football imagines <3

(4) late nights - virgil van dijk

"Y/N..."

Virgil's breath tickled your ear as he softly whispered your name, "It's time for the handover." He said as he cleared his throat and motioned to the restless bundle in his arms. That's Ava.

Amelia, the patient twin, had just finished her nightly feeding and was grasping at the skin of your breasts. She had truly adopted her father's personality - so calm and patient, always waiting on her turn. But her sister Ava - the busybody, always needed either your or Virgil's attention or she would kick up a fuss. Virgil would always tease that Ava was the splitting image of you, or you might say, your personality. It's funny because their "favourite" parent were the complete opposite of their personalities - Amelia could not fall asleep without your gentle pats on her back and Ava needed to be bounced by Virgil until her eyes fluttered close.

"Okay, here we go..." Cooing at Amelia, you swiftly handed her over to Virgil who in turn placed Ava on the pillow that your bent arm was leaning on for support. "My sweet baby..." Making kissing faces at Ava brought out that gummy smile that you and Virgil loved so much.

Both of you burst out in quiet laughter as she finally latched onto your breast - after massaging it for a bit - her satisfied gurgles as she held onto your breast for support was enough of a signal that she was satisfied. It was in this moment that you glanced at your husband who seemed to be playing with the eldest twin.

"I can feel you staring."

"What? So I'm not allowed to stare at my husband and my cute baby." You said.

"Cute husband, too." He pouted as he peeked your way through his daughters fingers. Playing peek-a-boo with giggling Amelia was enough to satiate both father and daughter's interest.

"Are you not embarrassed?" You giggled in response, "Begging to be called cute at your age."

"Hey—" Amelia, once again became an object in his response as he used her hand to point in your direction, "I am not that old, I have just matured into my age. Like a good bottle of wine."

"Whatever you say, old man." Virgil's head immediately snapped in your direction as he squinted his eyes. All you could do was smile, biting your tongue so you didn't show how much of a ball you were having teasing him.

It had always been a discussion - your ages or, to better explain, the gap therein. Wasn't that much, just a mere five years but as a 20-year-old that had piqued the interest of 25-year-old Virgil (then) Southampton player, a lot of your friends and even family members were not happy. To be fair, they were thinking in advance to when Virgil would reach his 30s and you were still well in your 20s, the different lives, goals and expectations that would (most probably) weigh on the relationship. But both you and Virgil just wanted to see where the relationship would lead to, and here you are, almost 10 years later with twin daughters and a stable marriage.

Checking on Ava in your arms and seeing that she is still latched on your breast, drinking her fill, you groaned as your head hit the wall. "A glass of rosé would be so lovely right about now."

Virgil hummed, "Too bad you can't drink. I would've put them to sleep, light the fire and we could've cuddled in front of the fireplace the whole night."

You made sure to side-eye his response to which he sheepishly smiled, "Cuddle?" You asked in disbelief knowing that you would, in fact, not cuddle.

Virgil now sat with a sleeping Amelia in his arms after she exhausted herself trying to keep up with his antics. He was brushing the small strands of hair on her head, smiling to himself as he began outlining her features.

Your husband's hair was not as tightly wrapped up in a hair tire as when he is on the field but, instead, he had a low bun with a few strands of hair loose in the front. Both of your daughters had taken after their father - the same dark hair, the caramel skin, the beauty mark below their eye (Ava's is located below her left eye similar to Virgil and Amelia's is below her right eye) also a way to differentiate the twins.

Virgil loves to say that they have your "smile" but you have a strong feeling that it was only said to cover his ass, especially when you (jokingly) said that you would be so upset if you had to carry them for nine months - two weeks overdue too - only for them to come out looking like an exact copy like their father.

"You know damn—" Virgil cleared his throat at the cuss word, chuckling after you clear your throat.

"Cuddling would be the last thing on our minds. That's how these two were conceived in the first place."

Nodding your head in the direction of Ava and Amelia who, now, was laid in the middle of the bed. Both girls being knocked out completely after their midnight meals and sleeping peacefully next to each other. Virgil carefully situated his legs so it would act as a barrier and leaned his head against the side of his hand, facing you. "You told me to stay inside!"

"I didn't think you actually would." You chuckled, happy to be able to joke about how your daughters were conceived.

"No, but seriously, thank you for being you, for marrying me, for birthing my daughters and making me the happiest man on the planet."

"Don't be such a sap." You waved your hand in ignorance but he grasped it and placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles. Glancing at you from below, he massaged your hand and placed kisses along your hand.

You pushed his forehead, exaggerating the action he flopped onto his back making you roll your eyes, "If you get the twins quietly to bed, I'll consider that cuddle idea of yours."

With the sheer willpower of your words and implication, Virgil was up in no-time, twins secured in either arm and on his way to their room to put them down so he can spend time with you too.