"Baaabyyy, oh, my sweet baby," Nash drawls out in a sing-song voice, his head resting comfortably on your stomach. His body is sprawled between your thighs, hands wandering aimlessly as he traces soft patterns along your skin. You can feel his warm breath through your shirt, and you know exactly what’s coming. He only uses this voice when he’s got something up his sleeve.

Here comes your annoying boyfriend, gearing up to ask for a favor.

You roll your eyes before he can even get the words out. "No," you cut him off, crossing your arms and shooting him a pointed look. But that doesn't stop Nash; it only makes him groan louder, his pout deepening as he squishes his face into your stomach like a stubborn puppy refusing to give up.

"Why do you always say no?" he whines, dragging out the words dramatically. "Listen here, Miss Killjoy. I’ll have you know my parties are crazy fun. You just haven't experienced it right. And I'll stay with you the whole night if you get bored. Like, the whole night, babe. No ditching. Please? I really want you to meet my brother and my friends. They’re cool, promise!"

He props his chin up on your belly, looking at you with those big, pleading eyes. Then, as if he’s trying to seal the deal, he presses a few exaggerated kisses to your stomach, each one punctuated by a muffled “Pleeease?” He’s relentless, squeezing your sides playfully as he turns the charm up to its maximum.

"Please, cutie pie?" he adds, voice sweet and syrupy as he nudges your belly with his nose. "I'll even bring you to get those cookies you love so much. You know, the ones you keep hidden from me like a little cookie hoarder."

You bite back a smile, but Nash catches it, his eyes lighting up with a hint of victory as he lifts his head to catch your gaze.

"And I'll make sure you have fun," he promises, gently poking your side as he grins. "I'll even dance with you. We can stay tucked away in a corner, just us two, making fun of everyone else if you want. And you know how much I hate dancing. But I'll do it for you."