Nash Grier Preferences/Imagines

➰Cramps➰

"Fucking owwww," you moan, clutching your stomach in agony. You cover your mouth with your hand almost automatically, knowing Nash is next door recording a video for youtube.
You are sprawled out on the sofa, trying to get comfortable, when you feel that horrible wall of nausea hit again. You clamp your hand over your mouth as you gag, sprinting to the bathroom, ready to throw up with the pain. You let it loose, not able to contain the noise.
"Babe?!" You hear a worried Nash jogging to the bathroom. "Babe, are you alright?!"
"No," you moan, your head still in the toilet. "Not alright."
"Aw, sweetie," He sighs, tying back your hair. He feels your forehead, the cool of his hand feeling great on your warm skin.
"Why didn't you call me?" He asked softly.
You rested your head on your hand, your elbow resting on the toilet seat. "I knew you were recording." You murmur.
"Y/N, that doesn't matter," he chuckles, a deep rumble in his voice.
You groan, another wall of pain. You clutch your stomach.
"Haven't you taken any painkillers?"
You shake your head. "Couldn't... Move..." You say, pathetically.
He sighs. He retrieves the aspirin and water, holding them out to me. "Here."
"Thanks babe," you reply.
You take it gladly, and rinse your mouth out, but sigh. "Im sorry Nash, Im being so fucking pathetic right now..." You mutter, face palming.
"You aren't," He smiles. "You're allowed to be like this, this time of the month."
You roll your eyes. "Whatever, Grier."
He smirks.
"Bed?" You ask hopefully.
"Sure baby," He says, sweeping you off of the bathroom floor. He lifts you with ease, watching you as you nestle into the crook of his neck. "You smell good." You compliment sleepily.
He laughs and kisses you on the forehead. "Whatever Y/N." He retaliates.
He plops you softly on the bed, and gives you one of his t-shirts to wear, which he knows you love. He makes you coffee and hot water bottles, rubbing your abdomen when it hurts. And to distract you, he lets you blab about your problems, even though he's just too busy staring at you, wondering how he got so lucky