect, but out of sheer trauma suppression and the fact that, frankly, they werenât paid enough to bring it up.
âI mean,â Ava said slowly, âDid anyone see him with a condom?â
âNot that I can remember,â Yelena shuddered, brow furrowed. âBut I wasnât exactly memorising it.â
âElevator baby,â Alexei whispered, stunned.
Bob just nodded grimly.
Then John, whoâd been thinking too hard, looked up. âDo you think Bucky knows?â
The room went completely silent.
Ava blinked. âShit.â
Yelena exhaled through her nose. âHeâs either going to marry her in a panic or pass out.â
John rubbed his temples. âDo we⌠do we tell him?â
Bob looked down nervously. âBetter questionâwhoâs going to tell him?â
Everyone looked at each other.
No one volunteered.
So they did it together.
â
They confronted Bucky two hours later. In the gym, of all places.
He was mid-rep when they approachedâshirt damp with sweat, and music blaring in his ears. His brows furrowed in concentration as he finished his set and racked the barbell with a clang.
Thatâs when he noticed them.
Five fully-grown adults in a semicircle, watching him. Staring, like it was going to be a goddamn intervention.
He tilted his head. â...who did you kill and where did you bury the body?â
Bob cleared his throat, stepping forward like a nervous HR rep. âUmm, thatâs not why weâre here.â
Bucky pulled out one earbud. âThen whatâs going on?â
âWe need to talk.â
That phrase never meant anything good, and they all knew it. Ava shifted her weight from foot to foot like she had somewhere more pleasant to be (a landmine field, perhaps). John had his arms crossed and was chewing the inside of his cheek. Alexei was trying to look fatherly and failing spectacularly. And Yelenaâoh, Yelenaâwas vibrating with the kind of energy that suggested she either had bad news or gossip so juicy it came with a side of fries.
Bucky glanced at them, suspicious. âOkay⌠what is this? Am I getting voted off the team?â
Yelena stepped forward, and just⌠spat it out. âSheâs pregnant.â
That landed like a punch to the solar plexus. His brain buffered.
Oh shit. Oh shit.Â
They knew. Theyâd figured it out.
How?
He licked his lips, then attempted to play dumb. ââŚ.Who?â
Ava folded her arms. âWe have a feeling,â she started, unimpressed, âyou might be able to figure it out. Considering you had some⌠fun⌠in the elevator a couple months ago.â
Buckyâs eyes twitched.â Iâwhat? Youâre sayingâhow do you even know about that?âÂ
Yelena raised a hand, almost sheepishly. âWe, uh⌠we mightâve set up the elevator failure.â
John immediately smacked the back of her shoulder. âYou. Not we. That was your idea.â
âI said mightâve!â she hissed.
âWhat weâre saying,â Alexei interjected, rubbing a hand down his face like a weary dad at a PTA meeting, âis that there is chance you are going to be dad.â
Bucky tried to laugh. It came out like a goose being strangled. âIâm not ready to move on from the elevator camera. Thatâs a massive violation of privacy. Iâwhat kind of sickââ
âYou did it in public,â Ava interrupted coldly.
âAnd youâre not denying it,â Bob added.
âIâm just saying,â Bucky snapped, pointing wildly, âyou kept it? You still have the tape? Can I see it?â
Everyone groaned in unison.
John pinched the bridge of his nose. âYou might have gotten a hook up pregnant, and the first thing you care about is your sex tape? Seriously?â
Bucky didnât respond, which said a lot.
Bob said plainly, âBut weâre pretty sure you didnât use protection.â
âShe was on the pill!â Bucky snapped.
âYou still donât do hookups bare, Bucky!â Ava exclaimed, voice rising.
âShe hadnât had sex with anyone else in years!â
âAnyone⌠else?â John asked, skeptical.
Bucky opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
And shut up.
Bucky groaned, dragging his hands down his face like he was trying to scrape the stress off his skin.
Then, finally, with a voice so quiet it barely made it through the hum of fluorescent lights, he finally said, âSheâsâŚmy wife.â
A beat passed with silence.
Then Ava shrieked, âIâm sorryâWHAT?!â
âWhen?!â John thundered.
âAbout a year ago,â Bucky admitted. âWe kept it a secret. It wasnât safe for her. I didnât want anyone coming after her because of me.â
Alexei frowned, tone softer now. âAnd nowâŚâ
âNow sheâs having my baby,â Bucky said. His throat bobbed as he swallowed. âAnd I donât know how to protect her from this. From all of this.â
âFuck,â John let out a low whistle. âIs it⌠is it the elevator baby?â
âWe did the math,â Bucky turned beet red, âthere is a⌠pretty good chance thatâs the case.âÂ
âElevator baby,â Yelena echoed, eyes wide.Â
She sounded almost proud.
Bucky looked at each of themâ serious now. âYou canât tell anyone,â he warned, âSheâs⌠sheâs everything to me. If this gets outâif sheâs hurt, if someone uses her to get to meâI wouldnâtâ couldnâtâ live with myself.â
And just like that, gone was the teasing.
They stood there, in a loose circle around him, the lights humming overhead, the scent of sweat in the air. A line crossed, and secrets spilled open. This was a line where their friendship was testedâand affirmed.
John, finally, clapped Bucky on the shoulder. âCongrats, man. Youâre gonna be a dad.â
âElevator dad,â Yelena added.
âDonât,â Bucky warned, but he was smiling, just a little.
â
The shift was subtle at first.
Alexei started carrying things for you.
Youâd walk into a room with a stack of sample boards or fabric swatches for a renovation pitch, and before you could even blink, heâd be at your side, snatching half of them away and saying, âYou should not be lifting this.â
You tilted your head the first time. âI⌠Iâm okay, Alexei.â
He just stared back, deadpan. âDoes not mean you should.â And then walked away before you could argue.
Then there was Ava, who started checking the air quality constantly.
âGotta keep the air pure,â sheâd say, making sure your workstation was well-ventilated from paint fumes.Â
You started to get suspicious after the third can of air purifier she smuggled into the conference room.
And then came John, who strolled past your desk one morning with a coffee in one hand and a brochure in the other. He stopped like he just happened to remember something.
âOh hey,â he said, waving the paper around. âThat new baby store down the street? Massive sale. Car seats, little shoes, those bib things shaped like bandanas? You know, the cool ones. Just⌠figured Iâd pass it along. Yâknow. In case⌠anyone.â
You squinted. âAnyone?â
He coughed. âJust in case anyone⌠likes sales.â
Right.
It wasnât until Yelena hugged you, that the alarm bells started getting harder to ignore.
She pulled away, uncharacteristically gentle, and said, âYouâre good at taking care of things.â
ââŚOkay,â you said cautiously, âAre you dying?â
She just blinked. âNo. I just think you are doing great.â She paused. âAnd you should not wear heels. Theyâre bad for your ankles.â
That was it.
You came home that night, dumped your bag by the door, and found Bucky on the couch eating mac and cheese he probably stole from the tower.Â
He looked up, beaming. âHey, doll. You okay?â
You squinted at him. âDo you know something I donât?â
He tilted his head. âAbout what?â
You flopped next to him, sighing. âYelena hugged me today.â
His eyes widened. ââŚOh.â
âAnd told me Iâm good at taking care of things.â
He was dead silent.
âJohn is talking about baby boutiques to me. Ava keeps purifying the air. And Iâm pretty sure Bob gave me vitamin water.â
Bucky looked down.
You gave him a pointed look. âSo, Iâm just gonna ask: Did you tell them?â
He winced. His whole face did the oh-no-donât-be-mad-at-me scrunch.
âUmmâŚâ he said.
âOh my god.â
âIâI didnât tell them, technically,â he started, clearly floundering. âThey figured it out! Bob overheard something, and then there was a meeting, and I got cornered at the gym and they were all standing in a circle like some kind of intervention and they were like âwe know,â and I panicked and I didnât want to lie andââ
âBucky.â
He stopped, biting his lip.
âIâm not mad,â you said, cutting him off before the ramble could spiral into an apology monologue. âIâm⌠relieved.â
His brow furrowed. âYou are?â
You nodded. âDo you know how exhausting it is trying to hide a whole human and pretend Iâm not in love with you?â
âI just wanted you to be safe.â He looked down, a little guilty. âI thought if they didnât know, thereâd be less risk.â
âI know,â you murmured, reaching over to take his hand. âBut honeyâŚÂ theyâre not strangers. Theyâre your people. Our people, now.â
He smiled, fingers threading through yours. âYelena did threaten to murder anyone who so much as looked at you wrong.â
âSee?â You leaned in, kissing his cheek. âThatâs the kind of prenatal care Iâm talking about.â
He chuckled, pulling you close, one hand resting gently against your stomach. âWeâll still keep it quiet outside the tower. For safety.â
âOf course,â you said. âBut at least I donât have to hide there.â
Then Bucky said, âAlso⌠Bob wants to throw you a secret baby shower. In the hangar. With⌠themed cupcakes.â
â
Eight Months Later
Jamie was six weeks old the first time you brought him to the Watchtower.
He was bundled up in a little blue onesie with a cartoon white wolf on the chest, swaddled like a burrito in a cotton blanket, and blissfully asleep in your arms.
The 87th floor had been converted for the three of youâ a secure residential wing with baby gates and blackout curtains and a surprisingly tasteful wallpaper Bucky picked himself. You were here to check it out, and also introduce your baby to the team.
Most days, you would stay at the house in the suburbs, where birds chirped and neighbors waved and no one could hear Bucky singing lullabies off-key at 2 a.m. But it was nice to know you had a home in the Watchtower.
You barely stepped in the common room when the team got up.
âIs that him?â Ava whispered like she was approaching royalty.
âDonât crowd the baby,â Bucky said, holding out an arm protectively.
John peered over Avaâs shoulder. âHe looks like a tiny Bucky. But like, angrier. Is that even possible?â
Jamie yawned.
Yelena, unusually soft-voiced, leaned in âLook at him. So small. So squishy. Like a baby potato with many opinions.â
âHe does look judgmental,â Bob offered.
âHe is judgmental,â you smiled.
â
There were a couple more visits after that before your first official night at the tower.Â
Theyâd been asking for weeks to hold him now.Â
Every visit, every mission debrief, every team meeting that you attended with Jamie snoozing in a carrier strapped to your chest, someone would inevitably ask:
âCan I hold him?â
The answer had always been not yet.
Not until he had more of an immune system than a fruit fly.
Especially not until Bob stopped referring to his hands as âclean-ish.â
But today, Jamie was twelve weeks old.Â
Today was the day.
You warned them ahead of time, sending them a group text. Bucky enforced it like a drill sergeant, passing non-alcohol hand sanitiser around like communion.
The baby was clean. The adults were clean. The air smelled faintly of lemon.
Yelena was first, practically vibrating as she took Jamie into her arms like a sacred artifact.
âBozhe moi,â she whispered, eyes wide.Â
âHeâs real,â Bob said, as Jamie curled his arm around his finger, âwe can touch him.â
Then John took a turn, cradling Jamie like he was made of glass. Bucky, perhaps knowing he had some experience and was trying to make amends with his own son, trusted him most. âHeâs so⌠light.â
Eventually, one by one, everyone got their turn.
And then⌠Alexei.
He stepped forward quietly, hands extended, palms open and ready. There was a certain fondness in his eyes.
You gently handed Jamie over, and Alexei took him with a grace that didnât match his usual bull-in-a-china-shop aesthetic. He rocked him slightly and began saying something soft in Russian. It sounded like a lullaby.
Jamie adorably blinked up at him.
And then, with the seriousness of a priest delivering a sermon, Alexei slowly walked across the room⌠and stopped in front of the elevator.
âLittle Jamie,â he said in a soothing voice, still swaying, âthis, my sweet little cherub, is where you were conceived.â
âDad!â Yelena whisper-shouted, her hands in the air. âStop!â
âIâm just telling him the truth!â Alexei protested.
âHeâs a baby!â Ava barked.Â
âHe needs context!â
âHE NEEDS A NAP!â John insisted.
Alexei looked down at Jamie, who stared back, completely unbothered.
âI think he gets it,â Alexei said, beaming.
Jamie sneezed.
Bucky buried his face in your shoulder. âI canât believe we let him hold the baby.â
You, already laughing, said, âAt least he didnât point out the exact panel of the wall.â
Alexei turned around, lifting Jamie like Simba. âAnd over here, by button 13, thatâs where your fatherâs ass wasââ
âOH MY GOD,â Yelena wailed, launching a pillow at him.
Bob hastily caught it. âWe shouldnât throw things when the baby is airborne.â
John held out his arms. âGive him back before you scare him with a detailed retelling.âÂ
Alexei sighed, but passed Jamie over. âYou are going to be great warrior like your father, Jamie.â
You settled onto the couch beside Bucky, your body relaxing as you leaned into him. He pressed a kiss to your temple, then let his lips linger in your hair. He never failed to remind you that you were safe. That Jamie was safe.
Your eyes drifted across the roomâ your strange, chaotic, beautiful little makeshift family in a room that was a labour of your love. Bob was wiping down a clean countertop for the third time. Ava and Yelena were mid-argument about the correct way to swaddle a baby, neither remotely qualified but equally committed.Â
Jamie, unfazed by the commotion, cooed contentedly in Johnâs arms, his tiny fingers reaching for the manâs bead as Alexei kept talking to him in russian.
Your heart felt like it might burst.
He had your nose, Buckyâs eyes, and all the love in the world.
In the background, Alexeiâs voice rose again, brimming with mischief. âNext time, Iâll show him the armoury.â
âNO!â came the instant chorus from everyone in the room.
You couldnât help it, so you laughed.
Jamie was loved. Fiercely, ridiculously loved.
And there wasnât a person in this room who wouldnât burn the world down for him.
building legos with JASON TODD âĄ
specifically the batmobile
âjason... that is not how it's supposed to go.â
âi've been in the real damn thing before, i'm pretty sure i'd know which pieces go together.â
âwell clearly, you do not.â you mutter, your expression pinched with mild annoyance as you try to break apart two extremely rude lego pieces that just refuse to cooperate.
noticing your struggle, jason takes them and separates them effortlessly and easy, as if he's opening some pickle jar.
âleave the job to the professionals, babe.â he teases, the corners of his mouth turning into an obnoxiously handsome and boyish grin. you stare unamused.
âi am going to purposely leave a lego out so you step on it.â
âwow. now that is cruel.â
âi know.â you sigh theatricality, as if it pains you to make such a threat. âi truly am a sweet girl, don't make me resort to such tactics.â
a fraction of a laugh escapes his throat. âi didn't even do nothinâ wrong.â
âuhm, yes you did. you were being stubborn.â
he hummed, not convincingly agreeing with you. âright. how will i ever make it up to you, doll?â
you pretend to think for a long moment, âa kiss will do.â
he didnât waste a single second before kissing you, his scent immediately mingling with your senses, like the moon flirting with the stars, dazzling the sky.
eventually, he pulled away, but he continued to linger, his nose gently brushing up against yours, promising another kiss later.
Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Pregnant!Female Reader
Summary: Bucky is determined to not let the kitchen sink defeat him.
Word Count: Over 2k
Warnings: Established relationship, pregnancy, swearing, implied smut, fluff, feels, domestic life, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Another new AU? Why not? Inspired by a wonderful nonnie. And thanks @targaryenvampireslayer for letting me discuss this. â¤ď¸ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
It was a peaceful day for Bucky. Well, it was supposed to be a peaceful day. He shouldâve been snuggled up with you on the couch, reading a book or watching a movie. He couldâve taken a ride on his bike, or gone to that bakery you love to surprise you with something sweet. Instead of doing any of those things, he was stuck under the kitchen sink that suddenly decided to stop running hot water. Â
Heaving a heavy sigh, he mentally reviewed the list of things he had checked: the shut-off valve, a possible leaking hot water line, and the aerator for blockages. No such luck. He hoped it wasnât a water heater issue. That was the last thing you needed to deal with. Â
He grunted and reached for the wrench, not understanding what the problem was. He was handy, and had fixed everything around the house. So far he patched holes in drywall, replaced windows, repaired the roof, and remodeled the kitchen, to name a few. Sam could vouch for his skills since he fixed things on the boat. Surely he could repair this. Â
Or it might be the thing to finally defeat him.
âFuck that,â he muttered, gripping the wrench so tight he nearly bent it.
The former brainwashed assassin had faced worse: superpowered enemies, a world war, experimentation, losing a limb, brainwashing, torture, PTSD, and more. For Christ's sake, he was dusted by Thanos. He refused to let a kitchen sink defeat him, especially since he had promised you he'd fix it, and he always kept his promises to you.
Bucky stared down the pipe with a withering death stare. Why the fuck wasnât the hot water running? âIâm not going to let you break me, you piece of shit.â
âBucky?â
As he crawled out from under the sink, his gaze softened at the sight of you. Your bare feet gently padded across the floor as you moved toward him, a tender smile on your face and a hand on your belly. He hadnât grasped what pregnancy glow was until you became pregnant with his child. It was like a soft ray of sunlight that glowed through you and touched everything within its reach. It was beautiful, just like you.
Sunshine to his moonbeam.
âHey, sweetheart,â he rasped, still in awe of your beauty.
You ducked your head and smiled to yourself, something you had done from the first time he called you that term of endearment. âSink still giving you trouble?â you asked, keeping your tone light since you knew it was a sore subject. With a clench of his jaw, he nodded. âMaybe we should-â
He cut you off with a point of his finger and saw you struggling not to smile. âDo not suggest a plumber.â
He felt his resolve begin to crack when you batted your eyes. He couldn't resist that look, which always got you what you wanted, but he couldnât bend on this. âWe don't have to call a plumber, but it might not be a bad idea to have someone take a look.â Buckyâs lip curled in a snarl, but you just smiled. âI don't mind.â
âI mind because I said I can fix this and I will. I promised you that,â he argued.
It was irrational for him to feel jealous at the thought of someone else fixing the sink, but he didnât want you depending on someone else to fix stuff around the home you made together. If he couldn't take care of your home, it meant he couldn't take care of you, which he would always do. Just as you took care of him, being partners meant you relied on each other.
Additionally, the idea of another man checking you out, which he knew would happen because you were stunning, both infuriated him and filled him with pride, as he didn't want anyone else to admire your beauty, but was happy to call you his own.
You shook your head after a moment, as if you read his mind. âOkay, He-Man. We donât have to call anyone.â
âThank you.â He smiled, but then sat up abruptly, his heart racing in alarm as he was about to go back under the sink. âWait, why aren't you lying down?â
Fatigue hit you out of nowhere earlier, and you went to rest, which he felt a pang of guilt for. It was a common symptom in pregnancies, but he couldnât help but wonder if any of the serum would pass on to his kids or what it would do to your body. But you didnât complain, didnât show any signs of worry. He may be a super soldier, but you were the one with the strength.
âIâm fine,â you assured him before a sheepish smile crossed your face. âExcept I'm a little hungry.â
He chuckled and sat up to wipe his hands, relieved that there was nothing wrong. He couldnât help feeling protective. âYou or the baby, sweetheart?âÂ
Rubbing a hand over your stomach, you giggled. The sound wrapped around him like a warm hug and urged him to exhale his frustration. âI think weâre both hungry. Something sweet and salty.â
He crawled on his hands and knees, making you giggle again, until he reached you and sat back on his heels. Pulling you close by your hips, he pressed a gentle kiss to your stomach and smiled. âHey, sprout,â he whispered.Â
A blossoming life was growing within you like a sprout.
âSprout loves your voice,â you whispered, running a hand through his hair as he closed his eyes.
Bucky hoped so. He read books to your belly and sometimes talked when you had fallen asleep, telling stories of his past and how excited and nervous he was for the future. He also talked about how amazing you were, how he was lucky to have you as a wife and how lucky theyâd be to have you as a mother.
Despite everything life had thrown at him, he got a family, a dream come true he had tried not to hope for.
âWell, Iâm glad our little sprout hasnât heard me swearing today,â he joked, kissing your stomach again. âThat kitchen sink is trying to get the better of me, but I wonât let it.â
âYour father is a stubborn man,â you smiled, clutching Buckyâs head to you as he rested it on your belly.
âAnd your mother is a stubborn woman, donât let her fool you. She also suggested calling a plumber, which Iâm against,â he said, keeping a hand beside his head. âGive me a kick if you think I can fix it myself.â
âBucky, we-â
Both of you gasped when your baby kicked where Buckyâs palm rested. He stared up at you with wide and happy eyes, his heart swelling in his chest. âD⌠Did you feel that?â he whispered.
âI did,â you smiled, your eyes shining with unshed tears. Your baby kicked, and it was one of the most incredible things he had ever felt.Â
He let out a slow breath. For years, he was forced to fight. The war, HYDRA, and everything that followed. No one ever really asked what he wanted. At the end of the day, it all came down to this: building a home with a loving family.
As he knelt there, you smiled down at him, feeling your baby move, and he realized he'd do it all over again for this moment.Â
âHelp me get a snack, and then you can finish fixing the sink,â you suggested.
âAnd no plumber?â he smiled, more determined to keep his promise to you, since your baby believed he could do it.
âNo plumber,â you promised with a sly smile. âUnless you want to pretend to be a plumber and help me clear out my pipes.â
His nose crinkled when he laughed. âEarmuffs, sprout. You donât need to hear those things your Mama is saying.â
âMe?!â He chuckled when your voice went up an octave. âWhat about all the dirty things you say? Like this morning when I woke up to you doing that thing with your tongue and-â
Bucky suddenly stood up and silenced you with a deep, sensual kiss that would send your hormones into overdrive. As he pulled away from your lips, he was met with your shuddering breath, and he trailed soft kisses along your face. âNow, sweetheart, we both know you seduced me in your sleep, and I couldnât resist having a taste.â
How could he ever resist you?
âI seduced you in my sleep, huh?â you asked with love shining in your eyes. His eyes reflected the same. âYouâre lucky I love you.â
âI love you, too,â he whispered, giving your ass a gentle pat and smirking when you gasped. âNow sit tight while I get us a snack and finish fixing the sink. You said something sweet and salty, right?â
âRight,â you nodded.
âPeanut butter pretzels?â he suggested, hoping he was right. Heâd hate to see your face fall if he guessed the craving incorrectly.
When your face lit up, he breathed a sigh of relief, especially since he had just stocked up. âYes, please.â Guiding you to the island stool, he felt your eyes on him as he moved around the kitchen. âThank you.â
âNothing to thank me for,â he said, setting a filled up bowl in front of you. He didnât care if it was the middle of the night. If you were hungry, he would get you something or go out to find what you wanted.
âNo, I mean, thank you for⌠everything.â He stopped when your eyes welled up, his heart aching at the sight. âGod, these hormones,â you teased, wiping away tears as they spilled over.
âHey,â he whispered, turning you on the stool, and gently framed your face to wipe away the remaining tears. Your hormones made you cry at the drop of a hat, and he was thankful that you allowed him to comfort you whenever that happened. âI should be thanking you.â
Bucky had found love and a family thanks to you, which filled his heart to the point of overflowing. He had purpose, and he was still a hero. He had a life he wanted, one worth fighting for. To him, it meant everything and more.
âYou do thank me. Every single day,â you reminded him, bringing your hand up to trace his wedding band.Â
âDoes that mean I get a reward after I fix the sink?â he asked, wiggling his eyebrows before you smacked his arm. âWorth a shot.â
âTell you what,â you smirked, picking up one of the peanut butter pretzels. âIf you get the sink fixed before I finish this bowl, Iâll reward you.â
When you popped the treat into your mouth with a hum and licked your lips, he bit back a groan. âAnd if I donât?â he asked, determined not to lose.Â
You shrugged and inspected the next piece. âThen you donât get a taste of me for a whole week.â
He gawked at you. Withholding that delicious nectar between your thighs from him for a whole week? That was cruel and unusual punishment.
âListen. I know you can fix it and our baby knows you can fix it, too,â you said, nodding to the sink. âSo get to work because Iâm hungry.â
He kissed you for luck, tasting the sweet and salty snack on your lips. âYouâre on, sweetheart,â he said, winking and rushing back to the sink as you watched.Â
âDomesticity is really sexy on you.â
He winked again. âDonât I know it.â
It turned out that your belief in him, along with your babyâs and the promise of a reward, provided the exact motivation he needed to fix the sink. Just as he had kept his promise to you, you kept yours and rewarded him right there in the kitchen. After carrying you back to the couch, ignoring your protests about your weight, he felt lucky once again to have such an incredible wife and mother of his child.Â
And if he was really lucky, you two would have more than one.
What other domestic things do we want to see Bucky get up to? Love and thanks for reading! â¤ď¸
JKR seems to have wanted Lily Evans Potter to be completely pure and perfect, with no moral ambiguity whatsoever. Lily is really put on a pedestal by the whole narrative with her sacrifice.
But I think her character could've been more complex if it was revealed that in her desperation to protect her son when she learned Voldemort was hunting him, she started researching secrets of dark magic to find a way to block Harry from the Killing Curse. Harry becoming a Horcrux could be explained as a possible side effect of whatever magic Lily used when Voldemort arrived.
Perhaps his sudden arrival made her cast the mysterious dark protection spell on Harry in a panic and caused her to mess it up so that it would blast a piece of Voldemort's soul out of his body while shielding Harry.
Or, being so unfamiliar with the Dark Arts, she simply didn't realize that the consequence of the protection spell would be blasting a piece of the would-be killer's soul out of their body; the spell could be similar in nature to the Horcrux-creating spell that Voldemort intentionally used on Nagini, the diary, the ring, the locket, the cup, and the diadem.
This would add dimension to Harry's feelings toward his mother; it's technically her fault that he's a Horcrux, and yet it's also thanks to her that his life was saved that night.
This would also provide a more concrete reason for his survival, rather than just "the power of love," and the spell would be so unknown and mysterious that it would be more of a reason for his survival to be so unprecedented. âThe power of loveâ could still be Dumbledoreâs initial child-friendly explanation to Harry, but the later books couldâve revealed a far more complex truth.