fox or Dee, they/her, late 20’s, queer & rocking an audhd brain - occasional fanfic + imagines writer creating stories about my favourite characters
not free until we’re all free ♥️
follow (& turn on notifs for) @foxsficlibrary to get my fics w/out other fandom content.
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recent works:
indelible - bau agent!reader (no pairing)
he takes care of you during your period - brett richards x gn!reader
the first time you squirt - jack abbot x reader
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parker is the one instantly interested in nate's ability to see the big picture. in the first ten minutes of the Nigerian job nate tells her how he knows the guards aren't at their station and she goes "I would've missed that." then at the end of the episode, she's the one that she's good at one thing, but he knows other things. she's always learning things from the others in a way no one else is. sometimes crime things, sometimes real life/social things, sometimes both. eliot teaches her to fight, sophie teaches her to grift, she doesn't hack, but she handles tech better than anyone but hardison. (eliot teaches her to like things, sophie teaches her how to have/be a friend, hardison teaches her to trust) she runs her own jobs, on her own, where the rest of the team never does. at first it doesn't work (the inside job) but then it does ( the broken wing job). obviously we see nate actually pull her into the planning in the long goodbye job in preparation for the ending, but she's been interested in learning from him, learning how to do what he does, since the very start. at first I think it was out of her self-preservation mindset, she didn't expect to have people to back her up, maybe ever. but even after she figures out they're sticking around, she won't have to run jobs alone, she keeps learning. from nate, from sophie, from eliot, from hardison, even tara. eventually, from harry. because of harry, from breanna. she accepts their input in a way nate never did, in a way nate never could. his "sicko love of control" wouldn't let him. but from the start, parker lets them teach her. and that carries over in the way she leads. she controls herself, never them. she makes the final call, but she wants input first. not because she can't make the decision herself, but because she sees the big picture in a different way than nate. she's watched the team save each other's skin over and over because one person noticed or knew something no one else did, and she knows she isn't always that person. they all grow so much in those first five years, and I don't know if I even think parker grew the most. but I do think she grew the most intentionally. she looked at all the others, saw what skills they had that she didn't, and decided she would learn.
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Riding fwb!Bucky Barnes when you let an "i love you," slip out in the middle of a ramble of praises.
You freeze, expecting an immediate negative reaction from the man, but all he does is start thrusting up into you with a smile on his face. "Come on, baby, don't stop. Say that again for me."
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f/o who hears you call yourself ugly and has you on their cock facing a mirror and making you at how pretty you are teased out and drooling as they fuck you
reader who is a huge cuddle bug but is constantly shy to ask bucky if he wants to cuddle with her. and bucky who, every single time, just melts when she stumbles through asking him for cuddles.
You’ve been thinking about it for the past ten minutes.
Well, thinking about it, circling it, building it up into something much bigger than it actually is. Because it’s just cuddling. Just asking your boyfriend if he wants to hold you for a little while. That’s normal. People do that all the time.
But your brain doesn’t really care about “normal.”
Your fingers twist in the hem of your sleeve as you sit on the couch, angled just slightly toward him. Bucky’s sprawled beside you, long legs stretched out, one arm hooked over the back of the couch like he owns the space without even trying. There’s a quiet movie playing on the TV, something neither of you are really paying attention to. His attention keeps drifting back to you anyway—little glances, soft and curious.
You notice every single one of them.
You always do.
Your knee bumps his accidentally and your heart jumps like you’ve done something wrong. He doesn’t pull away, though. If anything, his leg shifts just a little closer, pressing more firmly against yours.
God.
You swallow.
“Buck?” you try, and immediately want to hide.
His head turns toward you instantly. “Yeah, doll?” His voice is soft, warm in that way that always makes your chest feel too tight.
You open your mouth.
Nothing comes out.
Because suddenly the words feel embarrassing. Too needy. Too much. What if he doesn’t want to? What if he’s comfortable like this and you mess it up? What if—
You shake your head quickly. “Nothing. Sorry.”
You turn your attention back to the TV like you didn’t just implode right next to him.
There’s a beat of silence.
Then, quieter, closer—“Hey.”
His hand finds your wrist. Not grabbing, not forcing. Just there. Thumb brushing gently over your pulse like he’s checking in.
“You sure?” he asks.
You nod too fast. “Mhm.”
Another pause.
His thumb keeps moving.
“Because,” he says slowly, like he’s choosing his words with care, “you’ve been fidgeting for the last ten minutes. And you keep lookin’ at me like you’ve got somethin’ to say.”
Your face burns.
“I—no, I haven’t.”
Bucky huffs out a quiet, amused breath; eyes twinkling in fondness.
“Doll.”
And that’s it. That one word, all warm and coaxing, and you crumble.
“I just—” you start, and your voice immediately gets smaller. “I was just wondering if, um—if you maybe wanted to—like, if you’re not busy or anything—”
His brows pull together, not in frustration, just confusion. “Not busy,” he repeats gently.
“Right, yeah, I know, I just mean—if you didn’t want to, that’s totally fine, I just—”
“Hey.” His hand slides up from your wrist to your arm, grounding. “Slow down. What’re you askin’ me, sweetheart?”
Sweetheart.
You might actually pass away.
You take a breath, staring determinedly at a spot on the couch instead of at him.
“Can we… cuddle?” you mumble, so quiet it barely counts as sound. “Just for a little bit. If that’s okay.”
Silence.
Oh God.
You knew it. You knew you shouldn’t have asked. You start to pull back, already preparing to laugh it off, to say you didn’t mean it, to pretend—
“Oh.”
It’s soft. Almost breathless.
You risk a glance up.
Bucky looks like you just handed him something precious.
His expression has completely melted. There’s no other word for it. The sharp lines of his face have gone soft, eyes wide and warm and a little bit awed, like he can’t believe you just asked him that.
“Yeah,” he says immediately. Then, a little stronger, like he needs to make sure you hear him properly, “Yeah, of course we can.”
Your shoulders loosen just a fraction. “Really?”
“Really?” he echoes, almost incredulous. “Doll, you never gotta ask like it’s a big favor.”
“I just didn’t wanna bother you,” you admit, voice small again.
That does something to him.
You see it, the way his jaw tightens just slightly.
“You could never bother me,” he says, quiet but firm.
Before you can overthink it again, he’s already moving.
His arm drops from the back of the couch, sliding around your shoulders, guiding you gently into him. Like he’s giving you every chance to change your mind, even though you never would.
You go easily, curling into his side.
And the second you settle against him, it’s like something in him gives.
He exhales, long and slow, like he’s been holding that breath all day. His arm tightens around you, pulling you closer until you’re practically draped over him. His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, pressing you into his chest.
“There we go,” he murmurs, more to himself than anything.
You can hear his heartbeat. Feel it under your cheek—steady, strong.
Safe.
Your hand curls against his shirt, bunching the fabric lightly as you relax into him. The earlier nerves start to fade, replaced by something warm and soft that spreads through your chest.
“You okay?” he asks after a moment, voice low.
“Mhm,” you hum. “Sorry I made it weird.”
He lets out a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating through you.
“You didn’t make it weird,” he says. “You made my day.”
You tilt your head just enough to look up at him. “I did?”
“Yeah.” His thumb starts tracing slow, absent circles against your arm. “You askin’ for this? Means you want me close.” A small pause. “I like that.”
Your face heats again, but it’s softer this time. Less panic, more… something shy and happy.
“I always want you close,” you admit.
That completely ruins him.
You feel it in the way his hold on you tightens, not enough to hurt, just enough to keep you there. Like he’s not letting go anytime soon.
“Then c’mere whenever you want,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “Don’t make yourself nervous over it, alright?”
You nod against his chest.
“Okay.”
His fingers drift through your hair, slow and careful, and the movie continues playing in the background, forgotten.
You stay tucked against him, warm and quiet, listening to his heartbeat.
it's 3am and you've gotten up to pee when you notice that your husband pope cody is not in his usual spot next to you in the bed.
you turn on the lamp next to your bed, wake yourself up a bit, and then head out into the hallway to find where your husband has ended up, and that's when you see him.
he's taken a chair from your dining room table and set it up outside of your daughter's door. he's sitting with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture straight, and once he notices you in the hallway he moves his gaze up to you.
"andrew?" you question, "what are you doing?"
"she's been having trouble sleeping," is all he says to explain what he's doing. he's not wrong, the past couple of nights your daughter has inevitably ended up in your bed. you've woken up in the middle of the night due to her cold feet pressing into your legs as she shuffles in between you and pope.
when you ask her in the morning she'll tell you that she had a bad dream, and you don't think the way the light from her window casts a shadow on her closet door helps either.
"so you're going to sit here all night?" you ask.
"i wasn't going to sleep anyway," he says, "i'm here if she needs me." you walk closer to him and run your hands through his hair, taking a second to admire your husband and his heart full of so much love.
"do you need anything?" you ask, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead. "i can get you a blanket? a snack?"
"i'm fine," he says, but you disappear down the hallway and towards your living room anyway. when you return, you have a blanket in your hand.
"i could've gotten that myself."
"i know," you put the blanket in his lap. you know he's too stubborn to let you do things for him, but that doesn't stop you from doing them.
"i'll be in bed if you need me," you leave him with a kiss and head back to your bedroom.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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kinktober 2026 is basically just going to be me finding as many ways to talk about how Bucky Barnes definitely gives you a belly bulge and gets increasingly condescending about it  🍆
