My Woman. My Woman. My Wife.
Title comes from this song:
Request: All the sihtric fics😭 just fluff…mingled with angst. I just know he’s the most attentive lover ever. Always bringing flowers, making you laugh(bc his one liners are hilarious), sharing his furs with you… but I know he must have a temper. And he’s always gone away for so long. Poor rat boy probably thinks he’d be a terrible husband because of how often he’s gone for long periods of time. But he’s not😭 he’s the best husband ever. Anyway I got carried away, just all the sihtric things
@canyonmoon-2 I really hope I did your idea justice xx
Warnings: Details the loss of a baby and the grief in the aftermath of that loss. If that isn't for you, or it's too traumatic please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx
Not proof read but mistakes will be corrected in time.
Requests are open:
The ride back to Winchester seemed to be taking longer the closer he actually got to the city.
He was beginning to feel lightheaded with dizziness at the thought of seeing you again.
Sihtric was besotted with you, had been from the moment he laid eyes on you, catching your eye across the square, hauling your cart of produce to sell at the market.
At first he was too shy to even look you in your eye as he paid for apples he didn’t even need, but as soon as your fingers accidentally brushed, he couldn’t help but delight in the shy smile that you shot his way, as you wished him to have a good day.
He couldn’t help but offer to escort you to your homestead that night, he had claimed it was to keep you safe but instead it was to steal a few more moments with you, you had walked in easy silence until you suddenly stopped and turned to face him.
“You haven’t told me your name.” you giggled and Sihtric’s face lit up “You’re walking me all this way and I don’t even know your name.”
“You would let a man you don’t know walk you home and you never even thought to ask his name. A pagan man at that. What would your nailed god say?”
“I know you are one of Uhtred’s men,” you considered.
“And that is the only reason you would allow me to accompany you?” Sihtric teased.
“That is the main reason, but I do have others,” you teased back.
“And what would those other reasons be lady?” he quirked his head to examine your face and you smiled, that gorgeous smile his way again.
“Perhaps we should start with your name first,” you giggled and goddamn it Sihtric wanted to get down on his knee right then and there for you, “I am Sihtric, lady,” he smiled, suddenly shy and you considered him for a moment, “I am y/n.”
And so that became your weekly routine, Sihtric would walk you home from the market and you would chat easily. He would linger awkwardly outside your home, neither one of you wanting to say goodbye until the day when he got a sudden surge of confidence, Thor knows from where and sprung forward to press his lips against yours. You absolutely melted into his touch and giggled when he pulled away, his whole face lighting up with a smile, “I have been waiting weeks for you to do that Sihtric,” you giggled and for good measure he kissed you again.
“Sihtric, you barely know her,” Uhtred warned.
“I know enough lord,” he uttered shyly and Gisela considered him gently.
“You love her,” she eased after a while and Sihtric’s face broke out in a smile again.
“And she loves me. She tells me all the time,” he rushed before his cheeks lit up crimson with embarrassment, and Gisela couldn’t help her amused smile.
She reached a hand to Uhtred who frowned her way at first, a silent conversation happening between their eyes.
“Very well Sihtric, you may marry your lady,” he sighed but Sihtric had already taken to running.
“Thank you. Thank you lord,” he shouted over his shoulder and he was away to find you scooping you into his arms, peppering kisses to any part of your skin he could reach.
Sihtric was the most attentive man you had ever known. He loved you in ways you hadn’t even known possible. There was not a single moment you were together that his hands were not on yours. You joked that he should climb inside you and live in your skeleton more than once, but you had a feeling that he would’ve if he could. Opting instead to be inside you in the only way he could, as many times a day as you would allow, and you would never refuse him.
Nobody had ever loved Sihtric, no one had ever been tender with him. No one had ever shown him that he was worthy of beautiful things and you vowed to spend every day of your life proving to him that he did.
Gentle hands traced scars and kissed the parts of his skin that had been broken by his father’s cruelty and sometimes the feeling was so intense for Sihtric he could barely bring himself to look you in the eye.
“What is it love?” you murmured pressing kisses to his his worried brow.
“I have to go away with Uhtred again.”
“To battle?” you asked gently, caressing his face.
“To battle,” he confirmed.
“Sihtric, you love being a warrior. What is this about?”
“I don’t want to be without you. To go back to how it felt before I knew you. The darkness…”
“I will be here waiting for you. Right here,” you took his hand and placed it over your chest, “Feel my heart, know it is real and it belongs to you. I will be here, loving you.”
Sihtric surged forward and pressed his lips to your needily, feeling reassured that his woman would be waiting for him.
You had built a wonderful life together with Sihtric, and you were happier than you had been in your life, but Sihtric struggled with leaving you every time.
He was weary from the ride but the thought of you pressed him forward.
As soon as he and Finan dismounted, Finan urged him to come for a drink in the alehouse but Sihtric was furiously shaking his head and excitedly told him he was away to find his wife.
He burst through the door of your home, flowers in hand, calling your name but the smile slipped from his face when instead of being greeted by the sight of his wife, he was instead greeted by Hild.
“Where is she Hild?” he almost shrieked, panic coursing through him, making it hard to breathe.
Hild squeezed his arm gently and as reassuringly as she could, but her face was grave, and she led him through to the bedroom, where Sihtric collapsed down to his knees by your side, the sight of your deathly pale skin and gaunt face, enough to send him into a spiral.
“What is it? My love? My Life?” he was begging, stroking your hair, he wanted to pull away from the coldness of your skin. You were always warm, his warmth his sunshine.
“It was a little boy,” you whispered weakly “We had a baby boy, Sihtric.”
His head was reeling, he hadn’t even known you were pregnant before he left, nor had you.
“I couldn’t keep him,” you suddenly cried, giant sobs wracking your weak body, “I lost him. I lost him.” you were hysterical and all Sihtric could do was crush him to you and wrap you up in his arms.
Sihtric held you, letting you cry on him until you had no tears left, repeating that he was sorry, he was so sorry, and none of this was your fault, and when your eyes finally slipped closed he allowed his own tears to fall.
Hild took him into her embrace when he finally re emerged from the bedroom, and they made their way outside, where under the shade of a leafy oak, he found the small arrangement of burial stones, that he threw himself upon and wept.
“She insisted we honour your traditions,” Hild finally broke the silence. “I had Gisela’s help, but she arranged the stones herself, nearly killed herself in the process.”
“Will she live?” he finally mustered the strength to beg.
“She is very weak, and if god..if the gods are good, she will live,” Hild reassured
“She has to,” Sihtric whispered “Or you may as well place me here with my boy.”
You regained your strength over the next few weeks, slowly and with the help of Hild and Sihtric. Sihtric never left your side, fetching you food, bringing you extra furs to keep you warm and at night, he pulled you as physically close as possible, lamenting the loss of your warmth, for now you always felt cold to him.
But soon you were back on your feet again, well enough to walk, well enough to have Gisela and Uhtred over for dinner and well enough to make love to Sihtric for the first time in weeks since he had got home.
Sihtric was wound tighter than a leash the past few days, his face constantly pulled into a frown lately, and no matter how much you tried you could not seem to pull him from the depths.
“What have I told you?” he snapped suddenly, and you lowered your gaze to the floor, “You are my woman, there is no need for you to do these jobs anymore. I will do it!” he snapped.
You had been attempting to help him ready his horse, as you had done a million times, lifting his heavy saddle bag up to attach to his saddle.
You watched him silently as he roughly threw his things together. You were rarely on the receiving end of Sihtric’s temper but lately you seemed to be finding yourself under it more and more.
He made to mount his horse and you couldn’t help the phrase that fell from your lips.
“You blame me for his loss?” you stated but it was more like a question.
Sihtric stilled all action, but he did not turn to face you.
“That is why you cannot speak to me with tenderness these days. Is it not?” your voice was small and you fiddled with a thread on your sleeve.
“If you cannot love me anymore. If I cannot make you happy, then I set you free. I told you the night we first made love that you deserved to be happy, and If I cannot do that for you, I set you free. I set you free because I love you more than anything on this earth and I cannot bear you to be this unhappy”
“How can you still love me?” he snarled, turning to face you, wild eyed.
“I was not here. I left you alone. I left you to endure his loss alone,” he was clawing at the skin on his left forearm, leaving fresh nail marks, an old habit from when Kjartan would lock him in the cellar, knowing a beating or some other form of humiliation was coming his way. If he hurt himself first, the next hurt would never be as bad.
“Set me free because you would be better off without my weight around your neck. Set me free so you may find a man who can love you the way you deserve. A man who will never leave you alone another second of his life. But do not dare set me free because you love me. I do not deserve your love, not now and I certainly never did.”
You reached for him, but he pulled his arm from your grasp, your head reeling from his lack of tenderness.
“If you leave me now Sihtric, in this moment here, that will be the only time you will have abandoned me. The only time you will have left me when I really needed you.”
Sihtric looked at you conflicted, two mismatched eyes trying to frantically find the right thing to say.
“I can’t forgive myself,” he finally mumbled “And to think you could ever believe that I blame you for his loss. There is only one person at fault here and that is me. Because I cannot promise that I will never leave you alone again.”
“I knew who you were when I agreed to marry you. I knew you then, as I know you now and I know for every time you leave me you will always return.” He finally allowed himself to be pulled into your arms, and you tutted at the unmistakable scratches on his arm, he had been hurting himself for a while.
“Oh my love,” you cried “All this time I have thought you were blaming me, but you have been burdening yourself with the blame of this loss.”
Sihtric nodded in your arms and you traced your thumb across the scar on his face, before placing a gentle kiss to his lips.
“Neither of us are to blame my love, the gods were cruel.” he nodded in your hands finally allowing his eyes to soften, boring into yours and when he looked at you this way, you could always see the small, skinny boy who only ever knew hurt, fear and humiliation but never love.
“Talk never of setting me free again my love,” he begged, closing the distance to lean his forehead against yours “My place, my only place is here by your side. My woman. My woman. My wife.”
Tagging: @canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen thenameswinter99 foxyanon
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Portugal Pretenders
Virgil Van Dijk x Fem!Reader
Warnings: fake dating, the boys love to tease virg, past players make an appearance, takes place at robbo's wedding (I just made up random dates, forgive me if it's not accurate lmao), begging for a favour, wedding softness, some teasing, alcohol and the consumption of, a few awkward moments, julia and thiago are their biggest fans, some nsfw humour, virg doesn't know how to use an iron, some childishness at the end, all around sweetness.
Word Count: 7.9k
Author's Note: okay, I've come back to bring you all a new virg fic, since you've been living in my inbox, asking for it. hopefully you like it as much as I do.
---
"And this one's for you," Andy says, passing the light green envelope over to Virgil, catching his friend on his way out. "You've got a plus one, make sure you bring that girlfriend of yours you're always talking about."
Virgil nods, a smile on his face as he takes the invite from Andy. The panic fills his head, slowly moving down to his chest as he walks out of the training centre.
Andy's wedding was coming up in a few weeks. The boys have known about it for months, and as much as Andy insisted to Rachel that they don't need actual invites, she still sent them with her husband to be.
The defender finds himself driving home, thinking about how on earth he was going to find someone to join him at this wedding.
See, the thing was, the boys thought he was seeing something. That wasn't a total lie, as he was seeing someone but it ended as quickly as it started. He wasn't sure how to tell his friends that it was over and it spiralled, coming up with random details to tell them every time they asked about this non-existent girlfriend.
He didn't think Andy would go as far as giving him a plus one.
Virgil pulls into the driveway, opening the envelope as he reads the invite.
Celebrating the marriage of Andy Robertson and Rachel Roberts.
Rehearsal Dinner: July 2nd, 2022 at 7pm
Wedding Ceremony: July 3rd, 2022 at 3pm - Evening Reception to follow.
Join us in Faro, Portugal!
The rest of the details were on the back of the card, the invite was white with green accents to match the envelope. Must be their theme, he thinks, making a mental note to see if he has anything green to match.
He gets out of the car, putting the envelope in his pocket when he sees his neighbour, y/n, pulling into her driveway. He waves to her, the woman smiles at him as she pops her trunk open, a million bags waiting to be taken into the house.
"Need some help?" He offers, crossing the lawn to her driveway.
You smile, nodding. "Sure. Thank you, Virgil."
Virgil starts taking the bags out of the trunk, carrying them over to the front door as you unlock it. "I'm surprised you're home so early." He says.
"Keeping tabs on me?"
"No," he shakes his head, cheeks red. "I meant.. I usually see you come in late."
"Closed the clinic early today, we've got a staff party tomorrow, hence.." You gestured to the bags. Virgil nods, helping her carry them into her kitchen.
The two of you were on friendly terms, Virgil often helped you out around the house if you were busy. Despite being a footballer, he tended to take care of the yard work and you stopped by to make sure were in order at his place if he was away for a match or pre season training.
"How about a cup of tea?" You offered and he smiled, "you sure? I don't want to be a bother."
"Not a bother at all, make yourself at home. It's the least I could do to thank you for your help."
"It wasn't much help, I only carried the bags to the kitchen." He chuckles, sitting on a stool by the counter.
You shrugged, "still. It would have taken me like, 12 trips to get all of them, you used your big footballer muscles and did it in one."
Virgil smiles, watching as you filled the kettle with water and took two mugs out of the cupboard across from him; one with little flowers along the rim of it and the other a red mug Liverpool logo on the front.
"Surprised you have that," he says, you drop the teabags into the mug. "What? This?" You nodded to the red mug. "It'd just be wrong not to support the local team." You two laughed, you referred to Liverpool as if it was a rec league team.
You two are there in silence, you leaned on the counter as you stood across from the footballer. The man looked around while you looked at him, counting to yourself quietly. Once Virgil hears your whispers, he looks over at you with furrowed brows.
"What are you counting?"
"Your wrinkles," you say nonchalantly, pointing to his forehead as you count each one. Virgil rolls his eyes playfully, swatting your hand away. "You okay?"
He nods. "Yeah."
"You sure? I mean, you usually can't see the wrinkles on that big forehead on yours. So unless you've aged drastically since I've last seen you, I'd say you're worried about something."
"Is that your official diagnosis, Dr. L/n?"
"Yup," you nodded, smiling at him as you crossed your arms over your chest. "100%, now tell me, what's on your mind?"
"Well," he sighs as he starts. "I was invited to a wedding today."
"And? Is it for an ex or some cousin you hate?"
"No, nothing like that. It's actually Andy, you know, Robbo?"
You nodded, shutting the stove off when the kettle begans whistling. "He finally put a ring on Rachel? Good for them, tell them congratulations for me."
Virgil smiles, "I will."
"Wait, so if it's for Andy, what's the problem? I thought you two were good friends."
Virgil makes a face, wondering if he should really tell you what's bothering him. "We are, I uh.. I need a date for a wedding."
You laughed, "that's what's worrying you? C'mon Virgil, you're a footballer. You're handsome, you're young..ish- regardless, it shouldn't be too hard for you to get a date."
He rolls his eyes at your comment, "yeah well, easier said than done. Especially since I've - never mind."
"Oh no," you turn to face him after pouring the water into the mugs. "You're not going to leave me hanging like that! What, since you've..?
"Since I've been telling the guys I have a girlfriend. That's why Andy gave me a plus one, I really thought he wouldn't do that."
Your brows furrowed, you were beyond confused now. "Okay, you've officially lost me. You're nervous to ask her to be your date? Or - oh my god! Is she a married woman, Virgil?!"
"No!" He laughed, shaking his head at your outrageous suggestion. "I'd never date a married woman, in fact, I'm not dating anyone."
You were getting the milk from the fridge when what he said finally processed. You turn to face the man, "so wait, let me see if I got this right. You've been telling them you're seeing someone but you're not actually seeing anyone?" You say, looking for some clarification. Virgil nods, avoiding your gaze.
"Why would you lie to them?"
"I really didn't mean too! It wasn't a lie in the beginning. I was seeing this girl, she was cool but we didn't want the same things so it just sort of.. ended? They kept asking and I don't know why I didn't want to tell them the truth but I wasn't sure what to say so I played along and now, well, you know where I've ended up."
You sigh, unsure what to tell him. You didn't even think there was advice to help someone who's gotten themselves into such a position.
"That's a messed up thing you're in, dude." You added the milk to his mug, handing him the one with the flowers. Virgil nods, stirring the spoon in the mug.
"Do you have sugar?"
"Mhm hm," you turned, reaching up into the cupboard to get the sugar from the middle shelf.
Virgil watched, admiring you; not only on a surface level but deeper than that. He likes spending time with you, even if it was something as simple as a chat across the lawn. You were beautiful and kind, funny and smart, your humour was witty and you were charming. You could talk yourself out of a crime if need be - you were exactly who he was looking for.
Seems his lies have sent him in your direction; imagine if he hadn't helped you take your bags in today.
You turned to him with the sugar, you could feel him staring at you but he was sitting there, elbow on the counter with his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he smiled at you.
"What?"
"Will you be my date to the wedding?" He asks and you laugh, taking the top off the sugar jar.
"You're not serious."
"I am, what are you doing in 3 weeks?"
"Probably work, but I can't be your date, virgil."
He pouts, much like a child when they're told no. "Why not?"
"How would that work?"
"It's fine, I'll handle everything y/n. You just need to pack your bags and get the time off work. Hotels, flights, everything we need there, I'll take care of."
"Wait, the wedding isn't here?"
"Portugal," he says, doesn't miss the slight raise of your eyebrows.
"I've always said I'd go back to Portugal, even if it's just for a short time."
"See," Virgil says, "it's like my lying led us here, this can be a good thing for both of us. I'll have a girlfriend for the weekend and you get to visit Portugal again."
You can't help but laugh at his justification. "Please," he says, "I'm begging you now. I'll own you big time." His hands clasped together under his chin as he looked at you with big, brown, puppy eyes.
"Like season passes to your box at Anfield big time?" You asked, a raised eyebrow. Virgil laughs, nodding. "Exactly like that."
"You've got a deal then." You tell him, he smiles. "Perfect, I can't thank you enough."
"Mhm hm, now drink your tea before it gets cold."
--
The week of the wedding arrives faster than expected, you had been in prep mode all week; getting your hair and nails done, trying to pack whatever you think you'd need for a wedding.
A celebrity's wedding isn't different from a normal one, is it? Is that what a footballer is? A celebrity ? Can you call it a celebrity wedding- Your thought was interrupted by a knock on the door.
It's Virgil, a big smile on his face despite it being 8am. "Why are you so happy?" You asked upon opening the door.
"Oh, good morning to you too, sunshine. Are you ready to go?" He makes a face, chuckling. He starts carrying your luggage out of the house as you make one last walk through, assuming you had everything and things were in place for the few days you'd be away.
"Yup, all set." You notice he was putting your suitcase into his car. "You're driving?"
"Yeah, I figured it'd be faster than an Uber."
"We've got," you glanced at your phone, "4 hours before our flight."
"I know, it's fine." He waves you off, shutting the trunk before opening the passenger side door for you. You lock up and walk over the lawn to his driveway, getting into the car.
It was a short drive to the airport, the music played quietly and Virgil hummed as he drove. He glances over to see you typing away on your phone. "Who are you texting so early?"
"Playing the possessive boyfriend already, Virgil?" A raised eyebrow as you looked at the man. His cheeks flush red and he shakes his head. "I'm kidding," you rested a hand on his knee. He looks down and you move your hand. "I was just replying to some work stuff, I've never left them for so long."
"It's only 3 days, they'll be fine. Plus, don't they know you're on vacation?"
"Not really," you set the phone on your lap, "I told them I had some family stuff, couldn't exactly explain that Virgil Van Dijk was asking me- no, begging me, to be his fake wedding date."
"Technically," he points a finger at you, "it's a real wedding date, you're just my fake girlfriend."
"Technicalities, Virgil."
He laughs, pulling into the parking lot. The two of you head into the airport and after checking in, the woman sends the two of you down a hallway that seemed like a dead end.
You didn't travel often but you knew this seemed.. sketchy to say the least.
"Where are we going?" You asked Virgil, the man opens the door for you and leads you right onto the tarmac. There's a plane a few feet away and you turn to look at him, dot connecting in your head. "Private?" You asked him another question.
He nods, "figured I'd spoil my girlfriend," he jokes, smiling at you as you two walked over to the plane.
You sat across from Virgil, checking your phone for the millionth time since you've left home. "You know, they won't be able to reach you when we're in the air, I'm sure they'll be fine."
"I know," you switched it off and set it down before the plane took off.
The two of you were eating breakfast, a rather large spread for being in the air and considering the flight was barely 3 hours.
"So," you set the fork down on the plate, "get me the details, who's gonna be at the wedding?"
Virgil takes a sip of his coffee, "well, Andy and Rachel obviously."
"Obviously," you chuckled.
"Thiago, Jordan, Millie, Adam and their wives, Ox and his girlfriend, us and then Trent."
"What, Trent doesn't get a plus one?"
He shrugs, "I don't know, I don't think he's seeing anyone right now. Plus he's in the states, he said he's coming but we have to see."
You nod, the two of you chat a bit more. Virgil updates you on a few matches, how they think they're going to do, what it's like being captain. You tell him how the clinic is doing, how you're liking it so far compared to when you used to work at the hospital. Just small details that might come up in a conversation with his teammates.
Once you landed, Virgil collected your luggage and you were off to the hotel. It was a short walk to the venue from the hotel, the two of you put your stuff away and decided to go for a walk, grabbing a coffee before heading back to the hotel.
The rehearsal dinner was in a few hours, giving you two more than enough time to get ready. "We need to get our story straight," he says to you when you come in from the balcony.
"What story ?"
"Our outfits," he says with total seriousness, "what are you wearing tonight?"
You shook your head with a small smile on your face, taking the two dresses out of the wardrobe to show him; a light blue dress with a halter top, the small white flowers going from the waist to the bottom hem and the other was a burnt orange that was backless.
"I figured the blue was a bit more family friendly, classy enough without being too dressy," you hold it up to yourself to show him. He nods, "yeah, good. It's pretty."
You hung it back in the wardrobe before turning to him. "What are you going to wear?"
"We need to match." He was already searching through his suitcase for the shirt to match your dress. "Do we really need to?" You sat on the edge of the bed, looking at him.
He nods, pulling out the baby blue shirt. "This is close enough, no?"
"Yeah, but why does it look like you've had it rolled up in the bottom of a box for like.. 4 years?" Your brows furrowed as you looked at the state of it. Virgil shakes the shirt, trying to rid it of the permanent wrinkles. "Do you not have an iron, Virgil?"
"I do, but uh, I forgot to iron it."
You shook your head, getting up to search for the iron you knew you saw. You find it in the drawer in the wardrobe, handing it to him. Virgil spreads the shirt on the bed, plugging the iron in before fiddling with the settings. He looks between the iron, the shirt and you, a bit clueless before attempting to iron the shirt.
He works on the sleeve, making it worse than it was before, you watch as he helplessly works at the shirt. You figured maybe you were making him nervous in some weird way so you excused yourself to the bathroom to unpack your makeup and hair stuff.
When you came back, 7 minutes later, he was still working on the same sleeve. Your lips pressed together, arms folded over your chest as you watched.
"What?" He asked, glancing at you.
"You're terrible at that. Do you not know how to iron?"
He sighs, "it's been years since I've had to do it, I usually just get my stuff dry cleaned."
You smiled as you walked over, taking the iron from him and putting him out of his misery. "If I leave you to iron this, you might take the whole 3 hours to finish it. Why don't you go shower or whatever you need to do, I'll do it for you."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, go. Before you ruin the shirt," you shook your head, switching the setting from wool to cotton. You wondered how he ended up on wool to begin with. "Thank you," he smiles, walking into the bathroom.
While he showers, you finish up on his shirt and hang it on a hanger in the wardrobe. You also looked for his pants, ironing the 3 pairs of dress pants he had brought as you didn't know which one he'd be wearing.
Virgil returns to the room post shower, white towel wrapped around him that sat right below his hips, and you had just shut the wardrobe after hanging up his pants. You turn to find him behind you, your eyes fixed on the man; the water dripping down his chest, down to his stomach and it stops at the towel wrapped around his waist.
"You're staring, y/n." He says, you can hear the smirk on his face before your eyes meet his face.
It's not like you've never seen him shirtless before, he used the pool in his yard quite often, not to mention the glimpse of him you catch in the media or what the Liverpool account posts.
Clearing your throat, you blink a few times before speaking. "I uh, I ironed your pants as well, I wasn't sure which ones you were gonna wear so I ironed all of them."
He smiles, "thanks."
You nod, excusing yourself to the bathroom to shower. You shut the door, back pressed to it for a moment before going about your routine. You weren't sure how long you were in there but you had showered, done your hair and you were mid way through your makeup when there was a knock on the door.
"Can I come in?" Virgil calls from the other side of the door. "I need to fix my hair." He says and you open the door for him, concealer all over your face, hair pinned up with the robe wrapped around you.
He smiles when he sees you; you look so.. well, beautiful but there was something else, a domesticity of sorts. The two of you getting ready in the same bathroom, there's some intimate in the way you were seeing each other right now. Moving in silence as you both did your own thing beside one another.
You break the silence, "how did we meet?"
"We're neighbours..?" His eyes meet yours in the mirror, confusion all over his face.
"I mean if they ask, your teammates. What did you tell them?"
"Oh," he says, wrapping the hair tie around his hair. "I told them we met through mutual friends, my friend, Kevin. His wife knows you and we were all at the same party and we hit it off from there."
You hum, finishing up on your makeup. You were searching for your lipstick, "and how long have we been together?" You find the one you were looking for.
"Almost a year. If my math is right, it should be like.. 10 months?"
The lipstick in your hand, you look at Virgil with a shocked look on your face. "You've been lying to them for almost a year? How the hell did you manage that?"
His lips pressed together then he shrugs, which makes you laugh. "Okay," you nod, "almost a year it is." You turn back to the mirror, applying your lipstick.
Virgil watches as you do it, your hands steady while you go over your lips, pressing them together to make the colour even. "What do we think?" You asked, turning to him when you notice he's watching.
"Beautiful," he smiles, "truly."
"So cheesy," you chuckled, walking out of the bathroom to change into your dress.
The two of you head down to the venue a few minutes later, all dressed and ready to meet his teammates at the rehearsal dinner.
Before you walked in, Virgil grabbed your hand which caught you off guard. Your fingers interlocked with his and it took you a moment to realize why he did that; the two of you were a couple, of course.
It was already full in there, most of their family had already arrived and a few friends were scattered through the venue. You see a few of his teammates but Virgil leads you to the front, tapping Andy on the shoulder.
"Virg!" Andy smiles, pulling Virgil into a hug. "You made it," he steps back and sees you next to the man, his grin only widening. "You must be the famous girlfriend we hear about all the time."
"That would be me," you smiled, "I'm y/n, it's nice to meet you."
"It's nice to meet you too, this is Rachel, bride to be." He introduces you to his fiancee. You smiled at her, the two of you exchanging niceties.
"It's nice of you to make it, Andy was saying how he was certain Virgil wouldn't be bringing you." Rachel says, her arm interlocked with Andy's.
"Well to be fair, Virg seemed a bit nervous to ask me to come but I wouldn't miss it for the world. I don't think I've said it but congratulations."
Virgil's heart skips a beat, it wasn't out of ordinary that someone called him Virg, but you've never had. You always called him Virgil, so to hear the nickname come out of your mouth, make him rather.. soft.
"It's my fault," Andy starts, "we did tell Virg to bring you around before but he always said you were busy with work. So I think it's fair of me to think you were fake."
You laughed, "I can assure you I'm alive and real, feel free to pinch me to confirm." Andy laughed at your comment, smiling at his teammate in approval of you. Virgil returns the smile.
"Anyways, make yourselves comfortable, we're going to start the rehearsal soon." Rachel tells the two of you, leading Andy off to greet someone else.
Virgil's hand rests on your lower back, the two of you sitting towards the middle of the chairs, watching as they went through the rehearsal. It was mostly family, his teammates were only there so they could all mingle and catch up as they had been on break for a few weeks at this point.
At some point after they were done the run through, Virgil suggested drinks and you followed him to the bar, his hand once again on your lower back.
"Virg!" You hear someone call for him, the two of you turning at the same time to see who was coming his way. Both Jordan and Millie were making their way over to the two of you.
"Hey," Virgil smiles at his teammates. "Guys, this is y/n, my girlfriend. This is Jordan and James."
You smiled at the men, "it's nice to meet you both."
"We thought you weren't coming," Millie says and Jordan follows up with a, "it's nice to meet you, we thought you weren't real."
"That seems to be the general consensus tonight," you laughed.
Ox makes his way over to the bar, seeing his teammate with a woman he's never seen before. "You must be Virgil's girlfriend, I'm Ox." He introduces himself.
"I'm y/n, nice to meet you."
"I can't believe you're actually here."
You turn to Virgil, making a face at him. "Why do all your teammates think I'm not real?"
"He wouldn't show us pictures," Millie says, shrugging. "I guess that's true," you nudged Virgil, "between Virg's practices and games, and then with my work, we barely get time to see each other and when we do, we're not on our phones."
Jordan makes a face, looking between you and Virgil and you instantly know what he's thinking. "No!" You laughed, shaking your head. "That's so not what I meant."
"What is it that you do, y/n?" Ox pipes up.
"I'm a doctor, an OB actually."
"Oh wow," Ox smiles at his teammate. "She's good, you've got good taste, big man. I see why she hasn't been around."
You smile, your phone buzzing in your hand. You excuse yourself, walking away to take the phone call. You can hear the boys talking behind you, you glance over your shoulder and smile at Virgil, the man's heart skipping a beat. Despite you not being his actual girlfriend, it did feel good to get the approval from his teammates.
Virgil hadn't even realized how long he had been chatting with his teammates, he went in search of you and found you just outside, chatting with Julia, the two of you talking about their kids.
"There you are," Virgil says, walking down the steps towards you. You smile at him, "I see you've met Julia." He gives the woman a quick hug before standing beside you.
"Yeah," you smiled at her, "I'm mad at you, you know."
"What for?" His brows furrowed, looking at you. He's wondering what he could have possibly done.
"You've been hiding me from her, Julia and I are best friends now."
The blonde smiles at you, "yes we are. We've already made plans to get lunch when we get back to Liverpool. I can't believe you've never brought her around before, Virgil." She tells him, her voice similar to the one she uses when she scolded her children, and or Thiago, when they misbehave.
"Oh well, I'm sure y/n's told you about her hectic schedule. Blame her, not me. I do hope you two have fun at this lunch." He laughs, his arm over your shoulder.
The rest of the night was quiet, everyone caught up with each other with their summer plans and you met the rest of the players and their partners over the course of the night. Eventually you two decide to call it a night, heading back to the hotel.
You were by the door, taking your heels off when you saw Virgil stop in the middle of the room, in front of the bed.
"What's wrong?" You asked him, walking over. You seem to realize what he's thinking; there's only one bed.
Not like they've taken a bed out of the room while you were gone but you two had been too tired and too busy getting ready for the dinner that neither of you seemed to register that there was in fact, only one bed in the room.
It didn't occur to Virgil when booking the room that you'd need a separate bed, you weren't really a couple after all.
"I'll take the couch," you tell him, not wanting him to feel bad for his slight mess up.
He shook his head, turning to you. "No, it's fine. I'll take the couch, you take the bed."
You glance at the couch next to the window, it was spacious - that's if you were under 5 foot. There's no way he'd sleep comfortably if he did manage to fit on it.
"You know what, we're both adults. We'll sleep together." You tell him, his eyes widening at your words. "Not what I meant," you smack his arm. "We can both fit on the bed comfortably, no need for either of us to suffer on the couch."
"You're sure?" He asks and you nod, "of course, but hands to yourself mister." You pointed a finger to him, making him laugh.
Virgil raises his hands, "I swear I'll be on my best behaviour," he says, watching you walk into the bathroom to get ready for bed.
--
The sun peeks through the curtains, waking you from your sleep. You shut your eyes, trying to get a few more minutes but you can hear the shower running and then shuts off followed by the bathroom door opening. The smell of Virgil's body wash fills the room and you sit up, rubbing your eyes.
"Mornin' sunshine," he smiles at you, sitting on the edge of the bed. You yawn, stretching as you try to wake yourself up. "What time is it?"
"10:27," he looks at the clock, "how about some breakfast?"
"Yes please," you get out of bed, fixing the comforter as you walk to the bathroom. "Lots of coffee please," you smiled at him, shutting the door.
Virgil orders room service while you shower, you return to the room just as it arrives. The two of you sit on the couch, eating breakfast in comfortable silence. Virgil grabs his phone, "Andy sent over some pictures from last night," he shows you a few photos that the groom to be had sent.
"Those are cute, send them to me."
Your phone buzzes on the bed and you look over at the clock, "shit, I've got to do my hair." You set the cup down on the table and walk towards the bathroom. "Do you need the bathroom?"
"No, I'm good." he tells you, "do your thing."
You walk in and walk back out, leaning on the door frame. "What are you wearing today?"
He smiles, "don't worry, I ironed it and put it in the closet."
"Properly?" You asked, walking over to confirm.
"Yes," he shook his head, watching as you took the shirt out to confirm that he did in fact iron it properly. "Wow, good job. Big upgrade from yesterday."
"Watched a YouTube video," he says, making you laugh.
You leave Virgil in the room, off to shower and then to start on your makeup and hair as you weren't 100% sure what look you wanted to do. Virgil left you alone, letting you get ready in peace. He could hear the music playing, your humming accompanying the melody.
He thought to himself that it was something he could get used to, that his house would feel so quiet and empty without you humming.
The line between real and fake seemed to be getting blurred more and more as the time went by.
"Virg?" You called for the man, he got up from his spot on the couch. He had been ready for some time, you still had an hour before you needed to leave. "Yeah?"
"Can you zip me up?"
You stepped out of the bathroom, hair pulled over your shoulder with your dress on. He smiles, nodding as he walks over to you; the sage green dress hugged your body in the right places, it was as if the dress was made for you and only you.
Virgil's hand rests on your waist, the other holds the zipper and gives it a soft tug, pulling it up to the top. The hand holding the zipper now turns into fingers trailing down the curve of your spine, coming to rest on the other side of your hip. "There you go."
Turning around to face him, Virgil's hands remained on your hips. "Thank you," you look up. He nods, "you look.. wow."
You can't help but laugh, straightening his shirt. "You look pretty wow yourself."
Virgil lets go of you when you take a step back, walking to the vanity to put your jewelry on. It takes the two of you half an hour to gather the last minute things you needed, assuring you were ready before heading out for the ceremony.
It's a short walk to the venue, everyone was being ushered into the church to take their seats while the bridal party was lining up to walk in when you two arrived.
The weather was beautiful, the sun was out and the church was full with their families and friends; they couldn't ask for a better start to their wedding day.
The ceremony was short and sweet, Andy and Rachel exchanging vows and promises, everyone was beyond happy for them.
Most of the guests were now outside, the doors to the church open as everyone was heading out.
You stood next to Virgil by the stairs, letting him block the sun from your face as you checked your phone. You hear the footsteps before you hear the voice. "You're actually here, you're real?" The Scouse accent thick, Trent.
"I am real," you looked up, smiling at the man who looks like he's seen better days. "You must be Trent."
"Yeah, it's nice to meet you. Excuse me." He says, covering a yawn with his hand.
Before you two could speak, Andy was calling the two players over for a group photo. You stop Virgil, standing on your tiptoes to reach his collar, his hand on your hip you keep you steady as you fix it before sending him on his way; a small act of intimacy that you'd only find between a couple.
You had been checking your emails, something you knew Virgil would complain about if he caught you doing it yet again. You were so caught up that you hadn't noticed him calling your name. When you do, you look up, making a hand motion as to ask him what he wants. He waved you over, pointing to the spot in front of him. Your brows furrowed, still unsure what he wanted as the dots didn't seem to connect. Virgil realized as much, pointing towards the photographer and then back to the spot in front of him.
Only then did it click what he meant.
You head over, joining the other girlfriends and wives in the photo. Andy and Rachel were front and centre, the rest of you around them.
"Alright everyone, squeeze in a bit more please!" The photographer shouts, showing you all with his hands to move closer to each other.
Virgil moves you from beside him to in front of him, his arm over your shoulder and your hand instinctively reaches up, fingers interlocking with his.
The photographer gives everyone a moment to situate themselves, "perfect, alright everyone look here! Smile!"
A few moments later, you were all allowed to move. Andy and Rachel were off to take some more photos, there was only about 30 minutes before the reception which wasn't too far from the church.
Everyone makes their way over, waiting for the official entrance from Andy and Rachel as Mr and Mrs Robertson for the first time.
You were sat next to Virgil, Jordan and his wife, Rebecca, to the right of Virgil and Thiago and Julia to your left.
Andy and Rachel were having their first dance, the whole venue was quiet as you all watched the two of them, wrapped up in love and giggling as they whispered to each other mid dance.
You wiped the outer corner of your eye, blinking a few times in an attempt to save your makeup. Virgil turns slightly when he hears a small sniffle. He sees your watery eyes, smiling to himself and leans in to whisper to you; "are you crying?"
"Shut up," you whispered back, turning him back around with a small nudge. "Weddings make me emotional."
The evening was quiet, dinner consisted of everyone chatting, Andy and Rachel made the rounds to say hello to everyone who they didn't get a chance to talk to at the church. Eventually they reopened the bar and the dance floor, everyone started making their way around, mingling, drinking and dancing.
You were replying to a message when Virgil came over, two shot glasses in hand. He passes one to you, "to Andy and Rachel," he says, tapping his glass to you. The two of you down the shots, tequila, based on the after taste.
"Okay, let's go dance!"
"I don't dance, Virg."
"It's a wedding, you have to dance!" He takes your phone from you, putting it into his pocket and grabbing your hand. "Virg," you groaned, the man ignores your pleas and takes you to the dance floor, spinning you around.
Before you know it, the two of you are giggling and dancing, his arms over your shoulders as he hugs you from behind, swaying to the music.
"I'm gonna get a drink," you tell him and the man lets you go while nodding before shimmying his way over to Trent, who looks like he was about to fall asleep in his chair. You laughed, leaving Virgil to bother Trent as you walked to the bar.
You had barely made it to the bar when someone shouted for you. "Y/n!" You see Thiago off to the side, "can you take a picture for us?"
"Sure," you take the phone from him, he and Julia standing together, arms wrapped around each other as they smiled, then Thiago kissed her.
Sometimes you wonder what it'd be like if you had a stable and loving relationship like theirs.
"I thought you got lost!" Virgil says, walking towards you. You shook your head, handing the phone back over to Thiago. The Spaniard then turns, passing the phone to Virgil. "Okay now you come in, let him take the picture."
"Are you sure?" You asked, Thiago was already pulling you into the photo.
He nods, you and Julia on either side of him, the 3 of you smiling as Virgil takes the photo, the camera flashing. Thiago steps out, letting you and Julia have some together, his wife telling him something about they have enough pictures of them together. You laughed, the two of you smiling for the camera.
"Do you want one together?" Thiago looks at Virgil, who then looks at you and you shrug, waving him over. Virgil hands his phone to Thiago while Julia replaces him by her husband's side.
Virgil's arm over your shoulder, your arm around his waist, the two of you smiling while Virgil pulls you into his side. "Alright Virg, give your lady a kiss." Thiago says, smiling.
Your 'boyfriend's' cheeks are red, a flush he can blame on the Portuguese heat or the liquor but you know the real reason. "Come on man, what are you waiting for?!" Thiago says, laughing at Virgil's shyness.
"Leave them alone," Julia tells her husband, rolling her eyes at his childishness.
"It's fine," you whisper to Virgil, turning to him a bit. He looks at you, whispering back, "you sure?" You stood close, the air between you two charged with a mixture of tension and anticipation.
"Mhm hm," your hand rests on his chest while he leans down, you tip toe a bit, meeting him half way when he kisses you.
But as your hand found its way to Virgil's cheek and your lips met against each other's, something shifted. What was meant to be a quick moment blossomed into something real, something raw. When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, a shared realization dawned upon them.
The kiss may have been staged, but the feelings it stirred within were undeniably genuine.
As you glanced at each other, a silent understanding passed between you and Virgil. This fake relationship may have begun as a charade, but perhaps, just perhaps, it held the promise of something more.
Thiago grinned, "perfect. The picture of love," he says, handing the phone back to Virgil. You smiled, your own cheeks now flushed and red. You reached over, your thumb brushed over his lips to wipe away the lipstick left behind. Virgil's arm wraps around your shoulder, the two of you chatting as you join Thiago and Julia for a round of shots.
The night wrapped up just after midnight, everyone waiting at the front to wish Andy and Rachel well, seeing them off as they left before everyone else headed to wherever home was after that.
Virgil's jacket over your shoulders while you walked back to the hotel. Despite the humidity earlier in the day, there was now a slight chill in the air.
"Did you have a good time?" He asks, opening the door for you. "I did," you walk in, waiting for the elevator to your room. "Thank you for bringing me."
"Thank you for coming, you really saved my ass."
It hits you in the moment that this was in fact, fake. You were doing him a favour, you weren't a couple, you never will be. Just a good friend helping him out in a tough situation.
When you returned to the room, Virgil announced that he's gonna go take a shower while you got ready for bed. The two of you moved in silence, you sat at the vanity taking your makeup off while the sound of the water running filled the room. You had to remind yourself that this wasn't real yet again.
All the feelings felt over the weekend were just for show. Certainly Virgil didn't feel the same way you did.
The steam filled the bathroom, Virgil lets the water run as he stands there. The kiss was real, the moments you shared were real, his feelings for you were real.
How the hell was he used to bring it up without it being awkward?
The shower shut off just as you were about to get into bed. Your phone bus is on the nightstand, and you reach over to grab it. There's a notification from Instagram.
juliavigas tagged you in a post. - 2mins ago.
You opened it, checking to see what she posted. There's a few photos from the wedding. Some of her and Thiago, the venue, one of you and her, as well as the one with you, her and Thiago. She also included the one in front of the church, Virgil's arm wrapped around you as you all smiled.
Virgil finds his way to the bed, sitting next to you. "What's so interesting?"
"Julia posted some pictures," you show your phone, letting him scroll through the pictures. "I guess everyone will think we're together now." He looks at the one in front of the church before handing the phone back to you.
"Wasn't that the whole point?" You ask, setting your phone on the nightstand.
"I guess so," he shrugs, the two of you sitting there in silence, the tv playing quietly in the background. There's a million thoughts going through his head at this very moment.
As he looked over at you, in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Virgil couldn't help but admire your beauty, the way your eyes sparkled with a warmth that mirrored a flickering flame. It was in shared moments like these that he felt a pull, a force pulling him closer, urging him to take that leap of faith. But as the silence went on, Virgil felt the weight of his hesitation, suffocating him with its embrace.
How could he confess his feelings when the fear of rejection spun around in his mind, an unwelcome shadow over his every thought?
He glances at you once more, your eyes meeting in a brief exchange, Virgil felt a sense of longing wash over him, a wave of emotion threatening to consume him whole.
Still, the words remained unspoken, trapped behind the barricade of his uncertainty.
He had to take the leap of faith, he wouldn't know if he didn't try.
"What are we?" He blurts out, breaking the silence.
You turn, looking at him with a confused expression. "What are.. what do you mean?"
"Well.. we.. we kissed, so like, are we.. what are we?"
"We're not in high school, Virg. A kiss is a kiss, no?"
His smile fades, your heart breaking the moment you see that. He nods, turning his attention back to the tv. "Yeah, no. Of course."
"I'm kidding," your hand rests over his on the bed, "if you're asking me if I like.. if I like you, then I'll only answer if you put it into a note, like high school." You raised your eyebrows, making him chuckle.
"Yeah, okay." He nods. The topic was dropped, the tension lifting slightly.
--
The next morning, you and Virgil leave bright and early, heading to the airport for your flight back to England. The plane had barely taken off and you were still not fully awake, nursing your coffee as Virgil's fingers drummed on his knee.
"Dude," you groaned, "I have a headache, it sounds like you're playing a gong right now."
He stops tapping on his leg, brows furrowed and lips twisted in a weird expression. "Can you play a gong? Is that what it is?"
"I don't know, you know what I mean." You tell him, leaning your head back, eyes shut. You barely got all but 3 minutes of silence before Virgil speaks up again. "Do you have a pen?"
You open your eyes, reaching over to dig through your purse next to you before fishing out a pen and handing it to him. You watch him as he uncaps it, scribbling something down on the napkin in front of him, sliding it over the table to you with the pen.
'Do you like me? Check yes or no.' The two little boxes labeled yes and no under his question.
You smile, shaking your head at his childishness and the fact that he took what you said seriously. You picked up the pen, checking a box and sliding it over to him.
The yes was checked, Virgil glances at you with a cheeky smile before picking up the pen, flipping over the napkin and writing something else before sliding it back to you.
'Will you be my girlfriend?' the same yes and no boxes drawn under the question.
Your answer was yes but you wouldn't give into him so quickly. You picked up the pen, chin in the palm of your head thinking as if it was the hardest question of your life. You can see Virgil shifting nervously in his seat, and it's as if you can hear him overthinking his decision to ask you.
To put him out of his misery, you check a box and slide it back over to him.
There's a sigh of relief when he sees you've checked yes. You toss the pen at him playfully, shaking your head. "You're so cheesy."
"You said to ask it in a note!" He says, folding the napkin and putting it into his pocket.
"I didn't think you'd actually do it!" You laughed, the man shook his head and unbuckled, leaving over the table. His hands cupping your face, smiling at you before he kisses you.
Your hand interlocked with his, stretched over the table when he sat back down. "How about when we get back, I take you on an actual date?"
Your thumb brushes over his hand. "Not sick of me yet?"
"Could never get sick of you, y/n."
--
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