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agerefandomstuff · 6 days ago

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hii! This is my first time requesting a story and I really love your stories 🙈! Can you write a story about a little reader that slips into a babyspace (newborn) Daddy Bucky should not go to work to take care of her, but he will be tired of her crying and neediness, but he will still take care of her 🥺🤍!

Crybaby for Bucky

Word Count: 3981

Description: Bucky has to deal with the fallout of a very needy regressed girl regressing even younger and being very very unhappy with the fact he has to go to work tomorrow. Too much crying for a tired old man.

Wrote as a regressor (y/n) reader-insert but mainly referred to as “her, she, little girl, etc.” Bucky is referred to as “Daddy” mainly and uses the pet names, “Doll, baby doll, sugar, princess, dumplin, menace, etc.” This is intended as a sfw age regression story however content warning: there is a diaper scene due to the reader dropping to a babyspace. it is still sfw intended and it is basically just another clothing item. (I mention it bc some people don't enjoy that content.)

Can be read as semi-realistic agere or littles are known universe.

Fr leaned into the crying part of the prompt.

Also something possessed me and I forgot Bucky and Steve are only like a year apart in age. I wrote a line that makes it seem like they got a ten year difference lmao oops.

A/N: I enjoyed this prompt too much. The specifics were just.. chef’s kiss… and aligned with where I was at mentally. Overall I really enjoyed writing for a bratty/needy/crybaby girl and really loved the character. Especially her cutesy delusional ending ;)

It's AO3 Link <3

See you guys in another month :)

Yesterday he had told her he needed to go in for a debriefing and she had thrown a fit, crying about how he would be missing the stuffed animal trial she had spent the day creating a narrative for. He argued that his presence wasn't necessary for some poor toy’s third sentencing but she’d dramatically thrown herself over his lap and sobbed about how he was the guest judge that would hear out the whole case. He had to be there for it. He HAD to!

The borderline tantrum earned her an early bedtime, something the perpetually exhausted old man was unsurprisingly pleased with.

…until the fifth time she’d crawled out of her crib to wake him up, complaining about an array of things from not being tired enough to sleep to the ever present “HYDRA hiding under her bed.” Any excuse to get daddy Bucky to carry her back to bed and spend more time cuddling with her or pretending to look around for hidden agents in the most ridiculous places.

Which usually didn't take too many pitiful little girl looks and begging to convince him to do since he couldn't help but enjoy answering to a view of her childish whims when she was in such a vulnerable headspace. (Even if thinking about the amount of trust that was put into him being her caregiver nearly sent him spiralling.)

But… five times??

He was tired and on the verge of snapping at her. Which wouldn't be fair to her when she wasn't in the headspace to be fully at fault. Fully. Not entirely. Little girls still know the established rules and have to follow them or face the consequences.

Such as Bucky grumpily clamoring into her crib and laying over top of her, physically weighing her down like a human weighted blanket.

After kicking and crying for a few minutes for not getting the brief midnight playtime and tuck in again, she finally fell back asleep. Surprisingly finding herself feeling more content along with her headspace dropping younger and younger as being comfortably crushed under her daddy made her body feel smaller than it actually was.

It had the same feeling as hiding in small spaces like cupboards. When a person’s in there for long periods of time they tend to lose a sense of scale, sometimes feeling too big for the cramped space while other times feeling incredibly small. Squished into something that might as well be a mouse hole.

And right now (y/n) felt tiny as could be.

Squished and warm, cuddling her daddy in her crib with her thumb loosely hanging from her drooly mouth as she dreamed about some children's cartoon that didn't exist, (y/n) was all but destined to wake up babified.

Unfortunately that also meant being easily startled. And easy to bring to tears. As babies tended to be.

Bucky’s morning alarm went off, making them both flinch awake along with triggering (y/n)’s waterworks. Sniffling, hiccuping with fat little tears running down her cheeks into the crevasse of her nose and down to the corners of her mouth, the salt stinging her skin which was already a bit raw from yesterday’s crying.

“Ughnn..doll..” Bucky groans, already exhausted from his frustrating night’s sleep and her constant crying. He just wanted a morning with… perhaps… less tears? Less pitiful snuffling in his ear? “What’re you crying for now..?”

Speaking of baby… Bucky could see her sucking on her thumb in an effort to soothe herself, something she only tended to do when she was feeling particularly little… which only meant his day was already being knocked off track…

She truly wouldn't be his baby girl if she wasn't a teary, needy mess that he loved, now would she? He thought as he rolled off her, moving to sit up and stretch his stiff back.

While she liked having the ultra soft mattress in her custom made crib, Bucky slept better on mattresses that could be mistaken for a blunt weapon or perhaps more like a straight up concrete slab…baby soft cushions were a hard adjustment for him and he didn't make a habit of co-sleeping in here.

Nevermind the fact he didn't want to be caught snoozing in an oversized, girly crib by any unexpected guest. Sam would never let him live it down and he really didn't need anymore ammo for their daily bickering.

He smacks off his alarm and makes a long, sleepy groan as he stretches, mechanical arm whirring to life quietly as he lets her cry herself out a little while he wakes himself up to something more functional. But she doesn't let him get very far, following after him the moment he moved off her and half crawling into his lap. She buries her face in his lap, letting her tears lazily soak into his sweats while still sucking on her thumb, the initial surprised-crying softening down to a displeased sleepy whimper.

After he's stretched out, he leans back against the bars and rests his hand on her bedhead. “Okay.. babydoll.. You're alright… you don't need to be crying over the alarm...” he yawned, gently combing through her hair with his fingers to get out the majority of her knots, “It gave you a bit of a fright but.. We’re alright… It spooked daddy awake too.”

She turned her head aside, peeking up at him with her puffy eyes. He gave her a sleepy smile and wiped some of the wetness off her cheek with his thumb.

“There’s my pretty girl.. Snotty nose and all.” he murmurs in that handsome gravelly morning tone that could melt her heart with or without totally comprehending his words. Her tears finally come to a stop, a small almost shy smile on her lips as she starts to giggle very softly as he playfully pinches her cheek and continues to chat to her.

“That’s better… all better. See? No reason to cry. You should be all cried out after last night anyway. Ran daddy ragged. You do that on purpose? Hm? Did you keep daddy up all night to make sure I would be too tired to do anything today?” She giggles more as he keeps talking to her in such a lighthearted tone, squirming around and reaching up to paw at his shirt. He takes her hand and brings it up to his lips, peppering kisses to her knuckles and fingers which makes her giggle more.

“Yeah. Bet you did. You're a menace.” He tugs her by that arm, trying to pull her up off his lap only for her to ragdoll. Simply to entertain herself by inconveniencing him more. He can't help but laugh at her ridiculous nature, feeling like he was losing his mind with her having this much audacity so early in the morning. They’d hardly been awake!

He reaches down and tugs her up from her armpits as he gets up, hoisting her over his shoulder, lightly patting her butt as he grumbles. “Daddy’s damn menace.”

Carrying her out of the crib he playfully throws her down onto the changing table and makes a theatrical show of changing her into a diaper, pretending like she was already a stinky mess that needed padding to protect his nose instead of just her pants.

“Which one do you want today? Huh, stinker? Pink with the bows all over or the one with the doggie?” He holds up the two choices, flipping the one choice around so she could be reminded of the printed tail design on the back that would give the appearance of having a corgi butt. Modern age had some of the strangest things and he was glad she was the one doing the online shopping for her age regression items.

She giggles and squirms on her back, playing with her nightgown, hair, feet, anything within range her hands found they could grab. Looking between the two choices she brings her one hand to her mouth to bite on while trying to make a decision, eventually taking the hand out to point to one of them with a big grin.

He holds the one she pointed to up a little higher and raises an eyebrow at her, pretending like he wasn't convinced that was the better choice. “You sure that's the right one? I mean.. It's a fine choice. Not what I would’ve chosen but–” he teases but the moment she goes to point to the other option he throws it back its drawer and tickles her belly. “Oh no no! You made your choice, princess. This one it is! And it will look mighty fine upon your little tush.”

She squeals and kicks her feet while trying to roll away from his tickling, attempting to hide partially in the wall but Bucky doesn't let her. Tugging her back to the middle and fluffing the diaper out with the other hand with the ease that only came to comic book superheroes, he lifted her legs up extra high simply to tease her… also because he had the strength in one arm to do so and super soldier daddies can’t help but show off all the time, can they?

He lays her butt down over the fluffy padding, tugging the edges to get them in the right place while she continued to giggle and watch his face with rapt attention not noticing any of the fidgeting he was doing with the diaper. He double checks it’ll fold up into place correctly then opens it back up just to pull out the baby powder like it was a secret weapon.

“How much powder do you think we need today, sugar? Mountain full?” He pretends to twist the lid off then quickly holds it upside down which makes her scream and turn her grinning face away, expecting a major cloud of powder.

He laughs at her cute little gullible moment and rights the bottle, leaning down slightly as he offers a different amount that she peeks back for, “A whisp?” He blows air on the top of the lid causing the smallest cloud, made up of only the powder remnants left on top to bloom forward, barely dusting her skin. Which of course only made her crack up more, bringing her hands up to pull her hair over her face while she laughed at his silly acts.

He took a moment to just watch his baby girl, enjoying her tears finally being from laughter rather than being the usual fussy fit. He loved moments like this. The rare moments of carefree nature he could have with an easily entertained kid that he loved being a caregiver to.

He’ll never say he was disappointed Steve grew up… but he does miss having the privilege of taking care of him. Even if that was wiping his butt as a baby or wiping blood off his face after getting said butt kicked again. There was something inside him that preened at the fulfillment of protecting someone with simple mundane acts instead of the life and death kind.

Although caring for (y/n) was certainly a lot different. Much less wiping away blood… and a lot more wiping tears.

He had been through so much trauma in his life that having someone to focus on instead of his own internal turmoil was… nice. It was a nice distraction compared to his usual coping mechanisms. Like killing people. Or drinking alcohol that didn’t do anything but punish his taste buds. Or making friends with the Winter Soldier's victims. It weighed on his mind a lot less.

Even with all the tears.

However she regularly had to reassure him that she trusted him. Trust that he struggled to believe he deserved when he’d once not had that control over his own person. He couldn't begin to understand why she’d trust someone who still felt like there was a corroded part of his mind that still lingered. Even if it was locked behind as many heavy duty mental doors that it was, he worried it was still in there. Ready to be activated. Ready to destroy every ounce of comfort and love he’d somehow managed to surround himself with.

But… right now that didn’t matter. All he saw when he looked at her right now was a perfectly happy regressed girl, giggling with the carefreeness a baby should have. All because of him and his stupid jokes.

He leans over to press a kiss to her forehead, knowing she wouldnt understand right now how much it meant to him. He looks at her with soft adoration for a brief second before changing it to his playful grin, “Alright.. alright. Enough theatrics from daddy. My doll’s tush is probably getting cold.”

He puts on the proper amount of baby powder then pulls the front forward and secures it shut with the tapes, doing the finger check around the edges that always makes her squirm. Once done, Bucky scoops her up and deposits her on his hip with his metal hand holding her in place while he starts to stroll out of the room.

He swings by the kitchen, pouring one of those meal replacement shakes into a bottle but only giving it to her once he’d set her up in a little nest of pillows back in his bedroom.

While she may have craved milk and struggled to tolerate a majority of solid foods when she was regressed this young, they both understood that plain milk unfortunately wasn't very filling for a baby her size. Which meant making a compromise. The shake they got was a unicorn of the meal/protein shake world. It was close enough in texture to milk that it worked in her bottle and didn't upset her baby brain but had enough things stuffed into it that it actually fought off her hunger long enough Bucky could get her some soft foods that would end up being more filling.

It would also give him enough time to get dressed for the debrief meeting he was due at in the next… uh oh.

“Oooh daddy’s so sorry, dumplin. I gotta run. Meeting’s in twenty.” He leans over the bed and presses a kiss to her forehead then steps away to tie his boots.

Her eyes go wide with confusion, her baby brain trying to figure out if he was betraying her or not. One minute she was happily sucking away at her baba, cozied up in daddy’s sheets in a pretty, cushy diaper, and her pjs and next he’s using the apology tone while wearing his outside clothes. What did that mean?? Was daddy leaving?? Was daddy ABADONDING her?? When she was so little?

‘You ABANDON baby? You leave her like she’s adult? Oh! Oh! Jail for daddy! Jail for daddy for One Thousand Years!’ Miette

He catches a glimpse of her shocked expression and shakes his head a bit, deflating slightly while trying to avert his eyes to not let her look get to him. C’mon steel nerves. Steel nerves. “Oh…come on.. No– Don’t– dont do this, doll. I gave you plenty of time to come to terms with this. It’s– you shouldn’t even have to come to terms with it when it’s just work. I go work all the time without you.”

Without her?? Oh god daddy WAS leaving her!!

She sure had a terrible case of selective baby hearing but she was slowly remembering the conversation that got her in trouble last night and how Bucky had work to go to today.

Bucky braved a look at her and sure enough the waterworks had made their comeback while her bottle had fallen from her hands as if she'd been told something horribly traumatic. “No– stop that. You're not–you–” He scoffed and ran a hand through his hair as he tried to rationalize why she would be fine alone for a couple hours.

She was an adult after all. Sure she wasn’t in a headspace to take care of herself as well as she usually would and that would likely end up in her neglecting certain things..like forgetting to change herself.. Resulting in a rash…

Which wasn't the end of the world!

She .. she was physically an adult. She could heal a little diaper rash.

Unless it turned into a skin infection… Or heaven forbid she crawled into the kitchen while he was gone and tries to cook with the hot stove burners by herself or gets a hold of sharp objects or–

Since when did he worry like some motherhen about a grown woman? A grown woman! She was perfectly capable of taking care of herself!

He groaned and ran his hands over his face, turning away from her for a moment to try thinking more critically but her sobbing had started to pick up into wailing and crying for him in that mushy mouth baby babble. At this point she would have a sore throat before he even made it out the door. Not even the front door. The bedroom door.

Realistically he knew the outcome of this fit the moment her eyes got big. No– scratch that. He knew he would give in last night. She was a damn menace. A stubborn… needy… crybaby...menace!

“Alright! Fine!” And she was really freakin lucky he loved her. “You win!”

He turns around, plan already made up in his mind as he reaches down and lifts her up, grabbing the bottle as well since he would need it. He manages to stuff it into one of his jeans’ pockets and carries her to the nursery, displeasure and unease quickening his step.

“You’ll tag along to work today. But this is a one time thing. You understand? This is not going to become a habit. Daddy’s work isn't always safe or mundane enough like today for you to always come along when you're feeling little.” He tries lecturing her but her wailing was too far in motion for her to get out of her own head to understand anything about the developing situation. Still very much stuck on the thought that daddy was abandoning her to a day alone by herself. Her brain assumed he was only moving her around to get ready to leave which meant she was kicking and fighting him to stay where they were. Because if they didn't leave his room then he would never leave at all, right?

It doesn't hardly phase him right now, laser focused on getting his own tasks done fast enough to get to work on time. He sets her down on the changing table they had just had such a nice moment on. Something he’s glad he took time to appreciate because he was really leaning on it to help him through this moment.

He grabs the first onesie and skirt he can find in her dresser then all but rips her nightgown off. He really would like to be more gentle about changing her clothes but she was still screaming and seemed displeased at the very idea of being both around him with everything he was doing and not being around him. The very conflicting feelings adding to the impossible to balance breakdown. So… the gentle that was currently on the table was a tad difficult to reach.

He manages to wrestle the top of the onesie on while he continued to talk, seemingly mostly to himself since she wasn’t listening. “You’re lucky today isn’t that important or dangerous. I don't know what else I would do if I couldn't get away with bringing you in today. We already wasted enough time messing around. I wouldn't have time to find you a babysitter or pull you out of this headspace.” He pushes her back to laying down, dodging a foot that nearly clipped his chin by accident and struggles to get all the correct buttons snapped together.

He cursed the person who designed buttons like this because he could not for the life of him seem to get more than two buttons at a time to stay closed while she was throwing a tantrum. Screw it. Who cared? It was closed… enough. He could fix it later when she was calmer.

The skirt did not match the onesie in the slightest, the colors and prints clashed terribly but it covered her bottom and the messed up buttons. Besides Bucky wasn't a fashion expert anyway. He was a soldier. Matchy..ness.. was not the type of crisis he dealt with.

“Today’s debrief isn't about anything particularly… secret anyway… And you're probably regressed too little to retain much of it anyway. Although you do always seem to remember the things I don't want you to.. so maybe you would.” He picks her back up, keeping her on his hip and lightly patting her upper thigh as he nabs a pacifier and one of his black sweatshirts to slip on her as he’s heading to the door. He hoped that maybe the hoodie would help her blend in a little bit better but he knew that was mostly a lost cause. He was going to go into a super elite superhero debrief with an age regressed girl attached to his side. They were unfortunately bound to stand out.

It wasn't until he was rushing them out the front door that her wailing paused, lifting her head from where she’d buried her face in his shoulder to look around at their surroundings. She hiccupped and sniffled uncontrollably as she tried to figure out why they were outside now and why daddy was heading to the car. Their eyes meet for a brief moment and he can't help but huff out a laugh in mild disbelief at the way she seemed so bewildered and confused at the turn of events.

“Yeah. You’re coming with me. Daddy’s taking you with.” He used his lighter parental tone with her, opening the back door to the car then slipping her into the oversized car seat. She only becomes more puzzled, snot running down her face with the tears that continued to fall with each confused blink. She holds her hands up on autopilot as he reached for the seatbelts, watching him buckle her in as if she wasn't entirely convinced this was happening.

He wipes at her face with his jacket sleeve, cringing at the mess he gave up after one wipe knowing he didn’t have time to completely clean her up. Instead he hands her the bottle that had been getting shaken around in his pocket. “Don't spill this, doll.”

She holds it in her lap with two hands, still working on autopilot as her big eyed gaze continued to follow his movements around as he closes the door and climbs into the driver’s seat.

It took until Bucky had actually started the car and began to drive before it finally clicked in her mind that he might not actually be abandoning her today.

A small hesitant smile starts to form on her lips while her tears start to slow down. She watches him in the driver’s seat for a while, making sure he wouldn't do something like disappear suddenly. Then she raises the bottle to her lips, nursing very lightly as she finally turns her gaze out the tinted window, giggling very quietly as the thought of victory settled into her mind. Victory of overcoming abandonment. She was really amazing, wasn't she? An amazing, brave, totally independent, and emotionally mature girl.

Daddy Bucky was lucky to have her.

—

“Oh come on, man! What is this? Bring your kid to work day?”

“Not a word, Sam–”

“Shit.. if I knew I would’ve brought one of my nephews in! I mean.. Come on. This has got to be against so many rules–”

“And who's going to argue with me about it?”

“With a face like that?”

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agerefandomstuff · 1 month ago

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little Carm from the bear??

Little Tantrums from a Little Bear

Part One

Word Count: 4,600ish

Description: Carmy is having his daily kitchen meltdown but today’s seems to be more intense than usual. After a small back and forth, Richie is elected caregiver for the day and does so in true chaotic older “cousin” fashion.

Warnings: cursing, yelling, bickering, playful fighting, slightly unplayful fighting that doesn’t result in any harm, Carmy’s bad thoughts, mentions of smoking but no smoking scene, Richie being dumb but loved, Carmy being dumb but loved, tickling, general feel goodness <3

A/N: I watched the full show just to write this and I blame you for giving me a new minor hyperfixation. (thank you. I love this messy group so much.)

The AO3 link <3

“Where the fuck did you put the goddamn asparagus, cousin?!”

Carmy is really frustrated and having an explosive time again. It’s been going on for the last hour nonstop and the tension had only gotten worse, the heat rising in his attitude to the point Sydney was pretty sure this would be the day they’d all get to witness one of his blood vessels actually burst.

But sometimes this happened. They knew this happened. They’ve all had their moments and usually he just needed to get all that build up out with an explosive argument and yelling. then he’d calm down again, realize he had been being an over dramatic asshole, apologize, and things would go on.

But once the third hour mark hit for this blow up and Richie had run out of ways to argue back, shocking even him, they started giving each other looks behind his back. Each one silently begging the other to brave up and do the thing.

Sugar looked at Sydney first hoping she would be able to step in by using her equals.. chef.. status to convince him to stop screaming over various poor vegetables for looking at him wrong or whatever his anger had focused on by then.

Sydney glanced at Tina for back up, both of them shaking their heads. Not today. It wasn’t their turn. Neither one of them thought they could combat how aggressive he’d gotten today. It was like a new red hot rage level for him. (Stitch reference goes here hehe.)

Sugar looked around the room for someone else but everyone was very pointedly keeping their heads down to focus on their work in an effort to not poke the Bear anymore.

Getting desperate now she looked to Richie with that defeated but still hopeful pleading look to which Rich instantly attempted to shut down. “Oh no. You ain’t gonna pin this one on me! I’ve been arguing with that self centered pretentious fuck. There ain’t any getting through to him today!“ he threw his towel a little too forcefully over his shoulder, making an aggressive snap noise. He shook his finger at her as he continued his little rant while Carmy’s yelling and throwing items tried to drown him out. “Nope. If you want this one fixed you're gonna have to do it yourself.”

“Please Rich? Please? He's not listening to me. And you know what he needs.”

He hated how those puppy eyes made him cave. He wasn’t a weak man—! But… any look from a little sister begging for help like that could break even the strongest.

“Fuck! Okay! Fine. Fuck you.” He grumbles as he stomps to the lockers in the back, making sure there was a clear amount of frustration and aggravation in his walk so she knew he wasn’t happy with this.

“I love you…?” She calls after him feeling guilty but.. not THAT guilty

“I love you too. Bitch.” He shoots back his voice much more faint as he came into the other room. Unlocking Carmy’s locker was easy, Richie had permanently borrowed the combo after he found it in the office’s desk drawer that he totally hadn’t been snooping through to find something else.

He doesn't bother to be quiet as he opens the door letting the metal clang about as much as it wanted since it would be a miracle if Carmy could hear it after busting his eardrums and everyone else’s. He gives the contents a once over to see if he could find the items he was looking for first without causing a mess of the obsessively neatly placed personal items that rested inside.

“What have I said about 45 degree angles on the pans people?!” Carmy's voice rang out, not waiting even a second for his chefs to respond before throwing a pan full of charred food on the floor. “It’s quicker and safer!! Its less likely to get caught on everyone’s stupid fucking brains that hang out of your asses that can’t remeber basic kitchen etiquette!! Refire the–”

Christ. Richie’s patience was beyond worn out listening to him be a damn nutjob. Fuck Cousin’s tidiness. Fuck the screaming. And fuck him for being the dumbass who has to placate the menace.

He shot a hand into the locker, grabbing things and shaking them open in hopes he would find the comfort items wrapped up or hidden inside something. With each thing that came out empty he was left with a pile of jackets and uniforms on the floor along with some loose change that he would not be cleaning up later.

Only place left to look was Sugar’s locker right? Because of course the kid couldn't keep his supplies in his own locker. No he had to hide him in mom’s.

Well lucky for her it was easy to spot the cutesy regression bag she’d bought him hanging on the right hook. Although he still had half a mind to get her back for this whole thing by messing up her locker just a teeny bit too… However, he didn't have the time. It sounded like he was yelling at Fak now and it was only a matter of time before he made the sap cry. Then they'd have two babies on their hands.

So Richie dug through the honestly embarrassing bag–with this kind of decoration maybe he could understand why adult Carmy didn't want it displayed in his own locker, he thought as he pulled out the prized item he’d been searching for.

The pacifier.

Soother.

The dummy for the dummy.

Whatever you called it. He called it their potential savior.

He was actually the one who bought it for Carmy, mainly as a joke to tease him about being a baby, and a loud one at that. hence the reason it said the “mute button” on it. But the kid actually ended up using it a couple weeks after the initial teasing from him had worn down, saying he’d been using it at home when he was cooking and couldn't leave the kitchen just to go have a smoke or he’d run out of his nasty gum.

Apparently since he started using it his weekly packs had been cut in half, only down to what their family would probably call ‘occasional’ to help stave off the shakes while non-smokers would still call it ‘an issue.’

He got a couple looks from the other chefs when he brought it to work, mainly keeping it in his mouth when he was doing prep. But it became a problem when he dropped it in some soup pots after trying to talk with it in, causing the whole dish to be remade.

Sugar brought in a pacifier clip the next week which ended in a fight that seemed inevitable to everyone who knew her and her desire to fix people.

Although… Carmy did end up using it as well after the fight settled down just…. without addressing it and only occasionally when he was filled with the type of stress a pack of Sapphire cigarettes would usually really help him with.

Taking the pacifier, which Richie decided was much less cringe than the backpack, into the kitchen, Richie stalked over to Carmy with fake calmness and a clear mission. Fak’s misty deer in headlights gaze peeked over the chef berating him, looking like he was just as shocked to see Richie there as he was to be at the receiving end of the semi-regular infamous Berzattos’ breakdown.

Richie gives Sugar a brief dirty look with an eye roll to seem like he was over his voluntold task already before suddenly reaching out and wrapping both his arms around Carmy’s neck like he was going to put him in a choke hold. Which he very well might since he deserved it!

“What the fuck are you– cousin! Get the hell off! Get OFF! This isnt fucking funny we’re crashing and burning while knee deep in shit– this isnt a time to–” Carmy yelled grabbing onto Richie’s arms in an attempt to pry them off of him but the bastard had a practicaly put him in a headlock–the same kind Mikey would put him in when they would wrestle as kids. If he wasn't filled with such white hot rage he might’ve wondered if that's who Richie learned it from.

“Shut up! Shut the hell up! I'm helping!”

“The hell do you mean helping?!?! This isn't helping! THIS ISN’T–”

“Yes it is! Just open your mouth! Open your big fat mouth again!” If there was a list of things a brother or cousin didn't want to hear while trying to fight their way out of a headlock, ‘open your mouth’ was definitely in the top ten. That's just asking to be fed worms or handfuls of dirt or any other horrendous concoction boys could cook together.

Although with the night he was having it was more likely something his staff actually cooked up that he sent back or threw on the floor.

Not… that he hadn't ate stuff he’d thrown on the floor before.

“OHHH! So NOW you shut your trap, huh?! Well I don't think so champ! You’re gonna take your stupid fuckin mute button, take a nap in the fuckin office or SOMETHING, and stop throwing a damn tantrum! You're gonna ruin our reputation by ruining the customers’ experience! You know how many of those fuckers out there are first timers? We will never get them back if you keep! Fucking! Screaming!”

Carm tried to twist out of the hold, nearly picking Richie up with the way he threw himself forward but Richie pulled him back at the same time, briefly choking him and giving Richie the perfect opportunity to mash the pacifier against his mouth.

Initially Carmy fights more, going to dig his nails into one of his arms while trying to shove the other away from his mouth, not aware it was his own stress item being very aggressively offered to him at first. But after Richie managed to worm the teet past his lips, smashing it against his teeth while the shield pressed somewhat familiarly against the skin around his mouth he pauses. his mind works through the onslaught of emotions at the realization of what was being shoved in his mouth.

Pacifier. Not.. a handful of cigarette butts. Or a napkin full of grease. Or something equally horrifying. Just… his pacifier.

Shock… embarrassment, frustration, and finally back to anger again.

Angry acceptance.

Which.. Richie could work with.

Carm reluctantly parts his grit teeth to let the rubber end pass to set on his tongue, glaring at the stove beside Fak who was stood stock still in nervous anticipation like many of the others. All simply waiting to see whether the bomb had been defused or made ten times as deadly.

Carm threw off Richie’s arms and held his fists at his sides, taking a couple deep breaths while grinding his teeth down against the rubber. The action slowly starting to calm him down a small notch. Not enough to fully melt away the last hour’s million straws that broke his fucking sanity. But enough to pause his yelling.

After a few moments, Richie takes a risky gamble by very gently wrapping his fingers around the kid’s wrist and tugging him to face him. He's stiff with allowing him to turn him around, his gaze falling to the floor space behind Richie so he wouldn't have to meet his aggravating look that would piss him off like everything had been.

“You.. need to ah… cool off in the freezer for a bit..?” He asks, keeping his mouth shut even when he thinks that… maaaaybe the freezer wasn't the best choice after ‘the incident’ and likely wouldn’t be received well as a joke.

Carmy glances up under his brows to shoot him a dirty look before looking away again as he lisps out a grumpy response around his pacifier, “..no.”

Richie awkwardly nods trying to add a bit of pretend enthusiasm like he would to help disarm wary little kids’ anger or fear. “Okay, yeah, cousin. Fine... no freezer. Uh..” he thinks for a moment of someplace else he could go that wouldn't keep him in the place that had only ramped up his anger and everyone else’s discomfort making it damn near impossible to get through service. “You can't… stay here.”

Carmy’s head shot up, instantly getting heated again. He opens his mouth, hot words already locked and loaded in his throat disengaging the pacifier safety lock. But Richie moves quicker, catching the pacifier before it falls out only to pop it back into his mouth and holds it there.

“No– hold on! Hold up! I don't wanna hear it. I been hearin it and my head hurts. You gave a damn headache so we're going t’have quiet time.” He tentatively releases his hold on the pacifier, lightly tapping it instead as if shushing him while softening his voice, “Quiet time. Away from the kitchen. Preferably away from the entire restaurant. Okay..? Say okay little bear.”

Carmy keeps glaring at him, aware of all the eyes on him, and the potential consequences of disobeying Richie’s suggestion like accidentally purposely running off all his friends and chefs. Like he did with Claire.

It was that reminder that diffused some of his flames, sneaking guilt into his mind and a slight willingness to take a break. He takes a deep breath, dropping his gaze away from Richie’s. too embarrassed to look him in the eye while he agreed.

“..okay.”

“Okay?” Richie repeats him, letting out a relieved sigh feeling like half the battle was already won with just that one word.

“Okay..!” Carmy mumbles in a more annoyed tone, frustrated he had to repeat himself but mainly still embarrassed and reluctant to abandon his kitchen with such an intense mess.

“Okay. Okay! Yeah. C’mon. I’ll… I’ll drive. Sugar? Sydney? You got this? Y’all cover our–” Richie was moving, taking Carmy’s hand in his and intertwining their fingers without a second thought as he looked to the two girls he trusted the most.

“Yeah–”

“Yep!” they both chimed in, the kitchen being set back in motion, moving and adjusting for the change. “Go ahead. Go. We got this.”

Sugar waves them off, trying to shoo them away while Sydney has already moved onto expo, figuring out Carmy’s mess and calling out orders. Richie nods and kisses Sugar’s forehead as he passes by her, proud of his staff’s ability to adjust so easily… without Carm stressing them the fuck out.

The more the guilt started to consume Carmy, the smaller he felt. His head was spinning and cloudy, the kitchen’s noises beginning to be way too much and he could hear Chef David whispering all the horrendous fucked up things in his ear again. Maybe they weren’t fucked up. Maybe they were just true and he didn’t want to hear the truth. Maybe he’s as bad as Chef David was. If he weren't then he wouldn't be getting removed from his own kitchen would he?

He had to get his thoughts under control or he was going to have a panic attack.

Is he already having a panic attack? Is that what fueled this whole thing? Is it why his fuse was so short today? Because his nervous system was all out of whack?

They were already at Richie’s car and he was saying something, probably had been saying a lot more but Carm hadn’t picked up on any of it. The flashes of traumatic prior memories had been too loud.

Richie opens the passenger door, still holding his hand he notices. It was nice, he thought. He looked at their hands while Rich cleared the seat off for him one handed. He didn't usually give anyone but his daughter rides to places and she rode in the backseats so his front one usually became the collect all.

Seat cleared, Richie turns to the noticeably quiet and spacey Carm who was now sucking on his pacifier instead of chewing on it. He lets go of his hand to grab at his waist, moving to hoist him into the seat but the actions seemed to break his shut down spell.

Carmen makes a sharp gasp like he’d been punched in the gut then whines while his hand shoots out to grab Richie’s. But he doesn't just stop once he has it, Carm pulls it up to his chest, cuddling it between his arms and tucking his chin down towards it.

He didn't want it taken away. Richie didn’t understand. He needed it. It was this overwhelming feeling of desperation that if his hand was taken away from him everything bad would happen. Another person would be leaving him because of how he behaved. Because he could never be good enough. He wasn't perfect and he needed to be perfect. He needed someone to stay and let him hold their hand even if he didn't deserve it.

“Carm..” Richie's brows furrowed slightly as he looked at the younger man. His best friend’s little brother… a major pain in his ass… his responsibility. “You gotta let go, bud. I gotta get you into the car so we can go home.”

Carmy made no move to show he’d even so much as heard him, still hugging his arm to his chest. Richie tried to pet his chin with the awkward position, lightly running his thumb over the skin he could reach while Carmy tucked his head down further to nuzzle against it.

“Listen.. That's very cute… but you gotta let go.” he gives a small breathy chuckle at the sight of him regressing to a very clingy baby but his smile disappears when he tries to tug his arm away only to be met with way too much resistance. He tries again, shocked at how strong Carmy could be even while regressed. It reminded him of real babies when they hold fingers with an iron grip. “Be a good boy and let me have my arm back.. Carm. Carmen– give me–Oh god damn it! This isnt funny– give me my fucking arm!”

Things were quickly devolving into another wrestling match, Richie pushing, shoving, tugging, and cursing while Carmen did everything he could to keep his hand like it was a prized possession. Although while Richie was growing more aggravated, Carmy was starting to giggle quietly, his mind forced to be quiet when he had to focus on maintaining his grip and deterring Richie’s escape attempts.

“Oh you think this is funny? You think this is soooo funny! Listen to those stupid little toddler giggles.” Richie complained loudly, really playing up his annoyance while he wrestled around with him, making Carmy giggle more even when he tousled his hair in an attempt to distract him enough to loosen his grip. “Taking a man’s arm hostage is a low blow, kid! You’ve unleashed a Rich storm on yourself.”

He lightly shoved him into the car, making sure he wasn't actually being too rough now that he knew Carmy was enjoying himself and playing. But still hard enough that it seemed like he was putting up a real fight. Richard couldn’t be underestimated too much.

Carmy laughed as his back hits the side of the car then tries to turn in towards the back door to pin Richie's arm between his chest and the car. while he was successful in hiding his prized object just so happened to be attached to his biggest tormenter which meant Richie was also pulled much closer.

Richie didn't bother hiding his smile now, still annoyed with having his arm taken but it was hard not to have fun roughhousing with a playful toddler. With the new position Richie was pressed partially against his back, so he leaned around and pressed several dramatic kisses to his face before blowing raspberries on his cheek. Carmy squealed out quiet little ‘ewwws’ and turned his face away to escape the onslaught of yucky wet affection, rethinking his choice to trap himself against the car.

Still undeterred from their goals, Carmy’s grip stayed firm and Richie pivoted to his hail mary.

Tickling.

Tickling was a pretty intense offense against toddlers but he needed his arm back. They couldn’t stay out wrestling in the parking lot the rest of the night.

Using his free arm, Richie's fingers start to walk up from Carm’s hip, moving towards the little place on his side near the bottom edge of his ribs that had always been his most ticklish spot growing up. It took the kid all of two seconds to figure out what he was doing and where he was heading towards, his muscles already tensing up in anticipation.

“Nononono–” he mumbles around the pacifier he had by the grace of the chef gods not managed to drop yet even with all his laughing and Richie having forgotten to attach the clip to his shirt.

Richie chuckled in that playfully evil way at the sound of him protesting before his fingers had even found their target yet. Which turned to full snickering as Carmy squeals and squirms against the car door the moment his hand jumps to his ribs, poking and pinching lightly.

He was glad to see Carmy lighting up a bit from that dissociative state he was in minutes ago. He had been trying not to dwell on it, afraid that if he spoke up about it he would make things worse. He didn’t know what was going on in the kid’s mind most of the time and it was really hard to get Carmy to open up about things, especially when he was stressed or generally in a poor mood. And that honestly seemed to be nearly all the time recently.

He continued to tease and wrestle with him for a few more minutes, until he finally managed to slip his hand free, Carmy's grip having loosened as he tried not to pee himself from the tickling.

Fresh off his win, Richie holds his arms up and walks in a small circle for an imaginary crowd, cheering for himself. “Whoooh! That's right baby! No one can keep Richie tied down!”

Carmy continued giggling at first when he had slipped his arm free, finding his celebrating silly. But the mindless enjoyment fell through milliseconds afterwards, mild panic replacing it. He follows after Richie closely, reaching out for his hand, trying to take it back with little pitiful whimpers wordless whines. He looked a bit like a puppy trying to climb its owner to get to its tennis ball.

“Oh no you don’t. You had it locked down long enough. It’s time we get you in the car and on the road.” Richie kept his hand up and away from Carmy's outstretched fingers, using the other hand he seemed to have forgotten about to wrap around his waist. The touch catches his attention briefly, making him look down to see what was touching him.

Using this distraction the older of the two quickly swings his other hand down to scoop under his butt and lifts him up just enough to deposit him into the awaiting passenger seat. “Up you go, little bear.”

Carm makes a little noise of surprise and discomfort, looking at Rich with childish betrayal for tricking him– even though Richie believed he did nothing of the sort. He stretches the seat belt out and buckles him in, ruffling his hair once more then stepping back before Carmy could process things enough to go back to reaching for his hand. He closes the door on the pouting boy who quickly pressed his hands on the window while looking insanely dejected.

He was practically put in a prison. Strapped down with no way to get out and no bubba Richie to comfort him. He only had his paci in his mouth. He didn't even get a stuffie to hold instead of Richie's hand. And now bubbas was walking away from the window, totally disappearing from sight and ABANDONING him?! Was he that bad of a little boy?

Carmy was practically on the verge of tears within the few very short seconds Richie had taken to walk around the car to slide into the driver's seat. He turned the keys and reached for the radio, glancing over at the poor guy to ask what music he wanted to listen to only to be caught off guard with watery eyes. These mood swings were genuinely bewildering to him. He just couldn't keep up but he supposed Carmy couldn't help it when he mind was too little to probably process all the big, complicated emotions adult Carmy had been going through today.

“Woah! Woah.. what happened? I was only gone a second! Why are you crying, little man?”

Carmy sniffles and reached up to rub his eyes with his fist, babbling out words that his pacifier only made more incomprehensible. “Yew leff..! An I fought babah gone..evwer.. An ewver.. dike Cahair…cawse m’mean an douhn wan hole ands…!”

Someone really needed to make a toddler babble translation app because it took all of Richie’s dad skills to decipher what the fuck he was trying to say.

“You.. thought I was gonna leave you like Claire Bear cause… you're mean..? And you think I didn't want to keep holding hands? Is.. that it? Is that what you're trying to say, baby?” he repeats hesitantly, really hoping he was right because otherwise he would look like a jackass bringing up Claire. He lucked out, Carmy nodding his head and Richie was internally wiping away stress sweat from the mental gymnastics his ears had to go through to get to that conclusion.

“Buddy.. I wasn't leaving you. I had to get in the car too and.. We can hold hands again while I drive. I just had to get you to let go for a minute so I could get your stinky butt in the seat.” he reassures him, holding his hand out over the center console. Carmy stopped his aggressive eye rubbing to look down at his offered hand, hopeful about getting the comfort back. He glances at Richie's face once more to make sure he was being serious then nervously moves to take his hand. It was incredibly relieving to have it back. He almost couldn't remember why it upset him to lose it to begin with.

“Yeah. look at that. You're all good now. huh, champ? You're alright. You're chill.” Richie was watching him with a slightly pinched face as if he was waiting for him to start crying again or yelling or.. Who knows what the next emotion would be. But Carmy relaxed into his seat, pacifier lightly bobbing in his mouth as he intertwined their fingers and looked out his window, ready for the ride. “Yeah… s’all good now.” Richie murmurs, still confused about the emotional whiplash but choosing to once again ignore it. He’ll deal with things as they come. That’s the best you could do with kids.

Using their intertwined hands, he shifted gears and started to drive to his place to babysit his little cousin for the afternoon. It was a bit awkward but he made it work to keep Carmy content.

As they drove and Carmy’s little side made more of an appearance, he couldn't stop thinking that he secretly a little glad that Sugar had gotten so overly invested in Carmy’s regression since the little guy that was pointing at billboard signs and other restaurants, babbling nonsense about them would need better stuff than Richie’s apartment had to offer. But Sugar had prepared for emergencies and dropped off one of the ugly regression bags at his place around the same time she had stashed one at The Bear and Carmen's house. So hopefully this evening wouldn’t be too terrible.

#sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #agere paci #agere edits #sfw age regression #requests🧸✨#the bear fx #richie jerimovich #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #little!carmy #cg!richie #the bear agere #agere fic

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agerefandomstuff · 2 months ago

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Monster High Agere!

Baby Regressor! Frankie Stein

Car seat rides!!! She has so many silly loose limbs that she needs the extra protection in a car.

Baby Frankie and her ghoulfriends are heading to the mall when Draculara turns around from the front seat with Cleo and snaps a pic for her Critter account!

#sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #sfw age regression #monster high #monster high agere #regressor!frankie #frankie stein #baby frankie #this is all I got for scheduled posts #I did all those drawings in the same two days #back to working on requested fics

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agerefandomstuff · 2 months ago

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Agere Monster High!

Regressor/Baby Frankie Stein

That girl is 15 days old!! She is a baby! Let her baby!! I imagine her friends adore baby Frankie and flutter all over her with big smiles, sweet coos, and dress up.

#sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #sfw age regression #agere paci #monster high #frankie stein #baby Frankie #regressor!frankie #15 day old Frankie!#monster high agere #diapers #Cw diapers #if that bugs anyone

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agerefandomstuff · 2 months ago

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Monster High x Baby Bratz

Cleo de Nile and Deuce Gorgon!

#sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #sfw age regression #cleo de nile #Cleo DeNile #deuce gorgon #monster high agere #monster high #agere art #baby bratz #bratz #monster high x baby bratz #monster babyz #monster bratz

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agerefandomstuff · 2 months ago

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Monster High X Baby Bratz

Holt Hyde and Ghoulia Yelps!

#sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #sfw age regression #holt hyde #ghoulia yelps #monster high #monster high agere #agere art #baby bratz #bratz #monster high x baby bratz #monster babyz #monster bratz

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agerefandomstuff · 2 months ago

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Monster High x Baby Bratz

Clawdeen Wolf

#sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #sfw age regression #clawdeen wolf #monster high #agere art #baby bratz #bratz #monster high agere #monster high x baby bratz #monster babyz #monster bratz

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agerefandomstuff · 3 months ago

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Monster High X Baby Bratz

Abbey Bominable🩵❄️🐻‍❄️

#sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #sfw age regression #agere paci #abbey bominable #monster high #agere art #baby bratz #bratz #monster high agere #look I don’t know how to draw diapers or good anatomy yet #we’re working on it #monster high x baby bratz #what should we call it?#monster bratz #baby monster bratz #monster babyz

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agerefandomstuff · 3 months ago

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Hey!!! I absolutely LOVED your little soldier boy fic, there's no agere content for The Boys anywhere so it made me sooooo happy!!

I was wondering if you could write Little!Hughie and Cg!Butcher? If not that's perfectly ok dw!!! I love your work! Have a great day 🫶🏻

Temp V Hangovers–Sick fic

Cg!Butcher and Regressor!Hughie

Cw: cussing, the boys, mentions of puking/being sick but no in depth details, diapers, mentions of temp-v use.

a/n: sorry it's been so long. i promise ive seen all the requests in my inbox I've just had a bit of writer's block.

“Y’took temp-V again?” Butcher was pissed off. Truely and royally pissed off at Hughie for being as incredibly irresponsible as himself. Only he was allowed to ‘do what was necessary’ that might ultimately lead to his own demise as well as his enemies. Him and.. Any other supes that happen to be on their team. And maybe some civilians that accidentally become collateral. And.. maybe everyone if scorched earth turned as bad as him and Homelander wanted.

But not Hughie.

Hughie had to stay alive.

He was good. One of the genuinely last good things in this world and he wasn't about to let his little man give himself SuperCancer simply because the worst person he could've chose to look up to and admire did it. He was a terrible influence! Why doesn't he understand that? Everyone else in their lives have accepted it. He needs to hop on that shit-train as well.

“I don't want to talk about it–” Hughie whined, cheek resting on his arm to keep himself draped over the open toilet seat. The temp-v hangover was kicking his butt worse than any flu or cold he’d ever had. It was like his body was physically trying to remove every trace amount of the drug from his system by removing the system entirely. He swore he was going to actually vomit up his whole stomach with one of these heaves and leave him as hollow as a clay piece. He only hoped that he wouldn't shatter as easily as clay too.

“Y’should’ve thought o’ that ‘fore y’took it then, yeah? Cause now we have t’have the conversation!” He sounded like Annie. Hughie could usually count on Butcher to avoid tough conversations, usually doing everything he could to weasel out of facing the emotional repercussions he caused to others.

Hughie squeezed his eyes shut as his body tensed up with the next wave of pain that led to the nausea that was becoming unfortunately familiar. He made another little whine and turned his face into his arm more, half seeking comfort, half preparing if he were going to puke again.

“B..Butche– oh… unngck…” Hughie starts his complainant plea, a gurgled burp stopping him from putting too much energy into the attempt to argue.

Hughie had dropped hours ago after the first initial waves of temp-v payback had left him shamefully shoving himself into an emergency diaper between bouts of throwing up. which combined with everything else stressing him out had helped create the perfect storm for an impromptu regression.

He didn't mind diapers when he was regressed, they were something he had to grow used to when he first started age regressing but he grew to associate the two pretty heavily. Then Butcher started caring for him. And he had to relearn to not be embarrassed or ashamed of wearing them in front of other people… which felt a lot more difficult at the time. However now the only times he felt ashamed were.. Well… when he was big..and if incontinence carried over..which…today was.. Not going so great for him.

Butcher watched Hughie go green to flush then back to pale again, the dark circles under his eyes only making him look worse. He was really trying to stay strong here. Trying to keep viewing him as the same adult that made Butcher-sized bad decisions. Trying to keep being mad so he could finally maybe talk some sense into the little numbnut but…

The sight took him back to when him and Lenny were really young. Lenny had caught something going around the kindergarten class but their old man wouldn't take him to the doctor, simply saying he needed to quit being a weak cunt. So Butcher had pretended to take Lenny to school the next day, only to slip back inside the house while their parents had gone. They spent the day mainly in the bathroom just as Hughie had spent his. Although Lenny at least had Butcher to wipe off his face after each time he got sick and fed him some out of date meds he stole to help lower his fever along with some poorly made soup.

Butcher’s Lenny-sized hole in his heart was beginning to look more and more like Hughie everyday.

And while Hughie didn't really know it… it was the reason he both wanted to shake some reality into the idiot and keep him as close as possible while feeding him those cotton candy lies about everything turning out okay.

He sighs and rubs his face, the conflict inside of him aging him years in a few seconds. A recurring problem the poor guy had. At this rate he was going to be more wrinkles than man before he was legally declared an old fart.

“Yer not getting out of this. Y’here me?” Butcher gives him a hard look that Hughie couldn't take serious with how the caregiver’s ‘grumpy’ tone had become softer than his earlier angry one. That was his own headspace coming to town. The Party Pooper town of Vomitville. Whoopie.

“Yer still gonna geit yer ass chewed later but… i suppose i cant harp on a little bloke when he’s already suffering.” he kneeled down beside him after wetting a washcloth in the sink and lifted his face away from the disgusting toilet–honestly though with the places they stay at… it wasn't any worse off than it was before.

“Yeah..yer sufferin all right..startin to smell like y’got the same job as me finally..” He murmurs as he gently wipes off the kid’s face and neck, getting all the gunk, sweat, and tears off to expose the cutie underneath again. “Don’t think y’girl will appreciate that very much.” He tugs off Hughie’s soiled shirt and tries to be playful with the way he slides him over the floor to change him but with how funky Hughie’s mind was with being sick and regressed he ends up just smacking his head on the floor..

Butcher grimaces, giving an internal “oops,” before patting his cheek and lying to help keep the tears away. “Oi…what happened huh? What’re these tears for? We don need them none with daddy here, do we? Nooo.. see im here to make your wicked fuck up– hangov... Ick– Yeah. yeah! Here to help yous with ya icky bod.”

Hughie looked up at him with shiny eyes, a part of him struggling to follow along with the story Butcher was trying to weave into something more digestible for a kid’s brain but also finding it easy to relax to his voice alone. He didn't have to understand everything anyway. He was little and littles didn't always understand things.

So to the older man’s luck he nodded and tried to keep his tears at bay even while the back of his head throbbed a bit. He even laid really still for his whole diaper change despite how long it took Butcher with all his complaints and shoddy skills. He really did wonder why his daddy never seemed to get better at diaper changes when he could usually put them on himself really easily.

Maybe it was because Butcher didn't really want to be a daddy. Maybe it was because Butcher was better being a big brother and brothers don't usually change diapers. Do they? He wasn't sure. He hadn't ever had a caregiver like Butcher before. Annie’s caring dynamic was different from Butcher’s.. but Robin had been different from Annie.. So maybe–

“--kid. Buddy. Hughie are you in there? Didja doze off on me or did the V get your brain?” while he said it lightheartedly, there was concern hidden behind his tough exterior shell. Hughie had zoned out long enough that Butcher had checked his temperature, finished changing him, wiped him down again, washed his own hands, and checked for a pulse.

“Hm?” Hughie glanced down at the fingers on his wrist then back up at him, he was starting to feel less nauseous and more exhausted… also hungry. But not hungry enough to eat real food. Or even those yummy baby puffs Butcher would dump out on a table or a play mat for him to scatter feed like a duck. “Mm..buh..ahmmn..” he babbles quietly in his attempt to grasp real words, “..bodd.. Bo..bble..”

With shaky tired arms he reaches up towards Butcher, not having the energy to walk anywhere on his own without getting dizzy and sick again. Butcher gives a deep old man sigh and slowly bends over to scoop him up. Kid was real lucky he was strong and had more pity for Hughie being sick than his own poor back because a 6’1 baby was NOT what he would call light lifting.

Regardless of how ungentle his caregiver was picking him up he still got dizzy and groaned in complaint until he cradled his head close to his chest, stabilizing his equilibrium better while he made the short walk to their makeshift bedroom. Which… was the couch with some curtains acting as a door between them and the actual bedroom M.M. was begrudgingly sharing with Frenchie… and Kimiko. MM hated these types of temp bunkers. They were terrible for his ocd but one of his main complaints was actually about how inadequate they were for kids like Hughie.

That fatherly concern meant he was kind enough to stock the kitchenette for everyone during their stay.

Butcher passed through their space into the kitchenette to peruse through the cupboards, grabbing the cartoon superhero themed bottle his boy had asked for. He bought it for him after seeing how sad he had been over not having any of his old comfort items… the ones that used to be a Seven themed and any of his other favorite real supes that all turned out to be god awful people.

So when he casually saw the non-descript cartoon knockoff he figured..it wasn't as bad as the shoddy people it was trying to emulate. cause the 2D shit wasn't real. It also meant he wouldn't have to buy a Starlight themed one which would make both Butcher and Annie cringe.

But now he had to figure out what to actually fill the thing with. Milk would probably go sour in his stomach with the lad being as intolerant of lactose as he was of supes. Tea was always a dodgy try with little Hughie, he either wanted whatever Butcher was drinking or his american blood tried to physically reject it from his body. And his body had done enough ejecting today. so that left him with the only other thing in the cupboard the brit knew how to chase off the sickies with. Good old broth.

It took a little bit for him to actually make it since he had to juggle holding Hughie in his arms and boiling water in this poor excuse for a kitchen..ette. But he managed to heat too much, making a mess of pouring it into the bottle and nearly burning them both in the process.

After earning a lot of grumbles and groans from Hughie with all the mucking about, he finally finished getting the bottle made and carried Hughie to their “room,” eager to rest his bones on their temporary bed.

He collapsed on the couch with a big relieved groan, the little bloke in his lap squirming as his stomach clenched as if an angry fiery hot fist was wrapped around it. Meanwhile he still hadn't been properly redressed after being cleaned up in the bathroom leaving his skin decorated with goosebumps from the cold room.

“Ennh.. feel.. ouch..y..” Hughie whimpers into Butcher’s shirt that he’d also grabbed a fistful of to tug on while he whined. “Can.. m..muh..eds..? T’feel...bedder..?”

“Ain’t got any meds t’make this one go way, son. Y’did a number on yerself an y’just gotta..” he looked down at his scrunched up face, tears in the corner of his eyes from all the discomfort and his grumpy wall gave way to pity again. “Alright.. I ain’t much of a Doctor but I’m sure i can wrangle up a prescription that would rival just about anything Frenchie could cook up fer ya.”

He readjusts them on the cushions, reaching out to grab a loose sweatshirt from the floor first to wrangle Hughie’s arms and head into then grabs the bottle of slightly cooled down broth along with the kids’ ipad the boys got for Hughie. It had a big blue rubbery case around it and had been dubbed the “iPirate” for all the shows and games M.M. downloaded onto it.

“Here we go. Prescription jammies, broth, and some word..cunt. Whatever that cartoon gal is you like. Everything you need to heal from dumbass choices.” Hunkering back down, Butcher handed him the bottle which he hesitantly sniffed at before bringing it to his lips only to pause.

“Wordgirl.” Hughie corrects, somehow having the energy and vocabulary for correcting Butcher on his nerd stuff even when he felt his worst or smallest. “Y..know..s’Wordgirl. Y’jus like sayin cunt.”

“Yeah..yeah..” Butcher murmurs with a little smile as he puts the cartoon on. He absolutely knew the name of the little fake superhero. But he liked teasing his boy and getting a sweet reaction out of him. That was his secret fourth part of his prescription to help Hughie feel better; affection.

Butcher holds the tablet with one hand while his other starts to gently rub little circles on Hughie’s back while he starts to drink from his bottle, pleasant warmth filling this body and helping soothe the raw burning in his throat from being sick as his caregiver’s hand soothed his tensed muscles externally.

Sure he would likely be chastised pretty terribly later when he felt better and would be mentally bigger… which would likely bleed over to some sort of punishment for the next couple days every time he was little… but.. For now he would pretend that he hadn't done something he wasn't supposed to and enjoy recovering with Butcher.

#agere fandom #age regression #requests🧸✨#the boys agere #the boys #tw the boys #the boys fanfic #regressor!hughie #cg!butcher #hughie campbell #billy butcher #the boys tv #sick fic

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agerefandomstuff · 4 months ago

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Before

After

#see how blurry the original was?#I tried screen shotting the actual scene and couldn’t get what I wanted #someone reassure me this was okay to do #or yell at me #which ever is more morally right #sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #sfw age regression #agere paci #agere edits #regressor!lottie #repost #princess and the frog #princess agere

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agerefandomstuff · 4 months ago

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This started as needing a break from writing. But I couldn’t find a clear version of this picture I wanted to edit so I simply decided I would just make it clear myself.…. By convincing myself that I can retrace the screen cap.

Because well… I’m not trying to reinvent the wheel here! I’m just trying to edit a pacifier on the wheel.

Also it’s Disney so the morals here are dubious anyway.

However that whole debacle then turned into adding a stuffie which meant changing the hand position which then somehow lead to making a whole new outfit. Bc regressor Lottie deserves to have a pretty ruffle butt onesie—

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agerefandomstuff · 4 months ago

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Hii!! Love your headcannons!! Could i maybe request some cg!benny laffite from spn headcannons? i love him so so much! Tysm!

Cg!Benny!!

–He was really lost there for a while. After Dean and the incident with his great-great granddaughter he… he just didnt know what to do with himself. He didnt have anyone and he didnt know what he was.

–his mind was a bad shape and he was simply floatin along where the current would take him.

–so becoming a caregiver was a lifesaver for him

–it gives him a purpose. Something to put his mind to and not waste all the hard work it took to get out of purgatory and the gift of rebirth Dean gave him.

–Whoever gets the joy of being his regressor/little more or less becomes his life. He dotes on and protects them with his very being.

–His camper was a bit cramped at first but he made it work until he decided to get a slightly bigger one that way when it rained and such playtime could continue without having a muddy mess to clean up afterwards

–not that he dont find it cute to watch em go splash around and make mud pies like he use to do as a kid but.. It's hard to bathe little kids in a cramped camper bath.

-although he still manages to make that fun as well.

-He discovered bath crayons and likes to draw things in the bath with them

-also bath toys are mainly boats and lil fish

–Calls his kid “lil gator,” “Jelly Roll baby,”(jelly roll morton reference) his very own “Cajun Kid,” is that too on the nose for Louisiana? Probably but he's learning about all the history that's happened since he was gone so he’s allowed to be a little cringy. Also anything sounds nice in his quiet tone and accent.

–he’ll give them sippy cups to drink while he’s sippin on his own B negative blood bag.

–a good southern cook. He was good before he worked at the Guidry Cajun Cafe but Elizabeth taught him a few more recipes and really helped tune up his decades of rustiness.

-he makes their plates with those animal themed divider plates

–He switches their sleep schedule if he can to fit his own sun-aversion which means his kiddo gets mistaken for being a vamp too sometimes

–late night boat rides with flashlights to hunt for shining gator eyes and whatever else is out there.

-its nice to have the opportunity to reclaim his love for the water and share something special with them instead of only thinking about his pirating days when he goes out on the water

–hes proud to introduce his kiddo to Dean and while it took the hunter a while to wrap his head around the dynamic he never expressed anything but happiness for his buddy. He could see how much it meant to him. He looked lighter as well.

–Dean is the only one that he’ll allow to babysit if it ever came to it

–Diaper changes, baths, colds, brushing teeth, ileostomy care/anything else. None of it really bothers him. Cleaning up is just one of those things that needs to get done. And if it’s necessary/he has to do it he’ll do it. No problem.

–Didn't realize how touched starved he had gotten until he experienced his kiddo climbing into his lap, exhausted from playing. They just.. Laid against his chest and fell asleep while he reclined in his lawn chair, drinking, and listening to the night.

#sfw agere #agere fandom #sfw age regression #age regression #requests🧸✨#agere headcanons #age regression headcanons #spn agere #spn #spn headcanon #benny lafitte #cg!benny #agere supernatural #supernatural #supernatural age regression #supernatural agere #agere caregiver #caregiver headcannons

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agerefandomstuff · 4 months ago

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Hello! If your taking requests, could you please write some cg!soldier boy headcannons? Particularly for a babyspace regressor? I know he doesnt seem like the cg type, but hes my comfort character lol!

Tysm, your awesome!!!!

Cg!Soldier Boy for Babyspace!Reader

A/N: Have I ever said how much I love grumpy old men? They make good caregivers with all their teasing and hard exterior.

–“It shouldn't be that hard. What did babies do anyhow besides shit, piss, and sleep?”

–He learns it's a lot more fun to look after a baby regressor than he ever thought.

–Laughs when you repeat or babble cuss words he says.

–Puts a little rum on your pacifier when you're being fussy. “What? It's what my old man did.”

–He's clearly not a responsible adult but he’s keeping you. And you're stuck with him. No one can keep you safer than him.

–Plays his movies with you in his lap and spends the whole time talking. But it doesn't matter because you don't understand any of it anyway. You just like the moving pictures.

–He bought you a fancy handcrafted crib with his Vought salary but does he put you in it often? No. You're cuddling with him in bed.

Unless he has gals over. Then it's cuddle time with your blankies/stuffed animals/whatever it is you showed a passing interest in.

-he bought you them while complaining about it. “You like this crap? Seriously?”

-He might definitely use you to pick up ladies. Babies can be a chick magnet.

–Will take you everywhere without shame.

Photoshoots? You're there. Filming? Your right off camera. Walking the streets? You're on his hip. Driving in a military jeep to god knows where? He’ll put earmuffs on you so you don't cry over the loud noises and keep you in his lap the whole time. The meetings out in tattered tents in war zones? He sits you down beside him and lets you play in the dirt. He's as much tethered to you as you are him.

Is he supposed to be taking you to some of these places? No. but he’s the original supe. He's Soldier Boy. He can do what he wants.

-"The fuck you lookin at, punk? Babies need the constant attention. And I’m not about to leave em in the hands of some weakass babysitter.”

-You've gotten used to cigar smoke in your face and gruff, angry voices as a side effect of always being around him.

–Generally a grumpy old man who will lie straight through his teeth about how much he loves and adores you so he doesn't seem vulnerable. also because it's funny.

-“This little shithead? Pfft. no. they're just riding my coattails.” buying you everything that reminds him of you. “Can't get em to leave my ass alone.” actively holding you on his hip. “I’m just protecting the useless little fart because they can't do it themselves.” bouncing you on his knees while at an interview on live television.

–He’ll swat you if you've been naughty but how naughty can babies actually be?

-If you cry he may internally rethink the idea of spanking but externally will tell you to man up.

–he plays up the dramatics if he has to change diapers. There's a good chance that if he pays for any kind of support from other people; it would be mainly to change diapers.

–Feeds you anything he's eating, or he can get you to eat. Should babies be having burgers and fries instead of.. Whatever else are they supposed to eat? He doesn't know. Or care. It started out as him being lazy but now it's just because it makes you and him happy when he’s hand feeding you things off his plate.

-he will feed you bottles though. If someone has already pre-mixed and put them in the fridge for him.

-that's a part of the bedtime cuddle routine. You laying over his lap, head against his shoulder, sleepily suckling away while he watches his movies or chats away with his soldier buddies/guests/gals.

–Frequently “forgets” to bring a diaper bag with him to most places because while toting his baby around is no big deal, being seen with what he thinks is a “woman’s item” is apparently too far.

-yeah that gets him in some sticky places sometimes. but plenty of fans (and overworked interns) are ready to help their favorite number one hero!

If we’re in modern day

–he makes a lot of passive aggressive comments about how “you better not get any ideas from my first failed seed.” or “if Homelander had me like you do he wouldn't have turned out the way he did. So you better feel lucky.”

–will watch modern cartoons with you with extreme confusion and plenty of complaints. (man nearly cost Butcher a new tv when he had to watch Trolls. You spent the time giggling at him because you knew his “violence” and “anger” towards the movie wasn't actually a real threat. Hughie didnt though. That poor guy was clinging to his geiger counter, nearly wetting himself.)

–"Well.. at least one thing didn't change...” he’ll murmur fondly while running his fingers over your face as you sleep.

–you help give him something to focus on when things aren't going well. You're a good anchor for him and he might admit that he does respect and appreciate what you do for him. Even though all you have to do is let him take care of you.

Extra: “You can't give a baby a weapon!” “They’re my baby and I can do what I damn well please– for christ sake… dont fucking chew on– take it out of your mouth right now!”

#sfw agere #agere fandom #age regression #requests🧸✨#agere headcanons #age regression headcanons #agere the boys #the boys agere #the boys headcannons #the boys #soldier boy #cg!soldier boy #regressor!reader #baby!reader

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agerefandomstuff · 4 months ago

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cg!butcher x little!readerrrr??? mayb reader is like a rlly ditzy bimbo and butcher kinda loathes them for it but reader regresses in front of him accidentally nd he kinda takes care of them n learns to love themmm >_<

Title: Clumsy Lil Idiot

Word Count: 1648

Description: Butcher doesn't know why he puts up with you. You're so... so stupid. Pretty, sure. But stupid. Yet he still finds himself taking care of you. Maybe it's because you're a light in his dark balmy life. or maybe it's cause he's worried one of these times those stairs are gonna finally actually take you out.

CW: the boys, scraped knees, mentions of drug use and weapons

A/N: Idiot is wrote with love every single time.

“You are the biggest, clumsiest idiot I've ever met.” Butcher grumbled out picking you up off the floor where you’d tripped and fallen, claiming you'd forgotten the last step was still broken even though you tripped over it every. Single. Damn. time.

He’d believed it the first few times. That you hadn't been looking, you hadn't seen it, your heels were too high, the information had simply slipped your mind with everything else going on… on and on. He came up with excuses for you or tried to accept the reasons you gave for why your ass landed sprawled out on the floor with a new bruise or scrape or hell–that one time you had even given yourself a bloody nose. Which should’ve reminded you well enough about that bloody step!

But no. Now he knew better.

You were an idiot.

A true and whole hearted idiot.

Who never watched where she was going and only survived this messed up, dangerous world by sheer luck and beauty.

And your beauty was truly one of the last things that was keeping him from snapping and banning you from following him around like one of those pampered shiny coat rat dogs that never learned to stop yapping because its dumbass owner never told you to shut up.

He was old, tired, and didn’t have the time to be babysitting another greenie besides Hughie when he was so focused on his missions. Yet here he found himself picking you up off the floor again and hauling you to the bathroom to patch up your knees while you blabbered on another excuse he'd liked heard a hundred times by now.

He hoisted you up by your waist onto the counter, a routine you were familiar enough with to know just when to give enough of a jump to help his aching old man muscles get you up there and you’d stashed your own preferred bandaids in the medkit. The medkit Frenchie bought specifically for you that you both decorated with stickers that Kimiko also added little cute doodles on.

“Can I have the Starlight bandaids today?” You asked him, peeking into the little container as he pulled out the alcohol wipes and neosporin.

“Y’outta them ones.” He grumbled, hating that he knew that without having to look.

You pouted slightly, frustrated you couldn't wear the bandaids you originally wanted. You liked wearing those ones when you knew you'd see Annie but they didn't make that design anymore since they got discontinued after… well. Everything that had happened with her.

You usually wouldn't get as upset over that as you felt now but.. Something was nagging in the back of your mind. Trying to ignore it, you settled for the second best option, “What about the pink rainbows?”

“Aye. Now stop swingin yer legs so I can clean em.” he brought down an alcohol wipe and began to clean your left knee first, not being very graceful as he did since he wouldn't usually even clean scrapes this minor on anyone but you’d complained enough that he’d been forced to learn how you preferred things. You suck in a breath of air at the stinging pain from the alcohol, whining quietly when he repeats the action to the second knee.

“Owww…” you complained, giving him a look that he promptly ignored in favor of wiping the goopy medicine over your knees. “Remember! Pink rainbows bandaids. Not the first one you grab. It has to be the pink rainbows today.”

Y’know… you weren’t a supe but sometimes he still wondered if you weren't sent straight to him from Vought’s lab as his own genetically engineered demon, meant to deter him from getting anything done by just inconveniencing him to death.

Once he was finally done putting all four pink rainbow bandaids on your knees you weren't complaining anymore, giggling quietly instead as you watched him take care of your boo-boos.

“Can you kiss them too? To make the ouchies better?” you hadn't ever asked him that before but.. He was already at knee level and did just about everything else you asked him to with your evil stair injuries.

“Do I look like a man that wants t’kiss your oozing cuts?” he grabbed your hand, tugging slightly to make you hop down but you didn't let go once you were down. Instead getting distracted by the way your skirt had bounced when you did.

“You make them sound icky! They're just scrapes.” you argued, bouncing in place while still holding his hand trying to make your skirt bounce with you again.

“If they're just scrapes y’wouldn't need some cheap lil kids’ plasters fer em eve’y day, now wouldja?” he watched with mild annoyance as you bounced around like an energetic little kid and giggled at… he had no idea. He had no clue what went on in your mind. He could only imagine it was like taking acid after getting a lobotomy. Weird colorful shit with no thoughts.

He sighed and rolled his eyes at your actions, moving to leave the bathroom whether you let go of his hand or not wasn’t the problem. Honestly it probably would almost be safer if he kept a hold of it in case you tripped again. Maybe then he could catch you before he’d have to fix you back up again today.

Your gaze lifted as you felt his hand tighten around yours and tug again, encouraging you to follow after him. With a happy little skip in your step. You just felt light enough that it felt right! Skipping and bouncing and giggling and holding his hand all felt right.

“Butcher, can I have a snack?”

“Y’think we keep snacks down ‘ere? Where? With the arse bombs or the anti-supe chems?”

“Well.. Frenchie always seems to be chewing on something.”

“Yeah. Cause he’s high. Fiend’s prolly got himself a pacifier ‘round ‘ere t’keep from grinding his teeth right down t’he’s gums.”

“A pacifier? Like a binky.. for babies?”

“Sure.”

“I have a binky too!” you proudly tell him, excited at the idea of sharing something in common with Frenchie. But Butcher didn't seem to share your enthusiasm, stopping dead in his tracks and looking at you with that kind of scary hard to read look he sometimes gave you when you said something really stupid.

“What could you possibly need a soother for? Actually… You know what I just remembered? I don't give a rat’s ass. Y’probably still suck your thumb n’ play with bath toys. Yer just that childish.”

He turned back around and kept walking, hardly leaving you any time to think about what he said before he’d stopped by the worn out couch to sit you down in hopes that you might stay put while he went to check on the others. Sticking with his comment he grabs a doll M.M. had just bought to repaint or something as an addition to the doll house he’d been consumed with, and hands it to you.

“‘ere. Pop this open and play with it till I’m back. Kay? Dontchu leave this area. I don't want to see y’go past this table, not a pigtail, a finger, not a tush. None of it.”

You look at the boxed doll with surprise at first, holding it like you weren't sure exactly what to do with it but then you really looked at it. And ohhhh man. That doll was calling your name.

A smile slowly broke out on your face as you broke the doll out of its confines. It was so pretty! It had curly hair and beautiful dark skin with roller skates with wheels that actually spun!! She came with a dog, a hairbrush, and extra clothes that made you squeal out of excitement.

Very quickly you’d become inraptured with your own game, having taken things off the coffee table to make makeshift scenes and places for your doll to go along with using a magazine to add more characters by tearing out parts of pages that had people. You were so invested in your play that you had yet to notice Butcher had come back after almost an hour, a small plate in hand of sliced bananas and apples with peanut butter.

He stood there for a while, watching you speak on behalf of the doll and paper people, giggling and squealing as you made them do different things. He should've been surprised by the sight. But as it is with the stairs. He simply wasn't surprised by your actions anymore. If anything he was relieved you’d listened to him. He’d shoplift you a hundred dolls if it meant he knew you'd happily stay put without getting injured by following him everywhere. Because when it came down to it. No matter how much you annoyed him he wanted you safe. There weren't many things around him that remain untouched by devastation.

And here you were. Proving how… pure and innocent you can be.

Butcher sets the plate on the coffee table without a word, stepping over your little world to crash onto the couch. He’d be content to simply sit here for a while and watch you play.

“Butcher look! Her name is Tisha and she's going to the party with Tom but Tom already promised Andrea he was taking her to the party!”

“That so? They gonna have t’brawl it out behind the pub over the stupid bloke?”

“They're gonna beat him up for two-timing them! Then they're gonna turn into fairies and–” you rambled on about your made up story, butcher adding in his two cents when necessary and leaning down to feed you an apple slice once in a while. He knew you’d been peckish after all and he needed to keep your energy up so he would be able to learn all of the lore of this world afterall.

#requests🧸✨#sfw agere #agere fandom #sfw age regression #age regression #agere the boys #the boys agere #william butcher #billy butcher #caregiver!butcher #regressor!reader #bandaids #dolls #bouncy skirts #fandom agere #agere fanfic

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