#ligue 1

Where he has a secret relationship with the reader (maybe she works for psg/barca) and the reader and him had a fight or something about what they are and they kind of avoid each other for a couple days until there is a charity gala and someone else asks reader (if she works for psg/barca it can be a co-worker) and when she shows up with another man, he gets angry/jealous and after a while of glaring daggers at the man he goes over to them and makes a big deal being very clingy with reader and then takes her up to the rooftop to talk and they FINALLY label their relationship

Sorry if the request is really long 😭😭

rooftop realizations

pairing: Désiré Doué x reader

summary: the req

warnings: jealousy, arguments, kissing

a/n: that's so creative i love it

It had been three days.

Three painfully long days since your argument with Désiré. You’d called him out—asked what you were to each other. His silence had been deafening.

You hadn’t spoken since.

Working at PSG meant you couldn’t avoid him forever, but he’d done a good job of keeping his distance. Cold glances, short replies, walking out of a room just as you entered. It stung more than you’d expected. Or maybe... more than you were willing to admit.

But tonight wasn’t about him—it couldn’t be. The annual PSG Charity Gala was too public, too full of eyes and expectations. You’d said yes when your colleague Matthieu had offered to be your plus-one. He was charming, harmless, and had no clue he was about to be used as emotional armor.

The black dress you wore was elegant, backless, borderline sinful—and it fit perfectly with the low simmer of chaos brewing inside you.

---

You didn’t see Désiré until later in the evening. But the second you walked in with Matthieu’s arm looped through yours, you felt him.

His eyes found you from across the room, all heat and tension. He was stunning in a sharp midnight-blue suit, lips tight, jaw clenched. You held his gaze longer than you meant to. His eyes dropped to where Matthieu’s hand sat at your waist. When they flicked back to yours, they burned.

You smiled sweetly and turned away.

---

Fifteen minutes later, you caught him again—leaning against the bar, watching. Still. You were trying to focus on Matthieu’s joke when Désiré appeared beside you, uninvited.

“Good evening,” he said smoothly, though his voice had a razor’s edge.“

Désiré,” Matthieu said, nodding respectfully.

Désiré ignored him.

Instead, he stepped closer to you. Too close. His fingers brushed your lower back, then stayed there, possessive and deliberate. “Can we talk?”

“I’m a little busy,” you replied, lifting your glass.

“With him?” he asked, tone sharp.

You raised your eyebrows. “That’s none of your business, remember?

”He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, now I’m not allowed to care?”

Before you could respond, his hand slid around your waist and tugged you gently but firmly toward him. “We’re done pretending,” he said against your ear, low and furious. “Let’s talk. Now.”

You didn’t protest. Not because he was right. But because you wanted this conversation more than you could admit.

---

Rooftop. Cool air. Tense silence.

You stepped away from him the moment you were alone.

“Jealous much?” you asked, arms crossed.

He didn’t deny it. “You think it’s easy seeing you with someone else?”

“You had three days to say something,” you snapped. “You could’ve come to me. You didn’t. So what was I supposed to do, Désiré? Just keep waiting?”

“I was scared,” he admitted, voice raw now. “Scared that if I gave this a name, it would mean more than just sneaking around, or stolen kisses in the physio room, or late nights after practice—because it does mean more.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his honesty.

He stepped closer. “You matter to me. Not just in secret. Not just behind closed doors. I want this—you. In the open. Fully. No more games.”

Your chest tightened, and his fingers reached out, brushing yours. “Please,” he whispered, “tell me I didn’t fuck this up for good.”Y

ou stared at him for a long second.

Then you finally breathed, “What are we, Désiré?”

He stepped even closer, cupping your cheek gently. “We’re real. That’s what we are.”

And when he kissed you—slow, aching, certain—it wasn’t hidden anymore.

ROMA CAN WIN A SCUDETTO

MONACO ARE SECRETLY THE BEST TEAM IN LIGUE 1

THE SABRES WILL NEVER LOSE AGAIN

CHARLES IS THE BEST DRIVER ON THE GRID

LANCIA WILL DOMINATE WRC2

CSG. 20’s. Tall baddie. Sports, mostly.

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