NFL Imagines

Nick Bosa

Title: Luckiest Kids in the World
Warnings: Large time skip and kids. This is just so much fluff

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Hurrying out of the bathroom, you nearly trip over your own two feet in your rush to find your fiancé.

He's standing in front of the full body mirror, fiddling with his hair. You aren't sure if he's actually doing much of anything to it or if he's just nervous. The sight makes you smile until he turns to look at you and you remember what you rushed into the room for.

"Do I look fine?" Is your first question, before you give a slow spin and press on. "How is my outfit? My face? At this point, I don't care if I look gorgeous or not, I at least want to be presentable. Do I look decent or—"

You're so engrossed in your rambling that you miss Nick crossing the short distance to you. A hand finds your waist, cutting off your rambles, and you glance up to see a soft smile.

"You look beautiful, babe," he whispers, leaning down to plant a short and sweet kiss to your lips. You melt into the places where his body meets yours and drag him down into another kiss.

"Rate me out of ten," you breathe against his lips, pulling back just enough to meet his eye and grin up at him.

He hums, never tearing his eyes from your face. "Eleven hundred. More beautiful than the sunrise, the sunset, the moon and the stars...Should I keep going?"

Your heart is going wild in your chest and you're momentarily lost at how to react. It's not abnormal for him to compare you to such things, but it never fails to render you speechless.

"As much as I would love for you to go on, I don't think it's necessary. I believe every word you said," you tell him, willing the heat in your cheeks to dissipate.

"What about me? How do I look?" He asks, stepping back to show off.

A smile plays at your lips. "Ninety seven."

He shoots an easy smile over his shoulder as he walks back to the mirror. "Ha, I see what you did there."

"I know you're going to win that award," you say, not far behind him. He stops in front of the mirror and you press yourself against his back, arms snaking around his waist.

"You really think so?"

Your head peers around his broad shoulder to meet his eyes through the reflection. "No, I know so. If you don't win, it's rigged."

"Other good defensive players exist, baby," he reminds you. "I'm not the only one."

You hum thoughtfully. "You're not, but you're the best one." Your lips press against his shoulder blade through the fabric of his dress coat and he smiles again.

"You're the best partner. I hope you know that. I hope I tell you and show you that enough," he whispers, sliding his big hands down your arms to rest atop yours.

Unable to resist a joke, you shoot back, "Have you met Kristin Juszczyk?"

Nick nods, pulling your hands apart to untangle himself from your arms. He twists around to face you, eyes soft and open. "She's great, but she's not as great as you. I couldn't have found a better person."

"You're making it sound like you found me on the side of the street," you tease, though your heart is beating a lot faster than it should be. The speed doubles when his hands come up to cup your face and make you hold his gaze.

That irresistible smile you adore hasn't gone away. You couldn't look away if you tried. "Love at W Woodruff and Tuttle Park," he breathes, making you roll your eyes.