small hanleia week update 🫶 i will be writing a single fic to be released on the last day of the week combining a few different prompts! and then millennium should be back starting next friday (the 28th). this break time has been sorely needed and i hate that it overlapped with hanleia week, but in excited to read everyone’s entries!
Virgil Van Dijk x black!f! physiotherapist!reader x Hugo Ekitike
Starting a new job as a physiotherapist should’ve been simple enough. But after a night out, Y/N catches the attention of Liverpool stars Virgil van Dijk and Hugo Ekitike—the same players she’ll be working with. Keeping things professional suddenly becomes a lot harder than anticipated.
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|| next chapter ||
warnings: none, mention of alcohol! Swearing.
slow burn-ish?
may be ooc i apologise in advance 🥹
wc: ?? long ig
tags: mature themes! mention of alcohol. readers a bit of a bitch.
a/n: ༻first time writing…kinda nervous༺ || any feedback will be greatly appreciated!
please let me know if you would like a chapter 2 🩷
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Chapter 1 - Amusing
11:48 PM.
54 Liverpool.
The club is lively. The bass thumps wildly, strobe lighting casting flashing bright hues across faces.
Drinks are flowing, bodies are moving to whatever mixed beats are being blasted through the speakers.
The floor is packed.
Right in the center of said floor, her.
She stands out. How could she not?
Dark curls straightened into a shimmering press of silk at her shoulders. Black capris tight around her calves, toes painted a nude pink. Corset snug around her torso, open at her sternum, rhinestones decorating said opening.
She’s not tall, not short either. 5’5 about. Her open toed sandals not doing much to boost her height, yet she still looks breathtaking.
Theres three girls surrounding her. Her closest friends. Laughing loudly at whatever they’re saying, shots in hand, yet she’s not doing the most.
Just enjoying herself.
Just to be the cherry on top, she’s got eyes that are gentle around the edges, a mahogany gaze that can pull you in and never let you out.
Y/N downs the shot in her hand, putting the empty glass on the counter infront of them, before grabbing one of her friends hands—
“Bathroom, Kisha. Come with?”
Kisha smiles. She’s a little tipsy, but not enough to be stupid.
“Okay!”
She nods, her steps a little staggered and slow as she follows Y/N closely behind as they navigate through the sweaty bodies between the thumbs of the bass.
Y/N places her hand on Kisha’s waist, keeping her near at all times. She guides them both up the stairs, sandals slapping against the metal as they move at a pace to keep them both steady.
As they reach the top of the stairs, she looks left and right, then she does a full on 360. Upstairs is packed. Far more than the dance floor where uncoordinated movement occurs. It doesn’t take more than a minute before both Y/N and Kisha are suddenly pushed by someone, or something— they don’t know, but all that’s realised is that the grip on Kisha’s waist is released, and that she’s being tipped.
‘Shit,’ she thinks to herself, eyes shutting tight as she tenses, anticipating the impact.. but the impact never comes.
Only a mere thump to the back of her head.
“Fuck my life fuck my life..”
Y/N whispers under her breath, lips pursing before realising she’s not touched the floor.
Thank goodness for that.
Out of pure embarrassment, she quickly turns her head at whatever— or more like whoever she’s bumped into, and as she turns she’s met with a white clothed chest. She tilts her head up once. Then once more.
Oh.
She can’t make out his face fully in the dimmed lighting. She squints her eyes.
Looking right down on her, piercing brown eyes. Studded ears. Blonde curls resting atop his head, one hand is up. Obviously he hadn’t expected to have someone falling onto him.
His POV
The air is hot, humid; like a club always is. The whole team is here. Celebrating a 5 time back to back win.
We’re scattered, except Virgil and I. We’re talking, along with these women who’d approached us. Blonde; curly hair; brunette, you name it. They’re pretty. I can say that for free. We’re all nursing our drinks, the few on either side of us giggling at whatever came out our mouths.
Typical.
Just as I’m about to put my drink down, i fell it, a presence— a body, bumping into me— Oh.
A girl. A pretty one at that. Her face is soft. Gentle. She looks pissed, but with a slight twinge of embarrassment. I can’t blame her. She’s with another girl— her friend I presume, who seems a little tipsy, so she most likely just wants to get her somewhere and move on.
I lean down after we both stare at eachother in a brief silence, sensing the slight awkwardness.
“Are you alright?”
The girl gives me a look up and down.
“Fine.”
She speaks quickly, but her voice is distinct—familiar even. I let the corner of my lips raise in amusement. I can recognise when someone has an accent relatively quickly— especially if it’s my own. She’s french..or has some kind of it in her.
She pulls away curtly so she isn’t leaning on me anymore. She eyes the women in my arms, then back up at me before her bottom lip juts out in a bemused expression. Her eyebrows raise right after. I can’t tell what she’s thinking, but it doesn’t seem positive.
“Sorry.”
She mumbled out her slight apology before turning to leave, hastily grabbing at her friend’s arm once more.
I scratch at my chin, my fingers rubbing at my goatee, eye twitching before jutting my hand out, landing on her forearm.
She stops, her head turning over her shoulder slowly. Her brows are furrowed as she gives me a one over, a gauging look on her face.
I don’t know why I did it, and neither does Virgil— clearly, as now he’s eyeing the both of us, lips slightly parted, one brow raised.
With the way this girl’s glaring at me, I feel like I should’ve regret it. I didn’t.
“Can I help you?” She asks, one brow raised.
My eyes travel down her, to the corset, the opening at her sternum to the capris she’s sporting. She carries herself with an energy that has no room for trifling activity.
That amuses me.
I take a step closer, my arms slipping from the girls either side of me. They look disappointed, gentle pouts on their faces, but say nothing.
“What’s your name?”
The girl sizes me up, the softness around her eyes sharpening mildly.
“And you need to know, why?”
Virgil’s eyes widen. Yikes. Out of the women they’ve approached before — which is slim to none with them always being the one’s approached, none have ever responded like that.
His arm also slips from around the girl he was with— she looks disappointed, just like the other two, trying to gain his attention again, but he shows no bother.
“Can’t I ask a girl a question?”
I question, a subtle smirk playing my lips.
Her eyes catch the girls again, this time a sly smile tugging at her. It’s most definitely sarcastic. She then nods to them, before looking back up at me.
“I think you’ve got enough girls you can question, don’t you?”
I pause. Oh. That’s not what I expected.
She drew her arm back slowly from my grip, and I let her. My eyes never leave hers.
“I’m trying to get my friend to the bathroom, do you mind?”
It’s not really a question. She’s already backing away, her friend staring at me, smiling and waving drunkenly.
“C’mon Kisha.”
Kisha.
Her friend.
Perfect. The name sticks in my head;
and then she’s gone, and she doesn’t look back.
Damn.
Virgil steps up to me as I do to him. His chin jerked towards where the girl had disappeared to.
“The fuck was that?”
I make a face, scowling and shrugging my shoulders as I watch the girl disappear, hips swaying with clear urgency.
“Don’t know. Didn’t get much of an answer out her.”
“What, she couldn’t see your face or something?”
“It’s dark, man, there’s only so much someone can see.”
Virgil raises his eyebrows, humming in response.
“You just making excuses. She don’t like your ass.”
A pause.
“You’ve lost your touch huh?”
I give the man a glare. He just shrugs before rolling his shoulders,
“She’s real pretty though.”
The captain looks my way, a certain glint in his eyes. I return the stare, my lips curling up at the corners.
