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lilyrachelcassidy · 10 days

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Dhudisbsjslansjl. Jealous Felix Who “tries to mark what’s his.” Omg, ily, this is so perfect

ELLE IM HERE FOR JEALOUS FELIX IDEA WE WERE DISCUSSINF …

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

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“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 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.

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

#recs #literally obsessed #felix catton x reader #bestfriend!felix

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lilyrachelcassidy · 12 days

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It’s so sweet, I wanna scream ✨✨

BestFriend Felix officially a fav trope 🔥🔥

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

#felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix x reader #bestfriend!felix #saltburn x reader

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lilyrachelcassidy · 17 days

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✨🌈SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING🌈✨

Love you so much! Thank u, icon!!! Also really hoping to be reading some of ur new stuff soon<3

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lilyrachelcassidy · 19 days

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The emotional rollercoaster u r taking us on, Clary!!! Ahhhhhhhh… I just love the way you depict Felix’s simultaneous desperation and exasperation with Reader, and how he hates to see her transforming over time, living her life without him. It’s like he has this projected version of her in his head and accordingly he wants Reader to match up to it, because otherwise it would mean that the outside world is changing her and the process is out of his reach. Genius! It’s almost like Felix wants to own Reader and that would be the only mean to sate his obsession?? Waiting for p3!!

𝘰𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥!𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘰𝘯 𝘩.𝘤.'𝘴 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰)

pairing: obsessed!down bad!felix catton x fem!reader summary: after the holidays, felix struggles to come to terms with his feelings for you and your sudden change. to what lengths will he go to satisfy his need for you? warnings: explicit language, sexual and misogynistic descriptors, masturbation, themes of purity and corruption, use of alcohol wc: 3.8k+

Felix wouldn’t see you again until after the holidays. He had meant to text or call, but he needed time to think of what to say to you. How could he possibly voice his thoughts to you without sounding utterly deranged? Besides, being around his family wasn’t exactly the most helpful in staying sane. Saltburn activities always seemed to be in the way. Then, the first day back arrived. There were no revisions yet, so it was just the tutorial. He waited patiently at the library, eager to see you.

And so he waited…and waited. He couldn’t count how many times he checked his watch and whipped his head around. Maybe you forgot…but he knew deep down that you rarely forgot anything, especially concerning his academics. You were always trying to steer him right.

But after what had happened, Felix could admit that things were a bit tense. But surely it wasn’t that bad, right? He figured giving you a call couldn’t hurt. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Where the fuck are you? Are you skiving?” “Like you did with me all break?” “Listen, I had lots to think about.” “I bet you did. Annabel wailed all holiday about you and blamed me. Next time, just don’t drag me into it, okay?”

“...fuck, I’m sorry, she’s a bit mental. I didn’t know. And you’re a lovely snog, I swear it. Just afraid of ruining…what we have.” Ruining you, he had meant to say ruining you. But he had a mind not to chase you away. Not after he hadn’t had a taste of you in so long.

Then, a beat of silence. “...I get that.” And, of course, you did. You accepted him despite the many times you had to explain the word “profligate” to him or the times he purposefully changed the subject during your tutorial. He gave himself entirely to you, and you welcomed him with open arms. How could he be so reckless with your pureheartedness?

“So…I’ll see you in a bit?” “Maybe not…I fell behind at the end of last term. D’you mind if I just take this one to myself?”

Felix knew he had a flair for drama. It was inevitable due to the fact that Elspeth Catton was his mother. But it was an understatement to say that your words shattered him, so much so that he had to white-knuckle his phone to ensure it wouldn’t fall. His eyes burned, and his throat dried up. Oh, how he hated how you rendered him to such a state without even meaning to. If only you knew what you did to him.

“...yeah, that’s alright.” “You sure?” “Mhm. Just don’t forget me, yeah?” “Don’t be silly, Felix. I’ll have time to chat.”

The two of you laughed off the tension from earlier, Felix hanging onto every single story you told him about your holiday break—how you dearly missed your pets, how quiet your hometown was compared to uni life at Oxford. He listened and smiled, so unaware of how much he had missed your voice and how head over heels he was.

That’s why it hurt so deeply to know you wouldn’t be with him as much this term, that you wouldn’t be his. He had asked you not to forget him, but he’d sooner die than have you figure out how genuine that request was.

And though he saw you try your hardest to keep this promise in the coming weeks, life was, unfortunately, always an obstacle. Lengthy phone calls turned into going straight to your voicemail. Texts from you were rare, and most of his texts were unanswered. He’d catch glimpses of you in the distance, always preoccupied, rushing off to one of your classes or disappearing into your building with your roommates. You hadn’t done anything wrong, and he understood why it was so hard to reach you. But he couldn’t shake the sinking feeling in his chest. After all he had done to get close to you, he felt like he was regressing to square one. Before the night at Kings Arms, the tutorials, and the revisions. Before you.

This continued until your third term together. He tried not to be upset, but he was never indeed the best at dealing with his problems healthily. One night of drunken frustration in late April led to him smashing his phone against the wall. He wasn’t even sure as to what had gotten him so riled up. All that he was sure of was that now, he had no consistent way to talk to you. Maybe it was better this way; now he had an excellent reason to seek you out on campus.

After an agonizing week of no contact, the next time he caught you was early on a Friday afternoon, surrounded by presumably new friends at Tom Quad. The sight of the sun shining down on you as you smiled so radiantly brought about one of his own. But as he put out his cigarette to strike up a conversation, he noticed something.

He couldn’t fully wrap his head around it at first. It was skin, your damp, glistening skin, no longer covered by the oversized Oxfam jumpers or their ugly trousers. A white cami top replaced them, lace tantalizingly outlining a plunging neckline. It made him realize that he had never seen you in such tight clothing before, the way he was basically ogling at how nicely it supported your cleavage. Did you have those this whole time? The jean shorts that hugged tightly around your curves didn’t exactly help his thoughts either. How long has it genuinely been since he had actually taken a proper look at you?

“Felix!” You had spotted him through the sea of students and fearlessly waved him over. Although eager to speak with you again, he couldn’t help but feel slightly uneasy as he approached you. The same girl, he had to remind himself that. You were the same girl, just as he left you. The modest and timid girl he had fallen for.

“Did you rummage through the wrong closet this morning?” “Haha, very funny. India actually took me shopping.” “Clearly.” “Oh, quiet you. I needed some summer clothes. How do I look?” You gave him a twirl.

“Trashy” and “whore” were among the first things that popped up in his mind. Ass peeking out from under your shorts as you twirled, nipples very obviously hard and poking against your top. Were you even wearing a bra under? It wasn’t exactly crazy to dress like this; almost every single girl who threw themselves at him styled themselves this way.

And he hated it. He even hated how amazing you made it look, barely leaving anything to the imagination. He hated how easy it was to visualize you underneath him, bare and begging to take him. His near-hallucination of you during that winter night with Annabel flickered across his vision, once again reminding him of how guilty he should feel for thinking of you in this way. But damn, you were beginning to make it so difficult.

It was much easier when he was enamored with your distinct awkward laugh and goggle-like glasses. Or your dorky nature and sharp-witted arguments. That was you…not whatever these Oxford girls were trying to morph you into.

Felix felt like he had to do something, as he always did. Without waiting another moment, he took your wrist and pulled you to one of the quad’s exits, hoping the tunnel would provide a sort of privacy. On the way, you made your confusion very clear, whining and making desperate attempts to wrench away from his grip.

“Fucking hell, Felix. What was that for?” “Since when were you friends with India?” “She’s been really nice to me ever since last term. Why are you being so–” “You know she made fun of you all of the first term, right?”

The moment the words left Felix’s mouth, he found that he instantly regretted it, evident with the pained look on his face. In the moment, he justified himself, reassuring that it was just him warning one of his closest friends about a trampy backstabber. But deep down, he knew he was being selfish, desperately trying to find any way to get you to stay away from such filthy corruption. But was it for your sake or for his?

Your mildly irritated expression dropped into one of slight shock. He watched your neck muscles tense up as you struggled to swallow the lump in your throat. Truthfully, he had been expecting you to thank him profusely for the information, so it came as a surprise when your gaze hardened into a glare.

“And you’ve known this since when…?” “Really? I think that hardly matters when–” “Wait, weren’t you fucking her too?!”

The sound of your voice being raised was so foreign to him that it was jarring, so unlike you. It made him take a moment to reorient himself. Fully registering what you said, he could only think about how purposefully you avoided the point. He scooped up your hand into both of his, giving it a tight squeeze. “Swear I’m just looking out for you, okay? You don’t have to dress like them–”

“Oh my god, now you sound like my parents too. You don’t have a clue on what it’s like to want to fit in because you’re Felix fucking Catton!” Your words and profanities were grating on his ears, and he wished it would just stop. What had happened to the both of you? One term, you were quietly giggling together at the library, getting scolded by the librarians repeatedly. And now, you were yelling at him amidst a dozen onlookers, with a few that were basically eyefucking you. His nose wrinkled with disgust at his sleazy colleagues…he had to stop this.

“Please. You don’t have to act like this, not around me,” Felix begged as he gripped your shoulders. It broke him to see how quickly you wrenched yourself away. “Jesus, Felix! You’re not my dad, and you’re not my brother, nor my fucking boyfriend, so could you seriously just piss off?!” you hissed before stomping away, shoving through the gathering crowd that had begun ooh-ing and gossiping in response.

As the crowd began to close in on him, Felix solemnly watched as you stormed away. The very thing had been dreading the entire year was happening, and he felt powerless to stop it. These people were pressuring you, slowly corrupting everything that made you, you. His gentle, sincere tutor was slipping through his fingers like you were made of sand, and he couldn’t bear that thought.

Farleigh endlessly tried to reassure his dear cousin later that night at the dimly lit bar, loading Felix up with liquor in an attempt to get his mind off his “good girl gone bad”, as coined by him. Any hope of numbing the growing ache in his chest proved to be futile, no matter how greedily he downed each drink. Each time you popped up in his head, another shot. Your smile, another shot. The sound of your laughter rang in his ears, just like the night he had kissed you and foolishly left you. He wondered what it would’ve been like if he stayed. Another shot.

Once it had become evident to anyone that he was essentially trying to drink himself to death, the bartender finally cut him off. With unsteady legs and a heavy heart, he made the long trek back to his dorm with the help of Farleigh, albeit not without a few stumbles. He had begged his cousin to stay and not leave him alone with his thoughts, but the latter unfortunately had someone waiting for him back at his dorm.

The door shut, and Felix was alone. Collapsing onto his bed, he buried his face into his sheets and let out a muffled sob. It was indeed a disgusting sight to behold, an amalgamation of tears, snot, and drool collecting onto the bed as he twisted and turned. But he couldn’t help it; he knew he was never in control when it came to you. The girl who tutored him after lessons. His girl, at least you used to be his. He truly felt like he fucked up his chance ever to get you back.

And his heart panged each time the darkness of his dorm reminded him of how much he missed you, how empty he was without you. He missed the scent of your shampoo when he could catch you in the mornings, the smell of your sweat whenever you were too shy to take off your jumper. He especially missed your voice. Oh, your voice was heavenly. And by far the most efficient stress reliever. That was what he needed at that moment. To hear you, to let it envelop him whole, and maybe he could fall asleep. Sleep meant escaping your absence; he could perhaps dream about you.

Felix dialed your number and was quickly met with your voicemail message. ‘Hi! Sorry I can’t pick up right now…If it’s about tutoring, please email me! Otherwise…leave a message at the beep!’

Initially, he felt dreadful. Had you made up your mind about him? Were you finally content to leave him behind once you changed? He dialed again, and your voicemail was repeated. But as he stared up at the bright screen of his flip phone, he urged himself to relax. It was a Sunday night; you were definitely asleep, the scholar you were. He imagined you snug under your covers, blissfully unaware of his drunken attempts to call. And despite knowing this, despite the rational part of his mind begging for him to give up and simply just call in the morning, Felix couldn’t bring himself to stop ringing.

He found himself ringing over and over again just to hear your message. After a few listens, he chuckled to himself. He remembered when you made this voicemail. You asked him during a tutorial if you sounded “normal” before playing it for him. ‘What a silly question,’ he thought. It sounded perfect to him. You were perfect to him. He rang you again.

With each call, he desperately looked for something different to fixate on, bordering on madness. One call had him focused on how nervous your “hi” sounded; he always thought you tended to work yourself up over nothing. Another was dedicated to thinking about where you might’ve been recording it. It was quiet…was it the library? Or was it your dorm?

Then, a particular call had him notice the sound of your breaths between each word. He listened intently to how your breath hitched shortly after your polite little apology, then laughed at your sigh of annoyance after your instructions about tutoring. Most of your walks across campus together were consumed by you complaining about how people always called instead of emailing about tutorials. Of course, he never had to worry about that. You always reserved a slot just for him.

Strangely, Felix clung to each breath, each one barely audible. Ringing your number one last time, he laid the phone on his pillow, just beside his ear, and let it consume him. At first, he was content to let you lull him to sleep, his eyes fluttering shut. Then, the sound of your breath hitching played once again.

He hadn’t meant to do it, but a brief image of you flashed behind his eyelids, naked and laid out on display for him to savor. His hands roamed across your midriff, below your waist. A mere caress to your thighs would be enough for them to spread open; he had a feeling you would be obedient to him. Your lips parted upon feeling the gust of air hit your core, and it was then that your little gasp played in his mind. He never knew how desperately he wanted to hear your pretty little noises until then, and he wanted to be the reason why.

Felix suddenly noticed he was a bit cold. Snapping back to his senses, he only then realized that he had undone his trousers, haphazardly shoved down to his knees along with his boxers. It was embarrassing to see that he was already stiff and throbbing from a mere thought of you, with no girl to help this time.

He paused as he reached for his bottle of lotion on his bedside table. Was he really going to do this again, continually ruining the image of you? Especially after seeing what had become of you? He felt like a hypocrite if he were to continue, but it had been excruciatingly long since he had felt any sort of relief. Perhaps scratching the itch was what he needed to feel better. Besides, it was a mere fantasy, right? He felt like jerking off to you would be doing less harm to you in his head than the Oxford snobs you were hanging out with.

Shaking away his train of thought, he continued to pump the thick, silky cream onto his hand. He always needed a considerable amount; he was largely endowed after all. It wasn’t something he had really thought about, but his hookups would surely let him know. He wondered how you would react; he was sure your reaction would be priceless.

Felix redialed your number, eagerly listening to every single sound that escaped your throat so that he could burn them into his memory. Your inhales, your exhales, the pitch of your voice; it was all valuable to him. It was enough to create a script for you in his mind, one that had you whimpering under him as he gripped his shaft.

As he began to stroke up and down slowly, his head went slack as it fell back against his pillow, a mixture of garbled expletives and grunts leaving his lips. But never your name; he was too afraid to mutter it out loud. He was content to lay there and masturbate to the sound of your voice, but saying your name, out of all things, would make it all too real for him. It made him face the glaringly obvious fact that he intensely lusted for you; a sentiment against everything he loved about you.

You used to never care for your peers' thoughts; your academics didn’t allow for such trivial matters. You wore your Oxfam rentals with pride, subjecting you to endless teasing from the snobs that infested the campus. Life at uni should have given you every reason to hate someone like Felix. Despite this, you have been kind and trusting toward him since the very first revision. You reminded him of the tenderness the world still had, the good he was capable of. He felt responsible for shielding whatever could corrupt that.

He noticed the more he hung out with you, the more snarky comments dwindled. Whenever the moon loomed over both of you during the walk back to the dorms, he never let you out of sight until you were safely inside yours. Whenever your friends would skive on plans, you always called him for a “complimentary” tutorial. He knew it was always an excuse for some company, but it felt so good being needed by you.

And maybe that was why the word “please” from your voicemail made him stroke faster. Perhaps it was why he easily imagined you, face twisted in pleasure as he pounded your pussy, begging for him to cum inside you. He thought of your attire earlier in the day, how your top left nothing to the imagination, how they jostled around as he dragged you over to the tunnel to talk. You would be absolutely gorgeous, bouncing up and down on his cock. You would be perfect.

Soon enough, he discarded his phone to the side, having memorized every last bit of your message. It was pathetic how it was able to render him a sweaty and panting mess, desperately thrusting up into his hand as if it could ever compare to how your cunt would feel. How any of your holes would feel, really. The room began to tilt as he thought how he would fit perfectly inside of you, the thought of you cumming around his cock being the last thing he would remember that night.

Anything after that was a blur for Felix as he woke up. Trying his best to ignore the sharp migraine that tried to take over his thoughts, he tried his best to make sense of what had happened. His only pieces of evidence were his phone, opened and on the floor, and his semen drenching his knuckles and fingers. He winced as he recalled the utter depravity of the night prior. Just how many times had he called you?

He quickly washed his hands before reaching for his phone, furiously jamming the number pad as he navigated to the call logs. His jaw went slack at what he saw. He truly didn’t think he dialed you that many times, but that didn’t change the fact that there were 18 outgoing calls to you—and none from you—not even a text.

“Fuck!” Plastic and metal shattering rang in his ears as he hurled another phone into the wall. You were already pulling away from him, and he called you 18 times in the dead of night. He couldn’t blame you at all, it would scare him too.

But the girl he knew from the first term would have been more understanding. You would’ve at least texted or even returned the call. You never left him hanging, and you cared for him. You needed him. And it was becoming evident that it wasn’t the case anymore. The mere thought made him sick.

And just like any early morning after a night at the pub, Felix found himself sitting on the bathroom floor, curled over the toilet as he spewed out all of the poison from his body. As the turmoil in his stomach eased, he thought that maybe that was what he had to do with you. To purge you of the polluted garbage that those girls kept feeding you, to cleanse you and make you who you indeed were again.

Looking up at the mirror, he glared hard at his reflection, his steely gaze almost deadly as he wiped his mouth clean. You were wrong. You did need him, as much as you wanted to act like you didn’t. He would make you his perfect girl again to purify his feelings for you. He would be the one to save you.

a/n: hi! just wanted to say thank you for all the love on the first part! i've been struggling a bit to write but i truly do appreciate all the love you all have been giving me. i' ve decided to split the remainder of the story into two more parts. look out for part three soon! lots of smut, lots of angst, lots of felix! part one found here! inbox is open for any asks or reqs!

masterlist

put yourself on my taglist here! i noticed some of you signed up with no age in your blog. a reminder that AGELESS BLOGS will NOT be tagged!

@vannyangelxoxo @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @asthmaticcchoeee @raininhell @sewmxx @epsilonsagittarii @nowitsmissing @cookielovesbook-akie @hellokittyloverrxox

#kudos for this materpiece #really #felix catton #saltburn

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lilyrachelcassidy · 26 days

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3 notes on the post. we made it

I found this camera on the subway and look what was inside...

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lilyrachelcassidy · 27 days

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I love you I love you I love you. It would be so logical for them do kiss in the most vulnerable moments when you can just sorta “explain” thats a friendly kissing only.

WAITING FOR MORE, I dig it all

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 he angles his eyes meet yours. You swallow, chin raising a fraction of an inch. "Perfectly still."

He presses his lips lips together. There's something to the 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 find 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

#bestfriend!felix #bestfriend!felix x reader #felix catton x reader #felix catton

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lilyrachelcassidy · 1 month

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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 Felix, this is James."

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

#aaaaaaahhhh!#me instantly chucking away all my notebooks for studying #just to read this perfection #was a conscious decision #loooooovvveeee it #felix catton x reader #bestfriend!felix x reader

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lilyrachelcassidy · 1 month

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oh my god yes i'm very much interested in a drabble about my favourite besties kissing as besties do!!!!!!!!

the one that i really can't stop thinking about is the "i trust you more than anyone else" stuff like it's me and you against the world i'm such a sucker for that!! especially since felix is surrounded by people who wanna be close to him all the time and as easy going and open as he seems with anyone, it's of course on an entirely different level with reader

ugh the intimacy of it all makes me melt i love them😭😭

you get the vision!!

also had to start off a little angstier than usual bc the bestie kiss ™️ is only justifiable if both of them are upset enough to be more focused on being close than anything else, y'know

----

The taste lingers. The bitterness infects all it touches, poisoning you from the inside out as you down the drink that some guy pushed into your hand a few minutes ago.

A familiar warning briefly flashes to the front of your mind. Don't take drinks from strangers...especially not drinks that you didn't see them make. One of a hundred safety rules that you usually adhere to.

You've never really under the self destructive urge after drinking thing. Maybe it's just being tired. Maybe it's just this.

You wipe at your eyes with your palm, only remembering the products you had so carefully applied to your skin a few hours ago after the fact.

"Are you--" A familiar voice cuts through the music. You blink once, but it's not enough to force your eyes to adjust, so you try again. After screwing your eyes shut for a second, you can finally make out the person in front of you. Annabel. "You don't look like you're doing too good."

Your irritation has nothing to do with her, and yet seeing her standing there, effortlessly flawless with a slight edge that just fits here, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. But that's not her fault, so as stabiliy and politely as possible, you answer, "I'm...fine."

She regards you for a moment, eyebrows pinching together in uncertainty. "Why don't we find Felix, yeah?"

Why does everyone always assume that Felix is the solution to all of your problems? "I'm okay," you try again, voice a little more certain, "really."

Annabel still doesn't seem too convinced. She turns her head, scanning the crowded room. It doesn't take long for her to find Felix. It never does.

He's sitting on a loveseat that's been pushed towards the edge of the room. A few people are standing around him, a girl is sitting on the chair's arm, her legs swung over his lap.

"And he seems..." You force your face to remain neutral as your eyes finally land on him. "Busy."

Annabel looks back at you, her lips pressing together. Her expression only adds to your unease. "He wouldn't mind. It's you."

You shake your head, the motion adding to your slight nausea. Usually, you wouldn't think twice about sticking by Felix's side. Especially in this kind of setting, but after the words the two of you exchanged earlier, everything feels off its axis.

You're not used to fighting with Felix. It's such a foreign concept that the strange tension that had you walking away from him earlier probably doesn't even constitute an actual argument. But it's enough to make you feel out of place.

Swallowing once, you force yourself to focus on Annabel. "I think I just need some air." Annabel's still regarding you with uncertainty. "I'll be back in a minute, and if I feel sick or anything, I'll go get Felix." She doesn't move until someone calls her name. "Go. Have fun. I'll see you."

Annabel nods once, giving you a polite smile before leaving.

The door is near where Felix is sitting, which means there's no leaving without walking past him. There's enough of a crowd around him that him not noticing is a likely option, so you feel safe crossing the room.

You push your way through the room, eyes trained on the ground to help your balance. It's also a good excuse to not look at Felix as you reach the door.

There are stragglers--a group of girls chatting and giggling in front of the door, some guys doing shots, a girl in the middle of a phone call that looks painful.

You walk around the side of the house until you find an empty section of the sidewalk. The party feels far away here, even though the only thing dividing you is a few cars, a mailbox, and a streetlight. You sit and let yourself pretend that the bit of distance you've managed to create means something.

You could actually leave. Sure, this is a slightly off campus house party, but it's only a few blocks away from the street that'll take you to your dorm. You did walk here, but that was when you were focused, sober, and you had Felix with you.

But that's--you brought cash. You think. Maybe you should call a cab. It's not the worst idea. You drop your attention to the ground, instinctually searching for your purse.

Ugh. Your purse. Felix. You gave it to Felix.

Okay, you're still an independent person. This is probably for the best. It's never a good idea to leave a party without at least telling the person you came with, and this way it won't be a big deal. You'll ask for your purse so that you can call a cab. He probably won't even care.

You just need a minute to get it together. Then you'll be able to go back in, tap Felix on his shoulder, and get your purse. He won't even have to get that girl off his lap.

It is such a double standard. Felix completely forgetting about you is perfectly fine, but you talk to one person that isn't more Felix's friend than yours at one of these things and that must mean you're trying to replace him as a best friend.

Maybe you've been deluding yourself, convincing yourself that your friendship means more than it actually does. The thought makes it hard to breathe right.

"It's cold out."

Your palms press into asphalt as you snap your head to find the source of the sound. Felix. A lump wedges itself in your throat. "I'm fine." He takes a step forward. "I just wanted some air."

You turn your head, forcing yourself to stare ahead. Soft footsteps, the crunching of asphalt echoes, somehow sharper than the music coming from the house. Felix sits.

He's farther than he usually is.

You lift your hands, taking your time brushing your fingers against your palms to get rid of the debris that indented itself into your skin. "You um--you have my purse, right?" You fold your hands against your lap. "I need my phone. I--I need to call a taxi."

"What?" His voice doesn't come out angry, but there's a flatness there that burrows deep into the pit of your stomach. It almost feels disappointed. "Why?"

You squeeze your hands together, "I want to go home." You still can't look at him. "I want to go back to my room." Your voice starts to crack on the last word. Nails instinctually dig into your knee.

Felix sighs, angling himself towards you, "You don't have to do that." His voice is soft, cautious. "If you want to leave, I'll take you."

"No," you shake your head once, attention still focused forward to keep him from noticing the fact that your eyes are now watering. All of this feels so dumb, so small. Why are you almost crying? "It's okay, you're having fun, I can get back by myself."

He lets out another breath, moving his arm so that his hand sits between both of you. "You're drunk."

"So are you."

A beat of silence that feels like an attempt at admitting that he's more than just drunk. You saw Tyler--or Trevor, or maybe Timothy--wandering the halls. Some guy whose name you can never remember because he only shows up at the end of nights, when you're too out of it to do much more than just be happy. He's known for carrying--and sharing--harder stuff.

Not that you'd know. There's nowhere that Felix won't take you, nothing that he keeps from you. That's part of the beauty of your friendship, the lack of judgement. But Felix isn't fond of you participating in everything all the time.

If you ever show interest in anything on a night that Felix isn't feeling too sure about, he'll offer to get you whatever you want later, when it's just the two of you. Maybe you'd mind his concern if you cared about getting high more.

You can feel Felix's stare, the weight of his full attention. "You don't actually think I'm going to let you go anywhere alone, after drinking, in the middle of the night."

There's a patience there that makes it hard to sit still. You turn your head, finally looking at him, "I'm fine. I can--" You cut yourself off with a slight sniffle.

You wipe at your face with the side of your palm. Felix's eyebrows are pinched together. You don't know what to make of the way he's watching you. Felix lifts his hand, fingers finding their way against your jaw before you can move. "You're upset."

Pressing your lips together, you try to force yourself to look as neutral as possible. "I'm fine." He doesn't move. "You should go back to your party, Felix."

"The party?" His expression briefly contorts in confusion. "I don't care about the party." Your vision is starting to blur. "There are other parties. You're crying." Felix shifts his hand up your face, his thumb brushing against the apple of your cheek.

You try to take a stabilizing breath, "It's not a big deal." You will yourself to move, to rely on him less. "I don't think I'm going to be any fun tonight, you should go, and I--I'll talk you tomorrow."

He frowns. "You don't have to be any fun." Felix shouldn't have to coddle you. Embarrassment and guilt further knot your stomach. "If you want to sit here, we can sit here. If you want to go inside, we can go inside. If you want to go home, we'll go home."

"Earlier," you manage, focusing on keeping your voice as even as possible, "When we--" Tears pool in your eyes, something at the back of your throat constricts. "I didn't--I don't know--"

You're not making sense, forcing out fragments of thoughts that don't work together. Felix seems to understand anyway, his thumb grazing against your cheek. "We don't have to talk about that now." You nod slowly. "If you still want to go home, let me take you."

You attempt a full breath, "But what ab--"

He tilts his head in a way that makes it feel like he's telling you a secret, "If you ask about the party again, I'm calling you delusional."

You roll your eyes. It's a relatively lame threat, but it serves its purpose. The corner of your mouth tugs itself upwards, your lips pressed together to hold in a partial laugh. "Okay."

Felix's hand slips from the side of your face and finds a new place against your shoulder. "Yeah? Let's go then."

He stands first and then extends an arm to help you. His stability makes it easier.

There is no laughter or pausing on sidewalks to try to hold onto each other. The two of you are quiet, but Felix does keep your fingers intertwined the entire way back to his dorm.

You don't think to question where he's taking you until you're in his room. "Felix." The walk had been good for you, the fresh air and time to gather your thoughts providing enough of a reprieve for you to get it together. "I want to go to sleep."

"Yeah," he mumbles, "I know, I'll get you your favorite shirt."

Your eyes focus on the ground. "I think I should sleep in my room tonight."

Felix sighs, turning away from the door. "You're trying to leave again."

The accusation only half makes sense, but there's a quietness to his voice that gets to you. All the nervous, alcohol fueled energy is coming back with a vengeance. "When have I ever left you?"

Felix scoffs, the sound bitter. "You left me tonight." If his voice was any less raspy, any less urging, you likely would have laughed. He's the one that got mad at you. "You just--you walked away from me. Like I didn't even matter to you."

The a thinly veiled sadness there that almost feels nervous. He can't meet your gaze. The pride encouraging you to stand still bleeds from you. Without its heat, its fire, there's not much keeping you stable.

You move forward, footsteps cautious. "Felix." You stretch a hand forward, fingers brushing against his forearm. He doesn't move. "Of course you matter to me. So much." Your fingers bend around his wrist. "You're my best friend."

He turns his arm. Your body tenses, preparing for his rejection. Felix's hand squeezes yours. There's a tension in his hold, but you embrace it all the same. "You walked away from me."

You take another step towards him, freehand finding his arm. "That's why." He sets a hand against you waist. The contact is firm, unforgiving. There's still hurt, but the only thing more unthinkable than holding on is letting go. "What you say means so much to me, because you're my best friend." His fingers press into your side. "And you were upset--and there were so many people--" Tears prick the corner of your eyes. "And I couldn't do that there."

"No." He squeezes your hand. "No, don't--don't cry, we're okay." As if to prove his point, Felix pulls you closer. The movement's too sudden for you to keep your balance on your own. You tighten your hold on Felix's arm. "Still my best girl, yeah?"

This is nowhere near the closest you've ever been to him. He has a hand on your hip, but that's far from the touchiest he's ever been. It shouldn't--he shouldn't be this distracting. It takes you a second too long to remember to nod.

He angles his head downwards, his cheek finding a place against your shoulder. Felix's breath is warm against your neck. "Wouldn't leave me."

You nod, moving your hand to rest against his back. Felix relaxes against you. It's not easy to stay stable with the alcohol still in your system and Felix's weight on you, but you manage.

"No." You mean it so much it almost hurts to get out. You'd never walk away from him. There's nothing like your bond with Felix. You could talk to him, be around him forever without feeling drained. "Of course not."

Felix turns his head, brushing his lips against your neck. "Stay over, then?" The question is soft, fragile. It'd be smart to create distance. If tonight's proven anything, it's that you're too attached to him. "Please?"

You smooth your knuckles against his spine. "Okay." He presses a kiss against your shoulder. "Yeah. I'll stay."

He hugs you even tighter. "No more tears, alright?"

You squeeze him back. "Alright."

For awhile, the two of you stay like that. There's nothing left to say, and that still manages to be comfortable. Silence is never uncomfortable with Felix.

He eventually shifts to place a kiss against the side of your neck. "We should get ready for bed."

You hum once in agreement. Neither of you move. Things are simple when you factor out the rest of the world. Things are easy when it's just you and Felix.

An overwhelming wave of fondness brings you back. As gently as possible, you start the process of untangling limbs. Felix pouts at you, expression drowsier than before.

Your fingers carefully brush his hair out of his face. "I need to change."

Felix fully straightens. His hand finds the back of your head. He pulls you towards him, pressing a kiss against your forehead. "Okay."

He lets go of you before walking towards his dresser. Felix opens the top drawer and finds your usual sleep shirt. You take it before entering his bathroom.

Going out outfits are cute, but there's something about the moment you get home that immediately forces every ounce of discomfort to hit all at once. You shed the restrictive layers before pulling Felix's T-shirt over your head.

You swear there's some kind of rich guy secret to keeping clothes this soft. A combination of fabric, fancy detergent, and some third thing that's reserved for those in the know.

You turn on the sink, ready to wash what's left of the night off of your face. Felix has never gotten rid of or moved anything you've left in here. What's left of your buzz has you more emotional than usual, making the evidence of your life in his space heavier than it should be.

The feeling is good and bad all at once. Your attachment to Felix is the kind of thing that can only come from fully understanding someone. But there's an inherent danger in knowing someone like that, carrying about them like that. Especially Felix, who has everyone so he doesn't need anyone.

You splash some more water onto your face, attempting to shake off any lingering angst. You don't want to dissect your friendship until it eventually falls apart into nothingness.

When you finally step back into his room, Felix is sitting on his bed, back pressed against the wall. He's managed to change into pajama pants, but seems to be struggling with everything else. His shirt's half unbuttoned, and his fingers are actively working at undoing the rest of them. Felix's movements are slow and clumsy as he tugs on the fabric.

Wow. Maybe you were right to think he was high. "Hey." He looks up at you, hands still attempting to pull apart his shirt. There's something endearing about the clumsiness. He drops his head back down to refocus."Do you--uh--do you need help?"

He angles his head to one side, a smile playing at his lips. "Are you asking to undress me?"

Heat burns through your chest, leaving you hollow. You approach his dresser, leaving your neatly folded outfit on the wooden surface. "Figure out your own shirt."

"No," his sigh is light, almost a laugh, "'M kidding." Your glare only seems to add to his easygoing mood. He smiles, dropping a hand to pat the space next to him. "Come here."

You give in with a sigh, crossing the room and sitting at the foot of his bed. He reaches forward, briefly squeezing your shoulder before returning to work on his shirt. It's hard to watch him stumble through undoing a single button, just to have to start the process all over again.

You pull your legs onto the bed, turning to fully face him. Your knee is pressed against his thigh.

"Lovie," he hums, as if your presence is some kind of revelation.

"Felix." He grins, hands releasing his shirt in favor of trying to grasp your arm. "Wait--" His fingers wrap around your wrist. "I'm--trying--" He pulls your hand towards him, placing a kiss against your knuckles. You laugh. "I'm trying to help you."

He tugs on your arm. His pull isn't harsh, but the unexpectedness of it paired with your buzz makes it enough to throw off your balance. Your freehand presses against the mattress in an attempt to stabilize yourself. Felix laughs, tugging on you again.

Fighting your own fit of giggles, you instinctually push yourself onto your knees in an attempt to regain some control. Felix gives you a second to find your footing. You gently pull his hand off of your forearm and set it on his lap. He frowns.

You extend your arms, placing your hands on his shoulders. Part of the reason for it is to help keep you stable, the rest of it is to keep him focused. He looks up at you, eyes pools of hesitant affection. "Stay still."

He lets you reach for his shirt. "Y'don't have to, I'm okay."

Shrugging, you continue to work at unclasping his buttons. "It's okay, I like helping you."

You unbutton the few buttons that are left. "Better?" Felix nods. "I'll get you a pajama shirt."

Before you can get far, Felix grabs your hand. "We're..." He focuses on bending and straightening your fingers. "Good, right?"

There's something soft about the question, almost shy. "Yeah." He turns over your palm, tracing the lines etched into your skin. "Of course we're good." You adjust, crossing your legs beneath you to sit down.

"Honestly, I was thinking about it, and part of the reason I was upset is because..." This is harder to admit than you thought it'd be. "You seemed really okay without me, and that--I don't know. It's dumb, because I really do want you to be happy, but it made me feel a little replaceable, I guess."

"What?"

You sigh, dropping your attention to your intertwined hands. "I know, I said it was dumb." You pause, eyes darting up to look at him. His expression isn't judgmental or like he needs space. You can't fully read his expression, but nothing about the way he's looking at you feels unkind. "I only mentioned it to be honest, I don't like the idea of keeping se--"

He pulls on your arm again, this time his hold a little firmer. You're closer now. Felix's other hand finds your hip, anchoring you in place. You're too confused to do anything but blink at him.

Felix lets go of your arm, fingers finding their way beneath your chin. He angles your head so that all of your attention is on him. Your lips part, a half thought out question is on the tip of your tongue when Felix leans towards you. His lips meet yours.

You're still, shock and something a lot more electric rendering you in capable of anything else. This isn't the first time Felix has pressed his lips against yours. He's affectionate, especially when drinking is involved. He'll brush his lips against yours after taking a shot together, or just because at the end of a long night. It's not an everyday thing, but it's happened from time to time.

This--this isn't that. He's lingering, lips parting so that his teeth can graze against your bottom lip. Felix pulls away just enough to look you in the eye. His thumb brushes across your cheek.

"You're my best friend." Felix's words are so urging, so pleading you nod before you can think. "Best mate. You're the--the only one that gets me. Really gets me." His hand moves to the back of your head, pulling you back to him.

Any sense of hesitance vanishes the second time he kisses you. He's all consuming, lips dragging against yours with a desperate patience that's dizzying. It's disorientating, the desire to be that much closer to someone when there's no way to get there.

Felix's hand finds your back. He pushes you towards him. There's no good way to oblige. You try anyway, shifting your weight back onto your knees. Felix pulls you forward by your waist. You're too focused on him to realize what's happening until you're on his lap.

He takes his time letting you go, teeth tugging on your bottom lip. "I trust you more than anyone." Felix leans back in, placing a quick kiss against your lips. "You're not replaceable." He squeezes your shoulder. "You know that, right?"

Still breathless, you nod. He's watching you with so much patience, so much care it's almost hard to bare.

His thumb smooths circles against your shoulder. "Let's go to bed, yeah?"

You lift his hand off your thigh to press a kiss against the back of his palm. "Yeah, lets go to bed."

He squeezes your shoulder once before letting you go. You move off of his lap carefully.

Felix sits up enough to push his shirt off of his shoulders. Your eyes instinctually fall to his sheets. "Do you want me to get you a shirt?"

"Why? Distracted?"

You roll your eyes in an attempt to the fact that you are struggling to look at him. "Shut up."

He grins as he pulls back his sheets. "M'okay." You take the opportunity to slip beneath the layers of fabric. Felix waits until you're settled to crawl beneath the sheets. "It's warm enough, even with you stealing my blankets."

"I do not," the sentence is more of a mock gasp than anything else. Felix shifts onto his side before collapsing his weight on you. "Felix."

"What?" He rests his cheek against your chest. "This is the only way to keep you from taking my sheets."

You sigh, feigning annoyance as your fingers find his hair. "Rude. I'm a great bed sharer."

Felix lets out a partial laugh against the side of your neck. His hand finds your hip. "You are pretty great."

Your hand trails down towards his back, nails grazing against the bare skin. "You are, too."

Silence stretches between the two of you for so long you assume that he's already fallen asleep. Felix has a talent for drifting off in the blink of an eye.

"Lovie?" He whispers the term so lowly you almost convince yourself the sound is a figment of your imagination.

"Yeah?"

You can feel the shift in his breathing. "It's you and me--just you and me, when it comes down to it." His thumb brushes up and down your side. "You know that."

He relaxes as your fingers trail down the start of his spine. "Yeah. Of course I know that." A part of you feels naive for believing his words so easily. He's too adored to just be your Felix at the end of the day, and yet-- "Just you and me."

Felix leaves an open mouthed kiss against collarbone. It's the kind of warm that leaves goosebumps breaking out everywhere the contact can't be felt. "Good."

----

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

#I love this too much #help

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lilyrachelcassidy · 1 month

Note

4 for the prompts! with felix??? thanks!

Thanks nonny! Would love more Felix requests if you have any up your sleeve 😍

"Not what I came for."

───※ ·❆· ※───

He tried to get you to come home with him for the summer.

But you'd watched this cycle from afar, across campus. You'd watch Felix charm people closer into his orbit. And they would flock toward him like flies to sticky paper. Felix ate it up every time. And then he'd get bored. And a new summer would roll in, and Felix would parade around a new placeholder for a handful of months.

"I'm not particularly interested in a fling, lover boy." You half joked. The people Jacob attached too every summer weren't always romantically linked. But regardless of intentions, you rose your point.

"Is that what you think of me really?" Felix held a hand to his chest in appallment.

"Not entirely. I am just as infatuated with you as everyone else. I just don't want to be buttered up to be abandoned when winter comes you know?" You sat across from Felix, not taking for granted how he leaned in to listen to you speak. There was no use in fighting off how entranced he'd been with you. There was no fighting the way Felix trailed beside you this semester. You were his next victim. And you'd let it last as long as the school year played out. But you knew better than to follow him home.

"Then I've got a challenge ahead of me. How can I prove that I'm determined to spend longer than a summer with you, love?" Felix flicked out a wrist, letting his long fingers fall to your face and rest on your cheek.

You smiled despite your hard stance. You shrugged because you really didn't have an answer. You let him go on persuading you a while longer to join him at Saltburn. Then you insisted he head back to his own dorm, it was getting late.

The rest of that month, each day ticked by with anticipation of summer break approaching. Felix asked once in a while if you'd reconsider his offer. He droned on about how he'd miss you. He'd mentioned wanting you to meet his family. He even begged once. You stuck out a sorry lip, pouting a decline. It just wasn't going to happen. If Felix liked you as much as he said he did, he'd come running back to campus, more tan, less educated, and just as enamored with you. If he did, you'd be delighted. If he didn't, you'd be assured you'd decided correctly to stay away for the summer.

When the day came for Felix to pack up and head home, he didn't ask you along. He didn't say much of anything at all. You'd never seen him so desolate, so unpersuasive. He flung his arms around your shoulders for a hug that he wouldn't let go from for a long time. Neither of you spoke. Neither of you said goodbye.

And then the days felt empty. You'd made plans and enjoyed the sun and filled your days with fun best you could. Not one passed without thoughts of Felix in mind, though. You wondered how he'd been doing, what he'd been up too, if he was thinking about you even half as much as he said he would.

You even turned down a new date, feeling a little ray of hope left that Felix would come running back to you once the new semester started.

Each second of those free as can be days passed by excruciatingly. You were kidding yourself when you tried to pretend you didn't miss him. You were frustrated when you realized he'd become your favorite ear to talk off, favorite set of eyes to look for across the halls. You told yourself to stop caring when you glanced at your calendar and saw too many days left to pass before summer was over.

And then there was a knock on your dorm room door.

Felix had returned, cutting his break short. He didn't even unpack the bags he'd taken home. He headed right to your door and hoped you'd still open it with a smile like before. And when you did, he flung himself toward you in an embrace you hadn't expected.

"Back so soon? Missed the lunch hall food that much?" You joked, hugging Felix back in utter shock and awe.

"Not what I came here for." Felix cooed, clinging to you with all his might. "Told you I'd miss you. I didn't just want to bring you home for the summer. I wanted you."

"And I believe you now." You beamed, relishing the way his hands stayed clutching your sides. Stunned by the way Felix was looking at you now, with a desperation in those eyes you didn't have to miss any longer. You couldn't believe Felix broke his cycle. He went home without a companion, and he came back here much sooner than you knew he always used to. Felix broke his cycle for you. You broke his cycle.

"Let's make up for lost time, yeah?" You grinned, insisting he leave his bags on the floor and follow your every lead. As Felix bended to your will, you asked what his plans for next summer were. He told you to start making them. It was his turn to be strung along. And it was your turn to watch as Felix wrapped himself right around your finger.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#love love love love #etc #Saltburn #rec!!!

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lilyrachelcassidy · 1 month

Note

The cuteness of this little scene is making my heart bop. Literally what the heck, so sweet… overprotectiveFelix here y’all-

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."

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