Just Hold On-A Louis Tomlinson Ageplay Story

Chapter 36

"Make it better, Daddy." His voice is pleading, sounding almost exactly like a toddler, and Liam and Harry, as well as Niall who has just stumbled into the kitchen, can't help but smile a little, because one of their goals has been accomplished.

Louis' POV

Papa sits down at the table with me on his lap when Daddy tells him to, and Dada sits across from us, looking really sleepy.

This all feels so weird. I kind of feel like I'm floating. A rational part of brain says that I'm acting utterly ridiculous, but a bigger part tells me to just let it happen. It's almost like I'm watching myself act little, and it's kind of fun. I could let myself go farther, go completely little, but I'm not ready for that. I want to keep a certain amount of control, even if I'm not exercising it at the moment.

"Louis, I need to touch your wrist, okay, sweetheart?" Daddy says, pulling out a chair to sit by me and Papa. "It's going to hurt, but I need you to stay still. It's okay if you need to cry, I know it won't feel good." I nod, and reach out my arm to him. He lays it on the table between us, and I flinch a little at the coldness and the jolt of pain. "Oh, that looks really painful, love," Daddy hums, running a couple of fingers gently down my wrist. "Can you wiggle your fingers for me?" I do, whimpering a bit because it hurts slightly.

"Does that hurt, boo?" Papa asks.

"Li'l bit" I say, shrugging. It does hurt, but not a lot. I think it hurts more because of the almost-headspace than it would normally.

"I don't think it's broken, Haz. It would hurt a lot more if it was." Daddy says. "Lou, I'm so sorry sweetie. I'm going to push on your arm, and it's going to hurt a lot." I try to brace myself, but nothing could prepare me for the pain that goes shooting up my right arm.

"Daddy!" I almost scream, and start crying. "Hurts!" I'm a little out of breath too, and I don't like this feeling at all. I pull my arm off the table, holding it close to my chest, and turn on Papa's lap, burying my face in his shoulder. I don't want Daddy to touch my arm if he's going to hurt it. I want him to make it better, not worse.

"Boobear, you've got to let Daddy look, hon. He's going to help, but he has to touch to know how he can make it better."

"No, it hurts!" I'm being stubborn, I know, but I don't want it to hurt. But Papa just turns me around and holds my right arm down on the table, being gentle and not making it hurt too much. When Daddy starts pressing again, I try not to scream, but let the tears stream down my face.

"Li...stop." Dada speaks for the first time all morning, reaching across the table to grab Daddy's arm.

"What, Ni? I know it's hurting him, but I need to know what's wrong."

"His lip."

What? My lip? What's wrong with it? I lick my lips and taste blood. Huh. Where'd that come from?

"He was biting it, I think so he didn't scream." Oh. Maybe I was. Maybe that's why I managed not to scream this time. Come to think of it, my lip does hurt.

Daddy runs his thumb gently over my lips. "Oh, sweetie, don't do that to yourself. Ni, do you think we could try...?" He trails off. What's he talking about?

Dada gets up and leaves, and Papa pulls me closer for a tight hug.

"Oh, love. You're alright. Just a bit longer, then we can get you feeling all better. Can you stop crying for me boo?" I snuggle into him, enjoying the cuddles, until Dada comes back, this time standing behind Daddy's chair.

"One last time, Louis. I'll try to be gentle, but do you want to try a dummy? You don't have to, but it might help distract your mouth so you don't scream or hurt yourself." I nod. I don't see the harm. I know I got upset yesterday, but that was different. Today I want the comfort, and I want to make them happy.

Dada reaches out a hand and slips the rubber object into my mouth. It feels weird, I'm not used to having anything in my mouth other than a cigarette or food, and it tastes a little plasticky, but it's okay.

"Okay, love. Last time, I promise sweetheart." Daddy takes my wrist again, pressing in various places, and it really hurts. Tears are streaming down my face, but I don't make a sound, just sucking really hard on the dummy. Surprisingly it helps, not really to make me feel better, but at least to keep me from biting my lip unknowingly. "I'm done now. You did good, boo. I'm proud of you. I know that hurt, hey?"

"Yeah. Make it better now?" I don't want it to hurt anymore. It's sore and when I move it the pain spikes.

Daddy chuckles. "Alright Lou. I'm going to grab you some ice, and maybe Dada can grab the first aid kit. I think we need to wrap this up a bit."

He and Dada go to get the things they need, and then he wraps my wrist in a stretchy bandage. It hurts a bit, but not too bad, and then putting the icepack on helps a lot.

"Good job sweetheart. What do you want for breakfast?"

I shrug. I haven't thought about food yet, but I guess I am hungry.

"How about a smoothie, little one? I think you would enjoy that." Dada suggests, already moving, I assume to make it.

Breakfast is good, and easy, because they let me drink it with a straw while sitting on Papa's lap. I'm still on TV ban from yesterday, so we spend the morning colouring and playing hide and seek. Daddy and Papa end up going out right after lunch, so Dada is left to put me down for a nap.

"So, Lou, are you sleepy? It's naptime." I am, but I don't want to admit it. I've been good all day, I can be a little stubborn now.

"No!" I giggle, and try to break free of his arms where we're cuddling on the couch.

"Louis, it's time to sleep, little one. You've been so good today." I stifle a yawn, then try again to free myself, but accidentally push too hard with my right arm, and hurt my wrist again.

"Dada! My wrist!"

"Oh, love, you've got to be careful. Let's get you a bottle of warm milk, and an icepack. Do you need a change before you go to sleep?" I shake my head. I have to wee, but I haven't wet my nappy all morning. I guess I should, but I really don't want to. I'm not in the mood to get changed. "Boo, you can't hold it in all the time. It's not good for you." I bury my head in his shoulder, not wanting to talk about it. He sighs, then lifts me up. It seems like he's getting better at carrying me; at the beginning of the week I hardly ever got carried by Dada, but now he does it a lot. He warms a bottle of milk in the microwave and pulls out an icepack from the freezer, then brings me to my bedroom.

"Shall we cuddle first, little one?" he asks, and I nod, still unwilling to go to bed, despite how tired I'm starting to feel. I'm not sure how I feel about this napping thing. I don't like the idea of needing to nap every day, but right now all I want is sleep.

Dada sits down in the recliner that Daddy and Papa dragged into my room the other day, arranging the icepack on my wrist before starting to feed me the bottle of warm milk. I relax into his arms, savouring the flavour and the coziness, as I quickly drift off to sleep.

Here's a longer chapter to make up for the shortness of yesterday's.

The other day I wrote two and a half chapters for the future, because I had some really good ideas, but we have to get to that point first.

Hope you enjoyed it! I tried to make it fluffy, but I'm not very good at writing just plain fluff without any plot, so this is what you get.

I also tried to give you a glimpse into Louis' thoughts, but I don't know if I did a very good job. Basically, he's not entirely sure what to think, so it's supposed to be a bit confusing...

Thanks for all the votes and comments!