How Old Are They? (best Friend!felix X Reader)
how old are they? (best friend!felix x reader)
short answer: felix is late 19/20, reader feels late 17/18 (i like the thought of reader having skipped a grade bc one of her main insecurities is constantly wanting to seem older bc being mature is the one thing her dad prasied her for)
elaboration below the cut!!
i saw a picture of Saltburn's script that says felix is supposed to be 20,, ig that could be wrong bc of editing/verification,,
i don't remember his age ever being explicitly stated in the movie though, but i feel like it's implied (through his status/familiarity in an on campus routine) that he's not a first year/a little bit older than oliver, but i do picture felix as 20 (maybe late 19 if i ever want to write a blurb where reader and felix are celebrating his birthday)
also it just feels like a good age for him! just starting to get his foothold in the adult world, enough youthful idealism still in his system to want to make someone as "tragic" as oliver his project when a safer choice would have been someone a little shinier,, and just as he's leaving his teenage years behind, he dies (ironically and arguably bc of the youthfully naive concepts his family life would have encouraged him to keep into adulthood) :(
so now instead of being forever 20 bc of his comfortable life style, he's forever 20 bc he has to be,, in a way oliver got to know the only version of felix he would ever know but i digress
bestfriendreader feels like a 17/18 year old freshman to me (hear me out),, i like reader as a freshman bc it's one more thing that should make reader feel closer to oliver,, but she just doesn't, which adds to their dynamic that i haven't shared much of but i will!!
also,, i see bestfriend!reader as someone that's spent their entire life hanging out with people a little older, constantly striving to seem more mature/be a grown up bc her mom's a free spirit and her dad only praises her when she handles his disappointments "like an adult"
also something about bestfriend!reader being on campus for like two weeks, hearing every story on earth about felix and his friends that he's more of an enigma than person (campus celebrity vibes) that she doubts is that impressive until he sits down next to her in class and starts talking is cute idk,, like reader not even realizing how big a deal felix's interest in her is until one of her friend's is like dude.
it's the kind of luckiness that oliver originally hates her for,, reader walked onto campus,, new to oxford,, new to the country, and still manages to snag felix's attention without even trying
idk if the age gap is weird tho😭 (i'm 20 rn and would never date a 17/18 year old but my best friend is 18, started college at 17 bc she was ahead a year and when she was that age she dated 19/20 year olds that went to school with her and that didn't feel weird bc they have enough in common bc of their setting) sooo i'm open to reader having an early enough birthday that she's 18 by the time her and felix get close,, i like the idea of writing a birthday fic anyway lol
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More Posts from Yesimwriting
but i think deep (or maybe not so deep) down,, felix thinks he's going to end up with reader,, like they're meant to settle down together one day
This made me imagine a scenario where bestfriend!Felix is cuddling with reader and they have a conversation that goes something like this
Felix: what would you name our children?
Reader: ??Children??! We haven't even kissed though??
It's funny to think that Felix is imagining his entire future with reader and reader is over here still clueless and thinking they're just really close friends 😭
omg he for sure would bring this up himself and then immediately gets flustered if reader entertained the thought,, he's so neat 🩷
----
The morning, or, more accurately, the early afternoon is slipping away. It's almost impossible to feel the passage of time while tangled in Felix's sheets, but you're sure it's too late in the day to still be in bed like this.
You and Felix have been quiet, like you always are when you first wake up after a long night out, too groggy and hungover to do much more than be next to each other. Conversation usually leads to the end of the morning's peacefulness anyway, with one of you mentioning something about breakfast or class or other weekend plans.
You're glad to lay here as long as possible, taking your time memorizing the feel of Felix's skin beneath your fingertips. But you and Felix have been awake for awhile now, and you do still have that homework that Felix convinced you could wait until later.
"Okay," you mumble, voice raspy with sleep, "It's been awhile." You smooth your knuckles against his bare shoulder. "We should get up."
He groans, shifting off of his side and onto his back. "Few more minutes." You're about to protest when he stretches out an arm, searching blindly until his palm finds your back. You sigh at the suggestion, but still move to rest your cheek against his chest. "It's Saturday."
Warmth begins to burn its way up your chest. Despite how comfortable you are with Felix, you're still never sure how to act when he decides to go to bed shirtless. "And I have an essay for Redman's class."
He trails his fingers down your back. "That's not due until the end of the week."
You lift your head, chin pressing into his side so you can properly glare. "How do you know that?"
He smiles, the look much too pleased for something so small. "Had lunch with Ollie yesterday."
Right. You should have guessed the answer. Oliver's the only person in that class that you know, which is kind of nice in its own way. You always have someone to sit and do group work with, and if you ever have to be absent you know Oliver takes good note. However, it also means that there's someone to let Felix know your deadlines. Which is usually okay, unless you're in the mood to work ahead and Felix is in the mood for anything else.
"He is such a homework snitch."
Felix laughs, "Homework snitch?"
"You know what I mean."
"'Y'mean," he starts, his thumb brushing past your shirt's collar, "You're sick of me and looking for an excuse to leave."
You roll your eyes, dipping your head forward and pressing a quick kiss against his side. "Exactly." Felix attempts to glare, but with the way his nose scrunches slightly at the unexpected contact, it falls flat. "You know I'm never tired of you."
"Really?" You nod, more focused on the realization that Felix might be ticklish than his probing tone. "Never?"
You nod again, the motion absentminded, "Never." Carefully, you lift your head a little more, propping it up on one arm. "Lex, are you ticklish?"
"No."
Too immediate, too firm.
You're quick, hand moving off a pillow, fingers aiming for his side. Felix is faster, his arm shifting forward in an attempt to stop you. You move your arm back, fingers brushing against his lower side. Felix laughs, the sound nervous. You grin, satisfied.
The brief moment you take to feel your feel victory is your downfall. Felix's hand presses against your wrist, pinning your hand flat against his stomach. "Lovie," he tries, still recovering from his laughing fit, "Play nice."
You look up at him, expression pure innocence, "I always play nice."
"Mhm."
His doubt is offensive. You pout. "I do." You attempt to straighten, Felix's hold on your hand tightens. "I'm going to lay down." He eyes you skeptically. "As a sign of goodwill. Promise."
He loosens his grip before turning your palm over. You intertwine your fingers, squeezing his hand as you lay your head down. "Any plans for today?"
"No." Felix smooths circles against your back. "Just you."
You're glad that your head's turned away from him so that you don't have to mask your grin. "Good."
"Good?"
You drag your thumb against his knuckles. "You know I'm prone to fits of jealousy."
Felix laughs so gently you feel the movement of his chest more than you hear it. "Sounds like you."
Even though there isn't anything hilarious about your joke and Felix has done a lot more to go along with your bits, you laugh too.
Comfortable silence is just beginning to blanket the two of you again when Felix speaks again, "Lovie?" You hum in acknowledgement. "Do you--" He cuts himself off. "Do you want to get married?"
Now you're really glad that your face is turned away from him. "I--I'm going to need a better proposal before answering."
His hand briefly stalls against the fabric of your T-shirt. "No," he huffs the word in a way that's almost a laugh. "I didn't--I mean--I meant generally. At some point."
Oh. A serious question that's a lot less fun than when you could pretend he was proposing. "Oh--uh, I don't know. I mean, it didn't exactly work out for my mom, but some people seem to--" You let out a breath in an attempt to give yourself some time to think through your response. It's not like you've never thought about marriage, but it's not something you have a concrete answer on. "I think so, maybe."
Your own flakiness feels like a cop out response. You swallow before trying again, "If I can find someone I trust, like really trust." Squeezing Felix's hand for assurance, you give yourself another moment to contemplate. "And also, I'd have to be sure that they're the kind of person I can be around forever without feeling drained."
Finally feeling okay with your response, you're ready to move on by asking Felix about his own thoughts on marriage. Before you can turn the conversation, Felix says, "Like the way you trust me?"
Your face burns. "Yeah," you mumble, too distracted by your sudden shyness to even think to joke about it, "Something like that." You're still more flustered than you want to be. "I also said I'd have to not get tired of them, so..."
Felix scoffs, "Oh, don't start." He lifts the hand he's holding, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm. "We'd be happy."
You're quiet because there's nothing you can say. Felix is only teasing, but the more you think about marrying him, the more real the joke feels. Even though he's only your best friend and there's nothing romantic about your relationship, you would be happy with him. How could you not? He's considerate, always putting your feelings first, and you could get used to a lifetime of waking up by his side.
"Do you have any name preferences?"
You lift your head enough to look at him. "What?"
Felix's gaze briefly meets yours before dropping his attention back to your intertwined hands. "Baby names."
Your lips part in surprise, and for a long second, all you can do is blink at him. "Are you still drunk?"
He shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'm making conversation."
Okay, a little weird, but if Felix is being so casual about it, maybe you're overthinking it. "Okay," you mumble skeptically, "You probably come with a ton of family, traditional names." His thumb brushes down the back of your hand. "I like the name Lux," you finally manage, "For a girl."
"Lux," he repeats, more to himself than you.
You let yourself openly watch him. "I guess it depends on how many kids we have."
Felix turns his head slightly, teeth grazing against his bottom lip. "Two or three." His eyes focus on the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. "I mean, I like the idea of two or three."
"Two or three?" You haven't given much thought to the number of children you want. You grew up an only child, mainly around your mother, and that was a little lonely despite her best efforts. You like the general idea of siblings, but with that comes multiple pregnancies and labor. "That's a long time to be pregnant."
He squeezes your shoulder, the gesture comforting. "We don't have to have them right away."
You lay your head down again, temple resting against his side. It's not a terrible thing to imagine, not in the slightest. Felix with a baby in his arms and a toddler or two hanging off his leg. Children with different combinations of your features--a little boy with your hair and his kind eyes, a baby girl with his charming smile and your nose.
Okay--that's enough of that train of thought. The last thing you need is to actually start wanting your best friend to propose. "Considering how far we are from married, I'd hope not."
"Wow," he breathes, dragging the word out. You turn your head, doing your best to look up at him. "I see."
"See what?"
His hand trails down your back warmly. "We're too young for me to propose."
Embarrassment has you attempting to pull away so that you can defend yourself. Felix doesn't let you get too far, his hand on your back making it hard to do much more than hold up your head. "No, I didn't--"
"We're still in school, Lovie. It'd be irresponsible."
The amusement coloring his expression has you glowering. He is so impossible. "Your tone is irresponsible."
"Moody." You're about to protest when he pulls your hand to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "Want to go to breakfast?"
You rest your chin near his stomach. "Is it early enough for breakfast?"
He turns his head, neck stretching at an awkward angle to look at his bedside clock. "If we go to the place down the road with the all day breakfast menu."
You smile, "Cool." You wipe at your eyes with the back of your palm. "You realize to go we have to get up, get ready..."
"Hm," he hums, pretending to contemplate, "Give me five minutes?"
You are starting to feel hungry, but everything's so much warmer this close to Felix. You're comfortable, and it's not like there's a time constraint on breakfast. "Okay, five minutes."
Felix grins, pulling your hand towards him again. He brushes his lips against the back of your palm. "That's my girl."
You roll your eyes in an attempt to hide any obvious signs of total contentment before laying your head down again.
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny
Elle!! You should post more best friend!Felix I’m so obsessed with it❤️❤️
hi babe <3 i have sm best friend!felix in the works/drafts,, i've just been busy with midterm,, but i'm finally recovering from a violent case of frat flu so i finally have some energy
and i love you all and best friend!felix very much so have a drabble
----
Felix presses a nail against the wrapper's edge. The waxy paper bends upwards, giving him the leverage needed to tear it off the hard candy. He parts his lips, pressing the lollipop against his tongue.
Cherry. An entire pack of just cherry.
He came close to purchasing his usual variety pack at the corner store while picking up cigarettes, but at the last second, he saw them there. Next to the cashier.
It had been an impulse to trade out the candies. Felix read the word cherry in cartoonish cursive and was immediately reminded of you, of your soft laughter breaking up tipsy kisses. The taste that lingers on cigarettes when you're both drunk enough to convince him to let you try a few puffs of one. It forced him to feel the phantom residue of your lipgloss, to taste it as his lips pressed together.
As if sensing the direction of his thoughts, you finally look up from the notes in front of you. He can feel a smile tugging itself into place and the warmth that's beginning to tinge his skin. "What?"
You tilt your head slightly, like something about the question's surprised you. Not unusual, sometimes if you study for too long you get a little spacey. He makes a mental note to suggest getting something to eat soon.
You lift your pencil, using it to vaguely gesture in the direction of the wrapper that's still pinched between his fingers. "Those things will rot your teeth."
He pulls the lollipop away from his mouth. "Oh, not for years."
"And by then they'll have invented something better than dentures." The comment is mumbled, your attention already shifting back to your notes.
Felix frowns. He knows that you're the kind of person that takes an invitation to study at the library with someone literally, and he's fine with that. You wouldn't be you if you didn't get caught up in homework every once in awhile, but you still need to come up for air.
He brings the lollipop back to his lips. "Exactly."
You glance again, the corner of your mouth angling itself upwards. It's a look Felix has learned to interpret as a smile you wish you could will away. The lack of intention in the look has him beaming.
There's never any double meaning in your actions. You're never trying to convince him of anything, you're just you. So genuine and warm Felix has to work at not melting in your presence.
"I like your smile." Your voice feels far off in a way that adds an absentminded quality to your voice. Felix can feel an uneasy warmth burning its way up his neck. You don't seem to notice, instead you focus on propping your head up one elbow. "I'd miss it if you got dentures."
Felix folds the candy wrapper between his two thumb and pointer finger. "Good thing you don't have to worry about that." He shifts in his seat, relaxing his back against hard wood. "You'd love me just the same though, right?"
You press your lips together, brow furrowing as you pretend to think about it. Felix rolls his eyes at the extended silence. He extends his leg, tapping his foot against yours beneath the table. You relax your arm, straightening your shoulders as you glare at him.
You hold your ground, pushing the side of your shoe against his. "Fine, I admit it, I'd love you the same."
"Admit it?"
"Well, I think it should go without saying that our bond is deeper than that."
He taps his foot against yours again. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," you agree, adjusting your hold on your pencil. For a second, he thinks he might be losing you to homework again, but then you say, "Even if you're rotting your teeth."
Felix counters your smug smile with an unimpressed look. "It's cherry flavored."
Your eyes fall back to your notebook. "Then I take back everything I just said."
Without thinking about it, he pulls the lollipop away from his lips. "Wanna try?"
You look up at him, eyebrows pinching together skeptically. "This is how people get colds."
He can't remember you ever worrying about anything like that before. You two have shared drinks, straws, food. This isn't that weird, is it? "We're around each other all the time." You blink, not grasping the connection. "We have to have the same germs at this point."
Your lips briefly part before pressing together. Your gaze shifts from Felix's face to the hand holding out the candy. "...Good point."
He leans forward, extending his arm further. You take the lollipop, popping it into your mouth. "You're why people think we're weird."
Felix scoffs, an attempt at a soft dismissal. He knows what you're referencing. There are comments every now and then, mostly lighthearted, usually mumbled by a girl attempting to make any hint of jealousy seem like anything else.
You two are just...so close. A favorite of theirs, always with a silent are you sure it's not too close tacked onto the end of their sentence. Some of them like to pretend that they're the opposite of bothered by the permanence of your place in his life. It's sweet that your best friend's a girl, most guys would never; or, I love that you guys are good friends, most guys are only friends with girls they want to sleep with. That one tends to make him feel a pinprick of guilt.
"Who thinks we're weird?" The question's lighthearted enough, but he means it. He doesn't like the thought of people making too many of those kind of jokes around you. You're prone to overthinking, and you don't need to start dissecting your friendship with him beneath that lens.
You shrug your shoulders once. "We gross out Farleigh."
The response is easing. Farleigh's opinions aren't much of a threat. You laugh them off or dismiss them with an eyeroll, even when he's not joking. "What isn't he grossed out by?"
"Nothing that falls within the spectrum of human emotion."
He taps his fingers against the table's surface. "And you're all emotion."
You frown, seeming to briefly forget the lollipop in your mouth and its ability to soften even the most withering stares. You must sense his amusement, because your fingers find the lollipop's stick, pulling it away from your face. "All emotion?"
Felix presses his lips together in an attempt to tamp down a smile. You don't fall apart at the slightest inconvenience, but it's not like you're exactly heart of stone. "Compared to Farleigh."
"Sure."
He extends a hand, stealing the lollipop from your fingers. You don't protest, but you do let your lips part in a mock gasp. "Stop. Y'know how I meant it." Felix sets the lollipop back into his mouth, more out of the desire to have something to divide his focus than anything else. "You're just trying to start an argument."
You sit up a little straighter, fingers curling around your pencil. "Am not."
"I think you're starting to feel a little moody." You throw him a dirty look, lips already parting, ready to protest. "Think we need a break."
"What has this been?"
His hand reaches forward, fingers brushing against the back of your palm. "C'mon, let's take a walk, get something to eat."
Your eyebrows pull together in contemplation. You tap your pencil against the side of your notebook. Felix can feel your resolve melting. "Okay..." You agree slowly, shutting the notebook and books in front of you. "We have been here awhile."
"Awhile," he repeats with an affirmative nod.
Before you can finish stacking your school supplies, Felix is standing. He pulls his backpack onto one shoulder before walking around the table. Felix picks up your books before you're fully standing.
"You don't have to carry my stuff."
Felix shakes his head. "It's not heavy, and we'll drop it off in my room before going."
You're a few steps behind him. Felix's gait is naturally longer than yours, and he had an unfair head start. "Then you should let me carry it."
Felix adjusts his hold on your things. "Focus on catching up first."
Even though you're now fully behind him, he can feel your irritated shock. "Lex."
With his back to you, he grins openly. "Way of the world, Lovie."
----
taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny
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.
----
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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
MA'M I LOVE YOUR BEST FRIEND FELIX WRITINGS BUT MY JEALOUS AND SOFTY SHORT ASS CAN'T HANDLE IT 😭 IM HURTING MYSELF BUT IT HURTS SO GOOD, LIKE IF I WAS BEST FRIEND Y/N ID BE BAWLING MY EYES OUT AFTER SEEING HIM WITH ANOTHER GIRL LIKE- WHY IS ALL OF THIS SO CARDIGAN BY TS CODED-
a/n i love taylor and taylor related angst and i get the jealousy thing,, but i think the thing with bestfriend!felix is that he's so obvious about his priorities that by the time reader can register jealousy,, felix is already there
so here's a drabble
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Going out tonight wasn't your idea. A week of long lectures and even longer homework had drained you. But Felix wanted to...and you...You wanted to be around Felix.
Maybe Farleigh's comments about you following Felix around like a puppy aren't as exaggerated as they feel when you're sober. Ugh. The thought of Farleigh being right gives that pinch of irritation something to latch onto.
"They have those drinks you like." The voice is clear despite the base of the music that you can still hear from right outside the club. You turn your head away from the group of stragglers hanging around the outdoor bar. "Had. I got the last one."
You grin at Felix, any lingering angst not exactly evaporating into the cool night air, but the shift is enough to make the smile feel unforced. "Lucky."
He's finally within arm's reach, a fact that he takes advantage of immediately. Felix's palm settles against your shoulder, his thumb dragging across your skin. "Extremely." There's a fondness there that chips away at what's left of your irritation. "Here." You take the glass from him. "Sam almost tackled another bar tender to get the last of the simple syrup."
Ironically, the sip that's halfway down your throat seems to lose any hints of sweetness as soon as the words come out of Felix's mouth. You've met Sam, and while you don't dislike her, you're not sure the neutrality is mutual.
It's a fact you don't dwell. Sam's a bottle blonde bar tender who looks like she was born to walk around in low cut tank tops and cut off shorts. Not that her being pretty matters, but there's an edge to her beauty that implies an effortless coolness that doesn't usually meld with who you are. It's no one's fault. You think those types of girls are charming and fun in a way that's somehow even bolder than the friends that you consider wild. It's just never been a mutual admiration.
And Sam's been hanging around Felix a lot lately, showing up at parties, staying later than anyone else besides you. They've gone home together a few times. Felix hasn't said too much about that, but that doesn't indicate anything. You guys don't talk about that kind of stuff. Even best friends as close as you two have boundaries.
Not that it matters if Felix is with someone like Sam. She seems fun and pretty and bold and--the total opposite of you.
That hits you like a thumb jabbing into a bruise. Since when is Felix's constantly rotating door of flings a sore point? When he pawns you off on Farleigh--even when he's not in the mood for you--so he can have a moment in the employee bathroom.
"Y'okay?"
You nod, "Yeah." Felix's eyebrows pinch together, a barely there implication of concern that's almost ignorable beneath the poor lighting. "Everything's just kind of hitting me a little."
He nods, "Do you need to sit?" Felix's hold on your shoulder tightens. "Is that why you came outside?"
"Uh--no." The response feels flat. "I mean--yeah, I wanted some air, but I don't feel sick or anything."
He watches you openly for what feels like its own eternity. You're not sure what he's looking for, but you must not pass the inspection because he frowns. "Okay." As if to validate Felix's attempt at letting your mood go, you bring your glass back to your lips. "You know--if you're not feeling--if you want to go, you can tell me."
"I know." You do know that. Felix has always been good about listening, about wanting to make sure you're comfortable.
You take another sip of your drink. Of course Sam's good at mixing drinks. You can picture her tripping over herself, rushing to grab the nearly empty bottle of syrup and risking making an enemy of a coworker to avoid having to tell Felix no.
Felix takes a step forward, his hand sliding across your back so that his arm can settle around your shoulders. It's instinct to lean into the contact. He's warm in a way that rivals the buzz in your system. "When we do go, we're going to have to go out the back way."
You let your head rest against his side. "Why?"
"Don't think Sam's going to be going out of her way to get me drinks again."
You crane your neck to look up at him, "What? Why?"
His eyes meet yours, and then he's dropping his gaze to the floor. "You have become such a gossip."
A sound that's a combination between a scoff and a laugh tumbles past your lips. "Have not."
"You and Farleigh," Felix continues, "You two always need to ask, always need to have an opinion."
"Not true," you defend weakly, "If I was a gossip I'd talk about how slutty--"
You cut yourself off, regretting your phrasing as soon as the word is out. Felix pulls back slightly, mouth falling open in exaggerated offense. "You called me a slut?"
"No," you defend yourself through a laugh, "I was saying that you have been slutty." Felix raises his eyebrows at you. "It's different." Felix's eyes narrow in an attempt to offset the smile tugging at his lips. "It is."
"Yeah?" He leans forward with no warning, his lips pressing against your cheek. That kiss is followed by another. Again and again, each more affectionate and touchy than the last.
His lips brush against your jaw. "Fe-lix." It wants to be a warning, but the nervous giggle that breaks his name into two makes coming off as threatening impossible.
"What?" He hums, his lips finding your neck. "If I'm that slutty, we should have a go at it."
You laugh, ignoring the heat burning its way up your neck because it's just Felix. "There's a bathroom inside."
Felix stills before pulling away enough to look you in the eye. There's the faintest flush tinging his skin. You laugh again, this time the sound fuller. It's nice to see flashes of the softer side of Felix while out in the real world. Felix laughs with you.
You tilt your head, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "For you, I'd spring for a hotel room."
"Now I feel special."
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taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny