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[regressionicons]

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[agerefandomstuff]

HI! i LOVED the fic you made abt the babyspace reader (finding comfort in your role) and i was wondering...could we PLEASE 🙏 get a pt 2? Your awesome, ☮️!

Sorry I disappeared for a bit. I started writing this as soon as you sent it but then life happened. I finished it tonight <3 I hope you enjoy!

Title: Finding Comfort in Your Role. Part 2

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

Word Count: 3990

Description: Sam and Dean came back to the motel to find you regressed. Sam got some one-on-one with you while Dean got sent to the store. Now they have to get you into a diaper. Which… is easier said than done.

Cw: cussing

Dean came back into the motel attempting to balance an ungodly amount of grocery bags in his arms and boxes of diapers obscuring his view. He gave a knock–well… kick– to the door out of courtesy, also maybe because he nearly dropped everything trying to reach for the handle. He was shocked when Sam opened the door with you back on his hip, a big smile on both your faces although Sam’s was directed just at you.

“Who is it, hon? Is that Dean with all your supplies?” he gasped softly and acted surprised as he opened the door further for Dean which made you giggle and reach out towards the mountain of baby items.

“Hey… kiddo–? Wait wait don't touch–!” Dean awkwardly started to greet only to panic as you touched a box causing him to lose the perfectly…awful balance of items he had. Everything came crashing down, toys bounced into the room and boxes of diapers crashed down onto his foot while he tried to catch anything only to fail spectacularly. “That… damn it.”

It took a second for you to decide whether you were supposed to be upset or not, turning to look at Sam with a worried expression which melted away seeing him crack up at his brother’s clumsiness. Relieved you weren't in trouble, you giggled along with him and Dean gave you two an unimpressed look that only lasted a few seconds before he had a small smile on his face as well. He couldn't help it. As much as it annoyed him that it was at his expense he also loved seeing you two happy.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up… little shits.” he grumbled as he began to pick things up hoping to hide his smile a bit and play into his hardass role, although he wasn't fooling anyone.

“Hand me a box so I can get one on the baby then I'll help you pick up your mess.” Sam held his hand out with a little snicker but Dean looked at him slightly offended.

“You don’t know how to change a diaper. I’ll have this all cleaned up before you even figure out how to unfold it and there’ll be a puddle on–” He glanced inside, noticing the towel set up on his bed. He shot up, dropping everything he’d just picked back up and pointed to the towel accusingly. “Is there pee on my bed?! If there’s pee on my bed we’re switching! I am NOT sleeping in YOUR kid’s pee stain!”

“No! There's no– Dean! We’re not switching! We already chose our beds!”

“That was before the baby pee!”

“There’s no pee!”

“I don't trust you. Lift the towel.”

Sam scoffed, “You lift the towel.”

“I’m not touching pee!”

“It’s completely dry!!”

“Then why won't you touch it?” Dean eyed him, not looking at you whatsoever despite how you were kind of the cause of this argument.

Truth was Sam knew the towel was dry. If it hadn't been he wouldn't have lugged you back onto his hip to open the door but as a sibling it was in his nature to argue with Dean and freak him out. It was fun. Plus it was making you giggle.

“Oh my god I'll help you pick things up, Dean, just stop being so dramatic.” He answered, instead acting like this had all stemmed from the mess instead of something he was definitely the cause of. Dean opened his mouth to argue more but with one more glance to the suspicious towel then the mess on the ground he gave up with a little grumble, deciding to just take advantage of the help. Afterall.. He bought way too much and it made a big mess…

Sam laid you back down on the towel, handing you a little stuffed animal that had landed near the bed, hoping it would distract you for the minute they were busy. Which, sure enough, it did. You happily squeaked and babbled to the stuffie while the boys got to work picking up items and setting them on the table in the room, Sam occasionally scoffing at Dean’s purchases.

“You really think we need this many boxes of diapers?”

“I didn't know what size to get or how many we’d have to change.”

“And what about the.. What even are these?”

“Well.. they’re.. baby supplements. Like.. vitamins, I think. Lisa’s friends would– just shut up and keep picking stuff up! Just be thankful I went and stocked up for you and your kid. That makes me a great uncle! Or– uh something.” Sam pauses to look at Dean with raised eyebrows, surprised by his ‘uncle’ comment. But right as he opened his mouth to make a smart reply Dean, who looked a bit flustered, struggled to even hold his gaze and cut him off with a defensive mumble. “Whatever. Shut up.”

Sam smirked, entertained by his brother’s embarrassment but also pleased he clearly wasn’t disturbed by his relationship with you. Even if Sam would tell you otherwise, he would always have that worry in the back of his mind that Dean might not approve of this dynamic but… Dean wasn't always a man great with his words, instead showing his true feelings through his actions. Which if his current actions were anything to go by… then a weight had been lifted off Sam’s mind, reassuring him again that being your caregiver was definitely something he enjoyed and wanted to be as long as you'd have him.

“Is that all of it?” Sam asked, glancing around the room once more and peeking out into the hallway to make sure they'd gotten it all before shutting the door and locking it.

“Yeah I think so.” Dean pried open a diaper box and tugged one of the fluffy purple diapers out, setting it beside you along with wipes and some baby powder. He smiled down at you for a brief second, watching how you chewed on the toy and played with it just like a baby would.

“Purple? There weren't any plain white ones?” Sam asked as he walked over, checking out the changing set up and pulling him out of the little moment he had with you.

Sam lightly ran his fingers over your legs and stretched them out over the bed thinking it would make the change easier than if you had them tucked up by your chest.

Dean cleared his throat hoping it would take some of the awkwardness away and batted your caregiver’s hands away, letting you bend and stretch your legs as you wanted. “I got white ones too. I got a variety.”

“Course you did.” Sam reached down for your legs again after Dean batted them away assuming Dean didn't mean to stop him from helping or that perhaps he’d done it because he had assumed Sam wouldn't want to do it. But he did want to help. You were his baby and he needed to learn this so he was going to have a part in this even if it was just something as small as straightening your legs out and tugging his shirt up to be out of the way.

But Dean quickly batted his hands off your legs again, not even giving it a second thought. He knew what he was doing and whatever Sam was doing to play with you was going to get in his way once he started to change you. This was his duty as your uncle…person… designated diaper changer? No, that sounds awful. He’ll just settle for… um…

Now Sam was annoyed. He was just trying to help and you were his anyway so why Dean wasn't allowing him to touch his own kid was ridiculous. He wasn't even doing anything yet. He was just unfolding the diaper and opening the wipes with his furrowed thinking brows as if this required a lot of deep thinking. It was putting a diaper on for heaven’s sake. How hard could that be?

This time he reached for your underwear, making an aggravated noise when Dean smacked his hands away again. It just felt personal now. “Quit it!”

“No, move over. I’ve got it.”

“It’s a diaper. I can figure it out! You act like I’m incapable or something!”

“You’ve never done it before! I have! Move over.”

Your eyes bounced back and forth as you watched them bicker, lightly shove at each other, and smacked each other's hands away when they reached for you, like teenage girls trying to avoid a full brawl but slowly bordering on one. You giggled around the stuffie’s ear in your mouth and squirmed when they would touch you for a brief moment only for the other brother to pull them back away, their focus going right back to bickering.

It took them a solid few minutes to realize that their bickering had wound you up, making you much more active and wiggly. Your clothing houdini act making a return when they both had to pause in surprise seeing your underwear had disappeared. Sam looked around the bed even peeking under it for the article of clothing, shocked and slightly horrified at your decision.

Dean was more surprised than Sam not expecting that. In fact seeing you half naked was like a wake up call to him that… you were not his kid. Or significant other. Or whatever you were to Sam. And he was… encroaching on that a bit actually. He was just supposed to be guiding his brother not over taking it. He was supposed to be his Shredder or Obi Wan… whatever. His mentor. His..big brother… not.. Dad.

Dean took a breath then put his hand on Sam’s shoulder pulling his attention away from his missing underwear search and held out the diaper to him. Sam awkwardly took the diaper from him and raised an eyebrow, unsure what he wanted from him.

“Slide it under the kid’s butt before any more pee gets on my bed.”

Sam’s gaze nervously flicked between you, Dean, and the diaper, the sudden task before him much more daunting. Sure he wanted to do it by himself a few minutes ago but that was when he was fueled by spite from his brother. Now he felt like he'd been thrown in the ocean with a boat he had no idea how to drive.

He clears his throat and tries to use one of your legs to lift you up so he could slide it under you. However.. he could only get it under one cheek and you kicked at the diaper with the other free leg. His brows furrowed in concentration as he reached for your other leg trying to lift them both at the same time but another problem arose. Adult legs were much bigger than infants’… even with his bigger than average hands. So when he attempted to lift you up with both ankles in one hand and you squirmed around you would effectively get one leg out of his hold. every. single. time.

Dean watched his little brother struggle with the first most basic step, struggling internally to not tease him ruthlessly or just take over and do it himself or both. It would be easier after all. But he told himself he would teach his little brother so he would.

Try.

He would try.

If his brother ended up being totally helpless then well… Dean would just be looking after his bed. Who could blame him?

“Roll 'em onto their side then roll ‘em back onto the diaper.” Dean offers only for Sam to huff and look at him a bit frustrated.

“Roll..? You mean right off the bed? Don't you see I’m barely keeping this little worm from squirming off already? The bed is too small for that.”

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam’s sassy complaint and stepped a little closer to gesture with his next suggestion, his subconscious itching to quit teaching to get it over with. He would do it so much faster. “Try putting your hand under the small of the back.. Right here.” He slides his hand under your back and lifts just enough for your butt to lift off the bed, your body automatically stilling and assisting his action. “To lift the butt up.. See? There. Then you can slip it under.”

Sam quickly slipped the diaper under your body before your momentary stillness ended and Dean set you back down on top of it. The material crinkled and you peered down at it for a moment. Your baby brain enraptured by the noise and familiar feeling under your butt.

Dean then took the leg closest to him and gently pushed it out, gesturing for Sam to do the same to the other leg as he reached for the powder. Realizing how hands on he had become again he quickly handed the bottle over to Sam. “Powder then pull up the front.”

Sam took the bottle in hand and looked at it like it was a new weapon for a hunt he’d only seen through research before but never gotten the opportunity to use. If he could do that he could do this. He just had to keep repeating that to himself and this would be fine. If he could do that he could do this. If he could do that he could do this. If he could–

Sam turned the bottle over to spray the powder out into the diaper but…nothing came out. He looked at Dean sheepishly as he turned it back over to screw open the top only to breathe in the cloud of powder that puffed out. You giggled uncontrollably at the sight of him coughing with a light dust of powder decorating his face which made Dean laugh as well.

Recovering from his coughs, Sam gave you both an embarrassed glare before trying again. This time successfully dumping the powder on you and the diaper. Although maybe a bit too much? He wasn't sure he didn't exactly have a reference to go off of. You giggled at the feeling of the soft powder and the cloud that came with it. You even held the toy, that you luckily had yet to make disappear like your clothes, down by your belly making it appear as if it were looking at the cloud on your skin as well. The sweet action made Sam relax once again knowing that even if he was somehow doing this wrong you were still happy and unbothered by his mistakes. You were being such a patient baby today and he couldn't be more thankful for it.

“Alright you kinda.. made a little mountain. In one place. So go ahead and rub that in a little. Like in the creases and stuff so none of us have to deal with a rash later.” Dean instructed, his mind conjuring up the image of listening to a little kid cry in the backseat of Baby due to a diaper rash they could’ve prevented... while they drove for hours… no gas station in sight… no place to buy more changing supplies… god. He had to stop before he gave himself nightmares.

Dean looked away as Sam hesitantly began to rub the powder around, hoping to give you both a bit of privacy as if he hadn't already seen it all by now. You wiggled around a bit as Sam’s hand brushed the baby powder into the creases of your hips and thighs, nervously pausing around your butt and genitals. It was an uncomfortable situation that was a part of the reason he suspected both of you hadn’t yet broached the topic of him changing you before and Dean turning away made it feel like it was.. a taboo… or extra intimate which made him more nervous but… he had to remind himself he was being a dad right now and even his brother knew that by calling himself your uncle. And while you two would have to have a conversation later about today plus reevaluating your dynamic and expected boundaries, this was an extenuating circumstance.

Assuming he was finally done he looked up at Dean and cleared his throat, holding his now powdery hand up, waiting for his instructions on what to do next. “Now what?”

Dean looked back at his brother for a moment then down at you to double check his work, still helping keep you in place with his hand on your leg while your attention had shifted to the pile of goodies on the table just a few feet away. “The front of the diaper, dude.”

“Right.” Sam went to pull the front of the diaper up to cover you but paused as he remembered his hand was still… dusty. “Uh.. what about..?” He led off holding his hand up for Dean to see better. To which he just rolled his eyes and grabbed a baby wipe, let go of your leg, and began to wipe off Sam’s hand for him. Because of course he had to do everything around here… big brothers and mentors just never got a break! He would be taking care of Sammy forever… ahem.. hopefully…

While he was busy cleaning Sam’s hand off, you took the opportunity of no longer being held in place to roll over onto your side, eyes trained on the other toys on the table and not the edge of the bed you were nearing as you turned. As you started to slip from the bed your hand shot out to the bed beside you trying to grab something to keep you from falling but you ended up only grabbing the towel which went down right along with you taking along the diaper and all the fresh powder Sam forgot to close.

Both Dean and Sam yelled as they lunged for you, Sam’s hand, damp from the wipe, slipped over your skin as he tried to grab your leg while Dean tripped partially onto the bed, snagging your arm roughly as he did which kept you from completely hitting the floor. Or at least kept your head from hitting the floor. Your feet still smacked on the ground and your poor white-powdered butt hit the bed frame but Sam was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and hoist you back into the middle of the bed, horrified you’d fallen and he hadn't been able to catch you.

Dean let go of your wrist, instantly moving to work in tandem with Sam without so much as a word spoken between them. He checked you over for injuries while your caregiver cupped your face and cooed apologies and… borderline scolds you with sweet words.

“Oh baby… I’m sorry. Daddy was distracted.. I thought you'd stay still for just a moment and… you can't just roll off the bed like that you could get hurt.. Are you hurt? Oh don't cry..” Sam kissed your forehead as your face scrunched up with tears. The way the boys were acting after your brief feeling of fear and the minimal pain you went through from falling was enough of a reason for any baby to cry. He looked at his brother much more seriously, his own panic coursing through him as he assumed you were crying from pain not reacting to them. “Dean, where’s the injury? I have tears at twelve o’clock.”

“Calm down. It’s fine. No broken bones. Maybe a bruised butt and wrist.” Dean was visibly more relaxed after his investigation, but was still looking over your wrist. He felt guilty for how hard he grabbed it when you were falling off a bed. It was embarrassing that they had acted like you'd nearly died off a cliff.

Sam sighed in relief and leaned down to press more kisses to your face, wiping any tears that started to fall down your face. If he could handle a diaper he could handle tears. If he could– oh.. He hadn't finished the diaper.

“Dean, could you finish the diaper situation?” He would have other chances to learn in the future but right now your tears needed him the most. He brushed his fingers through your hair and down your cheek as he moved to sit beside your head. Dean even helping to situate you so your head was in his lap while he finished changing you.

Sam pet down your face and spoke softly, “You're alright, honey. You're okay… you don't have to cry…”

His soft speaking was helping calm down the panic that lingered in your chest seeing them riled up but tears were still easier to start than they were to stop. You looked up at him through wet eyes, his blurred image from the tears made another cry slip out.

He ran his hand down to your shoulder, patting it slightly as he tried to think of how to make you feel better. But it was hard to think with you crying. You’d think all the years of hunting and thinking on the spot under extreme pressure would help in this situation but you were different than that. He was filled with the need to help his baby with something mundane not save you from being killed by a ghoul.

“Dean, why is it taking you so long?” he asked, the returning anxiety getting aimed at his innocent brother.

“You put the diaper under there backwards..!” Dean grumbled out in defense as he finished taping the diaper up then stepped away, subtly admiring his work.

Once he was done Sam scooped you up in his arms, putting you on his hip to hold you tight. “There. You're alright. See? Your bottom is all protected… and so are the sheets and daddy’s lap… and you're not hurt… you're okay..” He held one hand under your thighs while the other guided your head to his shoulder allowing you to cry into his shirt. He rubbed your back and shushed you while he rocked on his feet slowly, recalling how he’d seen people do that little movement to help soothe crying kids.

While you two were absorbed into your own little world, the older hunter stood back to watch in silent awe as his little brother parented. A part of him realizing his little brother wasn't so… well... little anymore. His heart squeezed at the sight of him doing for his little kid the same thing Dean had done for him when they were kids. He felt like both a proud uncle and a… and almost like a proud dad seeing his kid all grown up.

He wiped at his face hoping to get rid of some of those feelings, not that they were bad but… they only needed one big baby crying in this motel room.

After a few minutes of gentle loving comfort and Dean opening the things he bought to give you two your time, Sam had managed to successfully ride through to the end of your crying without having his own breakdown. It had gotten easier throughout your cry but there were still several moments when he couldn't stop thinking he was doing something wrong.

But now you were sleepily dozing on his shoulder, tired from the crying even if it wasn’t that long. Crying was hard work and Sam was right thinking you hadn't slept in a while. This hunt was dragging on and you didn't always get to sleep in the car very long to make up for the sleep you'd miss other times so the crying was just the right thing to push you over the edge.

Plus Dean had cleaned off a teether he’d bought and Sam had given it to you to suck and chew on while you drifted which only made you relax further into your daddy’s chest that smelled oh so perfectly like him.

You really hoped he wouldn't put you down while you slept.

For both your sakes.

[softpawpup]

things alien regressors might like !! (request from anon)

doing silly dances

listening to techno music

fiddling with tech

playing video games

gimicky sunglasses

bugs

astronomy

science experiments

hide and seek

word searches

hidden object games

sandboxes

roller rinks

arcades

glowsticks

neon signs

[aew-regression-cove]

🍓 ) kit / anthony, 18, they/he/she. જ⁀➴ ♡ my cg list

🌱 ) this is a general sfw blog + agere blog. (๑⁠ sideblogs)

📀 ) the hunger games , outerbanks , marvel , bridgerton & more.

💐 ) permaregressor . . . . . . 🐞 🐛

byi ,, dni/boundaries ,, wip list ,, my tags.

♡ my tiktok. | my masterlist.

icon ,, banner | OCD & Mirror Regressor Flags (used in icon) | X / ★ / X → intro post image credits

[asher-agere]

HAIII !!! ur acc is supa cwute :D can u do cg!Jouno wiff FtM bwabi regressor littl ??(/> ω <)/

-🐾🍼🐈

Awww thank you so much! You’re so sweet hehe (⸝⸝๑ ̫ ๑⸝⸝⸝) And I can totally do that for you ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

Caregiver Jouno + Transmasc Baby

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

♡ Jouno would honestly be perfect with someone who’s trans because he can’t judge by appearances. Any time his little one starts getting stressed out, claiming that he looks like a girl, Jouno will just sit him down and talk to him. He’ll explain that it doesn’t matter what he looks like, that he can look as feminine or as masculine as he wants. He knows that they’re a boy. And that’s all that matters! They’re his little boy, and he wouldn’t have it any other way

♡ Since Jouno is blind, he’s very aware of his other senses. Such as his hearing for example! It’s much better than the average persons would be. This makes him perfect to help with voice training! If his little one is trying to get his voice to sound deeper he can notice the subtlest of changes. They can be upset about lack of improvement only for Jouno to give detailed descriptions of how his voice is steadily getting deeper and more masculine!

♡ Jouno is very much so the kind of caregiver to tease his baby! So he’ll just make his teases a bit more masculine! For example instead of saying “sleepy head” he’ll say “sleepy boy”. Things like that! He’d be cautious to tease them about things that could potentially be considered feminine, for example he’ll never make fun of a high pitched or squeaky voice, or any type of interest that could be considered feminine (“Girls” shows, dresses, makeup, etc.)

♡ Jouno is very careful when it comes to binders or binding of any sort! Just from hugs he’s able to check to make sure the little one is giving their body the break or needs. He makes sure they’re binding safely too! He tries to check discreetly to not need to mention it, but if needed he’ll just ask! He absolutely pulls the “I’m not mad just disappointed” if they lie to him. As long as they’re honest though he’ll help them fix everything up! But if they lie to him he gets disappointed, this just encourages them to tell the truth!

♡ He definitely has rules for binding! He’ll help the little one make a schedule to ensure he’s not wearing it too much. He’ll also give him rewards as long as he don’t strain his body! He pretends to be annoyed though hehe “A prize? What do you need a prize for? Oh you’ve been a good boy? Hmm guess I can’t argue with that… Here you go” Jouno hates online shopping since he’s blind, so I think a lot of the prizes he gives would be homemade! Or at least bought from somewhere local making them feel even more special (ˊᵒ̴̶̷̤ ꇴ ᵒ̴̶̷̤ˋ)

♡ Jouno would be very protective! He knows what’s right, and he’d not afraid to speak up about it! If anyone is making his little one feel bad, he’ll go right up to them, say that they’re being rude, give them a chance to apologize of course. But if they don’t he’ll basically just verbally abuse them and call security or something, file a complaint. Or if that type of encounter might overwhelm his baby he’d just walk past them loudly talking! “How’s my boy doing today huh bud? Just the best boy ever aren’t you?” And of course lots of glares, he rarely opens his eyes even. So when he does you know it’s serious because it means he’s actively trying to

♡ I think he’d be pretty good at helping with stuff like hormone shots if it’s needed! He’ll poke around the little ones arm, teasing him of course! “What are you so afraid of huh? Do you not like me poking you? Am I to strong for you?” Then as they start relaxing he’ll give a brief warning before doing the injection, he has cool bandaids prepared! He’ll shake out a variety and hold them out letting the little one pick which one he wants to use! He keeps the little one having fun and not thinking yucky thoughts!

♡ He’ll absolutely give his cape to the baby! Just wrap them up all tight! I don’t think he wears hoodies much, so his cape is the next best option! It hides the little one’s body, plus being swaddled helps with just general anxiety stuff too! Especially if they’re in public and the baby suddenly regresses, he’ll give him his cape to hide them from view! If he doesn’t want to be seen he’ll also give them his hat! It hides their face better, especially if he started crying or something and doesn’t want to be seen

♡ Jouno would love doing pretend fights and stories with his baby! Jouno usually plays the bad guy role, and his little one gets to be the strong knight! Whether they’re using fake weapons or just pretending they’re holding something, Jouno will activate his ability when they do the killing blow! On impact he’ll burst into millions of particles! Then when he reforms he’ll be playing a different role! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ Like a king coming to reward the mighty knight for his brave duties!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

This took me. Way too long- Why is it so hard to find Jouno content ( ｡ •̀ ᴖ •́ ｡) (It’s not that hard I just can’t focus enough to read large boxes of text) ANYWAY. CHRISTMAS GUYS. I might give Christmas requests priority since that’s a seasonal thing but uh. Idk yet-

[ace-agere]

kidcore agere moodboard <3 !!

DNI divider

promo? :3 (please ask to be removed!)

@plushblr-stims @artsystims @weve-got-science-3 @litlpawz @littlest-bugz @dollicgrl @kangel-official @jamble-junk @shittymagicalters @suprstardaycare

[sam120684]

[adeptustemptations]

How do you think caleb or any of the others lads guys would react to their wife lactating? 👀 do you think that they'd be down to try it? I love your writing!! 💗💗

Honey, is that...? 🍼

(wc. 2.1k) How would the LADS boys react when they spot you, their wife, lactating?

featuring: rafayel x reader, sylus x reader, caleb x reader, zayne x reader, xavier x reader (all separate) warnings: mild smut, mdni.

a/n: first request down! i definitely think all of the boys would be down to try it LOL. i had so much fun writing this. hope you guys enjoy! c:

🧜 RAFAYEL:

At first, you think Rafayel’s being moody because of something work related. Probably just something about him not getting inspiration for his next piece.

He's quiet during dinner, pushing his food around with the fork, glancing at you between bites but saying nothing. Then he sighs. Dramatically. Like you’ve just told him the love of his life is marrying someone else.

“Do you need the tub prepared?” you ask, gently patting the baby's mouth with a cloth as your baby drifts off to sleep, full and milk-drunk in your arms.

He shrugs. “No.”

Another sigh. Even more dramatic this time.

You narrow your eyes. “Okay, what’s wrong with you?”

Silence.

You put the baby down in the bassinet, tiptoeing back to the couch where he’s brooding like a man personally victimized by your child. You sit beside him and poke his thigh.

“Rafayel. Talk.”

He doesn’t answer at first. Just shifts in his seat dramatically, like you should already know why he’s in a mood.

You raise a brow. “Raf?”

“…Why does he get to taste it?” he finally mutters.

You blink. “What?”

Rafayel lifts his gaze, eyes narrowed. “Your milk. The baby gets all of it. Meanwhile, I, your husband, don’t even get to try?”

You stare at him, baffled, amused, a little turned on by how offended he looks.

He shifts closer suddenly, tone softening like he’s trying to guilt you.

 “You used to let me suck on them all the time,” he mumbles, voice pitiful. “Now I get nothing.”

“Rafayel Qi,” you say, laughing despite yourself. “You’re jealous of your own child?”

“He doesn’t even appreciate it,” Rafayel huffs dramatically. “He’s just... drinking. No compliments. No praise. No loving gaze. No eye contact.” He places a hand over his heart. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“You want to flirt with my boobs while I’m nursing?”

He nods solemnly. “And after.”

You blink. “Raf.”

“No, no, go ahead. Ignore me. That’s fine.” He gestures grandly, flopping back on the couch like a neglected kid in a drama. 

“I mean, I get it,” Rafayel huffs, gesturing vaguely toward the baby now blissfully passed out at the bassinet. “He needs it. It’s nourishment. Bonding. Blah blah. But like, what about me? A stranger in my own marriage.”

You roll your eyes. “Then ask.”

He freezes. Turns to you slowly.

“…Seriously?”

You nod. “If you’re that curious, then fine. Go ahead.”

Wasting no moment, he immediately latches onto you, and his reaction is instant. His eyes roll back. A full-body shudder.

He suckles on your nipple with the eagerness of a thirsty man who had just found water after days of being dehydrated. When a bit of milk manages to escape from the side? He immediately laps it up, wasting no drop.

He pulls back, breathless. Dazed. “...Fuck."

Then he smirks.

“Alright. New plan. Let’s have six more kids.”

You shove him off the couch.

🐦‍⬛ SYLUS:

Everyone in the N109 Zone knows that Sylus doesn’t kneel.

He doesn’t plead.

He doesn’t repeat himself.

He doesn’t need to.

He gives orders, and people obey. His name alone strikes fear into civilians and corrupt officials alike. He's the kind of man who takes what he wants, and everyone bends at his will.

But you?

You’re the one thing he never commands.

Because with you, he never wants to.

And right now? He’s at your feet.

Literally.

It starts when you’re in the privacy of your home, in a soft robe, curled on the couch with your baby fast asleep in the bassinet. You’re drowsy and glowing, eyes heavy from the feeding, your robe slipping just slightly to reveal a glistening patch where you’ve started to leak again.

Sylus was reading some documents, possibly just about a new batch of weapons shipped to one of his armories. All that boring stuff. When he looks at you, his eyes immediately zero to your chest.

He freezes.

The documents clattered to the ground. 

You glance at him, confused. “Sylus?”

But he’s already closing the space between you. You see it, the desire in his eyes as he kneels before you, palms on your thighs, breath hot and uneven.

“Please.”

His voice is hoarse. Ragged. Barely a whisper.

You blink. “Huh?”

“I need to taste you, sweetie.” He says it like it physically hurts to admit, jaw clenched. 

“Can I try? Please?”

Your breath hitches. “Sylus—”

“I never beg,” he murmurs, leaning forward, brushing his lips against the skin of your breast. “But I’ll get on my knees for this. For you.”

He doesn’t ask again.

Just lowers his mouth to your breast and licks. The moment the white liquid hits his tongue, everything changes.

His lips part in stunned disbelief. Then, he groans, deep and guttural, like you just unlocked something feral in him.

“You taste sweet,” he rasps. He’s already latching on you again, open-mouthed, greedy. 

“Fuck. You taste better than anything.”

You gasp, clutching at his shoulders as he begins to devour you. There’s nothing classy about the way he sucks at you–it’s messy, hungry, possessive. Like he’s waited his whole life for this and didn’t even know it.

You try to say something, to make a joke; “You’re worse than the baby.”

But Sylus growls into your skin, low and dark: “I’ll give you another one. I’ll fill you up again, if that’s what it takes to keep you like this.”

Your breath stutters. “Sylus—”

“No one else gets this. No one else gets to taste you like this.” He presses his palm to your womb. “You hear me? Only me.”

And you believe him. Because when Sylus Qin finds something he likes?

He gets it.

🍎 CALEB:

It starts with the panties.

Caleb thinks he’s subtle about it. Volunteering to do your laundry in the pretense that he 'just wants to help', setting aside a pair that smells like you, worn, soft, intimate. The design doesn't matter too, the one with lace? Spectacular. The cotton ones he bought with the apple patterns? Give him 14 of them right now. He tells himself it’s harmless, just something to keep close when you're gone on long shifts or too tired to stay up with him after work from the Hunter's Association.

When you've caught him in the act, all he does is raise an eyebrow, as if you're the one being strange.

“What?” he says, with that deadpan tone of his, nose still pressed into the fabric. “You smell nice.”

You should be flustered, but you’ve been married to this man long enough to know how weirdly intense he can be. It's part of the Caleb experience. When you tried scolding him because some of your pairs have gone missing, all he does is shoot you his signature puppy-eyed look.

But then after giving birth to your baby, everything changes. Your underwear drawer's surprisingly complete, and none of the pairs have gone missing. You'd think that maybe Caleb had just become too busy tending to the baby to even focus on his needs.

But what you don't notice is how his touches linger longer during nighttime cuddles, especially around your chest, or the way he glances at your shirt when it dampens just a little.

It happens when you’re fresh out of the shower. You're drying your hair, not noticing at first that the front of your shirt is damp. A few minutes later, you glance down and–

Oh.

You’re leaking.

“Caleb?" you call out, not thinking much of it, “I think I’m lactating again. I forgot to pump.”

You don’t expect a reaction. You expect him to say something like, ‘Want me to grab the pump?’

What you don’t expect is for Caleb to freeze in the doorway, eyes locked on the wet patch spreading across the fabric.

“...Again?” he says quietly.

You blink at him. “Yeah? That’s usually how it works.”

His eyes narrow, his jaw clenches, and before you can respond, he’s across the room, pushing your shirt up to your chest with eagerness, hunger glinting in those beautiful purple eyes.

“Let me taste.”

Your brain short circuits. “Wha–Caleb–?”

But he’s already there, lips closing around your nipple, hand firmly planted at your waist like he owns you.

And when he moans? You swear it’s the dirtiest sound he’s ever made.

He drinks like he’s been deprived. Like this was what he needed all along, and nothing else compares. Not the panties. Not your bath soap. Not even the taste of your skin.

No–this. This is divine. This is yours.

Later, when you're sprawled on the bed, dazed and breathless, he kisses your stomach and murmurs softly:

"Maybe we should have another baby. Just so you don't run out."

You laugh. “You're a freak.”

“I’m serious.”

He looks up at you, utterly sincere, eyes dark with something that’s not quite lust–it’s obsession, devotion, need.

And you know then: he’s addicted.

Not just to you.

But to every part of you.

☃️ ZAYNE:

You already knew Zayne had a problem with sweets.

The bakery receipts stuffed in his lab coat. The way he always “accidentally” wanders into the dessert section at the grocery store. The time he got bribed by Dr. Greyson with macarons.

But this?

You hadn’t seen coming.

It starts innocently enough; he’s helping you undress after a long day, brushing his fingers along the curve of your side as he unclasps your bra. You’re a few weeks postpartum, still sore and soft in all the ways he loves. He’s kneeling in front of you, peppering lazy kisses along your stomach when he notices the damp spot on your breast.

"Hmm?" He hums, brows furrowing. He leans in closer.

"You're leaking."

You sigh. “Yeah. I forgot to pump again. I’ll go get–”

“No,” Zayne cuts in, already cupping your breast in his hand. “Let me.”

“Zayne–!”

But he’s already latched on before you can finish, mouth closing around you like it’s second nature.

The first taste hits him like a drug.

His eyes widen.

Then flutter shut.

He moans. Actually moans. Like he just took a bite out of the best dessert of his life.

“Dearest,” he breathes when he finally pulls back, his lips still wet. “Why didn’t you tell me it tastes like this?”

You blink, a little dazed. “Like… what?”

He licks his lips. “Sweet. Warm...”

Then his gaze flicks up, dark and hungry. “Better than any dessert I've ever tasted.”

Your face flushes. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe,” he says, already nudging you backward onto the bed, crawling over you with sinful intent. “But you married me.”

And just like that, he’s latched on again, slow, thorough, absolutely obsessed. Like he’s savoring every drop. Like you’re his final meal, and he’s a man who’s starved.

When he finally pulls away, lips wet and pupils blown wide, he looks like he’s come undone.

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he mutters:

“…I think I need to adjust my meal plan.”

You raise a brow. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, dead serious. “You’re my new dessert. Effective immediately.”

⭐ XAVIER:

It’s still dark out when Xavier stirs beside you.

He wakes like he always does. Quiet, warm, arms automatically reaching for your sleeping form. He pulls you close, breath brushing on your neck, his hand splaying across your waist under the covers.

That’s when he notices it.

A damp spot on your shirt. Right over your chest. You’re on your side, curled towards him, unaware.

He blinks once. Then twice. Brain still foggy from sleep.

But then he leans closer, nose brushing against the fabric, breathing in the scent that’s distinctly you. Warm and milky. Sweet.

Something stirs in him. Not lust, something gentler. Deeper.

An ache in his chest he can’t explain. Like he wants to be closer, somehow. Like he needs to feel it. Taste it.

He shifts beneath the blankets, carefully nudging the neckline of your shirt down. He presses a kiss just above your nipple, reverent, before wrapping his lips softly around it.

You stir, eyelids fluttering. “...Xavi?” you murmur, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Mm,” he hums against your skin, mouth still lazily suckling. “Just helping.”

You blink blearily at him. “That’s… not how the pump works.”

“Don’t care,” he whispers. “Tastes better this way.”

You huff a soft laugh, too tired to scold him, too warm to care. “You’re unbelievable.”

He pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark hair tousled, eyes still heavy lidded. 

“It’s comforting,” he says simply, like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “You’re comforting.”

And with that, he tucks himself back into your arms, head resting on your chest, one hand lazily cupping your breast. You feel the occasional soft suckle as he drifts off again, slow and rhythmic, like a baby himself.

You close your eyes.

The room is quiet. The baby’s still asleep. And for now... just for now, there’s no need to move.

You both fall back into sleep, tangled together, Warm, safe, and full.

—

[MASTERLIST]

[regressionicons]

Could you please design a self indulgent icon set for yourself? 🐇💕

Posted (icons) and posted (flags)

*wags tail* hi mutual!!! Thank u sm for the happy request :D we made some icons (I may make them reversed as well). Woof woof.

[agerefandomstuff]

Hey, i rq'ed the cg sam hcs, and i loved them!!!! I was wondering if you could do some more cg sam hcs, but for a babyspace little! Have a fantastic day <3

I had writers block for a while so I’m very sorry for getting to this so terribly late. As an apology here’s an entire no-beta Baby!Reader Cg!Sam fic;

Word count: 2248

Title: Finding Comfort in your Role

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

The boys come back to the hotel and find you regressed.

Although you’d been regressing around Sam for a while now, it was always in short bursts and he personally had yet to start prepping you beforehand or help you out of anything after. You’d always done that part on your own since this was all brand new to him and it made you both more comfortable if you handled changing into different clothes and diapers until a bit later in his soft launch caregiver trial.

However when the boys came back from their hunt today, you were sat on the motel floor, half undressed, chewing on the remote with that innocent fuzzy look in your eyes Sam was beginning to find familiar. He knew you'd talked about unintentionally regressing before but he still assumed it wasn't like a… demon possession or something. It didn't just suddenly happen, catching you off guard, did it? Surely you always felt it coming on..?

While he had a ton of his own questions rattling around in his head–along with all of Dean’s mildly rude ones–he didn't have any good immediate answers. But researching couldn't be his number one priority. That was you. And also getting that nasty remote out of your mouth. Even though no one other than his brother had touched it since they’d been here, they didn't exactly have a reputation of checking into the cleanest of places. But even if they did, who knew what was on Dean’s hands?

“Hey baby…” Sam dropped his bag of equipment on the floor and rushed over to you, gently tugging the remote from your hands and out of your mouth while you were luckily distracted by the excitement of seeing him come back. Tossing it up on the bed and away from your eager little hands, he uses his strength to his advantage by scooping you up under the armpits and setting you on his hip with a continued coo. “Oooh up.. there you go…Hi, baby.. Hi.. What happened?” He asks in a deceptively light and playful tone, not wanting to potentially scare you by talking in the same overly gruff tone Dean did when he was confused with concern. You didn't respond in any real words, only giggles and confusing garbled babbles.

Dean finally follows Sam inside, locking the door behind him and setting their weapon bags away in the closet where you wouldn't be able to get to them as easily if you suddenly decided Sam’s appearance was no longer interesting and fun to make noises at.

“Hm? Can you tell me what happened, pumpkin?” Sam asks again, hoping maybe since you had responded–as childish and incomprehensible was it was–that perhaps you might miraculously get a real word out of your lips to give him a hint of what caused you to regress. That plan is quickly given up on along with his attempts to put your jacket back on.

While briefly glancing around for your missing sock he finds his duffle bag of clothes strewn about the floor. no doubt something you had gotten into.“Oh… that's…I see you found.. my clothes.. instead of your own…” he tugs your jacket off your arm and lays it beside the wet remote while he calls out to his brother who was already making his way over, “Um.. Dean? Could you grab–”

“On it.” Dean answered, knowing his little brother well enough to already be looking for your bag, having the same thought that you must have been looking for something earlier.

As he searched you’d began to play with Sam’s hair, tugging on it slightly then giggling when he would try to gently pry your hand away with quiet complaints of pain.

Finding your bag slipped down between the wall and the side of the bed, Sam comes over to search for the supplies he assumed you had been searching for with a rapidly regressing mind. He was hoping there would be something inside you could occupy your busy little hands or mouth with that might save his poor scalp from more pain as you continued to tug on his hair.

“So are you going to answer any of my questions about what's going on or at least give me an idea of what I might be looking for?” Dean asked, helping pull things out from the bag since Sam was struggling to do so while holding you and trying to fight your surprisingly persistent hands. Now Dean has no issue going through someone else's belongings if it's necessary… (or if it’s fun), but he really wasn't sure what he was supposed to be getting out of your bag. He could guess it was something you owned that would relate to whatever… relationship you and his little brother had but…he had been purposely trying to keep himself a bit in the dark on that one so he needed a little direction for his search.

“Um..” Sam started out, unsure himself of what exactly it was that you might bring or if you had even brought anything at all. “A… pacifier? Or maybe those… key– the plastic key things? The chewing things?”

“Teethers?” Dean asked while he attempted to decipher his brother’s inexperience while tugging out more clothes and a whole lot of nothing else and–teethers? Pacifiers? What? Sure he made the guess, it was his first thought! And it made sense with the context clues and the way you had been chewing on the remote and how your fingers are now in your mouth—! Man. He doesn't get this. But whatever, that doesn't matter. He's just gotta help Sammy because boy does he look like a fish out of water.

“Yeah! Teethers! They keep dirty remotes out of mouths and little baby fingers away from adult teeth. Don't they, baby?” Still trying to keep his voice light and gentle and half talking to you more than Dean, Sam begins tugging your fingers away from your mouth. Shushing your whines as said fingers catch on teeth that just didn't seem to understand that they could fix the issue by simply opening up your mouth a bit wider—

“There isn't anything in here for that. Are you sure you packed it?”

“Packed it? I only packed my bag!”

“Why wouldn't you pack a baby’s bag, idiot?”

“It was an adult’s bag at the time, not a baby’s, so I wasn't asked to, asshole!” Sam argues back, starting to rock and bounce you in an effort to distract you from your hand and their bickering. “So no I didn't pack any teethers or stuffed animals or diapers or—”

Dean’s head whipped up and his stomach dropped to the floor as they both seemed to come to the same realization. Frozen in place they had to pry their gazes away from each other’s to you as if expecting to find that you’d had an accident that very moment. Their eyes slowly, in comedic sibling tandem, drag down your frame resting on his hip.

You didn't.. look.. wet…? At least… not this moment you didn’t.

“Are…they.. necessary..?” Dean asks slow and hesitant, unsure if he was even allowed to ask or know about that kind of information about you. After all, he wanted to stay in the dark about some things! Out of respect! And because he really didn't need to know everything about his brother’s relationship– the same way Sammy didn't need to know everything about his!

“Uh..” Sam clears his throat, trying to remember if you'd ever used them around him before or perhaps mentioned whether you had a history with it or not… but all he knew is you wore them sometimes. That was a part of your before and after prep that he didn't have a hand in yet. He hadn't been given the rundown! No tutorial! But also.. he hadn't ever really asked about it. He was going to… eventually… It's just.. there were so many things he was getting used to with this and he was getting a bit overwhelmed with researching it—because who knew there were so many subgenres and conflicting information– and h-he just hadn't gotten to it all yet…

He looked back up at Dean, visibly tense and uncomfortable. “I dont… know…”

Eventually, after some bickering, Sam sent Dean to the store to pick up diapers. And whatever other supplies he would inevitably decide were “ultimately necessary for a baby’s survival.” Regardless of whether they actually were or if he was just grabbing stuff. But he couldn't complain too much since out of the two of them Dean did unarguably have more experience with kids. From raising his younger brother, to briefly having a family, and even the shapeshifter baby, his knowledge was one Sam was going to have to just appreciate and learn from. When he wasn't able to get direct understandable feedback from you anyway—the actual baby in question. Little coos and babbles didn't exactly help let him know if he should let you sit on his brother’s bed or his while he waited for Dean to come back with padding.

Leaning on the side of caution, he chose to lay you down on a towel he laid over Dean’s bed, something he's sure he’ll get an earful about later if you do pee.. but it would be better than if it was his bed. In the few moments he left you alone on the bed to grab one of his shirts off the floor, you’d mysteriously managed to make your second sock disappear into the wind and you’d tugged your current shirt over your head in an attempt to… suffocate yourself or something? He could only guess the reason. As he helped take off your shirt restraint he couldn't help but keep thinking; How were you doing that? You were so quick with it, it's like he couldn't take his eyes off you without another clothing issue arising.

Hopefully that would change after he changed your clothes. After folding your shirt and tucking it away in your bag he fights your squirming legs and ferocious little feet to get your pants off so he can check for any potential damage. Once you were down to your luckily dry underwear he helped you sit up, only to struggle getting your arms into the sleeves of his shirt. Considering you weren’t doing a whole lot of actual fighting against him, this task was surprisingly difficult for Sam.

With great effort he finally managed to slip his shirt over your head and down your torso. You flopped back on the bed, attempting to take a foot with you and whining when you couldn't bring it all the way to your mouth. The action made him laugh and lightened his mood since while you seemed to not be very aware of everything at the moment, not taking in how stressful everything was with the boys’ bickering, not having any supplies available, him not knowing specific and kind of necessary details, he was. He was taking in it all.

You weren't in the headspace to worry about any of that. You were too little. He was the one who had to worry about it and take care of it. He got to handle it. He was taking on the issues that… honestly? Really weren't even that big of a deal. A missing sock and getting your hair pulled by a baby were just things parents dealt with... and.. that's… what he was there for. Wasn't it..? It’s what you needed from him. To worry about things you were too small for and take care of them until you were able to again. And really.. no one’s lives were at stake right now. This wasn't a life or death or a monster hunt. It was just caring for you. Baby you.

Smiling down softly at you, you dropped your foot as you seemed to feel how he was looking at you differently. It was less worry and unease. He wasn't still deciding if he was uncomfortable with the situation or like he was afraid he might not be following the rules of a game right. He was simply content… content with enjoying your contentment. Even if you weren't in the headspace to soak in that information with as much acknowledgement as you would a different time, you could still feel the atmosphere change which left a growing smile on your face. Sam huffed out another small laugh seeing such a cute little look coming from you and couldn't resist leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

It had finally clicked in his mind what kind of caregiver he was.

“Little angel..” he whispers softly, petting a big hand over your belly then combing your hair with his fingers to be a little less messy. “I got you. We’ll get you padded up and play a bit then we’ll set you up to take a nap. Since.. daddy can only guess the last time you slept well.”

He was yours.

He was your parent when you needed it.

He was there to take care of you and handle the little issues he could. Missing socks included.

The next few minutes waiting for Dean to come back were mostly quiet, only soft giggles combined with Sam’s little sweet words as he cooed at you as you played with anything he would let you. Which ended up being mainly his fingers and shirt sleeves… but he also let you play with his hair as long as you didn't tug too much.

[softpawpup]

siren caregiver things !! ( request from @mamabunni888 )

sings you lullabies all the time, their voice magically makes you fall asleep almost immediately

usually cleans around while you're taking your naps

likes brushing and styling your hair to match theirs

takes you to the beach pretty frequently, always manages to find the isolated secret spots

helps you find the prettiest seashells and treasures every single one you give them, probably has a shelf of them at home

has pictures of you filling their phone and house, thinks youre just the most precious person in the world

likes to play pretend sailor with you

scoops you up and covers you in kisses

scared of most bugs but if you like them, they tolerate them

usually kinda blunt with other people but super sweet and gentle with you

knows all the best seafood restaurants in the area

likes to be alone with you usually, but enjoys it when you have friends and go on playdates

[distuff]

HELLO? your saja boys characterizations are so perfect!!!! i really loved reading the 'sharing' post!!!

If i may request...Baby going absolutely soft and tame under the reader's affections as they trace the patterns on his demon form face and neck with quick little kisses, secretly just trying to see how much it takes for the nonchalant Baby to loosen his composure, and they get just what they were aiming for. I love the demons being slightly awkward or unsure of such affections as I imagine its hard to come by it in the demon realm.

Answer: Aaah~ Arigatou!! I'm glad you've enjoyed yourself!! ( _ _)人 It makes me happy to know their personalities fits! And oh boi- the sOftness!! I love this idea so much! Def see what ya mean w the boyz being awkward with affection since as ya said they probably ain't cuddling in demon realm lol Hope you'll like it readershi!

📍Requests: Please check HERE

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

Baby Saja: What's Affection?

Featuring: Baby Saja Reader: Gender neutral

🍼 Baby had barely any memories of his life before death - only fragmented flashes.

🍼 A betrayal from someone he once trusted. A faceless figure selling him off to another faceless nobody. Torture. Torture. Moulding. Screams. Blood. Endless cries.

🍼 The memories always ended the same: the sound of a thousand skittering legs crawling - burrowing - into his ears, past his eardrums. Screams. Tears. And then— Darkness...

🍼 Everything after that became crystal clear. He remembered standing emotionlessly before a vast wall of violent purple flames that crackled as if laughing. There was, however, another voice. Soft, almost like a balm on the pain his body hadn’t realised it carried. It coaxed him to step back.

🍼 So he did. He slid his right foot behind him, about to lean toward that soothing light - when another voice, one that burned, spoke: "WoUldn’T YoU LikE tO ForGet?"

🍼 The words hit like a club across his head. His eyes snapped open, head splitting with pressure as memories fought to surface. Rage he didn't knew was there surged forward. Screams and images - blurry faces he didn’t recognise but hated all the same - overwhelmed the soft pull of the first voice.

🍼 His hands twitched with the urge to tear something apart - to claw the answers to his questions out of someone, anyone. Instead, his fingers dug into his scalp, nails scraping skin until he felt something wet slide down his forehead, trailing along his cheeks, dripping to his bare collarbone.

🍼 "gO," said the flame again. His gaze locked on the radiant purple fire. A warmth spread through him - not comforting, but fueling - amplifying his rage, he didn't know he had while the soft voice behind him begged him to turn back.

🍼 He gritted his teeth. A faint, sharp face appeared within the flame, grinning with needle-like teeth. "Go aNd ForGeT, bY mAkiNg AmeNDs wITh thOsE whO WroNgED yoU… I shAll aLlOw It tO hApPen."

🍼 It spoke with such confidence he didn’t even question it. Just took one slow step forward. Then another. Until he stood directly in front of the one he would come to know as Gwi-Ma.

🍼 Warmth engulfed him. His shoulders eased, the tension slipping away as his body - cold without him even realising - began to warm up.

🍼 Then came the pain. Scorching. Burning. The purple flames had devoured him whole. It lasted only seconds, yet stretched into what felt like centuries as the cackling of the flames joined his blood-curdling screams..

🍼 And with the dying flames, the contract was sealed. Powers to take the lives of those who wronged him for his submission to whom he now recognised as his King. Warmth then became something wrong. It prickled. Burned. Even the thought of a touch made him recoil.

🍼 Not that anyone in the demon realm dared to touch him. Not when he started rising through the ranks faster than anyone expected for a freshly turned demon. It was laughable, really - he didn’t even know what the ranks were until much later. He was too busy hunting humans to satisfy the maddening itch in the void where his soul used to be.

🍼 He was no one. Just a follower meant to feed his King. Until Jinu came along, saw his face in the demon realm, and casually called him “Baby.”

🍼 Baby hadn’t realised it would stick. Even with demonic features, it seems he had a baby face. Perfect for luring in humans if you asked him.

🍼 He had no memory of his real face, no idea who he used to be. The only hints were physical reactions - flinches, preferences, inexplicable instincts. Forget my ass, Baby would grumble every time his body reacted to something he couldn’t explain.

🍼 So, when Jinu asked if he wanted to take a peek at the human world, Baby very easily said no. It wasn’t until Jinu literally begged that a sadistic smirk tugged at Baby’s lips, and he agreed - caring very little for whatever promises Jinu had offered.

🍼 But the lack of memory came with one very specific problem: He had no template to base his appearance on. Although Baby felt that even his demonic form probably held more resemblance to whoever he’d been before death than whatever polished identity Jinu had instructed him to mimic.

🍼 The mint hair felt right in tone, but not colour. His bright painted nails felt right too, though he preferred darker shades. His cheeks were too round, eyes too big - he remembered scowling the first time he saw his reflection and calling himself a “Fucking owl.” Eventually, he altered them, drooping them slightly. Enough to pass as doe-eyed, but more tolerable for him.

🍼His lips and nose felt… familiar. Almost correct. And his demon markings? He felt naked without them.

🍼 Ironic, considering they were symbols of what he’d become. Still, they were him now. Not this peach-skinned twink he wore for public appearances.

🍼 He lived for moments when no humans were around and he could drop the illusion. Let his features sharpen. Hair darken. Let the demon marks shimmer faintly when caught at the right angle.

🍼 But the thing that really got under his skin? That fucking honmoon wave surrounding the entire damn globe. Broadcasting its bullshit feelings - “Comfort,” “Love,” “Warmth.” Every time it pulsed near him, his brain went static, and his body curled in on itself. Disgusting.

🍼 He labelled what he felt as disgust, anyway. But he sure as hell wasn’t about to investigate it either. Those feelings? They made his skin crawl. Tried to fill the void in his chest - and he wanted nothing to do with them.

🍼 So when you slipped into his routine, so slowly he didn’t even notice until Romance offhandedly asked if you’d be coming to one of their shoots - Baby had been about to say no. But he froze. Because how the fuck should he know?

🍼 He hadn’t even realised how intertwined you’d become in his life until that moment. He hated it. He hated what you made him feel.

🍼 Even worse? He realised why he felt so pissy lately. It was you who made it impossible for him to relax the illusion. That was your fault.

🍼 So. What does a clever, soul-devouring, high-ranking demon do? ... That’s right. He told you.

🍼 Told you the truth - on the apartment balcony. At night, when the guys were out. Cornered you, really. He knew humans had that fight, flight, or freeze instinct, and he wasn’t about to be scolded by his seniors if you ran off because your little human brain couldn’t process anything that wasn’t a grey alien with antennae.

🍼 Let the illusion slowly fall away- Silver-blue eyes overtaken by a glowing gold, face subtly shifting, clawed hands flexing. Grey-toned skin bled over warm peach, washing it out in waves. Markings flickered faintly before settling - like ink spreading across wet parchment.

🍼 It went about as well as he expected. You looked at him - his pupils narrowed vertically, curious - And you promptly jerked back and fell off the fucking skyscraper.

🍼 Baby watched you over the railing, utterly bored, as you plummeted. Would they follow Gwi-Ma if they died? The thought flickered. The answer was obviously no.

🍼 So he jumped after you. Caught up with ease - just as your panic spiked, sharp and intoxicating through the honmoon. He pulled you against him mid-air, chest to chest. In the next breath, you vanished in a swirl of violet smoke - Only to reappear on the same balcony you'd hurled yourself from.

🍼 His expression didn’t change as you shoved him away, gasping, refusing to look at him. Baby would never admit it, but for a second, he wondered if telling you had been a mistake.

🍼 Because if you’d said you wanted to leave, even if you promised to stay silent— He wouldn’t have hesitated. He would’ve feasted on your soul then and there. So at least some part of you would stay with him.

🍼 Good for you, though. You calmed down. Asked questions. And Baby answered - just enough to soothe you, and somehow managed to make you believe he and the others only wanted to live like humans.

🍼 Yeah right. He nearly rolled his eyes at himself. They did want to live like humans, sure. But only so they could turn those annoying HUNTER/X fans into SAJA fans so their King could have enough souls to have a corporeal form.

🍼 Still. He told you exactly what he thought would calm you down. And it worked.

So you really couldn't blame him for looking at you like you'd lost every single brain cell the moment you asked him to show more of his demon features. The two of you were tucked away in his room - Romance and Abby off experiencing another so-called “wonder of the human world” under Mystery’s watchful eye, while Jinu was out doing who-knew-what for who-knew-why. Again. If Baby cared enough, he could’ve tapped into the honmoon and followed his veiled wave to sense what the other was feeling and where he roughly was. But right now, all of his attention was locked on you, mouth parted slightly as he gawked. He blinked, a brow rising before a faint smirk curved his lips as he looked you over. “Why? Want an excuse to go jumpin’ off the balcony again?” he asked, voice low, honeyed with a slight rasp. You seemed to be still a bit bothered by the subtler demon traits he let slip - like those faintly glowing golden eyes, the greyish tint to his skin, and the slightly curved black claws at the tips of his fingers. Still, most of his human features remained intact. Baby could always see the way your gaze lingered on him. Your body still, almost instinctively, while he shamelessly felt your bright blue wave in the honmoon barrier crackle with adrenaline whenever he let his human form ease a bit. The sensation was delicious, teasing, and just out of reach. He could feel it pulsing even now, tempting him. But you remained stubbornly leashed by the Huntresses. Tch. No matter. He wasn’t worried. With the plan they've agreed on, it was only a matter of time - and his gradually thinning patience until the cool blue would turn brilliant crimson. You then mirrored his "playful" smirk, pushing his arm lightly with a soft glare. "Ha. Ha. You’re so funny," you said, voice dripping in sarcasm. Baby leaned back against the pillow wedged against the headboard, posture relaxed as he grinned. “I know. I’m fuckin’ hilarious— Ack! Hey! What the fuck... was that... for..?” You'd flicked his forehead. He growled softly, reaching for the second pillow beside him, only to trail off with his words when you shifted suddenly - smoothly swinging your leg over and settling down on his lap. His head tilted back to look at you, eyes narrowing as you loomed over him with... Determination? ...What? His claws flexed, digging into the bedding beneath him. Instinct told him to throw you off. His abdomen tightened with tension, warning signals blazing. You were far too close, and he didn’t like it - didn't like how your expression was unreadable. Golden eyes flared brighter. Still, Baby didn’t act. He had a part to play, and unfortunately, that part meant he had to let some of the physical touching pass. Apparently, this was how modern couples showed... affection. Gwi-ma, he wanted to gag. He kept his face composed, barely restraining himself, giving you a sceptical look as you inhaled like you were bracing for— His hand shot out, clamping around your wrist before it could reach his left cheek. He knew exactly what you were aiming for. His mark - a jagged line like a centipede crawling from his neck to his temple, slithering beneath his shirt and connecting to the web of others across his back and stomach. “What... are you.. doing,” he asked, voice low and gravelly, each word pronounced deliberately as he locked eyes with you. To anyone else, you might’ve looked fearless. But Baby could feel the tremor in your honmoon wave. Fear and— oh? Anticipation?

HaaaH. How stupidly naive. Were you seriously getting off on this? His frown twisted into a crooked grin as he tightened his grip on your wrist - just enough to make a point. His other hand slid down to your thigh, claws grazing your clothed skin with a deliberate lightness that sent a shiver through your body. He felt it. That spark in your wavelength. The surge. He could’ve taken it - could’ve let that familiar fire devour him, choosing scorching heat over soft warmth any day - but just as he leaned in, lips parting to claim that blaze for himself- You placed your hand gently over his mouth. With that same nerve-fraying calm, you guided him back onto the pillow. What... he thought, blinking. Baby was confused - thrown off by how unreadable your wave had become. It rattled him, and his face gave it away. But instead of offering any explanation, you simply leaned closer, hair falling like a curtain around your face. The tips of your fingers trailed from his lips, down the column of his throat, settling softly where the faint glow of his marks began to appear. His focus slipped. The illusion cracked. In places he could usually hold it together, it now flickered and glitched - his control slipping as his body betrayed him. Baby hated it. Hated how he could overpower you, end you, devour your soul without effort. And yet, when the image crossed his mind and he tried to command his limbs to move- All they did was twitch. His hand tightened silently around your wrist, more a warning than an attack. His golden eyes flared, pupils narrowing to slits, claws twitching against your thigh as he watched your every move carefully. His body coiled, breath shallow, your hand sliding beneath his neck. His marks pulsed under your touch - more visible now, shining through the grey-blue tint of his skin like they were answering some silent call. It was laughable. Hysterical, even. His chest vibrated with a low, restrained cackle. His demonic body - eager, searching - called for marks that didn’t exist on you. You were human. You can't respond. And yet, his body did not seemed to get that. That's why when he saw the lack of marks, he couldn't but feel desperate - drawn in by that tender, painful warmth of your touch, but also aching to pull away from it. As if your calm was contagious, invasive. Baby gritted his teeth as you dragged your hand lower, pushing aside the collar of his shirt to reveal more of his glowing marks. He strained not to retaliate, not to lunge. You were touching him so carefully. He could’ve crushed your wrist. Should’ve dug his claws in, made you stop. But all he could do was breathe hard and watch through half-lidded eyes, your presence looming over him. You looked at him with that maddening combination of tenderness and steel, no hesitation left in your wavelength. It pulsed through the honmoon barrier. And he felt it. Your fingers traced the glowing lines across his chest, up his neck to his right cheek, and it was like you were branding him - burning him with your softness. Pathetic, he thought, as his grip slackened. His body and mind were at war. The mind screamed: They'll betray us. Leave us. But his body... Baby exhaled shakily, eyes fluttering as he hesitantly nuzzled into your palm. His pupils dilated, just for a moment. Then they narrowed again, body snapping taut as your lips pressed gently to the mark on his left collarbone. Reflex kicked in. In an instant, he overpowered you - twisting your body beneath his with a snarl that rumbled deep in his throat. He pinned your arms over your head, legs locking yours in place so you couldn’t move an inch. His glowing eyes bore down into yours, slitted and wild, fangs bared.

The adrenaline was back - shuddering through your wave, cracking against the barrier - and it made Baby feel sick to his stomach. Disgusted. Yet he let that familiar, creeping fear settle on his tongue like a meal he devoured with too much hunger. That's right… he thought, tightening his hands around your bound wrists as he leaned closer, close enough that your noses nearly brushed. His grin was mocking, laced with something darker. “Did you had your fun?” he growled low, his mind too preoccupied with his aching body to try and sound playful. He needed to get closer; his marks pulsed, desperate for yours to answer back. His grip tightened just so as he dipped lower, his eyes locked onto your face, breath warm as he brushed his lips over your right ear. “I sure didn’t,” he growled again, voice rougher now, pupils thinning into sharp slits. Yet still, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. There was no anticipation. No arousal. Your wave felt hollow - like it had vanished entirely. And that silence in your energy made the void in his chest expand until it felt unbearable. He must’ve looked insane - his lips parted in shallow gasps, golden eyes blown wide and glassy. He rose up just enough to search over your body, frantic, desperate for the familiar spark that could sear him if he dared— Baby froze. He couldn’t move. Not a muscle. Your lips were pressed with quiet certainty against the mark on the left side of his neck. Like your life wasn’t in danger. Like you weren’t human. Like he wasn’t a demon. Baby shuddered fully as you strained your neck to kiss his left cheek, right as his breath stuttered and caught. His eyes, two black moons nearly devouring the gold, stared at you like a cornered beast. He didn’t even notice when he’d loosened his hold. But he had - because suddenly your hands were cradling his face like he was something precious. He didn’t know what to do. So he let you guide him upward, both of you slowly sitting on the bed. His eyes stayed locked on you, unmoving, unblinking - as though expecting a trap. As if at any second you might hurt him. But you didn’t. Instead, you smiled. Softly. Your left hand came to rest at his neck, massaging gently, while your right traced over the demon mark. Baby realised then - every single mark across his body had begun pulsing again, glowing faintly through the fabric beneath your hands. With a sharp inhale, Baby curled his clawed hands into the sweatpants, watching you lean in. He expected a shove. A scream. A betrayal. Instead, your forehead rested softly against his, your hair mingling with his own. Your eyes were closed. His stayed open, pleading silently - end this, do something, don’t drag it out.

But what broke him were the words you whispered between the two of you, "It’s okay, baby. You’re safe here… hmm~" The name. His name. No - pet name. And the meaning behind those words was what finally made his body go lax all at once. He exhaled and let his forehead drop to your shoulder. As if the strings holding him had been cut. His body slumped against yours, heavy, drained - and you didn’t waver. You held him. You expected this. One hand slid up into his hair, the other keeping him anchored as he pressed his face deeper into your neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent that was you. A shaky exhale left him. His arms curled around you, possessive and trembling, like you were his personal plushy and he didn’t quite know what to do with it yet. Something flickered in his chest. A soft flame. And in that quiet, Baby realised two things. First… His arms tightened protectively around you as he slowly opened his eyes. That glowing gold, dimmed but determined, stared into nothing. You were not going to be taken from him. Not by the King. Not by fate. Not by anything. Baby would stand against that pathetic excuse of a King if he had to. And second… His gaze dropped to the gentle blue hue of your soul. It was being wrapped - willingly - by the bright violet threads of their shared demonic energy. With a smirk you couldn’t see, Baby lowered his clawed hand to your chest. His markings responded, pulsing at his command. He watched with near-reverence as the blue began to shift - from a gentle blue - to a sharp crimson. The once serene hue of a honmoon, now soaked in red devotion to him. His tongue traced over one fang as he trembled at the flood of emotion pouring from you - adoration, fondness, warmth. He pressed in closer and sighed in satisfaction. His other hand slipped from your back down to the mattress, touching your wave - letting it wrap around his arm and slide up his side right as he clenched his hand around it. He was ready when your body shuddered - before you collapsed into him completely. Straightening, Baby let himself fall backwards with you in his arms, landing softly against the mattress. Your dazed expression rested against his chest. Crimson line glowed gently across his marked skin, and Baby smiled, pleased. He brushed a strand of hair from your face and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Rest, my stubborn human," he whispered, "I promise I’ll be here when you wake up,” He reclined into the pillow as your eyelids fluttered, too tired to understand what had just happened.

His smile widened. As your body surrendered to sleep, his arms instinctively tightened around you. Unbeknownst to you, your forms had become woven over - your beautifully crimson wavelength, having torn itself free from the barrier, drawn to him the moment he called. Oh, you... How adorable that all it took was a flicker of vulnerability in something humans believed to be untouchable for them to give themselves over so completely. So fucking naïve~ Baby mused, his grin turning sharp as he gently caressed your cheek with a clawed hand.

[aew-regression-cove]

Old intro post!!!

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[cherryredstarz]

Little Apple 🍎🍼

A/n: my ovaries crave daddy Caleb, that’s it.

Cw: pregnancy, birth, fluff, sweet little babies, semi-obsessive Caleb

When Caleb discovered you were pregnant, he was thrilled. Yes, he knew before you told him, but unsurprisingly, he knows you better than anybody (he’s been diligently tracking your menstrual cycle when when you begin ovulating for years).

When you gathered up the courage to tell him and show him two positive pregnancy tests, and scooped you up in his arms like a princess, kissing his beautiful girl senseless.

Caleb will do anything and absolutely everything to make your pregnancy as easy and comfortable as possible. He’d rush out at three in the morning to satisfy your pregnancy cravings, rub your swollen feet and calves in your later pregnancy. The colonel would even press his face into your pregnant belly, feeling the little one kick. Caleb is ecstatic.

He’s prepared with a hospital bag as soon as you go into labor, and safe to say, he was nervous. He’d hold your hand through your child’s birth, kissing your forehead and wiping away sweat from your body. Caleb will whisper words of love and encourage—it’s heartbreaking to see his pipsqueak in pain. He’ll stick up for you and defend your requests to pushy or overbearing nurses and doctors; your husband won’t let ‘hospital policy’ ruin your birth experience.

You give birth to a tiny, healthy baby girl—and Caleb feels a new type of love rush through his body—for their baby. A tiny, perfect being that is a result of your unwavering love.

Caleb would carefully drive you and your tiny infant home, and did everything possible to ease your burden and take care of your child. Late night feedings, comforting your baby while you get some much needed sleep, cleaning and cooking while you rest and heal.

At night, he’d cradle his daughter, his Little Apple, brushing his thumb against her soft, chubby little cheek. She was perfect, from her tiny feet to the sleeping pout on her lips. Your baby has your eyes and his nose and hair—she’s beautiful. And Caleb adores her fresh baby smell. Neither of you can get enough of it.

Your little family is utterly perfect.

[ace-agere]

dear diawy

please

please

dont give me reqwests.

also please say if you want it structured with 9 pictures or like a collage like in my agere kidcore moodboard

don’t fill it up! (1/1)

twanks.

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