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libraryofloveletters · 8 months

Text

Team Colours

Virgil Van Dijk x Fem!Reader

Warnings: takes place during the 22/23 season, virg is lowkey annoying sometimes lmao, jordan cameo cause he’s still there, little bit of man city slander, some softness, darwin and reader are besties on the lows, a dirty joke from darwin if you squint, no hate to man city but big virg was not having it, google translated spanish, the end is cheesy lmao

Word Count: 4.5k

Author’s Note: okay so this had been sitting in my notes for a while and it seems fitting to finally finish it seeing that we now have captain virg <33

---

The Manchester derby starts in four hours and your best friend was complaining about having to make yet another stop. “Shut up,” you huffed when you pulled into the parking lot. “Mum forgot her keys, I can’t leave her locked out of the house.”

Your mum had forgotten that you’d be out all afternoon and didn’t bother to pick up her keys that morning, hence the stop to the AXA training centre. The keys fished out of your purse as you got out of the car and Olivia shouted your name, stopping you in your tracks.

“Where do you think you're going?” She called from her spot in the car, you looked back at her in utter confusion.

“You were just complaining that we’re late and now you’re stopping me?”

“You can’t go in there, with that on.”

The baby blue jersey fit you perfectly and it took you a moment to register what she meant. She's right, you can’t walk into a Liverpool building with a Manchester city jersey on; talk about committing a cardinal sin.

Olivia tossed her sweater to you, watching you pull it on before walking into the building. Every time you came, you ended up turned around. The place was massive and you didn’t come by often so it was easy to get turned around. The last time, you went looking for the bathroom and ended up in the kitchen - you weren’t sure where you took the wrong path but you did find it eventually.

Per usual, you stood in the front foyer completely lost. It had been a while since you were there and you were in a bit of a rush - your best friend wanted to see her boyfriend, none other than Manchester City’s Ruben Dias of course, and seeing that it was a derby, the roads are gonna be a mess.

You were trying to get in and out as fast as possible.

“Is that who I think it is?!” The loud voice caught your attention, causing you to turn around.

“Andy!” You smiled, giving the man a hug. The two of you had met a few times, he was always welcoming and so so soooo funny.

The man eyes the sweater you’ve got on, “I know we have the AC on but surely, it’s not that cold.” He laughed and you glanced down at your hoodie. “Oh, I wasn’t feeling too well earlier so I pulled it on,” you fibbed.

Andy shrugged it off, “you looking for someone?”

“My mum, she forgot her keys again.”

He laughs, it’s not the first time you’ve been in to drop off the keys she’s always forgetting. “She should be in her office; head up the stairs, go left at the top and through the back doors and down the other stairs and then past the gym. She’ll be there.”

The directions come out insanely fast, between that and Andy’s thick Scottish accent, you understood about 3 words.

“Oh okay, yeah. Thanks Andy.”

“No worries, y/n. Have a nice day!” He calls, waving you off as you head up the stairs.

After going left at the top of the stairs, you must have taken a wrong turn or went through the wrong doors because you’re almost certain you were in the middle of nowhere. It’s an empty hallway, the windows overlooked the back parking lots and it felt as if it was 400 degrees in there.

Your phone is somewhere in one of the pockets you had, your hands rubbing over your sides to find it but you’re so flustered, you couldn't stand to keep the hoodie on anymore. Unzipping it, you fanned yourself with your hand.

“Hey,” someone calls from behind you and you turn, looking up slightly to see the tall man across from you. “You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, just a bit lost I think.”

“Looking for someone or something?”

“My mum.” You say and Virgil walks over, a bit confused as he waits for you to tell him who your mom is. “She works in player communications, her name is -”

“Jane, your mum is Jane.”

“Yeah, that’s her.”

The man looked at you a bit puzzled, you weren’t sure what it was he was trying to figure out. You knew you didn’t exactly look like your mum but there wasn’t that much as dissemblance that he would be this confused.

You jut your chin towards him, giving him back the same puzzled look. “What?”

“Why are you wearing that?”

Once again, you find yourself looking down at your outfit. The hoodie was unzipped, the blue jersey in clear view. If that wasn’t enough, the Manchester City crest peeking out was the cherry on top.

“I'm going to the derby with a friend.” You tell him, pulling the sweater shut.

Virgil rolls his eyes, “could you have changed there?”

“Can you just direct me to her office?” You huffed, already annoyed. Virgil nodded towards the doors at the end of the hallway, following you as you walked towards the doors. “I hope it’s a good player at least.”

“Aguero,” you tell him, “it’s an old jersey.”

He nods in approval. “Third door on your left,” he pointed to the door that was now opening. Out comes your mum along with Jordan, the man thanking her for something.

“Oh hi darling,” your mum smiles when she sees you. “Jordan,” she rested her hand on his arm, “this is my daughter, y/n.”

“Oh hello,” he smiles, shaking your hand. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Good things I hope,” you chuckled, fishing the keys from your pocket. She takes them, putting them into hers. “Are you coming home tonight, darling?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, where would you go if not home?” She asked.

You shrugged, “I don’t know but I’m not 16 anymore, mum. I can come and go as I please.” Virgil chuckles, looking away when you glanced at him. She raises her hands in surrender, “fine, please call if you’re coming home or text to let me know if I should be expecting you.”

“Okay, I'll probably stay by Olivia’s cousin. I think we’re going out after the game.”

“Be safe,” she warns you and you nod.

“I’ll walk you out,” Virgil speaks, causing you two to look over. You hadn't even realized he was still there. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I'm heading out anyway.”

You hum, waving goodbye to your mum before following Virgil out the doors. It’s quiet as the two of you make your way through the building. The heat surrounds you when you step outside, you’re tugging off the sweater as soon as you’re out of the building. Virgil watches in amusement as you struggle to get it off.

As you’re about to walk away, the man grabs your wrist and pulls you back to him. “I don’t want to see you in that thing again.” He glances down at your blue jersey.

Your brows furrow, trying to figure out who gave him a sense of entitlement and control over your wardrobe. “Um.. okay?” You made a face, pulling your hand away from the man.

Virgil lets you go, watching as you get into the car. Olivia turns to you, brows pulled together as she glances out the window to the player in the parking lot and back to you. “What the hell was that about?”

“Nothing,” you look over to where he stood.

“Didn't seem like nothing.”

“It was nothing.”

---

Olivia and her cousin talked you into saying in Manchester last night, the three of you made a night out of it and headed down to the pub for drinks after the game. It wasn’t until the next morning around 9 that you returned home.

“Honey?!” Your mum called from the kitchen, “is that you?!”

“No!” You shout back, “a robber!” The woman laughs, shaking her head as you walk into the kitchen. You make a beeline for the fridge, searching for some sort of sustenance.

“Did you have fun last night?”

“Yeah, ended up going down to the pub after. Olivia and I are getting dinner tonight after getting some sleep and trying to revive ourselves.” You took a swing of the orange juice from the jug.

Your mother pulls her face into a grimace, “please use a glass.”

“Why? I came out of you, remember?”

“Sometimes I really wonder with you,” she huffed, shaking her head and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “Oh, that’s for you,” she nods towards the bag on the table.

“What is it?” You asked, putting the juice back into the fridge. Your mother shrugs, “no idea. Virgil dropped it off right as I was about to leave.”

“Virgil?”

“Yeah, you know.. the really tall guy?”

“Yeah mum, I know Virgil.” You laughed. “You’re telling me you didn’t look in the bag?”

“No, I didn’t,” she rolls her eyes. “He dropped it off and asked me to give it to you, so that’s what I did.” She glanced at the clock on the wall, “I have to go, I'm going to be late. Have fun at dinner if I don’t get home before you leave.” She kissed your cheek, shouting something about you smelling like a pub and to shower before the front door slammed shut.

You took her advice, heading up to wash off the previous night before coming back down to get something to eat. The bread’s in the toaster, you’ve given up your search for the eggs and settled on the butter your mum had left on the counter. You sat at the kitchen table, waiting for the pop so you could eat but instead, you got distracted by the bag.

You racked your brain trying to think of what he could have left for you. You reach into it, sticking your hand in to pull out two things, two jerseys to be exact. There’s the Liverpool away kit with the white and silver reflective pattern on it and then there’s one of their home kits, a big number 4 on the back. The name lined up perfectly above the number; Virgil.

You peeked into the bag to see if there was anything else and you found a piece of paper folded in half. The hand writing is scrawled like whoever wrote it was in a rush.

‘Y/n,

I hope you don’t mind that I dropped this off with your mum. I couldn’t bare to see you in that hideous blue jersey so I’m making sure that the next time I see you, you’re wearing something with some class.

I wasn’t sure what size you wore so I guessed, hopefully it’s okay. If not, feel free to swing by and I’ll make sure you get the right size.

Yours, Virgil.’

You huffed, “yours my ass,” you tossed the paper onto the table with the rest of the stuff. The toaster pinged, your toast was ready. Your phone buzzed on the counter, you got up to get your toast and read the text at the same time; you ended up burning your finger while reading the text.

From Mum: Forget some paper work on my desk, it's in a black folder. Can you bring it in?

To Mum: Just made me burn my finger but okay.

From Mum: How did you burn your finger?

To Mum: Toast.

From Mum: Okay can you bring it in?

To Mum: Sure, be there soon.

You rolled your eyes at her dismissal of your injury and ate your toast in peace, you eyed the white jersey on the table.

What’s the harm in wearing it? You already have it and what are the chances of you running in Virgil again? Probably a lot but you didn’t really care. You pulled it on over the tank top you had on, heading to your mum’s office to get the papers and head over to the training centre.

You get turned around again but you manage to find your way there a bit faster this time. You knocked on the door and she waved you in, you set the papers on the desk as she spoke to whoever was on the phone. “Oh yes, that’s fine, thank you.” She tells the other person before hanging up.

“Thank you,” she smiles at you, her brows furrowed and head tilts when she sees your jersey. Her finger points towards the white jersey you’ve got on. “That’s new.”

“Gift from Virgil,” you shrug and she tilts her head the other way now, the same look of confusion on her face. “I guess he wasn’t a fan of the City one I had on yesterday.”

“Ah,” she nods, setting her hand on the file you dropped off. “Anyways, thank you for the papers, oh and I’ll be home late tonight so lock up when you leave.”

You nodded, “sounds good, see you later.” You wave her off and turn to walk down the empty hallway once again. You were checking your phone, seeing if Olivia had texted when you bump into someone; you can’t help but think this empty hallway gets a lot of traffic. Looking up, you’re met with a smiling Virgil.

“Hello Virgil.”

His eyes flicker over you, lingering for a moment too long to just be friendly. “I see you got my gift, it fits.”

“Yes it does, thank you,” you glance down at the jersey. He nods, humming. “Well, I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You brows furrow, taken aback for a moment. You wonder if you missed a piece of the note he left. “Tomorrow? What for?”

“Aren't you coming? We’re playing at Anfield.” He tells you like this was a known fact to you.

You were still a step behind. “Okay..” You looked at the man with utter confusion on your face. “Let me look stupid for a moment but I have to ask, why would I be coming to your game? Not that I don’t want to but do you know how hard it is to get tickets ? Especially when you guys play at home?”

“You’re in my- wait you’ve tried to get tickets before?” The thought put a smile on the Dutchman’s face. You rolled your eyes at his happiness, “obviously not for myself. It was supposed to be a gift for my best friend but it's impossible to get tickets.”

His arm drapes over your shoulder, the man now walking with you in the direction of the exit. “So you didn’t want to see my pretty face?” He asks, his words sweet like honey.

You look over at him, eyes studying his face; from the birthmark under his eyes to the little beauty mark on the side of his nostril to the freckles along his cheeks. “Hmm, no.” You lift a shoulder, shrugging. Virgil can’t help the laugh, leaning back with his hand gripping to your shoulder.

“As I was saying before, your name is on the list for my box tomorrow. Feel free to come alone or with someone.”

“What if I don’t want to come ?”

“Then don’t.”

You smile, “I'm not rude so I will come.” You can see the smile on his face, you resist the urge to roll your eyes this time. “Wear my jersey, yeah?”

“It’s not enough for me to come?”

“No, plus you’d look cute in it.” He smiles at you, letting you go when you get to the front door.

“You should focus on your defending rather than what I'm wearing.”

The comment catches him off guard, his jaw hangs open for a second before he brings his hand up to his chest, shouting to you as you walk out. “You wound me!”

“That’s the point!”

---

Liverpool was playing the Spurs at Anfield and the match went as well as could be expected. 4-2 and that’s full time.

You were in Virgil’s box, a term that made you laugh on multiple occasions throughout the match. It was fairly empty up there, just a few of his friends and you. After the match, one of the girls from downstairs has told you that Virgil had asked for you, telling you to follow them downstairs.

Who were you to say no? You followed the girl, down the back staircase and into the tunnel before you ended up near the locker room. The girl leaves you there and you just sort of.. there. You aren’t sure if he’s going to meet up with you or if you should go look for him but before you could move, you hear the loud laughter that can belong to no one other than Andy.

“Y/n!” The man shouts, his arm over Darwin’s shoulder as the two of them make their way down the hallway. You smiled, “hey you two.”

Andy was asking what you were doing there and you told him that Virgil invited you. Darwin starts a conversation with you, telling you a story about his son.. in Spanish. Andy stood there confused for a minute, but when you started answering the man in Spanish, Andy was even more confused.

“You speak Spanish ?” He asked, his eyes wide, brows furrowed as he looked at you.

“Un poquito,” (a bit) you show him a little gap between your thumb and index finger. “I took a few classes in college.”

There’s a person coming around the corner, the shadow was tall and his footsteps were heavy. “What’s going on here?” Virgil asks and you shrug, “nothing that concerns you.”

Darwin glances between you and Virgil, his hand on your shoulder. “Asegúrate de no ahogarte esta noche.” (make sure you don't choke tonight.)

You can’t believe what he just said, you knew what he was referring to. “Darwin! ¿Por qué dirías eso?” (Why would you say that?) You laughed.

Andy and Virgil exchanged a glance, clearly the two of them were missing a piece of the puzzle. Darwin raises his hands in surrender, the two of you laughing when you swat his hands away. “Vete a casa,” (go home) You tsk, Darwin flashes you a smile as he walks into the locker room.

Andy turns to the two of you, “so I'll leave you two alone.”

“You really don’t have to.” “Okay, bye Andy!” Virgil waves to his teammate, sending him away.

You looked at Virgil, rolling your eyes. “What’s that for?” He asks. You change the topic, turning to face the man. “You are good today.”

“A compliment? From you? Wow, thank you.” He smiles and you can’t help but laugh. “Shut up.”

Virgil leans on the wall, his eyes glued to the red jersey you’ve had on. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like.. I don’t know. Don’t look at me like that.” You fold your arms over your chest.

Virgil smiles. “You’re headed out now?” He asks and you nod. “How are you getting home?”

“I took an Uber so I'll walk.”

“No, I can’t let you walk.”

“It’s 20 minutes, it's fine.”

“Come on, let me drive you. We can get dinner if you’d like.” He suggests and your brows furrow, glancing down at your outfit. “I’m not going to dinner in this.”

Virgil’s arm slings over your shoulder. “Let me take you home then. You can change and then we can go.”

“And if I change my mind; that I don’t want to go to dinner with you ?”

“We can order take out.”

You laughed, “you don’t take no for an answer.”

“Not when it can be avoided, no.”

Virgil smiles at you, your hand on his side as you agreed to go home with him; but not like that, don’t be nasty. The drive was short, you directed him rather than using the GPS because that would just take you through the most congested part. He’s quiet as he drives, the music playing softly in the back and every now and then he glances at you.

He pulls into the driveway, your car parked to the left and your mum’s on the right. You unbuckle, about to get out of the car when he grabs your arm, stopping you. “What?”

He hesitates, feeling a bit stupid for asking this but he asks nonetheless. “Is your mum home?”

You can’t help the loud laugh, at some point you’re hunched over in the seat next to him. “Is my mum home?” You repeat the question. The thought of Virgil, a massive man, a force on and off the field, being scared of your 5′2 mother made you hysterical.

Virgil rolled his eyes at your laughter but internally, he smiled; it was a sound he could listen to for the rest of his life. “Is she?”

“I don’t think so,” you finally calm down enough to answer him. “She’s supposed to go to my aunt’s so they probably picked her up.”

Virgil finally brings himself to let go of you, the two of you getting out of the car. You unlock the door, slipping your shoes off by the door and Virgil mirrors your actions before following you into the house. He takes in the place; the colours of the walls, the photos, the furniture.

“You want something to drink?” You asked, already in the kitchen. Virgil had stopped in the hallway, reading the framed degree that was on the wall. “Uh yeah, please. What do you have?”

Opening the fridge, you lean down to look into it. “Uh water, juice, lemonade, milk, vodka?” You shrugged. Virgil gives you a look when you suggest the last one. “I was making something last week, don’t judge.”

The man laughs, shaking his head as he takes a seat at the kitchen table. “I’m not judging, y/n. Some lemonade would be nice.” He tells you.

You turn to get the glass from the dish rack, pulling the jug of lemonade from the fridge. You handed the glass to him before putting the jug back in the fridge. “Help yourself to anything, I'll be back in a few.”

He smiles, nodding before you vanish into the hallway. He could hear the footsteps up the stairs and then above him. Virgil looked around, the yellow walls of the kitchen warmed him; or maybe it was the heat you had running for some ungodly reason. He finds himself walking around the kitchen, looking at the photos that were pinned on the fridge with colourful magnets.

There's some from your high school days by the looks of it, you and your mum and a few post-it notes; buy cheese, pick up nail polish remover, ran out of blueberries and lipgloss. It was obvious that there were women living in this house.

He sets the empty glass in the sink, walking through the hallway and into the living room. There’s a blue couch, it’s a shock in comparison to the white walls. There’s a few frames on the mantle above the fireplace and he finds himself walking over.

Virgil’s never been one to snoop but he wasn’t really snooping if it was out in the open, was he?

There’s three photos in a bigger frame; you through the years but only your graduation photos. The first one was elementary, high school and then college. The college one was recent, he knew as much because he remembers when your mum had told him and Andy when you were graduating.

A purple frame held one of you and your mum at the zoo, you don’t look older than 8 in the photo. You’ve got two braids in your hair and a red jacket on. There’s a big smile on both of your faces with a stuffed tiger tucked under your arm. It brings a smile to his face, he wonders if you still had the tiger.

There’s a few family pictures, people he doesn’t know but assumes are your cousins, aunts and such.

The last frame one the end had a photo of you; it seems like your first day of school. You’ve got on an orange shirt, hair pulled into two braids similar to the zoo pictures with matching orange hair bobbles on the top. There’s a big smile on your face, showing off all your teeth.

“Find anything interesting?” Your voice startles him when you come down the stairs.

He’s holding the photo when he turns, smiling as he sees you ready for dinner; black jeans and a red top that fit you like it was made for you. Nice to see you were keeping the theme with the red.

Virgil smiles, showing you the frame before setting it back in place. “You were so cute.” You're next to him now and you look over, “opposed to what? Am I ugly now, Virgil?”

The man’s brows pull together, he looks between you and the frame. “Wha- no, that’s not what I meant.”

Your lips pressed together, nodding. “Sure it wasn’t.”

“I swear!” He huffs, “y/n, c’mon. you know what I mean, you’re beautiful.”

You smile, fighting back the redness on your cheek. “Shut up Virg, you're such a sweet talker.” you laughed off the compliment. His hand reaches out, cupping your jaw. You can’t escape now, not that you wanted to.

You’re looking up at the man in front of you, Virgil’s eyes meet yours. “I meant it, you know.”

Lips inches apart, your body flush against his. You finally ask, “meant what?”

“That you’re beautiful.” He whispers, kissing you.

You aren’t sure how long you two were like that but when you pull away, Virgil’s lips are covered in your lipgloss. You smile, your thumb brushing over his lips to get it off. He looks at you, brows furrowed. “There’s lipgloss on you,” you tell him.

“I thought you were out.”

“How’d you know?”

“The fridge,” he shrugged, smiling when you finally moved your hand away. He looks at you, a smile on his face. “Ready for dinner?”

“Please,” you tell him, his arm now over your shoulder as you two walk to the door. “I’m starving.”

He laughs, nodding in agreement. “Y/n,” he holds your arm, stopping you from moving. You look back at the man, waiting for him to speak. “I don’t want to see you in that hideous thing again.”

You knew what he meant but it wouldn’t be you if you didn’t give him a hard time. “Oh you mean your jersey? Yeah no, I threw it out.”

Virgil rolls his eyes, the two of you heading out after you locked the door. “You’re a pain in the ass.” He tells you when you get in the car, you smile at him.

“I have a feeling you like trouble, Virgil.”

---

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