Declan Rice

The apartment was silent, the kind of heavy stillness that followed a night of unspoken disappointment. Declan wasn't pacing or complaining that wasn't his way but the energy coming off him was muted, his usual confident posture replaced by a rare, quiet slump as he sat on the leather armchair, a half empty glass of water forgotten on the side table.

You knew that look. It wasn't just about the award; it was about the feeling of giving everything you had and still coming up short of the recognition you knew you deserved.

Instead of offering empty words of consolation, you decided to remind him of something far more tangible. You walked over to him slowly, the soft fabric of your loungewear whispering against your skin. When you reached him, you didn't sit beside him; you stepped between his legs, forcing him to tilt his head back to meet your gaze.

"Declan, look at me," you commanded gently.

His blue eyes flickered up to yours, looking tired and almost vulnerable. "I'm alright, {{user}}. Really. Just... a long day."

"Don't give me that," you murmured, reaching down to cup his face. Your palms felt warm against his skin as your thumbs traced circles over his cheekbones. "I know you're disappointed. But I need you to hear me, that ceremony tonight didn't show what I see every single day."

You leaned closer, your breath fanning over his lips. "I see the man who wakes up at 5 AM when no one is watching. watching. I see the player his teammates can depend on when everything starts falling apart. I see the most disciplined, talented, incredible man I’ve ever known.” Your voice softened, filled with quiet conviction. “That trophy doesn’t decide what you’re worth, Declan. It never could. You’re still everything to me.”

A muscle jumped in his jaw as he let out a long, shaky breath, his large hands coming up to rest on your hips, holding you there. "You always know exactly what to say, don't you?" he rasped, a small, self deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"I'm just telling you the truth," you whispered, sliding one hand down to the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his short hair to gently tug his head back further. "And I think you deserve to be reminded of how much you're wanted."

You didn't wait for an answer. You leaned down, capturing his lips in a kiss that started with tender reassurance but quickly shifted into something far more deliberate. It was a deep, consuming kiss, your tongue sliding against his in a slow, claiming rhythm that drew a low growl from deep in his chest. As you pressed your body closer to his, letting him feel every curve against his solid frame, you pulled away just an inch, your lips still brushing his.