Désiré Doué x Fem!Reader
sy: friends to lovers with angst, where doué has always been your biggest headache: too charming, too flirty, and impossible to take seriously. but somewhere between late-night conversations, lingering looks, and feelings neither of you are willing to admit, the line between friendship and something more starts to blur. the problem? timing has never been on your side.
a/n: not sure if i actually like this one đ but i was craving some angst and i barely ever come across angsty douĂ© fics, so i decided to do it myself. and honestly? a little advice from me: sometimes you just have to go for it, even when you're scared it'll end terribly. maybe it will, maybe it won't, but at least you'll know. at least you won't spend years stuck wondering what could've happened if you'd been a little braver. like pablo vittar said: better to regret it than spend your life wishing you had done it. hahaha
sorry if there are any writing or translation mistakes
The problem with Doué was that he never seemed serious.
Or maybe the problem was you.
Because when you looked back at everything that happened, it was impossible to tell when things went wrong. Whether it was when he turned every conversation into flirting or when you decided you would never believe anything that came out of his mouth.
"You know you're the prettiest girl here, right?"
He was sprawled across a friend's couch when he threw out another one of his usual lines. That careless smile was already on his face before the words even left his mouth.
You let out a disbelieving laugh and rolled your eyes.
"You said the same thing to Camille last week."
Doué pressed a hand dramatically against his chest.
"But I'm saying it to you now."
"Because she rejected you."
And it was always like that.
Doué flirted the way other people breathed. It came naturally to him. Teasing comments, lingering smiles, quick touches on your arm whenever he wanted your attention, random messages in the middle of the night just because he couldn't sleep.
For a moment, he always made you feel special and then the next week he'd be interested in another girl and then another.
So you learned not to take any of it seriously.
The guy who made everyone feel like they mattered and you never allowed yourself to think you could be any different. Maybe that's why you didn't notice right away when things started changing or maybe you noticed and simply chose to ignore it.
He started showing up more often. Texting for no reason. Suddenly asking how your exam went, how your mom was doing, or whether you'd finally watched that movie you'd been talking about for weeks.
He remembered tiny details that nobody else ever did.
One afternoon, while you were studying, he somehow knew you'd been stuck there for hours. So he showed up carrying your favorite coffee because, according to him, it would make you feel better.
You looked from him to the drink.
"How did you know? I was dying for one of these."
"Because it's your favorite."
It should've been something simple, but it wasn't. Because nobody remembered things like that. Nobody paid attention that way and for the first time, it felt like he was trying.
The problem was that you couldn't believe it.
Every time he said something sweet, your mind immediately found a way to dismiss it.
So you started pulling away.
Nothing obvious enough for him to call you out on, but enough for you to feel safer. You took longer to answer messages. Changed the subject whenever conversations drifted somewhere too personal. Pretended not to notice certain looks.
Because the truth was becoming impossible to ignore.
Deep down, you knew you liked him, just didn't want to admit it.
You liked the conversations that stretched until three in the morning. The way he always managed to make you laugh when you were having a bad day. The excitement of seeing his name pop up on your screen.
And that was exactly why you didn't want to get hurt.
You spent most of the evening lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling and searching for an excuse convincing enough to stay home. If your friends hadn't practically dragged you out of the house, you probably wouldn't have left at all.
On the way there, your phone buzzed.
You replied with one emoji.
When you arrived, you found Doué before you even had the chance to greet anyone else.
His smile appeared instantly.
"I thought you weren't coming."
"Good thing you were wrong."
The party carried on with loud music, overlapping conversations, and colorful lights flashing around the room, but throughout the entire night, Doué seemed to orbit around you.
He brought you drinks without asking if you wanted one. Sat beside you whenever a seat became available. Invented ridiculous excuses to touch your arm or lean closer than necessary.
More than once, you caught your friends exchanging knowing looks. Like they could all see something you were only just beginning to see yourself.
And maybe... maybe you could give him a chance.
It was the first time you allowed that thought to exist.
And that's exactly why what happened next hurt so much.
At some point during the night, you lost sight of him.
You didn't think much of it at first. The house was crowded, people constantly moving from one room to another, disappearing into conversations and reappearing somewhere else a few minutes later. It wasn't unusual.
Still, after a while, you found yourself looking for him.
At least, that's what you told yourself.
Your eyes just seemed to search for him automatically, drifting through the crowd whenever there was a pause in the conversation.
And honestly, it would've been better if you hadn't.
He was kissing your friend.
For a second, everything around you continued exactly as it had before. The music was still loud. People were still laughing. Someone nearby was arguing over a song request.
And you tried to act normal too, because you weren't anything. Just friends. There was no reason to feel jealous.
But maybe you felt a little angry at yourself. For letting yourself believe and letting yourself think that maybe, just maybe, you could've given him a chance.
But something inside you sank.
You didn't cry. Why would you? The two of you weren't together, and you kept reminding yourself that you were just friends, that there was no reason for tears, no reason to feel entitled to his choices.
Because once again, you reminded yourself that he didn't owe you anything.
But the problem wasn't the kiss itself; it was what it represented. When the moment came for him to choose, he chose someone else, and that hurt far more than the kiss ever could.
You left early that night.
The ride home was quiet, the city lights blurring together outside the window as you stared at them without really seeing anything. Somewhere between one street and the next, you made yourself a promise "Never again. Never again would you believe him, wouldn't let yourself hope and most importantly, you wouldn't give him another chance to make you feel like an option. "
A few weeks later, you were on a call with some friends when the conversation somehow drifted back to the party.
The moment it was mentioned, your stomach dropped.
"You know what's funny?" one of them said.
You already knew you weren't going to like whatever came next.
"That was the day you were finally going to give him a chance."
"What?" another friend asked.
"She did," the first one insisted. "Everyone noticed."
You buried your face in your hands.
"I'm serious. That was the first time she was actually willing to give him a chance."
You wanted the ground to swallow you whole.
Then came the sentence that ruined any chance of pretending otherwise.
"But he made the wrong choice."
SilĂȘncio novamente. SĂł que desta vez, algo parecia diferente, porque nĂŁo era apenas o silĂȘncio constrangedor da conversa. Era o silĂȘncio de alguĂ©m ouvindo. AlguĂ©m que ainda estava na chamada e ninguĂ©m percebia que ainda estava ali.
The realization hit everyone at the same time. For a moment, nobody said anything. Then the call ended.
At first, the messages were cautious. A simple text asking if what your friend said was true. Then another and another.
Soon they became impossible to ignore.
Long paragraphs, voice notes and missed calls.
Explanations that somehow turned into confessions.
"You got everything wrong."
"We could've been something."
The worst part was that a piece of you wanted to believe every word.
Because despite everything, there were moments when he sounded sincere. Moments when you found yourself staring at your screen for several minutes, rereading his messages and wondering if you'd made a mistake.
Because you still remembered the party. The choice he made. And most of all, the feeling of being someone's second option.
And maybe the worst part was that you wanted to believe him. You really did. When he said he liked you, part of you believed him.
But the anger was stronger, the pride was stronger too and the fear...
Because what if you gave him a chance?
What if you finally believed him?
Would he treat you like just another girl?
Would he do the same thing he always did?
He always seemed to get it wrong.
Why would this time be any different?
Even when you missed him.
Even when you smiled at his messages before remembering you weren't supposed to.
Even when part of you wanted to stop fighting and simply see where things could go.
Eventually, he stopped trying.
The messages became less frequent until they eventually stopped altogether. The calls disappeared soon after, and before you realized it, the silence had taken over the space he used to occupy in your life.
Or at least it pretended to.
One afternoon, months later, you opened Instagram and saw a picture of him.
Doué was standing beside a girl you'd never seen before. She was beautiful, effortlessly so, and the smile on his face looked genuine in a way that made something twist inside your chest.
Your heart squeezed a little. Just for a second.
Then you smiled too, because he looked happy. And despite everything, that's what you wanted for him.
Months passed after that.
Then one night, he appeared in a dream.
Nothing dramatic happened. There were no grand confessions. No movie-worthy declarations of love.
In the dream, you were simply together. Sitting side by side. Talking. Laughing. Existing in that comfortable way people do when they've known each other for years. It felt ordinary. The kind of life people usually overlook. But this time, you belonged to each other.
You woke up with that familiar ache in your chest.
That strange longing for something that never existed.
You grabbed your phone and opened Instagram.
Only to find reality waiting for you.
There he was, holding her close, kissing her, loving someone who wasn't you. His life was moving forward exactly the way it was supposed to, and for a moment all you could do was stare at the screen, trying to ignore the ache settling in your chest.
His life continuing exactly the way it was supposed to. You stared at the screen for a few seconds before locking your phone. Because at the end of the day, there was never a relationship to get over.
What remained were only possibilities and unanswered questions, a version of your life that had come so close to existing that sometimes it felt like a memory rather than a fantasy.
And maybe that's exactly why it still hurt.
You didn't miss something you lost.
You missed something you never had or something that almost happened.
Because if someone asked what existed between you and Doué, the answer would be simple.
But every now and then, late at night, when a sad song came on or a memory appeared out of nowhere, you'd still think about him.
And wonder if, on that one night....
If he'd chosen you at that party...
Or if you had finally given in when he kept insisting, just to see what would've happened...
Would you be nothing more than a memory now?
Or would the two of you have been something?
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