Bestfriend!felix X Reader - Tumblr Posts

OKAY idk if you keep taking thoughts but this IS the dynamic I had thought for Felix since DAY ONE, so of course I need more best friend!felix and maybe this one is a typical one but...

The jealousy??? like this man is very facial and expressive and protective, especially towards the reader.... so I thought about him watching any of his friends flirting with them? And maybe also being way too touchy? You can decide if reader is comfortable in all that or not (I think she wouldn't), but having him like trying not to be a dick but also like needing to, like they're my best friend shush so yeah, I'd love it if you could write something like that! thankss

a/n omg that one scene in saltburn where felix is like 'you're my friend,, you're supposed to be here with me' yeah i knew immediately

----

"Sorry, darling." Despite the soft, almost far off cadence of Farleigh's voice, his words manage to cut through the atmosphere of the party. He leans forward, handing off his half finished joint to the girl standing next to you. "This stuff's heavy, and I don't need Felix on me tonight."

You frown. His denial doesn't get to you as much as the way he's framing it. Like you're a child that needs to be looked after. Like you're Felix's property.

If you weren't already a few drinks in, you'd dismiss Farleigh's words with an eye roll. The buzz burning in your veins latches onto that pinch of irritation. The full sounding giggle that comes from the nameless girl by your side only amplifies the feeling. "I don't do everything Felix says."

"No," he agrees, "You do just enough to be a good, little pet." You cross your arms in front of your chest, tilting your head to better glare at him.

The feel of something touching your shoulder cracks the tension. Your head turns. Felix. Despite your annoyance, Felix's sudden appearance at your side has you easing. He leans forward, pressing a kiss against your cheek near the corner of your mouth. "I was looking for you."

You smile, placing your hand over the one Felix still has on your shoulder. "You seemed busy, decided to take a lap."

He brushes his thumb against your shoulder. "Never too busy for you, darling." Felix has a way of making things that should feel just polite sound genuine. "How're you doing?"

"Farleigh's being mean."

"Didn't let her smoke." Farleigh explains flatly, taking the joint back from the girl. "After the way you reacted last time, it wasn't worth it."

Felix squeezes your arm. "That true?" You're not given a chance to respond. "You know how you get. Especially after drinking." You blink at him, eyes wide and lips pressed together. "Don't give me that look." It's too gentle to be a scolding. "We can smoke when you're sober, if you want."

You're not one to crave getting high too often. There's a sluggishness to it that you have to be in a certain mood for. But something about smoking with Felix, in his room with the window open and the two of you lounging like the only things that matter are what's within arm's reach, is unbelievably soothing.

Even in your current state, you're fully aware of the fact that you're getting the better end of the deal. But with Farleigh's smug comment and that random girl that laughed still paying attention, you don't feel comfortable agreeing in front of everyone.

"You're looking for an excuse to argue." Ugh. The way he reads you is almost eerie. You press your lips together to keep from giggling, watching him carefully. You shake your head, a flimsy attempt at denial. "Yes." Felix leans closer, grinning. He drapes an arm around your back, pulling you against his chest. " I can see it in your eyes."

"My eyes are innocent."

His freehand moves to hold your chin, angling your head to better look you in the eye. He's focused, exuding more concentration than the moment warrants. That's the thing about Felix, crowded room or empty dorm, it doesn't matter. He has a talent for making anyone feel like the only person in the world.

"Hm," he hums, "You pass." Despite coming to a conclusion, he makes no effort to move away from you. "Want to get another drink?"

You nod, "Yeah."

"C'mon, then." He drops one arm, waving a halfhearted goodbye to Farleigh before guiding you forward.

Felix keeps an arm around your shoulders as you maneuver through the chaos of the party. It's instinct to accept his lead, a part of you more glad for it than usual. You're starting to feel fuzzy, and with Felix guiding you, it's safer to accept the sensation.

"Oh my god!" A squeal and then your name.

You turn your head, eyes landing on a familiar face from your lit class. "Daphne!" She's a newer friend that you mainly know from exchanging lecture notes and working on essays together. A part of you is surprised to see her here, but you guess you shouldn't be. Now that you're thinking about it, you feel like you've seen her around Felix's friends before. "Hey."

Daphne approaches you with a wide grin. "I didn't know you were here." She then glances to Felix, and then Felix's arm, and then back to Felix. "Hi, Felix."

If he notices Daphne's curious scrutiny, he gives no indication of it. "Hi, Daphne," he greets, confirming that they do run in the same circles.

She smiles politely before turning her attention back to you, "It's been a minute since I've seen you." Daphne tosses a glossy strand of hair over her shoulder. "We need to catch up, I found out the best thing about the girl that sits in the front row that always tells everyone her grades."

"Bragger girl? She's the worst."

"Oh, you have no idea."

Felix squeezes your arm, turning your attention back towards him. "I'll get you your drink, you catch up with your friend." You beam at him as his arm gently moves off your shoulder.

As soon as he's disappeared into the crowd, Daphne gasps, "Oh my god, whatever's going on there is better than my bragger girl story."

You blink. "What?" Confusion and Felix's absence make you feel slightly off balance. It takes you a moment to catch up. "Oh, Felix? We're friend." Daphne presses her lips together, the look she's giving you not entirely convinced. "C'mon, tell me about bragger girl."

"Okay." Daphne gestures to an empty coach that's been pushed against a wall. "Let's sit?"

The two of you make it to the edge of the room. Daphne's not shy about taking up space, letting her long legs extend into the start of where people might walk. She trusts the world to move for her. It hits you then that your friendship with Daphne, like your relationships with a lot of people you've been spending time with recently, doesn't make make sense on paper.

You sit, grateful for the chance to lean against something sturdy.

"Alright," Daphne starts, angling her body towards you, "Bragger girl--never's gotten an imperfect score girl--" She cuts herself off with a soft, tipsy giggle. "Is hooking up with the TA."

Oh, you're fully hooked. "What?" Daphne nods, expression satisfied. "No way." There's no way to prove the connection between that girl always managing to beat your scores by a few points and any of her personal relationships, but come on. "Wait--with--with which one--the tall one or--or the one with the--" You're too out of it to recall a good descriptor, "Hair."

Daphne laughs again, "Hair?" You shrug at her. "Doesn't matter how little sense that makes, because that's the--the best part of the story." You nod, urging her. "She's hooking up with both of them."

You gasp. Oh my god, you cannot wait for Felix to get back so you can reiterate every detail of this. "Really?" Daphne giggles, nodding her head. "How do you know?"

"Okay," she crosses her legs, "So, I was at this ba--"

"Hey, Daphne," the voice is low and clumsy, over extending the second half of Daphne's name. Daphne looks up in time to see a guy sit on the couch's cushioned arm. "Who's your friend?"

Daphne throws you an apologetic look before turning back to the stranger. "Hi, John." She then introduces the two of you politely, presenting you as a friend from her intro to western lit class and John as someone from her econ class.

John doesn't even attempt to hide the fact that he's looking you over. You're not sure if it's the slightly glazed over quality to his eyes or his lack of shame gets to you. All you know is that some instinct tells you to be wary.

He tries your name on his lips, slurring slightly. "Why've I never seen you around?"

"Oh, I don't know," you try, tone much more sober than it was a moment ago, "I'm around, I guess. Here and there."

It's not your best small talk, but the only part of you that seems to be clinging to sobriety doesn't feel right. He's friends with Daphne, you tell yourself, you have no reason to believe he has bad intentions just because seems like he's had too much of whatever he's been having tonight.

John laughs, like your words were some obscure joke that he wants you to know he decoded. "So what do you do when you're not getting out?" He angles himself towards you, disregarding Daphne entirely. "I'm having a hard time picturing you in a library."

It's almost ironic enough to get you to laugh. John sees you here, he sees how you're dressed, and who you're with and just assumes that this is your regular state. And while there's nothing wrong with being the party girl type (some of your favorite people are that kind of person), it's just not who you are every night of the week.

"Actually, John," Daphne interjects, "She's really smart, like basically certified genius smart." You throw her a not so subtle look that says you feel like she's exaggerating. "What? I said basically." You don't look like you agree, "C'mon, even Dr. Alvero's said it, and he can't stand anyone."

"Really?" John moves to stand. "Dr. Alvero. His class is bloody murder." He takes a step towards you. "Maybe you could help me study sometime." You're too aware of the length of your dress, of your legs. "I'd pay you for your time."

There's something about the way he tacks on the reference to finances, an implication that burrows beneath your skin. That's the worst part of Oxford's elite, they assume that if you don't run in the same circles...that if you don't come from generational money, you have nothing. That you're in a position to bend to their every whim for what they consider petty cash.

"John," Daphne tries, voice hard.

"What?" John takes another step forward. "I said I'd pay her."

Indignance and nerves bond uncomfortably in the pit of your stomach. As much as you want to tell him off, the way he's looking at you leaves you frozen, and it's not like the two of you are in a private area. You don't want to be labeled as a hysterical drunk.

"Sweetheart." Felix is within reach.

You turn your head instinctually. He's less than a foot from the couch, holding a solo cup. Despite directly addressing you, Felix's attention is fully focused on John, who seems to have finally remembered the concept of personal space.

Felix walks past him without a second glance before sitting next to you. It's a squeeze, Felix's knee pressing into yours. "They ran out of cups, so I thought we could share." Felix extends his arm slightly, gesturing to his drink. "Have some."

You lift a hand to reach for the cup, but Felix shifts before you can actually attempt to take it. Confusion has you dropping your hand back to your lap. You don't get where he's going with this until he gently tilts the cup in a silent question. You nod.

Felix brings the drink to your lips, gently tilting the cup until its contents are down your throat. The alcohol burns slightly, but not overbearingly so, and the flavor is familiar. Your favorite drink.

He pulls the cup away, a drop of liquid sliding down the corner of your mouth. Felix's thumb wipes it away before it can reach your chin. He then brings his still damp thumb towards his mouth to clean it.

Heat roots itself in your chest and crawls up your neck. All of your discomfort, all of your worry from before feels far and abstract until Felix asks, "So, who's your friend?"

"Oh, uh--this is Daphne's friend, John."

Daphne nods, leaning forward to join your conversation, "Yeah, I know him from my econ class."

"Yeah, good to finally meet you, man. " Felix finally looks back at John. "I think my step-mother's friends with your mum."

Felix places an arm against the back of the couch, giving you space to relax against his side. A more sober you would have thought twice about giving in so quickly, but you're starting to feel light again. "Uh--Cindy Marin."

"Right!" John exhales, relieved, "Right."

Felix nods once before turning his attention back to you. "You ready to get out of here?" There's an assuredness in the way he asks the question that makes it seem like there's nothing of value left at a party that hasn't at all since he sat down. You nod. Felix leans towards you so that he can better look over your shoulder. "See you around, Daphne."

"Yeah, see you."

Felix gets up, immediately stealing the warmth and comfort he'd been providing while next to you. Something that you only very minorly resent him for. He offers you his hand as you stand, and that makes up for most of it.

You turn your head to say goodbye to Daphne. Now that Felix isn't looking, she grins at you before mouthing: that was hot.

You roll your eyes, hoping your feigned irritation is enough to cover any signs of being flustered. Especially when Felix pulls an arm around your shoulders.

"Bye, John," he mumbles, "Congratulate your step-mum for me, yeah?"

Felix guides you out of the party. Once the two of you are exposed to the cool, night air, Felix lets go of you. There's a stiffness to his release that gets to you.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a box of cigarettes.

"Can I?" Your voice is smaller than you thought it'd be.

Felix pauses, thinking through your request before handing you the box. You smile as Felix leans towards you. You don't smoke--with the exception of an occasional drag from one of Felix's cigarettes--but you like lighting them for him.

You pull one from the box and place it between his parted lips. He hands you his lighter next. You spark it to life, bringing the flame to the cigarette's end. Felix takes a deep breath, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling. He doesn't attempt to take your hand or place an arm around you again.

"Are you--" You're not even sure how to word it, "...Okay?"

He takes the cigarette between two fingers as he breathes out. "Fine." Felix inhales another drag. "Just didn't love the way that guy talked to you."

"If it helps, neither did I."

Felix glances over at you, eyebrows pulling together. "Then it's a good thing your best friend was there."

You roll your eyes fondly, fighting a grin, "You're always a good thing."

He looks down, his fingers brush against yours. You intertwine them, pulling his palm against yours. "Someone loves me."

You attempt to glare at him, but the look feels too sickeningly fond to come off as menacing. "Don't start."

His smile broadens. He squeezes your hand, thumb brushing against your knuckles. "Want to stay over tonight?"

"Yeah." You grin, body subconsciously leaning against his a little more. "Are you tired?"

Felix eyes you with exaggerated skepticism, "Why?"

"Wanted to know if you were in the mood to read to me tonight."

He smiles, angling his head to press a kiss against the top of your head. "Anything you want, lovie."

----

felix: oh my god,, i can't believe people treat you like that!! maybe you should borrow my last name for a little, just so that they leave you alone

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

I feel like the readers first times are always involving felix and that made her look at his displays of affection in a more normal way

Like her first kiss, she says that was with a boyfriend but it was actually felix, but its just normal for them

wow i didn't even realize how true this was until i read it

reader lowkey gives has likely never so much as held hands with a guy before felix,, but she'd sooner pass away than admit it

farleigh has definitely asked at some last minute 'after party' which is just all of felix's friends sitting in his room after a party while drunk/high and reader would be fighting for their life fr (i feel like farleigh and bestfriend!reader would eventually develop a bit of a frenemy relationship)

oliver was definitely listening a little extra hard lmaoo

also my next comment is a little off topic and discusses smut (mentions virginity,, but isn't smutty or descriptive) but i'm putting it below a cut just in case anyone isn't comfortable with that

felix is generally possessive/jealous when it comes to reader, but he's for sure a lot more jealous when it comes to intimate/small things than casual hooking up bc it can be that casual/meaningless to him

but!! if reader is a virgin he is doing all he can to keep reader from losing it to anyone else,, not bc it's sexual (mostly), but bc losing your virginity implies too much intimacy for felix to let that happen 😭

also felix knows reader and knows she isn't really a casual hook up person (part of the reason he hasn't asked her out is bc he knows that'd instantly be such a serious relationship he can't afford to mess up when he's young and kind of dumb when it comes to romantic relationships) so he's doing all he can to keep that from happening,, sorry, he's the closest thing reader is getting to a boyfriend :)

also, this might be a little too much (feel free to disagree with this point), 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, so he knows anyone reader's with/hooks up with won't care about reader the way he does, they can't,, so he might as well be reader's first time

pleaseee write smth about that fight between Felix and reader

a/n i've been thinking about this scene for days so when i saw this ask i got so hyped

warnings: reader being AFAB/female is plot relevant (reader's father has always wanted a son), implied emotional/financial parental abuse (not described in too much detail), potentially inaccurate portrayal of early-ish 2000's phones bc i was a toddler during their oxford era, hurt/comfort

we're getting into reader's background!!

itallic texts = from felix, bold texts = from reader

There's a scratch embedded into the dark mahogany. It's small, no wider than something you could make with your finger nail.

"How's your food?"

Your attention shifts towards the ceramic plate that's almost covering the dining table's only blemish. "It's good," you mumble with a slight nod, fork instinctually jabbing at a piece of food without you even looking at it. "Yours?"

"Great," he hums casually, cutting into his steak. "Part of the reason I picked this hotel is because of the restaurant. The visiting chef's a guy that I met in New York when he was looking into financing an international expansion of his franchise."

You bring your utensil to your lips. "That's cool, daddy."

The comment only strengthens the question that's been silently ebbing at your mind since your father first suggested lunch. Why did he order room service instead of taking you to the hotel's restaurant? Your dad has always loved the ambiance, the leisure of sitting in a nice restaurant.

"Is that why you're in town?" You reach for your glass, taking a sip of your drink before continuing. "To finalize something with the chef?"

He sets down his knife. "That and a few other business arrangements that needed to be checked on." He pauses, shoulders relaxing. "And to see you, too, Ace. It feels like it's been awhile since we talked."

Your lips quirk into what's almost a smile. When your father called to let you know that he'd be staying near Oxford for work and that he wanted you to visit, you had been apprehensive at first. Your mother was cautiously supportive of the idea.

Things with your father have been relatively stable recently. He liked the way no university seemed off limits to you with your grades and extracurriculars. He loved the idea of a daughter studying abroad at Oxford (which, is part of the reason you seriously considered Princeton for some time). And he's been drinking less. Part of that whole reborn, second marriage to a late-20-something methodist thing.

"Yeah, dad," you agree, as sincerely as you can manage, "It's been awhile."

"You know I'm friends with one of your deans." He doesn't give you a chance to reply. "We had coffee together, and he told me you're on track to finish in the top 10%." Rumors about the top percentages had been circling around Oxford for the past month. Still, it's relieving to know. "Congratulations, Ace."

This time, your smile meets your eyes. "Thanks."

He smiles, a flash of something practiced and charming. "When I get home, the first thing I'm doing is picking out a gift to send to you."

"If you need time, you can always wait and give it to me over the summer."

The infamous summer. Your mother is going to be spending most of the summer volunteering for an organization that brings counseling to children that have survived traumatic experiences but can't affording therapy. Your father suggested that you stay with him for a little while so that you wouldn't have to spend an entire two months in an empty house.

He stretches an arm like he wants to pick up his fork, but decides against it. "I--I want to tell you something." His tone is softer now, almost hesitant. "But you have to promise not to cry."

You try to swallow around the lump in your throat, body familiar with the command. "Okay?"

"I don't know if this summer's going to work out the way we talked about." He taps his fingers against the surface of the table. Your eyes lock on the scratch marring the wood. "Things have gotten complicated."

"Complicated?"

Your father sighs. "I'm sure you've noticed Christine's not here." You can't bring yourself to react at the mention of your step-mother's name. "She isn't in--she isn't in the best condition to travel." The tapping continues. "Christine's pregnant. She's due in early June, and she isn't having an easy time. I think it'd be best to not do anything that could potentially be stressful."

Oh.

"It's a boy."

Oh. A boy. With his perfect wife, in his perfect penthouse on the Upper East Side. Of course. Of fucking course.

You can't breathe right or thing of the way you're supposed to react. All you can do is stare at the scratch. At the only thing that indicates that anything bad has ever happened to the table.

"You promised you wouldn't cry." The words feel far. "You look too much like your mother when you cry."

That seems to force you back to earth. Any and all reminders of your mother must be eradicated in his presence. "I know. I'm not going to cry." You blink once, hand moving to wipe away tears you refuse to let spill. "Congratulations."

He's quiet for a moment, pressing his lips together, before finally settling on a perfunctory, "Thank you." After a beat of silence, he continues, "Were you planning on staying tonight? I was thinking of flying back early, but I can--"

"Oh, no," you shake your head once, "I actually have a lot of homework, so it's probably better for me to get back."

Your father nods, "Always the academic, Ace." He pushes his seat back. "If you're done eating, I can walk you to the lobby and have my driver take you back."

"Yeah," you push back your own seat and stand, "Sounds good."

The two of you reach the front doors of the suite. "Hey," your father starts, "Why don't you travel this summer? That's all I did during college breaks. I'll pay so you can do it up right. You should go somewhere with a friend. Paris, maybe. You two always had fun as kids."

You nod once, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, daddy, I'll ask Paris about what she's doing this summer."

"Good." He pauses at the door, reaching into the pocket of his slacks. He pulls out his wallet and counts out a few bills. "Here. A pre-gift." You hesitate. "C'mon, top 10%."

Your mother's voice rings in your ears. He won't change, you might as well take the money. You stretch out a hand, forcing a smile as you take the cash. "Thanks."

----

Stupid. You're so fucking stupid.

You really thought you'd be there all weekend. You really thought Christine would let you into her home for longer than a day or two.

And the pregnancy thing? That--that's going to get back to your mom in one way or another if you don't tell her. And hearing that, hearing that your dad's finally getting his son is going to kill her.

It's all you've been thinking about since you got back yesterday afternoon. After mumbling a halfhearted explanation to your roommate, you changed into some pajama shorts and a giant T-shirt that you only realized was Felix's after the fact and crawled into bed. You've moved as little as possible since.

Something near the foot of your bed buzzes, snapping you back to the present. You flip the phone open, immediately noticing three text notifications. From Felix.

hope ur weekend's going better than mine

lovie

i feel abandoned

Despite your angst, you smile to yourself before sending a response: it's been one day.

After a minute, there's another text on your screen: so it's a crime to miss u. You roll your eyes, fondness pooling in your stomach. how are u doing.

The second question, though sincere, forces you to spiral. You want to be honest. You don't lie to Felix and he doesn't lie to you.

But, everything comes with exceptions, and making sure no one finds out how tense things actually are with your dad is yours. Before you two got close, it felt too private, and once you finally did, a few comments from Felix's friends made you feel like the worst thing you could do for your friendship was let him see any kind of darkness.

It's not that he'd judge you, he'd just want to help you so badly that it'd take over everything else. Farleigh's made it clear that Felix loves a charity case. And you don't want to be that. You won't let your dad take that from you, either.

You want to say that you're fine, maybe text a comment about things being a little awkward because it's no secret that your mom took care of you after the divorce. But lying about being on campus feels like something that could easily morph into something else.

Felix, who actually has enough of a social life to pull sleazy moves like that never has. i'm sick. came home early.

ur back!

why didn't u tell me

i'm sick, can't hang out

are u ok

do u need anything

Guilt prods at you. You've been texting him on and off since yesterday and never mentioned that you came back early. Felix is always so good to you. But, you're in no place to see him. no just need rest

You shut your phone. You're not sure that saying you're sick is enough to keep Felix away all weekend, but it could be enough to keep him away tonight. It's Saturday night. He'll have plans.

And tomorrow, you'll feel better. More stable.

"I have some time before I'm supposed to go to Jake's. I stole some bread from the dining hall." Nadia's offer is gentle. "Do you want to go feed the ducks?"

You wipe at your face. "That's a really nice offer, Nadia, but I'm feeling a little sick. Maybe when you get back?"

She frowns. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," you mumble, "I just need some sleep."

"You've been sleeping on and off since yesterday afternoon." Nadia hesitates, eyes darting towards the bathroom. She does need to start getting ready for her date. "Maybe you can call Felix later? It's Saturday night, you know there's some terribly exclusive, not meant for any of us ordinaries party he's dying to take you to."

The attempt at humor is enough to get you to roll onto your side. "Since when do you like Felix?"

To be fair, Nadia's never disliked Felix. Before you became friends with him, she had a bit of a crush on him in that way that all freshmen girls at Oxford do. After you started hanging out with him all the time, that crush turned into an awareness that fueled her worry. She's always implied her concern that he'd eventually hurt you.

"I've never not liked him," she mumbles, "I was just scared he'd break your heart, but, the last couple of times he's come over...something about the way he looks at you."

"So you finally accepted we're just friends?"

She walks towards the bathroom, "Didn't say that."

You roll your eyes, letting yourself rest on your back. You shut your eyes, trying to force out any thoughts of the outside world as you drift off.

The familiar creek of the hinges of your room's door pulls you back to reality slowly.

"Took you long enough." Nadia's voice. "All she does is sleep and mope. She didn't even want to go feed the ducks today."

"She loves feeding the ducks." Another familiar, much more moving voice. You manage to move, wiping at your eyes as you sit up.

"I know!"

You finally sit up, blinking your eyes as your vision adjusts. Felix. He's standing in near the foot of your bed. "Felix--I-I told you I'm fine. Just a little sick."

"Nadia called and told me the opposite."

You turn your head to glare at you roommate, who doesn't even have the decency to look ashamed. "You stole my phone and called him?"

"I had to," she defends. "All you do is sleep and cry, and you've been like this since you came back yesterday."

Felix's expression drops as soon as the final word comes out. Your eyes widen, head shaking as subtly as possible as if a too late warning will erase the sentence from existence.

"Wait," his voice is softer than you've ever heard it, "You've been back since yesterday and you didn't tell me?"

You swallow, unable to look away from Felix.

"I--I have to go." Nadia's announcement breaks through the stiff silence. "I'll be back sometime tomorrow, so um..." She turns away, swinging an overnight bag over her shoulder before disappearing out the door. You can't blame her for running out as soon as possible.

"Felix," your voice is low, gravely, "Darling."

"Don't." His eyebrows pinch together, sadness tinging his expression. It doesn't fit him. "Why--why wouldn't you tell me you were here?"

You sit up a little straighter, wiping at your eyes with the back of your palm. "I told you I'm sick. I'm not up for anything right now."

Felix is still watching you with that kicked puppy look. "That doesn't--" He cuts himself off with a sigh. "You know I don't care if you don't want to do anything. We can--we can just sit or-or talk, or read or--do nothing." Felix presses his lips together, "I thought you knew that."

You know he's right, and that makes it harder to look at him. Felix would have been a sweetheart about it. He would have let you mope, cry even, and he would've spent the entire time holding you. It should have been easy to tell Felix, instinctual...and yet...

Your eyes briefly shut. "I do." The admission's painful to get out. Some of your hesitation was over the way Felix reacts to tragedy, but the rest is something more personal. Telling Felix would have solidified it. Would have made that label of 'abandoned child' that you've always been so wary about permanent. "It's more than that."

"Then what is it?"

Sighing, you push yourself to the edge of your bed. "My head hurts, I need a Tylenol."

Your words and movements are drowsy as you push yourself to stand. Felix takes a partial step forward before forcing himself to freeze into place. It's hard not to help you.

"Then what is it?"

You push open the bathroom door. "I don't--I don't know." It's a weak attempt at dismissing the conversation before things go to a place that you can't handle right now. "I couldn't get the words out." Still can't.

You find the pill bottle you were looking for on the bathroom counter and start working at twisting off the childproof cap. "We tell each other everything eventually." His voice is dry, almost hesitant. "At least, I do. We trust each other."

Your eyes shut as you sigh, fingers briefly releasing the top of the bottle. "Maybe that's not trust. Maybe that's your life being so perfect there's nothing you need to keep secret."

The words come out in a rush, angry and sharp. Regret floods through you instantly. "I'm sorry."

"No." The syllable is hard. "No. You're not. Don't do that. Don't--don't start saying what you think I need to hear--or keeping in what you think I don't." There's a concerned anger there, an unfitting combination that you don't have the energy to decode. "What could be so bad you can't tell me? We know about Ollie's parents and that didn't change anything, did it?"

Actually, things did change a little. Oliver's broken home life seemed to only make Felix want to pull Oliver into his world even more. You hate thinking it, because it's insensitive and a little mean, but of course Oliver was willing to give Felix all the gritty details.

After the initial implications came out, Felix devoured them with the same silver spoon that was placed in his mouth at birth. In a way, Felix's desire to fix and ease pain brought them closer together. And it probably means more to Oliver coming from Felix than anyone else.

But your relationship with Felix is different. You don't want sadness and coddling to be what makes you feel certain in your bond with Felix. You want things to stay the same. You don't want to give your dad anyway to change one of the most important connections in your life.

"You have a big heart, Felix, and I love that about you." Your hand reaches for the Tylenol again. "But I don't want you helping me to become all that I am to you. I don't want to be a charity case." You squeeze your eyes shut, cringing at your wording. "And--and I'm not trying to say that Ollie's just a charity case, it's that--some stuff Farleigh's said and--" Tears are pricking the edge of your vision.

"You're more than that," he scoffs the words out like it's ridiculous he even has to say that, "Of course you're more than that, I thought you knew." He scoffs. "I--I don't just wait around for people."

You scoff, the sound almost a bitter laugh. "Oh--so now it's not about trust, it's about your ego. That I don't just sit around next to my phone, waiting for the Felix Catton to call me."

Felix takes a step forward, "It's not about that!" You raise your eyebrows, uncertainty leaving you frozen. Felix has never yelled at you before. "...It's not about that," he repeats, voice a more acceptable volume. He takes another step forward, his fingers finding your forearm. "You know how I meant it."

There's a tension in the way he's touching your arm. It's nothing harsh, if anything it's almost too soft. Hesitant. He's watching you with an intensity that pins you into place more than his actual hold.

You wouldn't be surprised by his anger, you're not even sure you'd be able to blame him for it, but that's not what you see when you look at him. You can't exactly read the look behind his eyes, but something about it reminds you of Nadia's earlier comment.

It's heavy. Too heavy for you to think about tonight. That's how Felix is. He's intense. All consuming. When all you do is blink at him, he lets go of your arm.

"Felix."

His eyes dart towards the ground, body angling itself away from you.

It's subtle, and not a direct dismissal, but after everything that's already happened, it's enough to serve as a final nail hammered into your chest. "I don't want things to change between us." You sigh, finally getting the pill bottle's lid to pop off. "Because I'm fine."

You force a smile, but there's a tightness to your features that makes it feel like a grimace. "It's not a big deal. So my dad asked me not to come home this summer, because his wife's pregnant and he doesn't want to 'stress her out'. I'm fine." You can feel the tears welling in your eyes. "Y'know it's a b-oy." Your voice cracks on the last word, a laugh or maybe a sob interrupting the single syllable. "So um...good for him, he's finally getting his son."

Felix is watching you cautiously, expression not quite sympathetic, but not relaxed either. "Oh my god, I have to tell my mom. And it--it's going to kill her." You gasp the words like the realization's just hit you, even though it's been on your mind since the beginning. "I don't know why I said that like I'm surprised--because I--" You laugh, the sound shrill and uneasy, "But it's whatever. I'm fine."

You nod once, as if that'll be enough to make you feel fine. Another sound comes out, this one a lot closer to a whimper. "I'm fine. I don't know why I'm being so dramatic. I'm fine. I'm--" You squeeze your arms around your waist, supporting yourself the way Felix usually would.

You're crying openly now, tears blinding you. This is pathetic. You need to get it together.

You're pulled forward with no warning, your body hitting something solid and warm. Felix.

His arms around you, firm and supportive. It's surprising enough to force a full breath of air into your lungs. For a moment, all there is Felix. You inhale again, and again, doing your best to hold the air in your lungs.

Felix's hand smooths circles against your back. He whispers soothing words that you can barely make out. Between that and the even rhythm of his heart, you manage to ground yourself.

"You don't have to be nice to me right now," you mumble into his shirt. "I was really mean to you."

He continues to trace patterns against your spine. "We don't have to talk about that right now."

"I know," you whisper, "I just--I don't want you to feel like you can't be mad at me."

He gently smooths your hair away from your face. "Can I be mad from right here?"

"Yeah." You sniffle once, letting your chin press into his chest so that you can look up at him. "If you want to."

"Then okay," he mumbles, knuckles running up and down the length of your spine, "I'll be mad from right here."

----

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

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

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

----

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."

----

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

could maybe possibly do a blurb of farleigh being protective of bestfriend!reader like maybe someone was talking shit about her and before felix can even defend her farleighs beating him to it? idk if that makes sense but i love love LOVE your fics you’re SO GOOD at writing felix

this is the kind of thing farleigh would do by accident while drunk and then the reality of the situation would hit him so hard he'd decide to be sober for at least a week 😭

sidenote this was sooo fun to write omg

"Okay so it's--" Lacy (or Lizzie, or maybe even Lyla, Farleigh lost the girl's name at some point between between round 3 and 5) giggles as she squints at the tab. "It's--if we want to do an even split..."

She had been so happy to race to the bar when Felix first brought up leaving and continuing the night elsewhere. As if being the one to physically pick up the tab and hand over cash and cards to the clearly irritated bartender would cement her place, would make her a part of the night's inner workings.

The desperation had been so apparent that when Farleigh nudged your arm, you immediately whispered a sharp, "Stop it." You only react that strongly when you're already fighting for your life to keep your halo shiny.

"Hey." You extend the single syllable, voice hinting at a tipsiness that could explain your boldness. You're not exactly shy, but you tend to let the main group do as they please, content to do whatever as long as Felix is by your side. It's nauseating, but reliable.

"Do you mind if..." You trail off, lifting a hand to gesture towards the receipt. Lacy blinks, giving you a look that Farleigh's gotten used to. A subdued, jealous disdain.

Your ignorance would be endearing if this was some made for TV romcom. But it's not, so even though Farleigh knows that you mean your end of night comments that reek of insecurity because the new girls never like you, he'll still poke fun of you for it.

You let go of Felix's arm, walking forward until you're close enough to Lacy to read over her shoulder. You glance at the receipt, and then at the group. In less than a minute, you're announcing, "47 each."

Farleigh has been around you long enough to no longer be surprised. Tipsy division loses its shock value after awhile, and if Farleigh knows you well enough to no longer think twice about it, Felix definitely has no reason to be impressed. That doesn't stop Felix from beaming at you, expression truly lovesick. It's sweet enough to make Farleigh's stomach ache.

"A genius," Felix breathes, extending his arm as far as he can without falling off his stool, "My girl's a genius."

You try to glare, but there's too much softness in the look. "Am not." A response that could technically apply to the 'my girl' part as much as the 'genius' part. There's a hopeful beat in which the girls that aren't used to competing with you for Felix's attention seem to be waiting for a clarification that never comes.

Farleigh's lingering nausea is slightly alleviated by Lacy's pout. She must think that the praise and Felix's undivided attention should be hers. That they would be, if it wasn't for your interference. The thought feels laughable. Felix would have just as easily paid off the entire tab to avoid a frustrating debate. He isn't complimenting the solution, he's complementing you.

Felix pulls your hand towards you, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. "Next round's to you."

What's left of Lacy's mask of indifference crumbles. She glares briefly before remembering her place.

"Next round's somewhere else." You manage the correction through a soft giggle. "You wanted to go, remember?"

Felix blinks twice before nodding. Farleigh has a feeling that Felix's quick concession is more a result of his cousin's faith in you than his own memory. "Yeah, we're going..."

"To Austen's place, I think." Felix tugs on your arm, his attention more focused on squeezing your hand between both of his than actually figuring out what he's moving the group for. "It's closer to campus, he promised you weed."

Felix nods again, this time the motion a little more assured. He pulls on your arm gently. You laugh. "Lex."

"What?" The question is a halfhearted attempt at feigning innocence. Felix's free hand finds your other forearm. "Come here."

"Wait." Despite your protests, you do nothing to escape his grasp. "I have to--I have to go to the bathroom before we leave."

Felix frowns. Farleigh resists the urge to roll his eyes. "Y'want me to go with you? Show you where it is?"

"I'm okay," you mumble, voice sweet and slow as honey, "Stay here, figure out the cash thing. I'll be right back." Carefully, you untangle yourself from Felix's hold. "You have my purse, right?"

Felix lifts the small bag off his lap, a genuine hint of pride coloring his expression. The two of you get more unbearable by the day. "You need it?"

"No, but you can take out my wallet so no one has to wait for me to get back."

Okay, Farleigh actually has to roll his eyes at that. It's a routine that you insist on, trying to pay even though it's clear that Felix would rather you not even attempt to touch a wallet. That's what makes the least sense about you, Felix lets you get away with not giving him what he wants.

"It'll be settled by the time you get back."

Your eyes narrow at his wording. "That doesn't sound like--"

"Lovie, go before we leave you here."

An empty threat. Felix would sooner lose the group than abandon you for a second. You roll your eyes, but seem to accept defeat. "You're impossible."

Farleigh smiles to himself before you can disappear into the crowd, "Kept woman, are we?"

You flip him off without looking back. The joke is typical. The topic would be cruel if you couldn't afford to keep up, but you're from enough money to sustain your own nightlife. You're not from a wealth that equals the Cattons, but the father you're always hesitant to mention works in finance. Farleigh doesn't have the details, but it's clear that you're comfortable enough to not need Felix's charity. Unlike Oliver.

"Was it just me or was that '47' a little...?"

To Lacy's credit, she's smart enough to realize that openly insulting you would only alienate Felix, so instead of embracing the clumsiness of her friend's comment, she brushes a strand of hair off her shoulder. "She's nice," she hums, "A little loud, but nice."

"Loud as in her voice or what she's wearing?"

Vultures picking at bones, too ravenous to consider tact. They'll attack whatever they can think of in an attempt to cope with the fact that you're the one with Felix wrapped around your finger. Farleigh knows that's all it is, and yet it digs at him.

Your outfits, your uncertainty in certain social situations. Those are all fair shots, fair comments for Farleigh to make.

"Clara," Lacy mumbles, an attempt at virtue signaling.

"No," the patience in Felix's voice seems to drain them of their good humor, "Answer the question. Explain what you meant."

Lacy laughs once, the sound awkward and strained. Her uncertainty is oddly gratifying. "Oh, nothing, really." She tilts her head, eyes innocent yet alluring as she stares at Felix. "She's sweet, really Felix, I like her. She's darling." The last sentence is said the same way one would to describe a puppy. "But she--she's not like us." Lacy takes a step forward. "C'mon Felix, you know what I mean."

"No, I don't."

"Lacy means," Farleigh's own voice surprises him, "That she's the kind of girl you actually go home with, and Lacy isn't."

Wow. Okay, technically true because you do go home with Felix, it just--accuracy feels like the least important part of what just came out of his mouth. Farleigh can't tell who's more shocked--Lacy and her gaping friend, Felix, or himself. Did he--did he just defend you of all people?

He blinks. You, the voice of reason that's always willing to point out when gossip crosses the line between catty and cruel, who maintains a 4.0 without trying, who paints their nails bright colors, who scrapbooks. That's who Farleigh stood up for?

This could be the rockbottom alcoholics always talk about.

"Lizzie," her friend begins sharply, "I think our--our friend's waving us over."

With that, Lizzie-not-Lacy and her friend abandon their places by the bar in favor of the anonymity of the center of the bar. Farleigh's too distracted by self disgust to note their expressions.

Felix steps towards him awkwardly, eyes unable to meet his. "That was--uh, good of you, mate."

Farleigh lets Felix's praise have its usual affects for a brief moment, embracing the warmth as Felix throws an arm around his shoulders. Then, reality hits Farleigh all over again. One word about this, and you'll be making him a friendship bracelet. "If you tell her about this, I'm telling her about how you didn't shut up about her all of Christmas break."

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

https://www.tumblr.com/psykopaths/742621470432313344

I think this may be definitely stretching, but this reminds me of best friend!felix and reader. <3

a stretch?? is that not classic best friend behavior?

can we get a felix angst where its not like felix causing the angst its the reader 😭 i dont know if I worded that correctly.but it’s always felix making the reader sad so maybe the other way around?

a/n we are giving felix a rough day >:)

i love queue,, i'm posting this and babysitting at the exact same time hehehe

----

Three songs. You've been sitting at the bar, undivided attention focused on a guy that walked up to you for three songs.

You place your elbow on the bar's surface, angling your head upwards so that it's easier to direct a grin at the stranger. The guy takes a partial step forward, his hand settling on the counter, about an inch away from your skin. Felix can feel some muscle in his law lock. Three and a half songs now.

"You okay?" Annabel's voice is warm against his skin, soft and yet still clear despite the heavy music.

Felix lets his eyes fall shut, his hand settling against Annabel's side. The odd, hollow feeling creating a pit in his stomach has to be a result of the influx of alcohol in his system. Or maybe he's over extended himself, one too many parties and social activities during a week in which he had to complete several, time consuming assignments.

Your distance isn't making these things easier, which is an okay thing to feel. It's even a fact he feels no shame admitting to himself. You're his friend--his best friend--and the two of you came here together. It's only natural for Felix to feel irritated at the thought of being so casually dismissed.

There's also the usual, completely understandable, worry. You're a girl...and while Felix knows you're capable, strong willed, and brilliant, he also understands how guys are.

Sure, Felix might not know that particular guy, but that doesn't mean Felix can't see right through him. Nice hair cut, confident stance, a familiarity in the way he looks at you...

Felix opens his eyes. "I'm fine." He gently squeezes Annabel's hip. "You need another drink?" His eyes land on you. You're giggling now. Beaming. "I'm getting one."

His hand drops back to his side. Annabel's lips pull into a frown. "Sure. I'll have whatever."

He nods once, the motion absentminded as he walks forward. The crowd is a mesh of enthusiastic bodies, packed together too tightly on a too small dance floor. They don't seem to mind, too distracted by the discounted drinks and the prospect of the long weekend the deal is meant to celebrate.

Felix approaches the side of the bar you're sitting at even though the bartender's closer to the other side. He has all night.

He doesn't need it. After a few seconds, there's the squeak of a shifting barstool and something warm touching his forearm. "Lex." Your name for him slips past your lips enthusiastically. You grin at him. "You're here."

Felix's irritation is still sharp enough to make him consider gently pulling his arm away from you, but your touch is so assured and oddly settling. He also likes the thought of you being so willing to hold onto him in front of that guy. "Needed a drink."

You briefly press your lips together, a hint of uncertainty tinging your expression. "I could've brought you one." You let your hand fall away from Felix before crossing your arms on your lap. "And Annabel--she's with you, right?"

There's something pressed between the syllables of your secondary comment that Felix doesn't get. You and Annabel seem to like each other well enough, chatting comfortably during group get togethers. And it's not like Felix was ignoring you to talk to her, you wandered away and Felix ran into Annabel. "You seemed busy."

Your eyebrows pinch together. "Oh, I'm being rude." You shake your head once in an attempt to dismiss any social missteps. "Felix, this is James..." You turn your head, smiling at the guy that's been patiently waiting for this. "And James, this is Felix."

James isn't the first guy to accidentally stumble onto you. They have enough in common to be interchangeable. They all look at you the same way, like you're something to take. They don't think to approach you until late enough in the night to assume that you've had a few. However, there's one thing that unites them more than anything else, and that's the way they react to Felix.

As soon as it's clear that you and Felix are friends, that you're close, they're doing all they can to silently promise that they meant to offense. That they didn't know. That their intentions were perfectly innocent and would have never manifested themselves as anything if they had known that they were treading on unsafe ground.

"James is in my anatomy class." So he already knows you. "And Felix is my friend."

"Best friend." That's the comment that usually does it.

Felix studies James's reaction. There should be something indicating some form of regret or inferiority. Instead, James straightens his spine and tilts his chin upwards a fraction of an inch. There's something determined in the look. "Felix. Nice to meet you. Your friend's talked a lot about you."

The pit in Felix's stomach expands into a chasm. He had never let himself consider the possibility that someone would take you away from him.

You're a relationship person. If this were to go further than a bar chat, it'd turn into more than that. James would fall for you, because who wouldn't? And that--that'd be it.

A boyfriend wouldn't let you sleep in his bed. A boyfriend wouldn't let you get away with a few just because kisses at the end of long night outs. A boyfriend wouldn't understand the two of you enough to let things stay the same.

"Yeah," Felix manages, "Nice to meet you, too." He straightens, his posture reaching a rigidness that's usually reserved for formal events back home. "Y'know she's never really mentioned you, and I'm around her enough to know."

You throw him a look. "We were just talking about how we haven't really talked much this semester."

"Not a lot of room for conversation between labs." James extends a hand, his fingers brushing against your arm. "Though you wouldn't know that watching this one." James tilts his head in your direction. There's a fondness in his expression that has Felix's stomach turning. "Want to see stable hands? Watch her dissect a cat."

Felix doesn't miss the way your expression instinctually sours. Anything that involves cutting into something that once was alive makes you a little nauseous. He's had to subtly comfort you after more involved labs, smoothing circles against your back and assuring you it was all for a good cause.

"Y'know the only reason she's fast is because cutting into animals makes her a little sick." You angle your head upwards to frown at him. The amount of heartache dissection based labs bring you has always embarrassed you. "But I know what you mean, steady hands."

You tilt your head, squinting your eyes slightly in confusion. Felix doesn't think he's said enough to upset you, but then again, who knows what kind of image you want James to hold onto?

There's no way James from intro to anatomy knows you the way Felix does. There's no way he ever could. Letting go of desired perceptions is at the heart of your friendship.

"Let's get a round."

You pull your arm away from the counter. "Lex, we can--"

"C'mon." Felix keeps his voice as harmless as possible. He places a hand on your shoulder, thumb instinctually dragging against the side of your collarbone. "Let me get to know your new friend, Lovie."

James taps his fingers against the edge of the bar. "Yeah," he mumbles, "We're all friendly."

You don't ease, but you also don't say anything or attempt to push Felix's hand away. He waves down a bartender, ordering something from the top shelf.

Felix briefly thinks of Annabel and his promise to bring her something. The bar's too crowded for him to wave her over without leaving, and if there's one thing that isn't an option now it's that. She'll find them if she feels like it, and either way, she's not the type to be bothered by that kind of thing.

James downs his shot with an ease that has Felix wanting to roll his eyes. You're fighting against a grimace, the way you usually do when drinking certain hard liquors without anything to follow. Despite his irritation, Felix still smooths circles against your back.

One round turns into another, which eventually turns into a third. James is chatty, comfortable and unflinching in his place by your side. Something about James's inability to take a hint makes it harder to keep the drinking lighthearted.

"'Nother round?"

You shake your head, the motion exaggerated and sluggish. "I'm out."

The reaction is too tired and genuine to be a sign of anything else besides you having a little more to drink than usual. Felix should take it as a sign to let any passive aggression go. You'll be crawling into his bed, in one of his T-shirts, by the end of the night. There won't be any reason to worry about James then, when he gets to smooth back your hair and brush his fingers against your skin without concern.

But rationality feels too distant for Felix to grasp onto, especially with that gnawing feeling still attacking his stomach. "Come on, Lovie, you don't want to tap out early in front of your new friend."

Leaning back into your seat, you look at Felix openly. For a fleeting moment, there's something unnervingly sober behind your eyes. He can feel you seeing right through him. "Are you okay?"

Felix blinks. "Why wouldn't I be?"

You prop your head up on an elbow, eyebrows pinching together. The haze of alcohol's pulling at you again. "You seem...weird."

He doesn't have a good response. There's no good way to describe the unease that's making it hard to just stand there. Maybe tonight should've been a dorm room night. The two of you could be reading together right now or listening to music or falling asleep to some movie.

"I'm tired."

You frown. "You want to go?"

The thought of leaving with you, of ending this interaction all together is more comforting than the thought of going to bed. "Think so."

You reach forward, not quite reaching Felix's hand but coming close enough for him to get the hint. He intertwines your fingers.

You turn your head to look over at James. He frowns, feeling the impending rejection. "Felix is all grown up, I think he can get back to his room by himself."

"We came here together." There's a sharpness to your voice that has Felix easing slightly, like the thought of ever leaving him to fend for himself is inherently ridiculous.

"Yeah." James presses his lips together into what isn't quite a smile. "I'll see you around."

Felix squeezes your hand. You push yourself to stand. "Yeah, I'll see you."

The two of you stumble out of the nightclub and into a much quieter, stiller world. The moon illuminates the street more than the few streetlights.

You two are walking so close together it's hard to tell who's supporting who. You're leaning against him, but Felix's hold on you is so tight he's not sure he'd be able to walk straight without you. He decides it doesn't matter.

Felix stops walking. It takes you a second to still. Even though you're only half a step ahead, you still turn around fully. Before you can say anything, Felix leans forward, pressing his lips against yours.

It takes you a moment to catch up with what's happening, but once you do, you lean into it. Felix pulls away slowly, his teeth dragging against your bottom lip.

"What was that about?"

Felix can feel the answer in his bones. He wanted to kiss you to prove to himself that he could, that nothing had changed. Instead of admitting that, he shrugs. "You, I guess."

You laugh, tugging on his arm to get him to start walking forward, "You're drunk."

"And you love me."

You roll your eyes. "Very much."

----

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

When best friend Felix and reader kiss (not a kiss on the cheek or forehead) does reader ever initiate it? I kind of notices it usually Felix who does.

yes!! i just see felix as so touchy he'd kiss reader more out of instinct, but reader for sure kisses felix

----

The washcloth is pressed against you temple. The fabric is dragged downwards, creating a damp trail from the spot above your left eyebrow to your chin.

Felix's expression pinches in concentration. He pulls the washcloth away from your face to examine the other side. His frown tells you all you need to know. "It's not coming off, is it?"

His lips part, and you mentally prepare yourself for the instinctual, teasing protests you're used to. "...Kind of," he admits slowly, his other hand moving to hold your chin. Felix is careful as he angles your head so that it's easier to examine his handiwork. "It's smudged."

He refocuses, the unmarked part of the towel finding a place near your jaw. You have to give him credit for even thinking of the makeup there. "Told you, it's not as quick and easy as it looks."

"And I told you," Felix counters, towel dipping beneath your chin, "I've got this."

There's such a heavy sense of determination in his voice, it's hard to not give into the fit of giggles attempting to crawl its way up your throat. This started as a joke, Felix insisting you could sit with him for five more minutes and you arguing that you needed to wash product off your face before the post-party sleepiness could kick in.

You grin, a small laugh slipping past your lips. Felix pauses, the cloth temporarily leaving your skin. "Lovie."

Another laugh. "What?"

"Hold still."

You can't remember a time in which washing your face relied so extensively on total stillness. Instead of pointing this out, you smile. "I am."

Felix frowns, fixing you with a look of such reprimanding disbelief you have to bite your tongue to keep from laughing again. You extend your arms, hands settling against his arms. "See?" Things feel a little less funny as his eyes meet yours. You swallow, chin raising a fraction of an inch. "Perfectly still."

He presses his lips lips together. There's something about his expression that you're not fully grasping. The awareness that you're missing something doesn't feel right. You focus on the set of his brow, on the look behind his eyes, on the way that his head angles itself forward so that he somehow feels even closer.

He moves slowly, lifting the rag to dab at the space beneath your eye. The unflinching care in his touch makes everything feel a little hazy. "Look up." It's instinct to listen. Felix drags the washcloth near your waterline. He's careful, taking his time in removing any remaining makeup. "Okay, y'can look down again."

Your eyes begin to flit downwards, but before they can land on something neutral, your eyes lock on Felix again. His eyebrows are still drawn together, his lips are now set in what almost feels like a pout. "Lex?"

The washcloth is dabbed against your forehead. "Hm?"

You're not sure where the overwhelming urge to be closer to him is coming from, you just know you're in no place to fight against it. "I'm going to move."

Instead of asking for a clarification or jokingly complaining about your warning, he moves the washcloth away from your skin. Felix rests his forearm against your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to follow through.

Before you can overthink, you shift onto your toes, leaning upwards until your lips are against his. Felix reciprocates immediately, his arm moving to press against your back. His free hand finds a place against the back of your head. You link your fingers behind his neck.

You drag your tongue against his bottom lip, savoring the faint taste of alcohol blending with something familiar and sweet. The result of the way drinking amplifies his hard candy addiction.

Felix leans closer, his weight pressing against you. It's instinct to take a partial step back to accommodate him. Your side hits something firm. The bathroom counter. His hands find your side, helping you lift yourself onto the counter. He takes a step forward, slotting himself between your legs.

When the need for air becomes dizzying, you pull back. Felix doesn't let you get far, turning his head to brush his lips against the corner of your mouth and then your cheek. Again and again until he eventually pulls away enough to rest his forehead against yours.

For a moment, there's only the sound of uneven breathing, and then Felix straightens enough to look at you. "What was--what was that for?"

You don't have an answer. At the very least, you don't have a coherent one. He was there and making you happy in that unjustifiably giddy way he does and somehow still so pretty beneath the harsh fluorescents of a dorm room bathroom. You wanted to, and knowing that Felix would reciprocate turned the offhanded desire into a need.

You shrug, ignoring the heat making its way up your neck. "You're very good at makeup removal."

Felix's hand finds your knee, thumb gently brushing against your skin. "Really? I've never done this before." His hand shifts upwards slightly, fingers squeezing the start of your thigh. "Must be a natural talent."

It'd be easy to point out the fact that he managed to lose the washcloth and that you're sure you look more like a raccoon than someone without makeup, but you're too content to bring those things up. You smile, settling on an only somewhat sarcastic, "Clearly."

His eyes narrow, a grin desperately trying to be anything else tugging at his lips. "No need for that tone."

"What?" Your voice comes out at a suspicious pitch. "You're doing a good job..." You trail off beneath Felix's steady stare. "...And I have to wash my face after anyway, so as long you're having fun."

Felix halfheartedly glares. "I'm doing all of it."

His resolve makes you laugh. Maybe he's tipsier than you thought. "You're going to wash my face?"

"Don't laugh." The sentence is followed by a huff of air that comes dangerously close to violating his own instructions.

You press your lips together in an attempt to seem serious, even here's a good chance Felix can see right through that. "Sorry." You decide, then, that you don't mind the thought of Felix attempting to complete your skin care routine for you. It's worth it. "You can wash my face."

Felix watches you skeptically, unaccustomed to your lack of arguing. "Okay," he says, straightening slightly, "Good."

----

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

i get this vibe that best friend reader was a cheerleader in high school … https://pin.it/1OAic25B1 😋

was she popular in high school or not really?

omg!! love this and the jennifer inspo pic,, very bestfriend!reader with the uniform and the fun vibes lo

ik this is kind of a straightforward question but you've given me such a perfect opportunity to dip into character analysis/evaluation

but bc i have a long reply, i'll give a short answer here and my thought process (and some character discussion on saltburn in general,, more specifically on oliver and felix) below the cut;

short answer: reader was popular enough in a private school full of rich/extremely privileged kids, she wasn't running her high school, but she got invited to the fun activities bc she made friends with the students that were older than her, i kind of picture her like a smart karen if you've seen mean girls, kind of along for the ride with the popular kids but not actively working at it/being mean about it

but!! she's not fully aware of her popularity/influence on others,, which i think is her "major flaw",, which is something i think all (main) saltburn characters have (which is why they feel so real),, i'll discuss that below the cut :)

so something i love about saltburn is all of the (main) characters have a relatively clear flaw(s) that still leave some room for interpretation,, for example ollie and over indulging/consuming (he's "too much of a good thing" personified to me, i think the reveal that he comes from a pretty well off/financially comfortable family proves that taking too much is more of his issue than jealousy),

and felix is flawed in that typical rich kid way (he's a llittle weird in the way that influencer nepo babies are weird 😭 i'm sorry, i promise i still love him), he's so removed from poverty/struggle in a way that gives him a subconsciously self righteous ego, he's not naive but his perception of reality is warped, and in the end it's this belief that he's removed from real world dangers paired with his ego that catches up with him

so i wanted to do something similar with bestfriend!reader and in my head her "fatal flaw" is that she views herself as an underdog even though if you think about it,, she's not really

i want to make it clear it isn't a pick me thing!! at all! i see best friend! reader as not having the easiest childhood bc of some family things and it's not easy being openly smart in late elementary/middle school (especially in the 90s/2000s which is when she would have been that age...i think?)

so her insecurities are real,, but a part of her kind of embraces the "outsider" label bc it's familiar, she doesn't see herself as this polished, socialite despite being familiar with them and their world,, and even though she means it, to people that don't know her, it can be a little annoying to people more on the outskirts than her (cough, cough,, this is lowkey why oliver doesn't like her at first)

bc even though she's not as wealthy as felix and co,, and she's not fully embraced by his friends, she isn't this outsider that has no chance at getting in, people like her enough,,

it isn't perfect, but it's enough to get by, for example, people laugh at her jokes/comments, but usually, it's when she didn't mean to be funny; she always knows what to wear, but she doesn't always know what to say; she knows how to act at parties/knows how to be a fun "drunk", but feels awkward/under a microscope when at smaller things like dinners and group study sessions

also!! a little side note that i just think is fun, i think farleigh and reader's relationship is the marker of how well she's fitting in,, as soon as farleigh starts getting along with her, it's hard to deny that she's fitting in bc he's not easy to win over

i think all of this works as a point of contention between reader and oliver,, bc at first it's okay to hear "oh i get it,, it's hard to fit in with felix's friends" but that can only sound so genuine when farleigh starts calling reader over to hang out at parties and then later starts hanging out with them just bc

can also see reader having an identity crisis the day it's pointed out that she's friends with farleigh 😭 like one day another one of her friends asks her to do something and she's like "can't, i'm getting coffee and studying with farleigh later" and then it hits her like 😟

https://www.tumblr.com/yesimwriting/745776818108366848/when-best-friend-felix-and-reader-kiss-not-a-kiss

That kiss was HEATED. I had this thought of Felix and reader have their moment in which the kiss turns intensely passionate considering their relationship, and you mentioned that Felix wants to hook up with reader so would he ever push it. Like maybe he leads his hand on the skin of her inner thigh, but the real question is how does reader react. Would she fall into the group of people who always lets Felix take the reins and be in to the situation or would it simply freak her out because “we’re best friends.”

so happy you felt the theatrics of it all,, writing that kiss made me go hm..

i think felix is the master of pushing/blurring lines in the most lighthearted, casually dismissible way possible,, like most of the time when things are getting a little too touchy, it's when both of them are drunk/tipsy so it's easy to laugh off and dismiss,,

and whether they're drunk or sober, felix is an expert in reader's body language bc they are that close, so he's constantly subtly checking in and reminding himself that not everyone's as comfortable/casual about those things as felix

reader having an easy out is so important to him for so many reasons,, it protects the friendship and also keeps everything comfy

i feel like reader's reaction depends on so many factors...if she's fun, giggly tipsy and she's happy she'll probably be more open to things,, only pulling away/slowing things down if she realizes she wants things to go further bc while felix might be okay with hooking up with friends, she's scared of getting lumped into the group that obsessively hangs off his arm

if she's feeling a little insecure/jealous,, i can see reader being even more okay with things,, can also see felix picking up on that and trying to use it to his advantage, but that's another thing

however they are not perfect and felix is the type to border on being a little too into the reader and he's also so pretty and reader is just a girl

so let's have a drabble on that :))

"And what--" A laugh tumbles into the words, clumsy and a little breathless. The sound leaves you warm all over, not unlike the feel of sunlight soaking into your skin after an English winter. "What was--what was that last guy on about?"

The question is so enthusiastic, you can't help but grin. Felix is so determined to piece together the words he barely heard as you--with Farleigh's help--attempted to guide him into a cab. "I think he was trying to kick you out."

Felix turns onto his side, head shifting to rest against the edge of his pillow, the angle awkward enough to strain his neck. You make a mental note to not let him fall asleep like that. "I don't think so."

You laugh. "I do."

"You're very cyclical."

Another laugh as your elbow presses into his mattress for support as you try to sit up a little more. You're an odd combination of drained and giddy. Your limbs feel weighed down, making each movement a major commitment, and yet everything's okay. Fuzzy and warm and happy. "You mean cynical?"

In an impressive display of focus, Felix pushes himself so that he's almost sitting, most of his weight resting on his forearm. He pauses, staying there for a beat before sitting up fully. "I said that."

"No," you mumble with an exaggerated shake of your head. "You said cycli--cyclical, which is when something's a circle." You pause, mind not exactly catching up with your mouth. "Goes. It goes in circles, like a cycle--because it's a cycle." You sigh at your uncertainty, turning your head to look at him. "Cycles are just circles?"

Felix presses his lips together, spine straightening as he shifts even closer. "They go in circles, Lovie."

The corner of his mouth tugs itself upwards. His knee close to yours. You straighten your legs, the exposed skin of your thigh pressing against his leg. "Very astute."

Felix's chin dips downwards, his gaze falling towards the bed. You look down, squinting at wrinkled sheets and resting limbs in an attempt to understand what he's looking at. His fingers move to rest against your leg. "All from trying to keep up with you."

You lift your head at the sudden lowness of his voice. How long has he been this close? "Well, you're doing a really good job."

"High praise."

He angles his head forward. A strand of his hair falls forward, but Felix doesn't react. His attention remains solely on you.

Being able to openly examine Felix this closely is a rare luxury. The low lighting of the room tinges his skin with a warm glow. His features are always lovely, but when he's this relaxed they seem better suited to him. There's a lightness that contrasts from any sharpness, a softness that makes him such a gentle giant not even his eyebrow piercing can redeem him.

You've seen people be intimidated by him, have picked up on the way that some avoid his gaze when wandering around campus and how they twist themselves to please him. You fully aware that it's possible, but you're having an extremely hard time grasping it.

You tilt your chin up a fraction of an inch without a second thought, your lips now so close to his jaw it'd be so easy to...

You dismiss the train of thought as assuredly as you can manage anything right now. Your resolve feels unsteady as you part your lips. There's something you should say...some second joke or something else entirely.

Felix's hand shifts forward, his fingers now closer to your inner thigh than the edge of your leg. He drags his thumb against your skin carefully, a steady back and forth pattern.

His eyes find yours before dipping his head forward. He presses his lips against yours, the contact steady and soft. Questioning. You tilt your head upwards, your bottom lip dragging against his.

A hand finds the back of your head, guiding you back. He's everywhere, fingers in your hair, hand inching further up your inner thigh. And yet it's not close enough. The urge for more of this, more of Felix is dizzying.

You part your lips further, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. He moves without breaking contact, settling his weight against his knees. His fingers press into your thigh, gently encouraging your legs to adjust to make room for him. You register a faint tug against your hair. Felix pulls your bottom lip between his teeth.

He pulls back slowly, teeth grazing against your lip before releasing you. The loss of contact, of total distraction, leaves you breathless. So breathless you're shocked that you didn't notice before.

Still panting, the reality of all you didn't notice hits you hard. You and Felix are comfortable with each other...more comfortable than a lot of best friends are. But he's--he's close in a way that you're not sure he's been before.

You're quiet, eyes focused on a spot just above Felix's shoulder. This can't possibly change things between the two of you. You've been drinking and--and what's a tipsy kiss between the two of you? Besides, Felix started it, so he can't feel weird about it. You press your lips together, forcing yourself to not think about the fact that you did nothing to stop it, or even slow it down.

He takes his time untangling himself from you. His hand moves away from your head, fingers trailing down to your shoulder. He squeezes your thigh once before taking his hand back. Felix shifts back, moving to sit next to you.

Felix exhales, body relaxing. He reaches forward, hand searching for yours. You squeeze his palm to yours. "You're getting good at that."

You're not sure you've done much of what just happened, but his praise feels so light and genuine, you have to smile. "All from trying to keep up with you."

Felix lets out a breath that feels like a laugh. He turns his head, pressing a quick kiss against he side of your head. "You're a natural."

You grin, moving your head to rest against his arm. Maybe that wasn't that weird--not for Felix. You know for a fact he's done a lot more with girls he considers friends. "I'm tired."

"Tired you out?" You can hear the grin in his voice, which forces you to keep your lips pressed together to keep from laughing. In protest of his smugness, you start to attempt to slip his fingers out of his grasp. He squeezes your fingers in an attempt to hold you in place. "Sto--stop. I was kidding." You still, lifting your head enough to look up at him. He watches you with eyes to plead for you to believe his innocence. "Kidding."

"I don't believe you, but I'm too tired to argue."

"Wow," he whispers, pulling your hand towards his lap, "That is tired."

Felix bends and straightens your fingers. "What's even more tired is that I'm letting that go too."

Ignoring your attempt at snark, he lifts your hand to kiss the back of your palm. "Then I guess we have to go to bed, so that you'll be ready to argue in the morning."

You're still as he traces the lines of your palm. Despite wanting to go bed, you don't move. "Good idea."

He sets your hand down before carefully moving his arm away from you. Felix expertly ignores the dirty look you throw in his direction. "C'mon, bed, Lovie."

With a sigh, you nod, pulling your legs forward to crawl beneath his sheets.

----

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

Would bestie reader just say that she and felix are soulmates?

For example: her and farleigh are talking about the future and what they want to do and she just says "i would probably work and move somewhere sunny because felix doesnt really like the rain". " You want to live with felix?" " OFC, hes my soumate"

Felix: 🥺

yes yes yes! omg they so would pull the platonic soulmate card

You don't know who decided to label group study sessions as 'productive', but you're convinced they've never actually been to one. As a concept, they're the perfect way to balance social needs and academic responsibilities. It's a way to focus on your school work without isolating yourself completely.

In practice, group study sessions are an academic-hang-out purgatory.

"Y'know how you asked to not be interrupted until you finished your organic bio reading, unless there was an emergency?" Farleigh's voice has now yanked you out of the world of protein and enzyme molecules.

You sigh. If this is him giving into his inability to not snark at you, you might have to pick up your text book and hit him over the head with it. "Is there an emergency?"

The dryness of your response does little to dissuade him. You lift your head slightly. The reading break that's being forced onto you is an opportunity to get ready to copy some bullet points into your notebook. You reach for your highlighter, but before your fingers can grasp it, Farleigh's pulling it out of reach.

You straighten, back pressing into the wooden back of the library's chair. He ignores your glare, thumb pushing the neon pink cap upwards before snapping it back into place.

"I'd be careful, Farleigh." Felix's chair shifts with a soft groan, all four of the chair's legs fully settling on the ground as he sits up and flattens his feet. "That's not one of her nice looks."

"You'd know."

You frown, some half thought out sarcastic retort balancing on the edge of your tongue. Felix beats you to the punch. "You'd know if you had any real friendships."

Farleigh presses down on your highlighter's cap, a quiet click interrupting his silence as it clicks into place. "Friendship. Is that what we're calling it?"

There's a knowingness to the comment that has a hint of warmth attempting to tinge your cheeks. You're used to the jokes and little comments about you and Felix, especially from Farleigh, but his tone hints at a sharpness you're not in the mood for. Sometimes he feels like pushing, turning his jokes and comments into something more. You've been in the library for some time now, you're sure the stillness is making him restless in a way that will only add to that.

"Is this the emergency you interrupted my reading for?"

He shakes his head once, forearm moving to rest against the table in front of you. "Theoretically," he starts, the single word drawn out in a way that has you rolling your eyes, "If Madison was seen leaving a party with Abigail's ex-boyfriend, would that count as an emergency?"

No way. Your jaw drops. Madison and Abigail, roommates that seem perpetually trapped in the outer orbit of Felix's friend group, started the year as total best friends. Then, one day, for reasons that no one you know has been able to figure out, everything turned into a sort of unspoken competition between them. It's such an odd dynamic, you and Farleigh have to talk about it every time there's an update.

"What?" You set your arms over your textbook, leaning forward to better listen. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"You wanted to read organic bio."

Farleigh knows exactly what he's doing. He sat on this piece of information and only dropped it when it became convenient to have something worth saying. "You knew before I said that." You turn in your seat to look over at Felix. "Did you know?"

"I spent the entire night with you," he says, "I know what you know."

Yeah, you and Felix were particularly invested in your own world the last time you went out together. The two of you spent most of the night trying drink combinations you'd normally never get, Felix laughing as your negative reactions grew more theatrical as the night went on. "Well, you're not very invested."

It's not an accusation. You know Felix well enough to know that he's rarely particularly interested in most gossip. A part of it might come from the fact that everyone goes out of their way to present themselves in certain ways when around Felix. Rumors about palpable passive aggression seem a lot less real when the people the rumors are about are constantly trying to gloss over any imperfections in his presence.

"You two are too invested." He turns his head to look at you, a small smile playing at his lips. "You only get along when you're gossiping."

You straighten, lifting an arm off of the table to poke Felix's arm. "We all need hobbies." You then turn your head forward to look at Farleigh, "Okay, tell me everything and do it in less than 5 minutes, or I'm not going to go back to studying."

Farleigh's eyes briefly drop towards the textbook in front of you. "You worry too much." The way he says it feels less concerned and more like an observation of something he finds grating. "We all know you're going to end up at John Hopkins." It lacks any type of inflection. It feels like fact. An inevitability.

Graduate school is currently a foreign, distant concept, and you'd like to keep it that way. You're not sure why, but picturing your future education isn't as easy as you had hoped it would be. It's as if there's some kind of mental wall blocking your ability to connect with the next step in becoming a doctor, when all your classes will revolve around the subjects you don't love and you'll have to dissect and watch more surgeries than ever.

You tap our fingers against the wooden surface in front of you. You're not sure what the right kind of response to this type of thing is. "Uh--realistically, John Hopkins is far from everyone I know, and I don't think Felix would like Maryland, so..."

Farleigh raises an eyebrow as he finally sets down your highlighter. "You're factoring in Felix?" The question is still registering as Farleigh gestures in Felix's direction. "You want to live with him?"

"Yeah." While a lot of your future is blurry in your mind, Felix is clear, certain. "Yeah, he's my soulmate."

Farleigh's eyes widen slightly at the candidness of your admission. It didn't feel that heavy when you said it. There are a lot of ways for someone to be your soulmate.

"You want to--to live together after this?" You turn your neck to look over at Felix. He's already facing you, but his eyes are focused on his lap. "Like with me?"

"Yeah..." You admit again as you pull your hands towards you. Maybe you shouldn't have said anything without thinking. "Do you not want to live with me?"

"No, I do," he forces out the words quickly, his gaze briefly falling towards you. "I didn't realize you were--" He clears his throat, forcing himself to straighten. "Soulmate." Felix's hand reaches for the underside of your chair, pulling you towards him with no warning. "I'm your soulmate."

You're never speaking without thinking again. "There are a lot of ways to be someone's soulmate, so don't start."

His fingers move up the edge of the chair before finding your knee. He's beaming. "'M not starting anything."

----

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

ELLE IM HERE FOR JEALOUS FELIX IDEA WE WERE DISCUSSINF …

olive i made felix extra unhinged here just for you <3

----

“So…” The word is as small as it is hollow. You squeeze your hands together, attention settling on the way your skin strains against the tendons. So implies that the person speaking has somewhere to go, something to say. 

Felix stalls, halfway between his dorm’s entryway and his bed. A beat passes before he finally turns around. “So.” His feels a lot more definite. 

The nail of your left thumb presses into the cuticle of your right. “I uh–” The world is too hazy for this. If you had known the night wouldn’t end in its usual way, with you and Felix giggly and content in that drowsy way, you would have turned down that last shot. “If you’re upset, we can talk about it.” 

He continues forward, steps casual as he reaches the bed. Felix sits down with a soft sigh, the sound tired but not exactly irritated. “Upset?” He repeats gently, body shifting back to rest against a pillow. “Why would I be upset?” 

The genuineness of the question throws you. Felix didn’t seem to need someone to explain why he would be upset when he practically pulled you out of the bar. Felix didn’t seem confused when he barely gave you a second to say goodbye to a girl you met through your roommate. He didn’t stop to think about why he might be upset when he left without saying anything to any of his friends. 

All of this felt so worth mentioning when you were walking next to Felix on an empty sidewalk, eyes focused on making out cracks in the pavement to keep yourself from staring at him. “Because we got separated at the party, and–” 

You blink. You’re sorry–you know you’re sorry that Felix’s feelings were bruised, and you know that you could have been a little more intentional in the way you treated him after you started drinking. Felix always takes you into consideration, it doesn’t matter who he’s with or what state he’s in. You know there are things you feel bad about, and you remember the moment that you realized that Felix wasn’t by your side, but the details, the bulk of the night, are all blurred beyond distinction. 

Early on into the night, you recognized Dina, a girl from your roommate’s friend group. Then, she introduced you to Nick. He bought you and Dina drinks, and then dancing…the three of you, and then eventually just you and Nick. After that, all you have is brief snapshots, each murkier than the last. Asking for a glass of water at the bar, Nick progressively moving closer, a girl complimenting your outfit, more drinks, Nick and the warmth of his breath against your ear. 

You take a step forward. “And I wasn’t the nicest.” You force your arms to relax. Felix veering towards unexplainable tranquility is strange, but it isn’t worse than his anger. At the very least, it’s disorientating enough to feel better than straight forward anger. “We went out together and I didn’t–you’re always so good to me.” You frown, guilt prodding at your chest. “You–you check in on me, and you get me water, and you sit with me…” The words cram in on themselves, wedging themselves in your throat. Great, you’re trying to apologize and now you’re going to start crying, “Even when everyone wants to sit with you.”

“Lovie,” he whispers the nickname so calmly it briefly throws you. For a beat, you’re too confused to be upset. Felix takes advantage of the lapse, lifting a hand to pat the available space next to him.

You take a tentative step forward, and then another, again and again until you’re within reach of his bed. Before you can try to sit, Felix extends an arm, hand moving to rest against your hip. The sudden contact makes you still. His thumb shifts, brushing against the sliver of exposed skin between your skirt and top. 

Your general uncertainty is catching up with your whiplash from all the directions you’ve been pulled in tonight. He’s touching you so carefully. How can this be the same guy that grabbed your shoulder and barely thought to mutter a tense we’re going before walking away.

Without thinking, you lift your hand, pressing your palm against the back of his so that his hand has to lie flat against you. “I’m sorry.” 

Felix tilts his head back slightly, eyes finding yours. You’re not sure what he’s looking for, but he’s far from shy about it, taking in every detail of your expression openly. “I know.” It’s not exactly the proclamation of understanding and forgiveness you wanted, but it’s not a bad start. You take a partial step to the side, ready to sit down. Felix squeezes your hip, forcing you to still. “Sit with me?”

The phrasing is familiar enough for you to understand exactly what he’s asking. You nod once. Taking that as all the conformation he needs, Felix pulls back to give you the space needed to sit on his lap.

As soon as you’re settled, Felix’s hand finds your knee. There’s an affection in the way that his nails drag against your skin that has you easing. You’re still not completely sure on where you stand. Felix’s mood shifted so quickly, and you’ve yet to talk about what happened tonight, but this, his care and affection, is something you can trust. 

“I didn’t…” His voice is quiet, soft. That doesn’t mean they don’t feel startling. You lean into him, turning your head to watch him openly. “I didn’t like feeling away from you.” 

“I know,” the admission is quick, as if accepting the guilt fast enough will warp time and space and erase his hurt from existence. You place a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know what happened–I–I was really drunk and then I looked over and you–you weren’t there, and I couldn’t remember how long it had been since you were.” The explanation is awkward and wordy, but it’s the only way you can think to articulate anything, a testament to the alcohol still in your system. “You know I’d never do anything to hurt your feelings on purpose, right?” 

Felix pulls your hand off his shoulder. You frown until you feel his fingers find their place between yours. “Yeah,” he says, “I do know that.”

That’s something. You squeeze his hand, glad for the assurance of the contact. Your thumb brushes against his knuckles. Felix’s hand is now firmly settled against the space right above your knee. You’re on his lap. You’re not far from him. All of it should feel okay, should feel like enough. 

Slowly, you lift your other hand, setting your forearm against his shoulder as your fingers find his scalp. The softness of Felix’s hair is always a pleasant surprise. There’s a silkiness to the strands that feels enhanced. It feels like it should  be a result of expensive product, but Felix is so naturally lovely you wouldn’t be surprised if it was genetic.

He angles his head a fraction of an inch upwards to make it easier to look at you. He’s watching you with slightly parted lips. The little distance that’s left becomes a weight you’re incapable of supporting with no warning. You lean forward without thinking, lips meeting his. 

Felix reacts immediately, hand inching up your thigh. His teeth graze against your bottom lip with more pressure than you’re used to. With no warning, he shifts, lips brushing against the corner of your mouth. Felix continues at a pace that’s dizzying, a series of fluttery kisses against your cheek, your jaw, the start of your neck.

“Lex…” The shakiness of your voice makes the heat crawling up your chest burn a little warmer.

He briefly stills, forehead resting against your neck. “Lovie?” The only response you can manage is a distracted hum. Felix releases your hand in order to rest his palm near your shoulder. His thumb smooths circles against the base of your neck. “Have you ever had a hickey?”

The question is so absentminded and breathless you’re almost not sure if you’re meant to respond. Not that you’d know how to answer the question regardless. It’s not like you never went out before meeting Felix. You’ve had experiences, have kissed other guys, but you’re usually the type to push them off before drunken affection goes too far. 

Even though you’re alone with Felix, and you’re completely aware that he’d never actually judge you for the discrepancies between your levels of experience, it’s not an easy thing to admit. Especially when you think of all the times you’ve seen the start of maroon tinted marks peeking out from beneath the collar of his shirts. 

“Can give you one, if you want.” The offer is whispered so innocently, for a moment you think you must have misheard him. He presses another kiss against your skin. “So y’can see what it’s like.” 

When you don’t react fast enough, Felix places a chaste kiss against your collarbone. You force yourself to hold onto reality. “Lex,” you try again, voice doing its best to remain even. There should be a definite answer. You’re not sure what’s gotten into him tonight, and you know what the objectively correct answer is. This might be extremely casual to Felix, but you’re not as used to this kind of thing, and you’d never forgive yourself if you let something ruin your friendship. You’re trying to form the words, but you can’t get the rejection out. 

“If you want,” Felix starts again, leaving another kiss against your skin, “You can give me one after.” Another kiss. “That seems fair, yeah?” 

The offer catches your attention more than it should. You’ve seen marks littered all over his skin…and you’ve thought about them more than you would ever admit. Some concentrated, small, dark patches left there by teeth. Others more like a blend of ink blots, crawling up his skin, the edges a red that could just as easily be lipstick. Other people leaving evidence of their existence, of their closeness to Felix–your Felix.

Would it be such a bad thing to be that person just this once? 

You nod. “Yeah.” You’re still nodding when you feel his teeth graze against his skin. Your eyes shut on instinct. “Okay. That sounds–” You’re forced to cut yourself off with a sigh. “That sounds fair.” 

Felix grins against your skin. He’s more about it now, open mouthed kisses growing more urgent by the second. With each scrape of teeth against the sensitive spot at the base of your neck, there’s a soothing drag of his tongue against the irritated skin. The more time he spends on you, the harder it is to focus on anything that isn’t Felix. 

With a final trail of kisses down to your collarbone, Felix straightens. The loss of contact makes you pout. The reaction makes Felix grin as his fingers move to unbutton the top of his shirt. He leans forward, pressing a quick kiss against your lips. 

He releases his shirt, leaning back to give you more access. You lean forward before you can think, mouth brushing against the edge of his jaw. Felix’s hand finds the back of your head, holding you to him. You work your way down to the start of his neck, embracing everything that is him. His warmth; the smell of cologne, cigarettes, sweat, and something else that’s distinctly Felix; and the taste of skin. 

Your teeth press into his neck testingly. Felix sighs, the sound heavy and needy. His hold on you tightens, encouraging you to use your teeth more steadily. You give in, taking care to smooth your tongue against his skin after. You start the process over, repeating your ministrations over again and again until it’s hard to breathe right. 

You take your time pulling away, lips dragging against his skin before you finally rest your forehead against his shoulder. Felix’s hand drifts away from the back of your head, settling on your shoulder warmly. “That’s my girl.” The praise makes you grin. “You did so good, I’m almost jealous.” 

His good humor seems to constrict around that last part. You don’t fully get it, but you’re too content to question it. You lift your head enough to look him in the eye. “You know I only have eyes for you, darling.”

It’s an attempt at returning the joke, but the way his eyebrows pinch together make it feel like something else. That lingering angst seems to pass him by, because he leans forward, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Me, too, sweetheart.” 

You smile, letting your temple fall against his arm, completely content.

----

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

Lmao felix taking a girl to his dorm full of polaroids of the reader.

Random girl: could you maybe... Takes those down?

Felix: get the fuck out

..... Some time later....

On the phone:

Felix: and then she asked me if i could take those down... Who tf says that?

Farleigh: you two are so fucking dumb

you get it, you get it, you get it

especially on felix immediately kicking the girl out,, anything that makes it look like someone is trying to displace bestfriend!reader gives him an immediate ick, even if it's an accident

some girl has definitely tried to put on one of the oversized sleep shirts felix considers reader's and he's like "wait...that one's...not clean" and the girl is like okay? and takes the shirt he does offer her and even though nothing happened felix is suddenly a little mentally turned off and he has no idea why 😭

best friend!reader is basically a saint to him, it's like accidentally stepping on sacred ground and he isn't even aware of it, but farleigh can tell bc c'mon

https://pin.it/mpegfRNDz

https://pin.it/22qAvcSnV

I feel like best friend reader’s bedroom would have a mix of traditionalism given how old her ancestral home is but tries to add her own modern tastes to it

i LOVE this sm, they fit so well with best friend!reader’s vibe and i def see her as the type whose determined to leave a very personal touch on her space

i think her home’s very eclectic in a fun way, i haven’t written best friend! reader’s mom in yet but i see her as a free spirit that tried to make their home fun and kind of ‘whimsical’, and growing up around that has made reader a little modern eclectic,, like a vivienne westwood vibe i think