Your Bestfriend!felix Stories Are Too Good For Words!!!!I Imagine Once They "oficially" Their Relationship,

Your bestfriend!felix stories are too good for words!!!!I imagine once they "oficially" their relationship, NO OME will be surprised🙄there are probably wages on how long it'd take from them to admit( even Duncan was in it)

omg 😭 the betting pool definitely starts at the beginning of the summer and continues to grow,, and idk duncan just seems like he knows everything (and wouldn't be above making a comment or two that accidentally forces reader and felix to think about their feelings) so i feel like he'd end up winning it lmao

duncan realizing that he can't be too ominous and judgy to bestfriend! reader bc he can immediately tell it's only a matter of time until reader marries into the family: :(

duncan realizing that by dropping a few choice lines he'll be able to trigger a confrontation that leads to a confession that would leave him winning a sum larger than his annual salary: :)

also as far as a scene of them actually getting together...that's being saved for the longer fic <3 coming soon btw

in ur bestfriend!felix series do you think farleigh cares for the reader even if it’s just a little bit? like we all know how he can be (#1 shit stirrer) but it really got me thinking!! i don’t think he cared much when she first started hanging out with felix he was probably like ‘whatever just another one of his charity cases’ but would that change later on when he sees how felix really does care for her and she’s not going anywhere anytime soon or ever possibly sorry for the long rant!! i was rereading and the one u wrote were he refused to let her get high because of felix made me think 😭🫶

a/n omg me and @ker0senebunny were just discussing their dynamic potential

farleigh and reader have such potential for an oddly endearing frenemy arch,, they definitely still bully each other, but they bond over gossiping and (lightly, at least in reader's case) judging others, especially after farleigh finally realizies that reader isn't another one of felix's phases

also can def see them growing a smidge protective of each other?? like if farleigh makes a mean joke about reader they laugh,, but if someone else makes it they both kind of side eye each other 😭

anyways here’s a drabble that also briefly features slightly flustered felix and socially unsure ollie

"Here." Farleigh's standing in front of your spot on the couch, arm stretched forward lazily. You blink, eyeing what looks like a joint skeptically.

Farleigh isn't quite looking at you as he continues to hold out his offering, but he isn't moving away. You extend a hand, taking it from him cautiously. Smoking tonight wasn't really a goal, but you're not exactly feeling against it.

You sit up a little straighter, mentally debating if his attempt at socializing with you is a result of the small scale setting of tonight's plans or if he's just that high. Maybe it's both. "Thought I was on weed probation."

He sighs. "Do you want it or not?"

You tilt your chin up to frown at him, "Moody."

Farleigh's eyes finally meet yours. His scleras are tinged pink, making his gaze seem far off and slightly irritated. You bring the joint to your lips out of the instinctual desire to seem amicable. Farleigh's far from your best friend, but recently, there's been an undertone of understanding in your catty comments. More like Farleigh laughing with you than at you.

He steps past your legs before sitting next to you. Not the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you, but still, strange. Normally, on more low key nights like this, when it's just some of Felix's closer friends hanging around in an off campus apartment instead of a full fledged rager, Farleigh's close to the center of the action. Maybe he's more bothered by Oliver's presence than you thought.

After a beat of silence, Farleigh explains flatly, "It's different tonight." You're not sure you're following, but there's a good chance that Farleigh's high enough for it not to matter. "You're not drunk and tonight's...calmer, there's nothing for Felix to worry himself sick over."

You roll your eyes. "Felix doesn't get worried sick over me." You take another hit of the joint, pretending the gesture doesn't feel performative. "And either way, it's not his issue."

Farleigh scoffs. "Please."

"Please what?"

He leans forward, propping his head up on one elbow. "Sometimes you seem so smart, it's nice to know that in some ways you're still like a little kid."

Not the worst backhanded compliment he's ever hit you with. "Mhm."

Farleigh lets himself slump against the couch before extending a hand in your direction. A silent request. You hand him back the joint. "Oh, you're cold? Take my jacket. You're thirsty? I've already gotten you a water. You're tired? Give me a minute to say goodbye to some friends and then I'll tuck you in, lovie."

The general teasing is easy to dismiss until he tacks on Felix's favorite nickname for you. It doesn't feel right to hear it in a negative context. "Leave him alone. Felix is my friend and he's nice." You tap your fingers against your knee, body feeling much too relaxed for the annoyance that wants to break through. "It's not weird or anything."

Farleigh takes his time letting more smoke fill his lungs. "Defensive." You roll your eyes. "Look around, every girl here wishes Felix was that friendly with them." His sentence is a hint too loud for you to be comfortable. The last thing you need is for some girl to take it the wrong way and blame you for it. "His new lapdog probably feels the same."

It takes you a second longer than it should to get the reference. You're not exactly close with Oliver. He's new, and Felix really enjoys his company, but you've yet to bond with him. Something in you just hasn't been able to get there yet. Sometimes you'll see what Felix sees in him, but that isn't the same as feeling close to him. You want to like him, though, so you're sure it's only a matter of time before you click over something. Felix and you spend too much time together for it not to work out between you and Oliver eventually.

"That's mean." You turn to better face Farleigh, your shoulder sinking against the seat's cushioning at an uncomfortable angle. "Like really mean."

Part of the defense is instinctual. You're not one to make fun of people behind their backs just to act like you're friends in front of them. But it's also more than that. Felix wouldn't let anyone talk about you like that, and without him or Oliver there to fight against Farleigh's snark, it feels wrong to let that kind of thing go.

"Fine. Better analogy. Sometimes the way Oliver looks at Felix feels like he wants to be his escort, or something."

You understand what Farleigh's getting at almost immediately. There's this urge to please quality about Oliver that you can't judge him for. People want Felix to like them. People want Felix to love them. It's not a draw you'd ever fault anyone for falling for. But something about the concept of an 'escort' in this context makes you want to laugh. You bite your tongue.

Farleigh holds out the joint again. You take it back instinctually, taking a quick hit to avoid having to say anything right away. "Yeah, but isn't that everyone with Felix?"

You're not sure what the goal of your response is. A poor attempt at changing the subject and steering the conversation away from making fun of someone with no one there to defend them without alienating Farleigh entirely. It's a joke, and not a very good one, but with the way you and Farleigh start cracking up, no one would ever be able to tell.

"We're..." You try through a fit of giggles, "We're awful."

"No," Farleigh shakes his head once lazily, "Not awful. We're familial bonding."

You squint at him as he plucks the joint from between your fingers. "We're not related."

Farleigh brings the joint to his lips, taking a deep inhale. "No," he mumbles, "I'm just getting ahead of the inevitable."

It takes you a beat longer than it should to understand his reference. "Farleigh." He's smiling slightly, the look smug. "Felix and I are just friends. You know that."

His head falls against the back of the couch. "Does anyone ever get along with their in-laws?"

You steal the joint from him before letting your back hit the cushioning. "Shut up."

With your body angled forward, you can see the center of the living room. Felix is near the entrance to the kitchen, Oliver by his side.

When Felix's eyes land on yours, he grins. You smile back before finally bringing the joint back to your lips. By the time you're exhaling, you can see Felix nudging Oliver's shoulder.

"Here we go," Farleigh sighs, taking back the joint.

You ignore the comment in favor of tracking Felix's path across the room. The world parts for him, as always.

"Hi." You beam, stretching a hand forward as soon as Felix is within reach. He grabs your hand immediately, squeezing your palm against his. "Felix, Oliver."

Oliver nods once at the acknowledgement, "Hey."

Felix tugs on your arm gently. "Lovie, where've you been?" His thumb brushes against your knuckles. "Been looking for you."

"I've been here," you admit, "I was waiting for you guys to get back with everyone's drinks and then Annabel wanted to sit...and then Farleigh."

Felix nods as if you've said is something of great importance. "Farleigh treating you okay?"

Farleigh tilts his head, halfheartedly glaring at Felix. You grin. "Yeah, we're just chatting."

"Chatting," he muses, looking between you and Farleigh. Before you can respond, Felix is moving to sit, taking up the last of the couch's remaining space. He looks up at Oliver, noting the lack of room for a fourth person. Felix squeezes our hand. "Sit with me?"

You nod, instantly understanding what he's getting at. You're sure Farleigh will hold you leaving your spot to give Oliver the opportunity to sit next to him against you, but there's not much else you can do, so you stand.

Felix is pulling you towards him before you can fully register the fact that you're standing. You frown, an attempt at a wordless scolding. He beams at you, the picture of affectionate innocence.

As soon as you're sitting on his lap, he's setting one hand on your knee and the other on your shoulder. Felix is always warm in the same way. There's a soothingness to it, a familiarity that you can always trust.

Oliver doesn't move until Felix's hand drifts away from your leg to pat the now open spot on the couch. Farleigh leans back slightly to make it easier to throw you a look that seems to say that Oliver's proving his earlier point.

You don't generally find Farleigh's snideness funny. You're not in the habit at laughing at his comments or behaving differently in hopes of winning him over. But, there's something about the solidarity of the look paired with your high. You laugh.

"What?" Felix asks, leaning forward to rest his chin against your shoulder.

You shake your head. "Nothing." A pinch of guilt nips at you. "I'm--I'm high."

"Could tell." Felix grins, dipping his head forward to press a kiss against the start of your back. "Farleigh's a terrible influence, hard to imagine what the two of you were up to before me and Ollie got here."

Maybe it's the lingering guilt, or maybe it's because Oliver's been almost completely silent since he got here and you know what it's like to be that person. You don't know what it is, but something makes you want to look over at Oliver. "Don't know, what do you think we were up to, Oliver?"

"Oh," he starts, tapping a finger against the edge of his solo cup as if something about your sudden attention startled him. "Up to no good, 'm sure."

You smile. Oliver and you may not be close, but at least he doesn't have an issue with carrying on a bit. Some of Felix's friends do. The first time Felix left you alone at one of these things, you made the mistake of making a joke in front of a girl who just stared at you.

"Little faith," you accuse with a shake of your head that indicates a disappointment your smile doesn't match.

"We were talking about inevitability."

Felix turns his head to look at Farleigh, "And what's inevitable?"

Your nails press into the skin of your leg. Some instinct tells you to beat Farleigh to the punch. "Oh, our wedding, apparently."

Felix tenses. "Wh--what?"

"To Farleigh," you clarify as quickly as possible, "I promise I'm not planning on proposing any time soon, so you can relax."

His hand finds your knee again. "Right," Felix sighs through a dry laugh, "Cause I--" Felix pauses, his forehead falling to your shoulder. "Farleigh...he'll say anything when high, it's..." He scoffs.

You turn your head with no warning. Felix's head slips off your shoulder. He pouts. "So the thought of being married to me is that bad?"

"No." He stretches out the vowel sound in an attempt to buy himself some time. "I--" He leans in closer, eyes flitting away from you and towards your lap. "I didn't--not like--"

You laugh. "I'm making fun of you, Lex." His skin is still slightly flushed, a pink tinge to his cheeks that's almost masked by the low lighting. "Y'can relax."

Felix's lips part in mock offense. "Lovie." He leans his head forward, hiding his face against the side of your neck.

You giggle, lifting a hand to brush your fingers through his hair. "I know, I'm mean."

"Very." He's quiet for a moment, head resting against you even though the angle can't be comfortable. "It wouldn't be bad." Felix whispers the sentence so quickly and quietly you almost feel like you've imagined them.

Before you can respond, Felix lifts his head slightly, setting his chin back on your shoulder. "Me and Ollie were talking about leaving early, watching that movie you rented." He squeezes your arm, the gesture warm. "If you want to."

"Yeah," you grin, "Sounds fun."

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains

is felix’s best friend sofia coppola coded

yes yes yes!!

idk if you've seen priscilla but bestfriend!reader reminds me sm of that scene where priscilla is pinning pictures, fashion magazine pages, and letters/cards to her wall in her childhood bedroom

i just know bestfriend!reader has the prettiest dorm,, also feel like felix would randomly find pictures/magazines that remind him of reader and without warning would bring them over,, all of these are very lovingly and prominently displayed

also reader casually mentions this once at saltburn and venetia is like ?? since when

also feel like from time to time reader dresses like a lisbon sister

got past my internal biases and listened to some of eternal sunshine and loved it a lot more than i wanted to 😭

anyways all of this is a long way of saying we can’t be friends is so bestfriend!felix

i know the general consensus is that oliver is using bestfriend! reader to get to felix but i do wonder if the more he spends time around felix and you that the line between hate and something akin to what he feels for felix blur a little. when did he find your naivety become endearing instead of annoying; when did he find interest in kind of books that you often rattle on about— i think him liking reader is funny but also a good point of conflict for him and felix and just felix himself. kinda forces him to address his totally not platonic affections for reader. (also oliver and reader dynamic in my mind is basically just olivia rodrigo's lacy)

in honor of me now having officially seen lacy live :))

also i have had lacy on my mind for them for such a long time it feels like you've crawled into my brain omg

they also remind me of the song girl crush (i love the harry styles cover of that song omg)

----

"Stalker."

Oliver hadn't meant for the nail of his thumb to start tracing the sharp crease forever dented into the spine of one of your paperbacks, but the strangeness of it had been too tempting.

The Virgin Suicides. The title doesn't seem to suit your taste, and yet there it was, well worn and tucked into the corner of your small shelf lovingly, next to the first few installments of Harry Potter.

"Oh, I--" He should have been more focused, he should have worked harder at listening for you over the music coming from your CD player. "I was just..."

You're staring at him, charcoal colored product smeared beneath both of your eyes now. When he first showed up at your door, about fifteen minutes early, you had only completed your left eye.

The night has a way of changing you, of making you look a little older. The makeup, your low cut top, the length of your skirt. It all works together to blur away any uncertainty in the way you hold yourself. Oliver's seen it--you--like this before, but for whatever reason, it's hitting him harder than usual.

He swallows, fighting the thrown feeling to take in your expression. Your eyes give away little about what you're feeling, but the set of your lips betrays you. There's the slightest lift to the corner of your mouth. You're amused. You're joking.

"Kidding," you grin, "You can relax."

Oliver lets out an exaggerated breath to play up his relief. You're harder to crack than you should be, the most significant piece in the puzzle that is Felix's favor, but there are a few things that Oliver has figured out about you. The first is that your loyalty runs deep, so once he's in with you he's in for life.

The second is that you like being the good guy. It's not the same as Felix's desire to play in the macabre until it, too, bends to his will and morphs into something good, but it's similar enough. You like making people feel at ease, you like having people trust you.

"Do you read?" Your question is genuine. You even lean against your bathroom's doorframe to make it clear that you're listening.

The fact that you felt the need to ask reminds Oliver of how little you actually know about him. Felix is attached to you like he is no other, so Oliver's been around you, but he hasn't managed to make it across the line that divides friendly from friend. You're polite, kind even, but it's clear that something about Oliver hasn't clicked with you. Yet.

Your unfamiliarity should shake him, should make him regret pretending to get the time wrong to buy himself some time alone with you in an attempt to thaw the ice. But if anything, his novelty in your mind grounds him. Any indifference or dislike you feel towards him isn't personal. You just don't know him.

To you, Oliver is a blank canvas that he can paint to reflect exactly what you want in a friend. "A little," he answers, "I've gotten more into it recently, still looking for recommendations."

"You can borrow the one you were looking at, if you want." There's a shy quality to your response that briefly gives him a flash of what Felix might see in you. "It's a little eerie, but beautiful. Definitely one of those books you'll either really love or really hate, no in-between."

Oliver nods. Reading isn't a terrible way to find an in with you. "Sounds interesting." He takes a slight step forward. "Hopefully, I'll love it because after what you said to Lucas in class, I'm scared to not agree with you."

Your eyes briefly dart to the ground, a bashful grin playing at your lips. "Oh my god, don't remind me."

The one good thing about Oliver's too-brutal-for-an-elective literature for creative writing class is the fact that it gives him something to have in common with you.

"You made good points." You shake your head at the compliment, expression still lighthearted enough for Oliver to know that he's still treading on safe ground. "And honestly, needed a break from hearing Lucas's thoughts on the canon for the fifth time in the same hour."

"Thank you." Your tone is full of the satisfaction that comes from vindication. "He's the worst kind of English major."

"The worst," he echoes.

Your smile hints at a camaraderie that Oliver should find satiating. After all, that's what he came here for. A few stolen moments in which Felix wouldn't be able to distract either of you.

Oliver's eyes drift towards the collage decorating the wall your bed is pressed against. A lot of it is made up of scraps, pieces from magazines, post cards and notes from friends, some scrapbooking material to fill awkward spaces. But there are also pictures. Most of them of you and Felix.

A disposable clearly taken by your best friend stands out. You're laughing, Felix is staring at you, the arm that isn't holding the camera around your shoulders. There's an unabashed affection behind Felix's gaze that Oliver can feel in the pit of his stomach. It'd be one thing if the two of you were drunk or inebriated in one way, but the background of the photo is so mundane. The two of you are in a coffee shop, daylight still streaming in from the window next to you.

What is about you?

The question cuts through him from the inside out, the same way it always does. This, his mind reminds him, this is why he doesn't let himself be around you...because he can pretend all he wants, can attempt to convince himself that the visceral feeling that strikes him in the chest whenever you laugh; or pull your lips into a pout; or look at him like he's more than static is as simple as hatred. It won't change anything.

You'll still be goodhearted, enough of you rooted in your own world to let you stay that way. You'll still have that off kilter sense of humor and the way you pinch your eyebrows together when you're pretending to get something everyone else does. You'll still have your cherry lip gloss and perfectly smudged eyeliner. You'll still be the one that Felix eventually realizes he's in love with.

There's no reason to hold this against you. You're blissfully unaware of most of the things that twist Oliver's stomach into careful knots, and the little you're actually aware of, you're kind about.

Oddly enough, that only makes it worse.

The sharp nausea that comes from thinking about you too much isn't something to act on. If Oliver lets himself lean into his bitterness even slightly, all of his careful planning will have been for nothing. Felix would never keep anyone around that hurt you. Even Farleigh's learned to temper his snark, keeping any comments made about you lighthearted enough for you to laugh off.

Besides, there's nothing to gain from hurting you. With those eyes and soft, eager to please smiles, it'd probably feel like kicking a puppy.

"You sounded good, though," he mumbles, "Smart."

You beam at him, the look so warm and real Oliver's once again forced to understand why Felix cares about you so much. "I think I sounded a little crazy, but I like your version better." You scratch the back of your arm, the movement almost nervous. "Thanks."

He forces a smile, letting silence fall over the two of you. If you were as predictable as the others, Oliver would have some kind of direction on what to give you.

"If you want something to drink..." You trail off, head turning to look at the mini fridge tucked into the corner of your dorm. "Felix was going to bring something, because my fridge is basically empty. I think I have some leftover vodka in my closet, but it's the mixed drink bottle from last week, so a single shot could be a lot...and it's pink now, and I think it was more orange last week."

You shift your weight from foot to foot as you ramble. "But I don't remember a lot of last Saturday. Ironically, because of what's in the closet." You let out a self deprecating laugh. "But no judgement if you want to be that drunk. Seriously."

It's the kind of statement that would feel sarcastic from anyone else. Oliver can tell you mean it.

He didn't plan on getting that drunk tonight, but then again, he rarely does. Oliver's gotten into the habit of following Felix's lead, letting him set the tone of the night.

"We could do a shot together." Oliver keeps his voice low, casual in its hesitance.

Taking shots with people you're not the most familiar with seems to be your form of low stakes bonding. More often than not, it seems to be a girl thing, but Oliver's seen enough exceptions to not feel weird about asking. The only time Farleigh openly gets along with you is after the two of you make a game of who can down a round fastest.

"Yeah." You smile, visibly easing. "Sounds fun."

Oliver has a feeling that your relief is more about having something to do with your hands than the promise of alcohol. The only part of you that ever indicates insecurity is your uncertainty. Like you're afraid someone's going to tap you on your shoulder and tell you that something about your last social interaction was objectively wrong.

You turn, walking towards your closet. There's the creek of old hinges and then a slight laugh. "If we get drunk enough before Felix gets here, he's going to have a really stressful night."

You're different when you're drunk, touchier and more susceptible. Oliver swallows. You could be joking. You're usually joking.

"He could use some stress," he mumbles, attempting to reflect your usual brand of humor, "He's had it too good for too long."

You laugh again, the sound fuller this time as you shut the closet door. "Where would he be without us to humble him?"

The thought of him holding the same level of significance in Felix's life as you do clouds Oliver's mind. That is so you, to say something so inviting and disorientating just as he's resolving the way he sees you. "Nowhere good."

You place a small, plastic cup in front of him before setting down your own. The liquid in the bottle is an egregious shade of pink for what once was plain vodka. You were right to point it out. Oliver's stomach starts to turn just looking at it.

"Okay," you start filling his cup first, as innocently as if you were offering him lemonade. "This might kill us."

Oliver doubts anything that bad would ever happen to someone like you. He watches you fill your own cup, the liquid draining from the bottle much faster than it should. "It might with the way you're pouring it."

"What?" You start twisting the lid back onto the bottle. "That's a standard shot."

"Standard to who?" The question is more for the sake of arguing than genuine concern. A lot of your friendship with Felix seems to be made up of pointless bickering.

You glare at him, "I don't know, like standard standard."

You're the kind of person that enjoys reading for fun and sitting by the pond to feed ducks and yet you're willing to drink like that. "Sounds exact."

You pick up your cup, squinting at its contents. "Standard-ish." Clearly. You extend your arm slightly, Oliver takes the hint, picking up his own overfilled cup. He taps the edge of his cup against yours. You return the gesture immediately. "One...two..."

The two of you down your drinks in unison. You both regret your choices immediately. It's more than just the sting of alcohol, it's the nauseating taste of everything that was considered left over at the end of last week's party mixed together.

His eyes meet yours, and there's an immediate, wordless understanding. That was disgusting. Despite your mutual repulsion, the two of you are smiling.

Oliver's reminded of a gesture he's seen you and Felix exchange between rounds. A version of a kiss so quick and casual, it does manage to pass as something close to platonic. At the very least, platonic compared to you on Felix's lap, you in Felix's bed in nothing but his T-shirt...

You smell like Felix. It doesn't matter how much of that start-of-spring perfume you wear, it never fully covers the faint aroma of cigarettes and luxury fabric softener. Oddly enough, the artificial scent seems determined to linger on anything that isn't you, often making Felix smell like you. It's such a common occurrence, sometimes if Oliver's not thinking about it, it's hard to remember what comes from you and what comes from him.

It's easy to wonder if that level of entanglement applies to other things. If you'd feel like Felix. You wear his clothes often enough. Or, if Felix feels like you. He's in the habit of using the lotions and products you leave in his room.

You set down your disposable cup. "That was a lot grosser than I remember it."

"A lot," he echoes, discarding his own cup.

----

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny

Omg since we're talking about the birthdays on the gravestones, I did not realize that Venetia was the oldest sibling. Throughout the entirety of the film, I figured Felix was the older one, but nope if the graves are to be believed then she was born 10 April 1986. I mean she's not older by much, but wow Elspeth and Sir James were really putting the work in trying to get a son. I find it very fitting that Felix is the baby of the family lol.

omg love this detail!!

i've always thought felix has youngest sibling, golden child, prodigal's son energy lol and venetia is def the older sister that has accepted that her parents will never see her the way they see her little brother to the point where there isn't even a rivalry, it's just how it is and has always been

i've seen so many discussions on different birth orders for them and what that could mean for the family dynamic as a whole and the characters as individuals

there are so many that bring up interesting points about felix being older,, one time i saw a post on here (that i wish i could remember 😭) that analyzed venetia and felix as twins and i thought that was so interesting and felt so fitting bc i feel like elspeth would hate pregnancy/birth bc if you think about it,, pregnancy is the kind of thing that could horrify someone like elspeth

no hate to pregnancy i promise 😭 i just feel like elspeth's character would be kind of disgusted by it--you grow, you're prodded at, you're prone to morning sickness, and your skin and hair can lose their luster (which is part of the reason i love the interpretation of felix and venetia as twins, bc i think it's extremely conceivable that she'd get pregnant once and be like okay that wasn't for me)

maybe that's why felix is so special to her, he brought the relief of never having to be pregnant again

anyways that was a bit of a tangent <3