Curate, connect, and discover
OMG IM DYING 😭😭😭
triumph
{virgil van dijk x reader}
in which virgil wins a trophy and celebrates in the best way ✨
warnings: unprotected sex, semi!public fuck with hold the moan vibes. no rhyme or reason except that this man deserved a bit of celebratory love.
To the roar of a blazing crowd, he lifts his first trophy as captain gloriously over his head, and although you know you should be paying attention to that shiny silverware that he and the kids worked so hard for, you’re staring at his biceps instead - the defined, hard line of muscles there, the veins that run across the length of his arms - entirely lickable, biteable even, how they seem to almost stretch out his sleeves.
You cross your legs to repress the ache that grows between them, as his gaze searches the crowd and lands on you - the only one he looks to for approval and love, and you blow him a flirtatious kiss that makes his smile grow wider, his eyes sparkly with the thrill of victory, of being on the receiving end of your love.
He eventually has to hand the trophy over, to your disappointment that his arms are no longer on display. But this sadness immediately vanishes when he runs to you so he can lift you up in his arms now, as if you were the real prize all along. You cup his face and plant a kiss on him that curls your toes, between his whispered gratitude and his hands stroking through your hair. The crowd behind you goes wild at the display of affection, but Virgil doesn’t care. In fact, he doesn’t seem to even notice them. He drags you into the tunnel, away from the roaring chaos, and in this relatively quieter space, you can talk freely now.
“Later,” he murmurs into your ear, his hand wandering up your back, “I want to celebrate properly.”
You nod, already seeing the glint of excitement in his pretty eyes. Your eyes are drawn to his mouth, and the bead of sweat that trickles over his neck and throat, down to the neckline of his jersey. “How… exactly?”
His gaze locks on yours - intimate, enthralling. “Going to have you strip off all these clothes for me - slowly. I know you’ve got some pretty underwear on, don’t you?”
Your cheeks heat up. “Maybe.”
He grins. “Maybe I’ll take them off with my teeth then. Have you lie there, wrists tied to my bed with my jersey… so I take my time with you and do anything I want.”
“Virg…” you warn, but he just carries on - voice growing lower now.
“Or maybe…” he glances around, trying to evade suspicion. “We don’t even have to wait to go home to celebrate.”
You blink slowly at him, the thought making you want to shiver - it’s too much, too naughty. “I… you want to… now?”
He winks. “If you can be quiet… I don’t see what’s the problem.”
-
It is a problem, actually, when he’s dragging you into an empty room barely a few meters away from his team’s actual celebrations - one kiss blaring out triumphantly. His hands make quick work of your jeans, practically ripping the zip and swearing at how tight they are, groaning with relief and need when he finally touches bare skin instead of denim. You peel his shirt off and indulge yourself with kisses along his neck and collarbone, sucking along the smooth skin until he’s letting out soft moans of his own. His body practically flattens you against the wall, hands already slipping into your underwear - red, lacy, and he groans at the sight of it. Still, he’s impatient to do more than just look - and so his fingers take to stroking and teasing you until they’re soaked, and you’re gripping his bare back, desperate to be filled with him.
“Fuck, I need you,” he groans, and you’re not doing any better, whining and rutting back into his fingers like you’re starved (and you are).
“Please, Cap,” you beg, and it turns him on when you call him that - when he gets to hear how desperate you are for him.
“Fuck. You want it bad, huh?” He kisses the moan of approval from your mouth, as you cup the impressively thick bulge of his cock, his hips grinding back into your touch. He feels so rock-solid and you’re not able to wait - shoving his shorts down, his underwear, letting him hoist you up with your legs around his hips so you can position his cock perfectly where you need it.
The first press of him against your entrance makes you moan, until he has to cup his hand over your mouth and chuckle (unsteadily), “shhhhh… they’re going to hear you, sweetheart.”
But that reminder only turns you on more, and you whimper against his hand over your mouth, as he fucks slowly into you now, rocking his hips into your wet, aching cunt. It’s good - it’s always so good with him - this aching stretch and the way your walls clench around him, possessive almost. But what seals the deal is his mischievous eyes full of excitement and love and everything in between - the grin he makes, the freckles along his pretty cheeks, his hair no longer neatly combed back in a bun but a little unruly, messy even. You struggle away from his hand over your mouth so you can kiss him again, and this time, you suck on his bottom lip, moaning his name, letting him know how wet he makes you, how fucking good his cock is. You feel him pick up the pace, his breaths ragged and intense and you need him closer, so much closer, even though you’re pressed up against him with not an inch of space left.
He gets so wild, actually, thrusting into you, calling you all sorts of pet names and struggling to stave off his orgasm - but you’re clawing at his back now, making him go guttural, feral, fucking into you with boundless energy. “Virg… I’m going to come,” you gasp, the confession shuddering from your lips.
He leans his forehead against yours, and you share a breath as your orgasm slams into you, making you clench around him in spasms, and it’s too tight and wet and hot for him to hold off any longer. He makes those final few pumps inside you and moans long and loud into your mouth, and you kiss the sweet surrender from his lips, feeling him spill into you, deep and good.
He laughs in disbelief and delight when letting you down from the wall, sliding past his body and so he can give you one final kiss. He squeezes your bare ass and you giggle into his sweet mouth, “haven’t you had enough?”
“With you?” He smirks, daring to spank you now, “it’s never enough.”
-
oh my god. how insane was yesterday?
wrote this weeks ago with someone else in mind, but it never quite stuck for me. I realised today that this is why - fate had intended for this fic to work out for virg after all.
for my captain’s series! and because a trophy win demands a celebratory fic (it’s tradition).
lots of love, ivy