#chandler bing x reader

[romanoffshouse]

No one else could've played Chandler Bing. Thank you for making us laugh and always putting a smile on our faces.

We will miss you and you will always be remembered.

Rest in peace, Matthew Perry ❤

[ellswritings]

New Years Eve

Chandler Bing x Reader

TW: Janice lol

»»————-　⚜　————-««

     "So you want to do a no date pact?" (Y/N) asks with doubtful look on her face.

"Yes." Chandler nods aggressively. "No dates. Just us seven."

"You really think you can pull that off?" (Y/N) quips again, not believing Chandler will be able to go through with his proposition.

"Okay, you know what, (Y/N)," Chandler begins slightly aggressive. "I don't need your negative comments, alright? Now who's with me? I say this year, no dates, we make a pact. Just the seven of us. Dinner." He tries his hardest to make it sound appealing.

The rest of the group mumbles in agreement, not truly that interested in his idea. Chandler scoffs, "You know, I was hoping for a little more enthusiasm." He looks at them slightly offended.

Everyone sarcastically begins cheering louder to please his ego. He smiles gratefully and (Y/N) can't help but shake her head in amusement as she takes a sip of her coffee. She doesn't think this pact will last more than a day. Maybe less.

Especially with how things seem to be going for Phoebe and the guy she called out while singing onstage. She smirks and leans back to look up at Chandler, "Still think this whole no date pact thing is gonna work?"

"Oh shut up." He grumbles.

"Hey, that guys going home with more than a note." Joey chimes in, clearly impressed with Phoebe.

(Y/N) snorts out a laugh and sends Chandler a sarcastic thumbs up. The man simply rolls his eyes and goes to sit on the other side of the couch, farthest away from (Y/N).

             »»————-　⚜　————-««

     About two hours later, (Y/N), Rachel, Monica, Ross, Chandler, and Phoebe all sit in Monica's apartment decorating the tree to make it look more festive for the party. (Y/N) and Chandler begin to detangle the golden tinsel as Rachel looks back at Phoebe.

"Pheebs, I can't believe he hasn't kissed you yet. I mean God, by my sixth date with Paolo, I mean he had already named both my breasts!" Rachel laughs lightly until she realizes what she just said. She pauses, "Ooh. Did I just share too much?"

Ross scrunches his eyebrows, "Just a smidge."

"David's like, y'know, Scientist Guy. He's very methodical." Phoebe explains.

"Well, I think it's romantic." (Y/N) smiles.

Monica nods in agreement as Phoebe begins to light up with excitement, "Me too! Oh! Did you ever see An Officer and a Gentleman?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he's kinda like the guy I went to see that with. Except, except he-he's smarter, and gentler, and sweeter... I just- I just wanna be with him all the time. Day and night, and night and day... and special occasions..." She begins to trail off, giving a not so discreet side eye to Chandler.

The man throws his hands up, "Wait a minute, wait a minute, I see where this is going, you're gonna ask him to New Year's, aren't you? You're gonna break the pact. She's gonna break the pact." He announces, looking around at everyone.

Phoebe gasps, "No, no, no, no, no, no." She says getting on her knees on top of the couch. She looks at all of her friends and then gives in. "Yeah, could I just?"

They all collectively gasp, everyone besides seemingly Chandler. (Y/N) looks at him accusatorially as he nods his head to the side, "Yeah, 'cause I already asked Janice."

(Y/N) furrows her eyebrows, not expecting Janice the be the one he ended up asking. While she does feel an extreme sense of bragging coming on for her calling that the no date pact wasn't going to work, this new revelation almost made bragging not worth it.

"What?!" Monica asks, has agape.

"C'mon, this was a pact! This was your pact!" Ross says incredulously.

Chandler shrugs, "I snapped, okay? I couldn't handle the pressure and I snapped."

"Yeah, but Janice?" (Y/N) raises an eyebrow. "That was like the worst breakup in history!"

"I'm not saying it was a good idea, I'm saying I snapped!" Chandler defends.

"Clearly." (Y/N) mutters irritatedly.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Chandler asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Nothing." She replies quietly.

Suddenly the door flies open to reveal an elf Joey with shoes that jingle as he walks. Everyone stares at the man, mouth wide. (Y/N) gasps and begins to cackle as Chandler smirks.

"Hi. Hi, sorry I'm late."

"Too many jokes... must mock Joey!" Chandler exclaims happily.

"Nice shoes, huh? " Joey asks as he wiggles his foot, making the bells jingle once more.

(Y/N) can't believe what she's watching, "You're killing me." She continues laughing.

Rachel looks in between (Y/N) and Chandler, "It's like having two of you." She says to Chandler.

Marcel, Ross's monkey jumps over into the kitchen and knocks over multiple kitchen appliances. Monica looks at her brother exasperatedly, "Ross! He's playing with my spatulas again!"

"Okay, look, he's not gonna hurt them, right?" Ross counters, defending his monkey.

"Do you always have to bring him here?"

"I didn't wanna leave him alone. Alright? We- we had our first fight this morning. I think it has to do with my working late. I said some things that I didn't mean, and he- he threw some feces..." Ross explains upset, making (Y/N) have to hold in her laughter again. She loves the chaos her friends  emanate.

"Y'know, if you're gonna work late, I could look in on him for you." Chandler offers.

(Y/N) scoffs, "Chandler taking care of something. Never thought I'd live to see the day." She smirks playfully.

"You're on one today, you know that?" He quips back.

(Y/N) shrugs happily, satisfied to know she successfully got under Chandler's skin.

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

     "So tell me something. What does the phrase 'no date pact' mean to you?" Ross asks harshly to Monica, who just revealed she got a date for the party.

"I'm sorry, okay. It's just that Chandler has somebody, and Phoebe has somebody- I thought I'd ask Fun Bobby." Monica explains gently to her brother as she takes a seat on the couch.

"Fun Bobby? Your ex-boyfriend Fun Bobby?" Chandler tilts his head.

"Yeah." She confirms.

(Y/N) looks at Chandler, "You know more than one Fun Bobby?"

"I happen to know a Fun Bob." Chandler justifies.

Rachel comes up from behind them all with a mug of coffee for Joey, "Okay, here we go..."

"Ooh ooh ooh ooh, there's no room for milk!" He complains.

Rachel glances at Joey and then at his coffee. She leans down and takes a large sip from the top. "There. Now there is." She shrugs.

"Okay, so on our no-date evening, three of you now have dates." Ross looks in between all of them, still upset about it.

"Uh, four." Joey adds.

"Four." Ross deflates.

"Five." Rachel chimes in.

"Five." Ross hides his head in his hands.

"Six." (Y/N) raises her hand. Taking a sip from Chandler's cup.

"Hey!" Chandler exclaims.

Truthfully, Chandler didn't mind (Y/N) taking a sip of his coffee. He found it slightly endearing. He actually really enjoyed her company due to the fact that both of them happen to be extremely sarcastic.

The brunette man furrows his eyebrows, just now processing what (Y/N) revealed. He pauses, "Wait, you have a date?" He asks her.

"Yes Mr. Bing." (Y/N) responds sarcastically. "Try to hide your shock please." She rolls her eyes.

"I-I didn't meant it like that. I was just interested in hearing you had a date considering two weeks ago you said you didn't plan on dating for awhile." He says, sipping his coffee awkwardly.

(Y/N) tilts her head, "Since when do you pay this close attention to what I say?"

Chandler shrugs, "I don't know..." He mumbles.

"I just can't believe everyone has a date but me." Ross leans back in his chair, crossing his arms to pout.

"Sorry. Paolo's catching an earlier flight."

"Yeah, and I met this really hot single mom at the store. What's an elf to do?" Joey shrugs.

"Yeah, and I met a cute guy at the grocery store when I was shopping for stuff to make my cheesecake." (Y/N) tells him sympathetically.

Ross looks up, "Is it your Oreo one?"

"Yes Ross." (Y/N) smiles.

"You're forgiven." He nods. "But the rest of you are not."

"Oh, c'mon. We'll have, we'll have a big party, and no-one'll know who's with who." Rachel tries to comfort him.

"Yeah, well I'll know. Hey, y'know, this is so not what I needed right now." Ross shakes his head.

"What's the matter?" Monica looks at him concerned.

"Oh, it's-it's Marcel. He's angry with me again. I have no idea why. He keeps shutting me out, y'know? He's walking around all the time dragging his hands..."

"That's so weird, I had such a blast with him the other night." Chandler says, moving his arm behind (Y/N), lightly touching her back. She furrows her eyebrows, but doesn't say anything.

"Really?" Ross looks at him, hurt evident on his face.

"Yeah, we played, we watched TV.. that juggling thing is amazing."

"What juggling thing?" Ross asks as his body begins to sag sadly.

"With the balled-up socks?" Chandler tells him. "I figured you taught him that."

"No." Ross frowns.

Chandler goes to continue once more, but (Y/N) puts her hand on his, "Just stop. You're making it worse." She whispers.

"Noted." He nods, keeping his mouth shut. He leans down to whisper since Phoebe's boyfriends friend walked in. "You know, you never told me what the name of your date was."

"You didn't ask." (Y/N) responds.

"Well, now I'm asking." He looks down at her, his eyes never leaving her figure.

"Well, if you're really that curious, his name is Wren." She whispers back to him.

He looks at her with a scrunched up face, "What the hell kind of a name is Wren?"

"A model name apparently." She responds smugly, taking his coffee from his hands, sipping it once more.

"He's a model?" Chandler looks at her, suddenly losing all confidence.

"Yeah. I figured he could give Joey some good contacts too. So, it's a win-win." She smiles, not noticing Chandler's change in demeanor.

"Yeah." He says grouchily. "Win-win."

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

     (Y/N) walks into Monica's apartment, she smiles at all of her friends as the part is in full swing. She watches as everyone begins to mingle and she makes her way over to the snack table. She places her Oreo cheesecake on the table and grabs her own plate, getting some of Rachel's artichoke dip in the process.

Before she could escape, Chandler and his date Janice come up to the table and the latter gets a big scoop of the same dip (Y/N) just got. "I love this artichoke thing!" She says boisterously and does her signature Janice laugh, making (Y/N)'s eyes go wide.

"(Y/N), you remember Janice." Chandler gives her a fake smile, clearly already annoyed with his date.

"Vividly." She replies with an even faker smile. "How are you?"

"Oh, I am fantastic! Now, you know what's totally amazing? It's just like we have been back together for...like what...like 10 minutes. And-"

"Is that all?" Chandler interrupts, making (Y/N) smirk.

"it's just like we were never apart.   Y'know I mean. Of course, we were... but forgive and forget. Well...forget." She laughs once more when a knock sounds at the door.

(Y/N) nods, and her eyes follow after Monica, begging to be saved. "Well Janice, lovely seeing you again, but Monica needs help... opening the door. So, catch you guys later." She rushes out and follows after her raven-haired friend.

Chandler watches as (Y/N) walks away, his eyes slowly looking over her body. He didn't really notice until now, but she looked absolutely stunning. The dress she was wearing fit her body perfectly. It hugged her in all the right places.

"Oh honey," Janice starts. "You've got a little drool on your chin." She laughs, wiping it off for him.

(Y/N) approaches Monica and a very disheveled Rachel.  She gasps at the sigh of her friend and the bruises that decorate her face. "Oh my gosh! Rachel, honey.. are you okay? Where-where's Paolo?" She asks as her and Monica pull her inside the apartment.

"Rome. Jerk missed his flight." She scoffs angrily.

"And then... your face is bloated?" Phoebe looks at her concerned.

"No. Okay. I was at the airport, getting into a cab, when this woman- this blonde planet with a pocketbook- starts yelling at me. Something about how it was her cab first. And then the next thing I know she just starts- starts pulling me out by my hair! So I'm blowing my attack whistle thingy and three more cabs show up, and as I'm going to get into a cab she tackles me. And I hit my head on the curb and cut my lip on my whistle." She stops and looks around, noticing everyone staring at her. "Oh, everybody having fun at the party?" She leans over to (Y/N) and Monica, "Are people eating my dip?"

(Y/N) and Monica nod as the (h/c) haired girl shows her the plate she has in her hand. Rachel smiles gratefully as Phoebe grabs Rachel's hand and escorts her into her room. (Y/N) huffs and goes over to sit next to Ross and Chandler who both seem to be sulking in the corner.

"What are you boys doing?" She asks with a glass of wine in her hand, sitting right next to Chandler.

"Hiding from Janice." Chandler whispers, peeking around the corner. "I haven't had a moment to breathe since I've been here."

"What did you expect?" (Y/N) chuckles. "It's Janice."

"Yeah." He huffs out, leaning his head against (Y/N)'s arm. She places her hand on his head, playing with his hair mindlessly. Chandler's eyes close as he enjoys the sensation of (Y/N)'s hands in his hair.

The two sit like that for a moment, just enjoying each others company. (Y/N) looks up from Chandler and notices Ross staring longingly at his monkey who seems to be ignoring him.

"You doing okay Ross?" She asks genuinely.

Ross sighs, "Look at him. I'm not saying he has to spend the whole evening with me, but at least check in." He pouts.

Before (Y/N) could respond a loud voice rings out, causing her and true two men to jump. "There you are! Haaah, you got away from me!" She says to Chandler, waking him from his almost peaceful slumber. Janice practically sits on his lap, making him look at her grumpily.

"But you found me!" He imitates her.

Janice looks over at (Y/N) and hands her a camera, "Here, (Y/N) , take our picture." (Y/N) reluctantly takes the camera and begins to snap photos. "Smile! You're on Janice Camera!"

"Kill me. Kill me now." Chandler looks at (Y/N) with pleading eyes.

The woman smiles and sends him a playful wink as she snaps another photo of the couple. "Keep smiling Chandler, you're on Janice camera." She says mockingly.

Another knock sounds through the house and Monica goes to look through the peephole. She smiles excitedly, "Hey everybody! It's Fun Bobby!"

Everyone cheers loudly as Monica opens the door. She goes to greet him cheerily but quickly notes the depressed look on his face. "Hey, sorry I'm late. But my, uh, grandfather, he- died about two hours ago. But I-I-I couldn't get a flight out 'til tomorrow, so here I am!"

Fun Bobby goes towards the couch and begins to talk about his grandfathers funeral. Janice grabs (Y/N)'a attention once more, forcing her to take more photos of her and Chandler.

(Y/N) dejectedly turns back around and comes face to face with Janice kissing Chandler. (Y/N) clenches her jaw jealously as she aggressively snaps a photo of the two kissing. Chandler notices (Y/N)'s posture become much more tense. He pulls away and sends (Y/N) a curious look.

"Oh, I'm gonna blow this one up, and I'm gonna write Reunited in glitter." Janice exclaims happily as she continues to try and maul Chandler's face.

(Y/N) scoffs under her breath and shakes her head. She goes to turn around but Chandler's voice stops her. "Alright, Janice, that's it! Janice... Janice... Hey, Janice, when I invited you to this party I didn't necessarily think that it meant that we-" He gestures between the two of them.

"Oh no. Oh no." The woman puts her hand up, tears forming in her eyes.

"I'm sorry you misunderstood..." Chandler trails off.

(Y/N) can't help but feel happy at the scene unfolding in front of her. She really did hate seeing Chandler with Janice. Or any female for that matter. Little did she know was that Chandler felt the exact same.

"Oh my God. You listen to me, Chandler, you listen to me. One of these times is just gonna be your last chance with me." Janice exclaims as she storms off.

(Y/N), not able to help herself, snaps a photo of Chandler being left on the spot. The man rolls his eyes, "Oh, will you give me the thing." He snatches the camera from her hands making her giggle at his irritation.

"So grouchy." (Y/N) teases as she begins to walk back over to the snack table, Chandler in tow.

"I know this sounds terrible," He starts. "But I am so happy she left." He breathes out relieved.

"You and me both." (Y/N) laughs. "I'm sorry, but her laugh drives me insane."

"You're not the only one." He answers with wide eyes.

"Hey, but at least she's gone now." (Y/N) smiles optimistically.

"And so is my chances of getting a kiss at midnight." He huffs, leaning back in his chair.

(Y/N) shakes her head at him, "Is that really all you're worried about?"

"Yeah, aren't you?" He queries. "Speaking of, I haven't seen your model man date." He tells her mockingly. "Did someone lie about having a date?"

(Y/N) rolls her eyes, and shows him a photo of the man, making his eyes widen at how beautiful he is. "That's not natural." Chandler shakes his head.

"But no, I didn't lie about having a date." (Y/N) stares at him. "He just bailed last minute. Said he took a job in LA at the Marc Jacobs show tomorrow morning so he had to fly out."

"Well, he's a jerk." Chandler states matter of factly. "Leaving you high and dry like that."

(Y/N) shrugs, "I'm not to broken up about it. Plus, I'm right where I wanna be." She smiles softly, squeezing Chandler's hand.

The man's heart leaps in his chest as the beautiful woman in front of him stares at him with her piercing (e/c) eyes. "Really? Sitting here, no date, with me." Chandler raises an eyebrow. "That's where you wanna be?"

"Why wouldn't I want to be here?" (Y/N) tilts her head. "I'd rather be here with you than anyone else."

(Y/N) glances over at the TV, "There's twenty seconds til midnight." She reveals.

"And the moment of joy is upon us." He smiles sarcastically.

(Y/N) listens as the group of people begin to count down. Ross, Monica, Rachel, Joey, and Phoebe seem to have formed their own little group in the other corner of the house. Everyone besides them seem to gather in their own little couples as they begin to count down.

3...

(Y/N) looks over at Chandler and stands up. The man looks at her with a confused look on his face. "What are you doing?"

"Get up." She commands.

2...

"What why?" He looks around rapidly, not understanding what's going on.

"Just get up." She repeats. "Trust me." She extends her hand out for him to take.

"Why do I have a feeling this isn't going to end well?" He asks warily.

"You tell me if it ends badly."

1...

"I don't understand-" Chandler furrows his eyebrows but is swiftly cut off by (Y/N) grabbing him by the collar and pulling him closer to her.

Happy New Year

(Y/N) smashes her lips onto Chandler's. The man sits in shock for a moment before settling into the kiss. He reciprocates her passion and continues kissing her happily. He grabs her waist and pulls her even closer than she was before. He digs his fingers into her side, causing her to gasp. He slips his tongue into her mouth smoothly and she sighs happily. Her hands shoot up into his hair, her thumbs rubbing the back of his head.

"Chandler's kissing (Y/N)!" Ross exclaims. "(Y/N)'s kissing Chandler!" He points over to the couple like a child catching his parents putting presents under the tree.

(Y/N) and Chandler reluctantly pull apart and both of them look over to their group of friends who are staring at them with blank faces. Chandler wraps his arm around (Y/N)'a waist.

"Well, Happy New Year everyone." He clears his throat. "But I think (Y/N) and I are gonna head back to her apartment."

(Y/N) nods rapidly, "Bye guys." She waves as the two frantically escape Monica's apartment, desperate to undress each other.

The group watches after them and Joey sighs, "It's about damn time." He exclaims.

Everyone nods and mumbles in agreement as they go back to the party. The tension between them has been palpable for awhile. It was truly only a matter of time.

Looks like the no date pact didn't do much good.

[cruel-seduction]

"Bad boy this, nonchalant man that, arrogant man this and cold man that"

Have you seen them? They are literal sunshines and pookie. They're the real husband material.

[godjustkys]

Omg, I swear it’s impossible to find people who write anything male reader with Friends characters.

Anyway, if possible could you do both sfw and nsfw headcanons for Chandler Bing. Absolutely no rush 🙏

THEME: headcanons!! SFW & NSFW

CHARACTER: male reader x chandler bing

NOTE: i love coming up with headcanons for silly characters such as chandler 😖

p.s. actually short.. my bad D:

WARNING: NSFW THEMES AHEAD.

SFW

- he LOVES physical affection; it is very easy to distract him with it. mention cuddles and my dude drops everything and is immediately clinging onto you.

- because chandler is dating a guy, his sarcasm goes into overdrive. gets snarky with you, mocks you in pure playful banter.

- when you think he is not looking, he is. he absolutely is. he notices things you don't even know, he's so attentive.

- smokes cigarettes in secret. sometimes, significantly less than he used to. usually he forgets to because you have his entire attention.

- chandler was thoroughly convinced that he'll somehow mess everything up with you. he didn't let his worry show. talked about it with joey, actually got useful advice and used it. your relationship has improved since then!

- SUBTLE PDA ONLY. rests his hand on your knee completely absentmindedly, fixes your clothes or hair, whispers little quips in your ear to loosen you up in a serious situation.

- if you two ever got married, he'd cry. So fucking hard. And make self-deprecating jokes about it while saying his vows.

- might've or might've not googled an "am I gay" quiz when he first had a thought about finding you attractive.

- isn't as romantic as he makes himself out to be. dates, surprises, those kinds of things he does, it's just.. he makes them unintentionally awkward or messes something up somehow, even if it's miniscule.

- an absolute klutz. clumsy as HELL. constantly bumping into corners, stubbing his toes, running into doors while trying to open them, dropping things he's holding, accidentally ripping a magazine, etc. etc. After each thing he comes to complain to you, secretly seeking your comfort.

- pretends he hates being babied but it makes him feel so loved. so needed. so fucking worthy.

NSFW

- pathetic during sex. like seriously. he's so desperate and needy for you, practically chanting your name during sex. extremely impatient, too.

- very very big on foreplay. totally not because he's insecure and wants to know that you actually want him..

- loses it and dies laughing if something happens during sex. for example if you fumbled a move, or accidentally lose your balance. though quite easy to get him back on track.

- is extremely open to new things. he's far more adventurous than you had anticipated.

- loves your hand stroking him or your mouth on his cock. especially your mouth.

- somnophilia. wants you to wake him up by shoving your cock inside him or groping him.

- is a switch but he has a thing for feeling weak, losing control. mostly submissive.

- talks too much, until he can't.

- whines, whimpers, moans, groans, grunts, all of the above.

- always keeps his eyes on your hands and what they do. Especially if you're stroking both of your cocks? yeah, he's leaking precum already.

- loves it when you mess with his legs. marking them, gripping them, kissing them.. JUST UGH.

- has post nut clarity. especially if he talked dirty. “why the fuck would I say that?” - his usual reaction, usually grumbling it into the pillow.

- sex cannot be.. vanilla with him. it's always messy, sloppy, hard, filthy.

- totally gets off on being told what to do. you could say “stay still” and dude's a statue.

- CHOKING KINK ALERT!!! he has moved your hand to his throat too many times to count. kinda ashamed when he hears himself gasping, but focuses on you again in a matter of seconds.

[wittyandobsessed]

𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Chandler Bing x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | none.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘰 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭, 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺. 𝘓𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯.

▸ Masterlist

You had just moved into this building. At only 24 years old, you desperately needed to distance yourself from your parents. You loved them, of course, but they could be suffocating at times, and you craved your own space, your independence. Yet, as fate would have it, everything seemed to be working against you that day. The rain was pouring relentlessly, and your umbrella had flipped inside out under the force of the wind, leaving you drenched from head to toe. And as if that wasn’t enough, a taxi sped past, splashing a massive puddle that soaked you in muddy water, leaving your pants heavy and stained. But the real breaking point came when you reached the door of your apartment at the end of the hallway. You tried the key in the lock, turning it every which way, but it wouldn’t budge. The lock was stuck. With a frustrated groan, you rested your forehead against the door, muttering curses under your breath.

You didn’t hear the door of the apartment further down the hallway open. Chandler, who had been planning to head to Monica’s to borrow some eggs, was momentarily distracted by the sound of someone grumbling. He turned his head and spotted you standing there, your back to him, still fighting with the door.

From behind, you were stunning—your silhouette striking, curves in all the right places, and even with your hair plastered to your face from the rain, you looked effortlessly beautiful. Chandler glanced down the hallway, making sure no one else was around before he cautiously approached you, deciding to break the silence.

“Uh, it’s the handle you need to turn,” he said, his voice laced with a charming, playful sarcasm, attempting to lighten the mood with his usual humor.

You jumped, startled by his voice, and turned to face him. Chandler froze. You were, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Even soaking wet, your hair clinging to your skin, you still radiated an ethereal kind of beauty that took his breath away. For a long moment, he stood there, speechless.

“Oh, uh... it’s the key, it’s not working,” you explained, sounding a little embarrassed. “The lock seems to be jammed.”

Chandler blinked, momentarily snapping out of his daze. He chuckled softly, trying to regain his composure.

“Yeah, locks... they can be a bit stubborn sometimes,” he said with a light-hearted grin, trying to make you feel better about the situation.

You smiled, thankful for his attempt at lightening the mood, even though your frustration was still palpable. Despite the mess you were in, there was something about Chandler’s presence that made you feel just a little bit lighter, as if everything wasn’t quite so bad after all.

Chandler offered to give it a try, stepping closer with a confident grin that barely masked the slight awkwardness in his expression. You moved aside, letting him take the key from your hand. The brief brush of his fingers against yours sent a small jolt of warmth through your otherwise chilled body. You stepped back, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to stay warm as he inserted the key into the lock with an exaggerated sense of determination.

“Alright,” he said, glancing back at you with a smirk. “Time to show this lock who’s boss.”

You chuckled softly despite yourself, the lightheartedness in his voice a welcome distraction from the miserable day you’d had.

Chandler jiggled the key, turning it left and then right, his brow furrowing when it didn’t move. He twisted harder, his knuckles whitening as he put his weight into it. The lock gave a soft metallic click, but it refused to turn any further.

“Okay, so the lock is stubborn. No problem,” he muttered, half to himself. He leaned in closer as if staring it down would intimidate it into submission. “I’ll just—hold on—” He tried again, this time bracing his other hand against the doorframe for leverage.

You couldn’t help but laugh quietly, shaking your head. “Are you always this persistent?”

He shot you a look over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “Only when there’s a damsel in distress. Or, you know, when my ego’s on the line. This lock and I are in a battle now, and I’m not losing.”

But after another minute of struggling, it was clear that the lock wasn’t going to budge. Chandler let out a dramatic sigh, pulling the key out and stepping back. “Alright, you win this round,” he muttered to the door, then turned to you with a sheepish grin. “It’s officially stuck. I gave it my best shot.”

“Thanks for trying,” you said with a small smile, though the heaviness of your situation quickly returned. “It’s not your fault. I guess I’ll just… find a hotel or something.”

His brow furrowed. 

“I just moved in. And I didn’t think to check the lock when I got the keys. Guess that’ll teach me to put things off.”

Your voice was light, but the frustration and exhaustion were evident. Chandler watched as you glanced at the staircase, your shoulders slumping under the weight of the day. Something about the way you looked—drenched, disheartened, and so utterly alone—hit him harder than he expected.

“Wait!” he called out just as you turned to leave.

You stopped, turning back to him with a mix of hesitation and curiosity. Rainwater dripped from your hair and clothes, forming a small puddle on the hallway floor. “Yes?”

“My friend Monica,” Chandler began, his voice a little breathless, as though he’d rushed to get the words out. He pointed to the door across the hall from his own. “She lives right there, and she’s amazing. Super organized, probably has extra clothes, towels—everything you’d need. Plus, we can use her phone to call the super.”

Your brow furrowed as you glanced toward the door he indicated. “That’s… really thoughtful, but I don’t want to disturb her. I mean, I don’t even know her.”

Chandler waved a dismissive hand, stepping closer to you. “Trust me, you wouldn’t be disturbing her. Monica lives for moments like this. Helping people is her thing. She’s like a fixer-upper queen, but for situations, not houses.”

You hesitated, glancing back toward the staircase. “I don’t know…”

“Look,” he said, his voice softening, “I can’t let you go back out there. It’s pouring, it’s freezing, and you’re already soaked. You’ll catch your death, and then I’ll have to live with the guilt of being the guy who let the most gorgeous woman he’s ever met freeze in the rain. Please, don’t make me carry that kind of emotional baggage.”

The corners of your lips twitched at his words, his earnestness wrapped in humor managing to chip away at your reluctance.

“Okay,” you said finally, giving him a small, grateful smile. “Thank you.”

Chandler’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “You won’t regret it, I promise. Monica’s probably already baking something ridiculously good-smelling. She’s weirdly domestic like that.”

He led the way across the hall, his hand brushing against the wall as he motioned toward Monica’s door. With a confident flourish, he grabbed the doorknob and twisted. It didn’t budge.

“Huh.” He blinked, trying again with a little more force. “That’s weird. It’s locked. She’s usually home at this time…”

You tilted your head, crossing your arms against the lingering chill in the air. “Maybe she’s out?”

“Unlikely,” Chandler said, rapping his knuckles lightly against the door. “Monica? You in there?” He paused, waiting for a response. When none came, he knocked again, louder this time. “Mon? It’s Chandler. Open up!”

The hallway remained silent except for the sound of rain battering against the building. Chandler frowned, leaning slightly closer to the door as if willing it to open.

“Looks like she’s not home,” you said gently, trying not to sound too disappointed.

Chandler straightened up, rubbing the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Yeah, they’re probably out. She and Rachel are big on spontaneous outings. I bet they’re at some yoga class or pottery workshop that Rachel dragged her to. Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” you said, managing a soft laugh. “You tried.”

Chandler’s expression turned thoughtful, his gaze flicking between Monica’s door and you. Then, almost as if deciding on something, he turned to face you fully. “Alright, Plan B,” he announced, spreading his arms wide as if unveiling something grand. “You’ll just have to settle for my place after all.”

“Settle?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Impose? Please. If anything, you’re saving me from another night of scrolling through TV channels and trying to convince myself to start a new hobby.” He grinned and stepped toward his door, opening it wide. “Come on. Dry clothes, warm air, and maybe even some tea if I can figure out how my kettle works. What do you say?”

You hesitated for a moment longer, but the storm outside made the decision easier. “Alright. Thank you."

You hesitated, glancing one last time toward the stairwell as if testing your resolve to leave. But the storm outside still raged, and the warm invitation from the man standing before you was impossible to ignore. You sighed softly, finally relenting. “Alright. Thank you,” you said, your voice tinged with both relief and gratitude.

Chandler’s expression brightened immediately, as if he’d just won a small victory. He turned and opened his apartment door, stepping aside with an exaggerated gesture. “Welcome to my humble, slightly cluttered abode. Watch out for the rogue Legos. They’ve been known to attack unsuspecting feet.”

You chuckled at his playful tone as you stepped inside. The warmth of the room hit you instantly, a stark contrast to the cold that had seeped into your bones.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said, glancing back at him as he closed the door behind you.

“Chandler,” he replied with a quick smile, rubbing his hands together like he was preparing for a mission. “Now that introductions are out of the way, let’s get you warm and dry. You’re, uh…” His gaze flicked over you briefly, taking in your soaked appearance. “Kind of dripping all over my floor. Not that I mind! I mean, it’s just water. But, you know… you look freezing.”

You gave him an apologetic look, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to leave a puddle trail.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Are you kidding? It’s fine. My carpet’s been through worse. Long story involving pizza and a very enthusiastic duck.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. “A duck?”

“Don’t ask,” he said with a grin, heading toward what you assumed was his bedroom. “Anyway, let me grab you something dry to wear. My fashion sense is… let’s call it ‘casual,’ but it’ll do the job.”

While he rummaged through his closet, you took a moment to look around the apartment. It was cozy and unpretentious, with an inviting lived-in feel. The coffee table held a mix of magazines, takeout menus, and a half-empty mug. A dartboard hung crookedly on the wall, and the faint aroma of coffee lingered in the air.

Chandler returned moments later, holding a sweatshirt that looked hilariously oversized. “Okay, here we go. This baby’s seen me through many a lazy Sunday, and now it’s your turn to experience its magic. Fair warning—it’s two sizes too big, but hey, that just makes it comfier.”

You accepted the sweatshirt with a small smile, your fingers brushing against his briefly. It was soft and carried a faint scent of detergent and something distinctly him. “Thank you,” you said again, meaning it.

“No problem,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck in an almost bashful gesture. “Oh, and the bathroom’s just here. Hot water’s good to go, and there are fresh towels in the cabinet. Take your time. I’ll just… be out here”

You laughed softly, the warmth of his humor cutting through the lingering chill in your body. “I’ll try not to use all the hot water.”

“Use as much as you want,” he replied, stepping back to give you space. “Seriously, go nuts. It’s not like I have a hot date waiting for me tonight. Or, you know, any date.”

With a faint smile, you made your way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. The small space was neat, with a lemon-scented candle sitting on the counter and fluffy towels folded neatly in the corner. You set down the sweatshirt and began peeling off your wet clothes, shivering as the cold air hit your skin.

When you stepped under the hot spray of the shower, a sigh of relief escaped your lips. The warmth seeped into your muscles, easing the tension that had built up over the day. Steam filled the bathroom, and for the first time, you felt like you could finally relax.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Chandler paced nervously, stealing glances at the closed bathroom door. His hands fidgeted as he muttered under his breath. “Okay, Chandler, play it cool. She’s just a neighbor. A beautiful, funny, possibly mythical neighbor who just happens to smell really nice, even when she’s soaked. No big deal.”

He glanced at the couch, considering whether to straighten the pillows. Then he moved a stack of magazines from the coffee table to the side, only to move them back again. “Stop overthinking,” he told himself firmly, flopping onto the couch. “You’re just being nice. It’s not like you’re planning your wedding or anything. Right? Right.”

When the sound of running water stopped, Chandler’s heart skipped a beat. He shot a quick glance at the bathroom door, then down at himself, smoothing his shirt as if that would somehow make him appear more composed. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax, mentally rehearsing something casual to say.

But when the door opened, his carefully constructed composure shattered.

You stepped out, wrapped in his oversized sweatshirt that hung loosely on your frame. The hem stopped just above your knees, leaving your legs bare and glistening faintly under the soft light of the apartment. The sleeves were comically long, your hands barely visible as they peeked out of the fabric. Your damp hair curled gently, framing your face with a softness that made his breath catch. Your cheeks were flushed from the warmth of the shower, and the faintest trace of a smile played on your lips as you glanced up at him.

Chandler froze. For a split second, he forgot how to breathe. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but this—you, standing there like some kind of ethereal vision—was definitely not it. His brain scrambled for words, but all that came out was, “Oh.”

You tilted your head, a slight smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. “Oh?”

Realizing how dumb he must’ve sounded, he quickly cleared his throat and stood up, rubbing the back of his neck in an attempt to cover his reaction. “Uh, I mean—wow. I mean, uh… better? You feel better?”

You nodded, seemingly unaware of the effect you had on him. “Much better,” you replied, your voice soft and warm. “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever appreciated a hot shower this much.”

Chandler blinked a few times, forcing himself to focus on your words rather than the way the sweatshirt clung to you in all the right places. “Good. That’s, uh, that’s good. Showers are great. Big fan of showers.”

You laughed lightly, the sound like music to his ears. “Well, you’ve officially saved me tonight. Between the sweatshirt and the shower, I owe you one.”

His lips twitched into a lopsided grin, though his mind was still racing. Get it together, Bing. “Hey, no need to thank me. It’s all part of the, uh, Chandler Bing hospitality package.”

Chandler’s lopsided grin remained as he gestured toward the phone on the counter. “Feel free to call the super. I’ll, uh, get started on that tea I promised. 

You chuckled softly, picking up the phone and dialing. “Thanks, Chandler.”

As you began your call, Chandler turned toward the kitchenette, mentally preparing himself to focus on the tea. But when he glanced over and saw you perched on one of the high stools at the bar, your legs elegantly crossed and your hair still damp from the shower, his resolve crumbled.

You looked completely at ease, one hand tucked under your chin as you spoke into the phone. His sweatshirt, oversized and cozy on you, hung loosely off one shoulder, revealing the smooth curve of your collarbone. The sleeves were so long they nearly swallowed your hands, and the sight made him smile despite himself.

How does she make that look so good?

He fumbled with the kettle, filling it with water and setting it on the stove. As it began to heat, he grabbed the tea box, pausing for a second as another thought crept into his mind. There was something almost surreal about the scene—like you belonged here, perched at his counter, wearing his clothes, filling his apartment with your warmth. He shook his head, forcing the thought away. Get a grip, Bing. She’s just a neighbor who got locked out. That’s it.

“Hello? Yes, this is Y/N from apartment 3C,” you said into the phone. Chandler couldn’t help but steal another glance. The way your voice softened as you explained the situation made something in his chest tighten.

“No, the lock seems completely jammed,” you continued. “I’ve tried the key every way I can think of… Oh, I see. No problem. Thank you.”

When you hung up, you sighed softly, your fingers brushing the edge of the counter as you turned to face him. “The super’s not in the building right now,” you explained. “But he said he’d be here in about half an hour.”

Chandler nodded, pouring steaming water into two mugs. “Half an hour, huh? That’s not too bad. Enough time to let the tea work its magic.” He slid a mug across the counter to you, his fingers brushing yours briefly. The warmth of the ceramic mirrored the faint heat that spread through you at the simple contact.

“Thank you,” you said softly, cradling the mug in your hands. The steam curled lazily upward, warming your face.

Chandler leaned against the counter across from you, crossing his arms in an attempt to look casual. “So,” he said, raising an eyebrow, “how’s my tea-making holding up? Should I add it to my résumé?”

You took a sip, smiling at him over the rim of the mug. “It’s actually really good. I think you undersold yourself.”

“Of course, I did,” he said with a smirk. “Can’t let the world know I’m secretly a tea master. Gotta keep some mystery alive.”

You laughed lightly, and the sound made his chest swell with an unexpected sense of pride. “Well, consider me impressed. But seriously, Chandler, you didn’t have to do all of this—letting me in, lending me your sweatshirt, making tea… It’s a lot for someone you’ve just met.”

He shrugged, his grin softening into something more genuine. “It’s really not a big deal. What was I supposed to do? Let you freeze out there in the rain?” He paused, his voice lowering slightly. “Besides, you seem like someone worth helping.”

Your cheeks warmed, and you ducked your head, hiding your smile behind your mug. “That’s… really kind of you to say.”

“Well, don’t get used to it,” he said, his usual sarcasm slipping back into place. “I’m not always this charming.”

You raised an eyebrow, your playful smirk returning. “Oh, I don’t know. You’ve been pretty charming so far.”

Chandler blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your response. He felt a flutter of nerves in his chest, something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. “Yeah, well… stick around. I might surprise you.”

A comfortable silence settled between you for a moment as you sipped your tea. Chandler’s eyes wandered back to you, and before he could stop himself, he blurted out, “So, uh… what brings you to the city?”

You glanced at him, setting your mug down on the counter. “Honestly? A fresh start. I wanted to get away from my small town, try something new. It’s been a little overwhelming so far, but… I’m hoping it’s worth it.”

He nodded, leaning forward slightly. “Big city life can be a lot, but trust me, it grows on you. And hey, now you’ve got a neighbor who makes killer tea, so you’re already ahead of the game.”

You laughed again, the tension from the night easing with each passing moment. “True. I think I might be luckier than I thought.”

Chandler felt his heart skip again, his grin widening despite himself. “Well, in that case, welcome to the building. If you ever need anything—like, say, a sweatshirt or some world-class tea—you know where to find me.”

“Thanks, Chandler,” you said softly, your gaze meeting his. For a moment, the air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was lingering just beneath the surface.

He cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “So, uh, wanna see the rest of the place while we wait? It’s not much, but it’s home.”

You nodded, your smile warm and inviting. “I’d like that.”

As he led you around the apartment, pointing out quirky features and cracking jokes about his questionable decorating choices, Chandler couldn’t help but think that tonight had turned out far better than he’d ever expected. And for the first time in a long while, he found himself hoping for more nights like this—nights with you.

The half-hour spent waiting for the super passed faster than either of you expected. You stayed on Chandler’s couch, sipping your tea while laughing at his endless stream of sarcastic jokes and stories about his eccentric group of friends. He painted a vivid picture of Joey’s antics, Monica’s obsession with cleaning, and Ross’s dinosaur lectures, all while gesturing animatedly, his eyes lighting up as he spoke.

“You’re serious?” you asked between fits of laughter. “Joey really got stuck in the entertainment unit?”

“Oh, not just stuck,” Chandler said, his tone rich with exaggerated drama. “He lived there for an hour. We almost had to charge him rent.”

Your laughter was bright and infectious, filling his apartment with a warmth that Chandler hadn’t realized it was missing. He found himself leaning closer without thinking, his arm resting along the back of the couch, his attention entirely on you.

For your part, you felt oddly at ease. You had just met Chandler, but there was something about him that made you feel safe, like you’d known him far longer. His humor, his kindness—it all drew you in, making you wish the night didn’t have to end so soon.

But then came the knock at the door.

Chandler’s smile faltered briefly, but he quickly recovered, standing and heading toward the door. “That’ll be the super. Excuse me while I roll out the red carpet.”

You chuckled, following him as he opened the door to reveal an older man in a worn jacket holding a toolbox. The super gave a gruff nod. “Apartment 3C?”

“That’s us,” Chandler said

The three of you walked down the hallway to your door. The super knelt down and began fiddling with the lock, muttering about poor maintenance and how everyone always called him during storms. You stood nearby, your arms crossed loosely over your chest, feeling both grateful and strangely wistful. Chandler, standing close enough that his shoulder almost brushed yours, turned to you with a small, lopsided grin.

“Well,” he said, his voice quieter than usual, “looks like the great lock adventure is almost over.”

You met his eyes, your smile warm but tinged with reluctance. “Yeah… I guess so.”

He nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets, his gaze lingering on you. For all his humor and quick wit, Chandler found himself at a loss for words. He didn’t want the night to end. He didn’t want you to walk into your apartment, leaving him alone with only the faint scent of your shampoo lingering in the air.

“There,” the super said, interrupting the moment as he straightened up. “Try it now.”

You stepped forward, sliding the key into the lock. This time, it turned smoothly, the door creaking open with ease. Relief flooded you, but it was quickly accompanied by a pang of sadness.

You turned back to Chandler, your eyes soft and grateful. “Thank you so much for everything tonight, Chandler. Really. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

He shrugged, forcing a playful grin onto his face. “Hey, it was nothing. Just your friendly neighborhood Chandler Bing, here to save the day.”

You laughed softly, and before he could say anything else, you leaned in, pressing a warm kiss to his cheek.

“Goodnight, Chandler,” you said gently, pulling back and stepping into your apartment.

He stood there, frozen, his hand instinctively rising to touch the spot where your lips had brushed his skin. His heart thudded in his chest, his mind spinning with a mix of emotions he couldn’t quite pin down.

The sound of your door closing pulled him out of his daze. He stared at it for a long moment, his lips twitching into a soft smile.

“Bing, what are you doing out here?”

Chandler turned to see Joey strolling down the hallway, his brow furrowed as he took in the scene.

“Nothing,” Chandler said quickly, dropping his hand from his cheek and trying to sound nonchalant.

Joey raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “You’ve been standing here for like five minutes. Did you get hit by lightning or something?”

Chandler smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Nope. Just… helping a new neighbor. Very heroic of me, really.”

Joey squinted at him suspiciously, then glanced at the door you’d just disappeared behind. “New neighbor, huh? She cute?”

Chandler rolled his eyes, though a faint blush crept up his neck. “Go to bed, Joey.”

Joey grinned, clapping him on the shoulder as he walked past. “Alright, man. But if she’s single, call dibs now. You know the rules.”

Chandler shook his head, muttering under his breath as Joey disappeared into their apartment. He turned back toward your door, his smile softening.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured quietly to himself before finally heading back inside.

[unknownbl0ggerr]

His shirt

Chandler Bing x Fem! Reader

The group catches y/n wearing Chandlers shirt, y/n and chandler arent out as a couple yet. (Kinda based off of the “rach can i borrow your eyelash curler i think i lost mine”)

—————————————

“Hey Chandler, wheres that white shirt you always wear? I thought you were gonna wear it when we all go to my show.” Joey asked and the rest of the group turned to look at Chandler. Chandler didnt answer for a second, “uh in the washer! I need to run a load soon.” He stuttered through the sentence. Joey thought nothing of it and neither did the others. “Alright well lets go see if y/n is up yet, she needs to get ready too.” Ross said opening the door as everyone walked across the hall to the apartment.

“Y/n! You up yet?” Joey called out. She walked out of her room not paying any attention to what was going on, “give me five minutes to get dressed and i’ll be ready.” Some of the others gasped and Joey just nodded before looking at the others, “what?”

Joey looked back at y/n and eventually noticed her shirt, then gasped as well. Y/n looked confused then looked at the shirt she was wearing, Chandlers shirt. Her eyes widened and she looked up at Chandler who’s eyes were also widened. “In the washer huh Chandler?” Ross asked as the group looked at him. Chandler gave a sarcastic smile before speed walking over to y/n and practically dragging her back to her room.

“Well 1. I definitely need to see you wearing my clothes more often because.. wow.” Chandler started gesturing to her making her smile and blush, “and 2. I guess its time to tell them huh?” Y/n laughed and nodded, “i guess so. I’ll get dressed and then we’ll talk to them okay?” Chandler nodded and sat on her bed as she went and got dressed.

————

After she got dressed she walked out of her closet putting on her earrings, “okay ready?” She reached for the door but got pulled back, “one more thing.” Chandler smiled and pulled her to him, he cupped her face with one hand and kissed her. Once they pulled away she wiped the lipstick off his lips but kissed him on the cheek leaving a mark. “Now im ready.” He said smiling wide. She smiled back and nodded as she opened the door.

They were all in the same spot and immediately turned to the door. There was a minute of silence before everyone started talking, many “i knew it!” And “i called it!” And “you owe me that 20 bucks!” Were thrown around and Chandler wrapped an arm around your waist, “as much fun it was being a secret im definitely going to love this even more.” Chandler whispered quietly in her ear. She smiled and looked up at him as the others still argued with each other about their bets, “me too.”

Small one tonight as i finish the other one im working on. i had a dream about this last night actually about chandler and thought it wouldve been a cute prompt so i hope you all think so. Also I might start writing for Joey as well but we’ll see!

[myveryownfanfiction]

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

warnings: none

AN: RIP Matthew Perry. You were one of the first people I fell in love with and wanted to be in love with for the rest of my life. I hope you know how much you were loved.

chandler chuckled as I tried to burrow deeper into his chest. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and tightened his grip on me.

“you know I’m solid right?” He laughed. “If you want to get any closer, I’m going to have to eat you.” Chandler brought my hand up to his mouth and gently bit my finger. I laughed as he made a face. “And I’m sorry darling but you just don’t taste that good.”

“I love you.” I said with a smile. “So much.” Chandler beamed at me.

“I love you too.” He said, smiling growing my the second. I gently hit his chest.

“stop it.” I whined. “Makes it feel like a joke. I’m being serious.” Chandler leaned down and kissed me deeply. He rolled onto his back and held me against his chest.

“I know. And I am being serious. I love you too.” I propped my chin on his chest and watched him stare at the ceiling with a grin on his face.

“Sometimes I don’t think you understand how much i love you chandler bing.” I whispered. Chandler looked down at me and shrugged.

“is that a bad thing?” He asked. I shook my head. We laid there for a while before he spoke up again. “What brought this on?” I shrugged and leaned up to kiss him.

“not sure really. Just want you to know how much I love you.” I said with a smile. Chandler nodded and kissed me again.

“you don’t understand how much I love you either. But that’s alright. Because I hope to show you one day.” He whispered when I pulled away. “But just know, I do love you. Very much.” We laid there smiling at each other and occasionally stealing kisses before the alarm went off.

[chessholic]

The One With

Comfort

ー

　　　　 F R I E N D S

X

R E A D E R

　　　 　ー

Summary: Your boyfriend was a jerk and he broke up with you. Fortunately you had your friends and all of them helped you in their own ways.

ー　

Author's Note: I will forever love Friends, my favourite comfort show. I have a few fics written about Joey, I could maybe publish them. Let's see, I hope you enjoy this.

ー

You stumbled into Monica's and Rachel's apartment.

To simply put it you looked disheveled. Your eyes were slightly red and puffy, hair a mess and your clothes didn't match your jacket or shoes, which was unusual.

You cursed slightly when you could see six pairs of eyes staring at you, of course they were all here. If they were not in the coffee shop they were here.

"Y/N?", Monica asked rushing towards you from the kitchen.

"What happened?", she asked worriedly and brushed your messed up hair behind your ears. Monica also helped you out of your jacket and helped you to sit on the couch.

Chandler was sitting on the other side and you could see he was holding back some sarcastic comments about your current state.

You were slightly glad, you always found him funny, but this was definitely not the moment.

Phoebe had been sitting on the floor in front of the television. She had her guitar and was writing down something, probably a new song for next week.

Central Perk was in for a treat.

The song title was 'My mother was killed by a drug dealer, my mother was a drug dealer'.

Joey was in the kitchen sitting at the table finishing off something from the fridge it was apparently a jar of jam, maybe blueberry jam. However his eyebrows were scrunched in worry.

Rachel was sitting around the table too with Ross, both looking slightly amazed at Joey's eating, that wasn't probably his first jar of jam.

They were probably leaving to go on a date soon, because they were all dressed up. It made your heart ache.

"He left me", sob escaped your mouth shortly after your confession.

The apartment was filled with different reactions.

Monica was first to close you into a tight embrace petting your hair.

"I am so sorry, we could bake cookies today and burn some of his belongings?", your friend suggested while trying to calm you down. She was quick to offer you a tissue box.

"He took them with his new girl when he came and broke up with me", you cried still distraught about the fact he had cheated and moved on so fast like you never existed.

"Let's burn him instead, yea?", Chandler proposed and scooted closer to you rubbing your back slightly awkwardly, you knew it wasn't his expertise to console someone if sarcasm was off the table.

You let out a watery laugh muttering a quiet thanks to him.

"Yeah, we don't need to go with Ross, he was anyways taking us to some lecture about... Rocks", Rachel joined walking towards the living room and stole you from Monica. While Ross choked up.

"They are not rocks, they are... Well technically they are..."

Rachel hugged you tightly while she gave a deathly glare at Ross shutting him up.

"I am sorry, that jerk didn't deserve you. Let's go shopping some day, okay? We can use my discount", she took your face in her hands and you nodded eyes shining.

In your sad tears had mixed happy tears, you had amazing friends. You couldn't help, but feel thankful.

"My grandmother's taxi can fit a body in the trunk", Phoebe said suddenly getting up to give you a hug.

"Noted, don't piss off Pheebs, ever", Chandler said while others didn't even know what to say. Everyone however had the same question in mind.

"We can also make a song together, I could also use some inspiration and break up songs are hits usually. Especially when the ex was a total asshole", Phoebe stated giving you a hug before returning to her song writing place.

Phoebe turned the paper and made some notes, you couldn't wait to hear what the song was going to be.

"Thank you everyone, I really appreciate you and your help", you thanked them from the bottom of your heart.

"That's what friends are for", Monica stated and everyone nodded agreeing to what she said.

"We are there to help and for each other"

"I can take you on a tour in the museum someday, at least someone appreciates the rocks here", Ross suggested and bitterly muttered the rest of his sentence making Rachel give him another glare which Ross returned.

"Enough with the bickering love birds, I am getting PTSD", Chandler said jumping from the sofa and getting the couples jackets, before throwing them to the owners and ushering the couple towards the door.

"Go, go, out, off you go", Chandler ushered not letting Rachel or Ross protest.

"We got this, have fun with the rocks", Chandler said before slamming the door closed. He looked pleased with himself.

You clapped and he bowed, "That was rather impressive", you confessed.

"Rachel probably hasn't ever left so quickly to anywhere, could be the first time they are on time somewhere", Monica pondered for a moment before heading back to the kitchen.

"You relax and I will prepare the cookie dough. This situation needs cookie dough and ice cream", Monica ordered pointing at you to stay put.

"I might have eaten the ice cream", Joey said quietly with a sheepish look on his face when he avoided looking at Monica's face.

"I will go get more, because I trust myself more than Joey to go get the ice cream", Chandler stated pulling his jacket on.

He quickly came to you and gave you a kiss on the cheek.

"I will go get all your favourite ice cream, hold on, although I know it will be difficult without my charming presence and looks"

Phoebe let out a snort earning a glare from Chandler.

"Really needed to twist the knife", he muttered before exiting the apartment.

You quietly sat on the sofa. Phoebe was writing and Monica preparing everything comforting food the world new in the kitchen.

Suddenly the sofa dipped, Joey had sat next to you.

Joey had a small amount of jam on his face, it wasn't much compared to the last time, but still.

You took a tissue you hadn't yet used and cleaned his face. After that he opened his arms to welcome you into a warm embrace. You cuddled next to Joey without a moment of hesitation, pressing your head against his chest you could feel his warmth and heart beat making you relax.

"Finally I got you all to myself", Joey mumbled quietly pressing a small kiss onto your hair.

"I am sorry, you deserve so much more"

Joey's heart was aching for his friend, he would do anything in his power to make you feel better. He would maybe even share his pizza with you...

Maybe a slice.

Yes, a slice was fine.

ー

[amorchai]

📁 “i don’t know if this is too soon but I think I have feelings for you,” + “sorry oh my god.” for chandler bing please 😁😁. Love your work!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

pairing(s): chandler bing x reader

words: 723

warnings/tags: just fluff.

from the moment you had entered the small central perk café, you were unaware of the eyes on you. chandler was taken aback, mid-punchline when he stared at you, trailing off.

“finally something’s distracted him…” monica murmurs into her coffee cup. ross nudged her after following chandler’s gaze, “… or rather, someone.”

all his friends were smiling at him knowingly, lucky joey wasn’t there to swoop in, chandler had thought. then his friend walked in, as if predicted, and chandler’s heart stopped when joey walked over towards you.

it was rare joey was turned down, and chandler wished he felt bad for his best friend when he walked off defeated and shrugging at his friends – but chandler was only relieved.

you finally looked at him, matching his awkward smile and rachel squeals and taps chandler’s knee, “go!”

chandler stands when you are handing your money to gunther while he gave you the hot drink. you almost bumped into chandler, turning around to leave and he lets out an ‘i’m so sorry!’ when you gasped and held your cup tightly.

“i know by stepping into a coffee shop you didn’t want two guys hitting on you, but…” he trailed off in that moment, good god what should he have said? you’re laughing softly at him, glancing at your hands, to his watching friends and back to him.

“what?” you had asked, prompting him to snap out his thoughts, “you’re just really pretty and- i really don’t know what i’m doing,” the way he talked and the tug on his tie beneath the sweater-vest was so adorably dorky and you laughed again.

you thanked him before continuing, “i’m y/n.” chandler’s eyes were light and soft when you offered your exchange and his teeth were shown in a smile when he replied through a chuckle, shoulders relaxing, “chandler.”

before he knew it, you were giving him your number and returning to his excited friends and an astonished, disbelieving joey. when he phoned you that night he was all grins, agreeing to meet you the following night for dinner.

he aspired to be a gentlemen, bringing you flowers to your door, opening doors for you, even paying for dinner even when you argued against it.

chandler felt like he was dreaming, your arm in his gently as you both walked in the brisk new york night, coats adorned under the streetlights. he didn’t want the night to end, wishing he could walk the world with your arm entwined with his just so you could stay together.

but all too soon, you were outside your door and your arm was no longer near when you both came to a stop. you stepped in front of him, cheeks warm in the cold air as chandler’s eyes scan your features delicately, still awkward as himself but much more comfortable than when you first met him.

you could tell he wanted to say something, his eyes full of meaning and lips parting to speak, only for him to not say anything. you fix the collar of his shirt as you wait patiently, not wanting to rush him or leave him and his heart beats rapidly beneath your fingertips and his shivering chest.

“i don’t know if this is too soon but i think i have feelings for you,” it rambled from his mouth before he knew it, you could tell by the way his eyes widen afterwards. you only smile, ready to reply until he interrupts,

“sorry, oh my god,” you laugh as he fumbles, placing your hands firmly on his chest, taking a step closer to him, “it’s okay.” chandler shakes his head, “no, god, i shouldn’t have said that. i just-“ he sighs, “i’ve never felt like this on a first date, i usually don’t get attached like this but i really like you and, i’ve done it again, i wouldn’t blame you if you walked away right now and never-”

you shut him up with a kiss, leaning up mid-sentence and he stops talking to hold your head and kiss you back desperately, shocked at the return as he fully expected you to leave him standing.

“i like you too, you idiot,” you murmur against his lips with a laugh, and he joins in before pulling your head closer, lips not wanting to pull back just yet. or ever for that matter.

amorchai masterlist . taglist

amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[softearz]

𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐸𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑁 𝐸𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝑌 𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐸. — the anthology! ⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

— work in progress ౨ৎ return to masterlist —

— WELCOME TO NEW YORK ౨ৎ joey tribbiani. chandler's sister didn't except anything from new york, maybe a job — but not love.

— BLANK SPACE ౨ৎ billy loomis. a romance of a girl who thinks she can change him, and a boy who has no intention of doing so.

— STYLE ౨ৎ eddie munson. don't we say that opposites attract? nobody would've expect hawkins' sweetheart to find love in the freak.

— OUT OF THE WOODS ౨ৎ draco malfoy. the story of a boy who can't seem to stay away from problems ; and a girl who's tired of fixing his mistakes.

— ALL YOU HAD TO DO WAS STAY ౨ৎ tom ryder. he fucked up; he wants you back.

— SHAKE IT OFF ౨ৎ chrissy cunningham. you and your best friends decide that you don't need men anymore.

— I WISH YOU WOULD ౨ৎ steve harrington. you and steve broke up after an argument ; the thing is, neither of you want to stay away from the other.

— BAD BLOOD ౨ৎ hermione granger. academic rivals with the best two students in howgarts.

— WILDEST DREAMS ౨ৎ eliot. you think eliot is gonna leave you after sleeping with you ; he proves you otherwise.

— HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ౨ৎ eddie munson. when eddie comes knocking at his best friend's door to ask you advices about a girl he likes, you don't understand he talks about you.

— THIS LOVE ౨ৎ luna lovegood. after looking love everywhere, you realize it's been in front of you all this time.

— I KNOW PLACES ౨ৎ tom!peter parker. fame when you're a superhero is heavy ; sometimes, you just need a little break from it.

— CLEAN ౨ৎ jake peralta. getting out of a toxic relationship, an unlikely friendship forms between you and a police officer.

— WONDERLAND ౨ৎ quinn bailey. giving your trust is hard ; being betrayed once again feels too heavy.

— YOU ARE IN LOVE ౨ৎ chandler bing. two best friends (idiots) in love.

— NEW ROMANTICS ౨ৎ loki laufeyson. you should've known dating the infamous god of mischief would've turned into a betrayal ; once again.

— SLUT! ౨ৎ cassie howard. when two of the most popular girls — who also happen to be friends — start dating, the rumors go hard; good thing you don't care what people say.

— SAY DON'T GO ౨ৎ stu macher. you knew your boyfriend was ghostface; you weren't sure why you didn't say anything to the police. what you didn't knew was that he didn't plan on keeping you alive.

— NOW THAT WE DON'T TALK ౨ৎ peter quill. after your childhood best friends left to join a new group, you decide to forget him ; but it's hard when he suddenly comes back into your life.

— SUBURBAN LEGENDS ౨ৎ robin buckley. you've been cheated on by your now ex-boyfriend ; good thing you have your friend to cheer you up.

— IS IT OVER NOW? ౨ৎ scott lang. scott lang just wante to spend a nice sunday afternoon with his daughter ; he didn't expect you to knock at his door in tears after a bad breakup.

softearz © ─ all rights reserved!

[writerdream22]

requested by: anonymous, I really hope you like this ✨🌻💛

pairing (platonic): Chandler Bing x reader

prompt used: “I told you that I'd never leave you. I'm not going anywhere”

warnings: none. English is not my first language so there might be some grammatical errors a/n: it has been some time since I have either written or posted anything on this platform. This first year of uni has been quite difficult, but I will try to fulfill all of the requests that I have received throughout all of this summer!

feedbacks are always appreciated!

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!

You had lost all your trust in people.

Men in particular.

When you realised that your longtime boyfriend had been "having fun" with one of his colleagues (who he’s told you was just a friend) for six months, you tried to find ways to resolve the matter in the most responsible way.

First, you tried to resonate with the guy, who promptly started accusing you of neglecting him and your relationship and justified his cheating in the most absurd ways.

Even though you had started the discussion with somewhat good intentions, the rage and hatred you felt against who you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with won against your better judgement. So you kicked him and his mistress out of the house, then you threw all of his things and everything he had ever gifted you out of the window.

As soon as the whole ordeal came to an end, you fell to the ground and started crying uncontrollably. 

You normally would have called your friends and asked for their comfort. This time, however, you felt the need to be alone and process the whole thing by yourself. 

Even though you received quite a few calls, you let them all go to voicemail and cried yourself to sleep for a few days in a row.

A week after the breakup you heard a knock on your door. The person was rather insistent, because even though you were not answering, they kept going.

“Y/n, it’s me, Chandler. Please, open up” your eyes widened as you realised that your best friend was standing in the hallway.

“Go away!” you shouted, as you sat on your sofa.

“Come on, I bought your favourite food. And some coffee. I figured you might need it”

You sat up, and hesitated if you should either open the door or not. Just as you were about to turn the handle, you heard Chandler’s voice again.

“Ok, let’s put it that way” he said “If you don’t open up now, I will break in. And I know how much you like the new wooden frame that you put on your door”.

Your eyes widened. Chandler wouldn’t do such a thing now, would he?

“Yes, I will actually do it, Y/n”. It seemed like he had read your mind.

Needless to say, you pondered your choices and opted to let your best friend in.

“God… you look- terrible”

“Yeah, I know” you scoffed, as Chandler walked through the door “What do you want?”

“I did actually bring you food, you know? And refreshments, too” he responded, gesturing to the plastic bag that he was holding. He quickly reached into it and pulled out a plastic coffee cup.

You softly smiled, taking it from his hands, then put it down on your counter in order to prevent it from spilling onto your carpet.

“The food’s already cold, so we can wait to eat it if you’d like” Chandler responded, to which you responded with a nod indicating that you preferred to eat later.

The two of you sat down on your couch, facing each other. You knew that there were questions to be answered, so you prepared yourself for your best friend’s interrogation.

“So, you and him-” he began.

“Yes. We broke up”

“Because he-”

“He cheated on me with that colleague of his. The one we all met at that party. Rachel had told me that there was something wrong about her, but I didn’t listen” you paused “You, too, had told me that you didn’t like him as soon as you saw him. And- I am so dumb” 

Just as you were beginning to recount the whole story, you started crying. Obviously, Chandler immediately hugged you as tight as he could in order to show you that you were safe.

“Shh, I know, I know. He’s a scum” he asserted “And he’s stupid for leaving you”

“You’re not leaving me too, are you?” you sobbed. 

You genuinely fear that, eventually, each and every one of your friends was going to leave you because of a particular flaw that you had or because you were too annoying for them. But at the same time, you had known Chandler, Monica and the others for quite some time so if they were truly annoyed by you they would have said so earlier.

“When we graduated college, I told you that I’d never leave you, Y/n” Chandler said, as he held you in his arms and gently stroked your hair “I’m not going anywhere”

“Really?”

“Yeah, of course! You’re stuck with me! Now, let’s celebrate this new era of you and not think about the bad stuff, huh?”

[greyyson-but-no]

yellow is the colour of his eyes

they weren't, though. they were blue, but somehow he radiated yellow. just his brightness, his ability to light up a room. he was the colour yellow. and he was currently halfway across the world from you. it didn't make any sense. you thought he was supposed to be the person you would end up with and yet, he was in a different continent and you were stuck at a desk in england working a job you hated.

why you had taken the job, you didn't know.

currently, you were sat at home, on the phone late at night because of a stupid time difference that meant you were never able to even talk to him. you thought living in a different apartment block was different, you never would have believed you would be trying to continue dating him when living in different countries. but the two of you were trying, and that's what was important. the act of trying.

his voice came through soft. "sweetheart? you still with me?"

bringing you out of your head, you grumbled and nodded even though he couldn't see you. "yeah. just about."

"what's the matter?" and he immediately knew something was wrong, just as he always did when you were just a five minute walk from his apartment. "you can tell me."

"i miss you? I think." you coughed away from the phone, nervous for what this conversation would lead to, what it might not lead to and the incorrect implications he may take from it. "I don't know. this is so difficult and I'm struggling so much. and yeah. it's nice to hear from you but it's getting rarer and rarer and I don't know how much longer I can do this for."

chandler hummed on the other end, noises of him shuffling around on his bed echoing through. "i understand."

slowly, that lump was starting to form in the back of your throat, voice going all wobbly like it had been doing a bit too much recently. "it's just... im stuck in this dead end job that I feel like I'm never going to get out of, and at the same time my boyfriend that I love with my whole heart is in another country and I barely see him anymore that it doesn't even feel like we're together anymore."

"honey... I don't know what to say."

you sighed, fiddling with the chord of the telephone. "yeah i know. me neither. it's too difficult."

"it's christmas soon, maybe I could come and visit over the holidays?" he offered. "I'd have to take some time off work but that's something I'm willing to do for you."

"your work hate you taking days off though. didn't they say it's a risk of demotion?"

chandler laughed lowly, shaking his head. "anything for you."

"chan, I couldn't ask you to do that." you told him, biting your top lip as you weigh up the price of seeing him again with the price of him risking his recent promotion. as much as you would kill to see him again, to hold him, his job was just too important to him. joey and him needed the money in new york with joe losing his place on days of our lives. you couldn't ask him to risk that. "im saying no, chandler, I'm sorry."

he hummed again, clearly put down by your words. "yeah I know, it's too risky."

"maybe..." but you faded your words, not wanting to even think of what your brain was telling you. the thought was making you distraught. and you'd just had a whole thing about its the act of trying that matters most. the two of you couldn't just give up.

but chandler caught it, eyebrows furrowing in manhatten, monica and joey looking over at him from where they were sat in the living room. "what? maybe what?"

you shook your head, even though again he couldn't see. "nothing. just..."

"go on."

"maybe this is too difficult. maybe we shouldn't..."

"darling, what are you saying?"

you sighed, falling backwards onto your bed, letting the duvet surround you. "maybe we should stop trying."

chandler didn't speak for a bit. on the other end, he had fallen against the wall, not being able to believe what you had just said to him. his shoulders dropped and his voice did too, not understanding what was happening. "are you..." he coughed. "is that it then? are you breaking up with me?"

"I'm sorry. I wish this was easier."

"yeah. mhm." was all he mumbled, before pulling his ear away from the phone and ending the call, disrupted, slamming it against the stand on the side of the wall.

a week later, you were groggy, tired, and every bone in your body felt like someone had smacked each of them with a hammer individually until they shattered. but this would be worth it. the plane journey was terrible, with several babies crying throughout and some guy next to you that hogged the arm rest. but once you had your notebook out, planning what to say to him, all of that zoned out.

the cab was okay. you spoke with the driver bit and used his conversational skills to text what your plan was. he thought it was a good idea, even when you had explained what happened.

when the cab stopped outside the apartment block, you thanked him, paid him and continued to run straight upstairs, your bag knocking against any wall and any stair possible with the speed you were running at.

quitting your job wasn't difficult for you. the night after the break up you didn't sleep, contemplating what you could possibly do to change the decision you had made. the only one that made sense was quitting the job you had only just taken and move back to new york to be with him again. the company had been sad to see you go, and your boss specifically kicked up a fuss but you had made your decision.

chandler was who you needed.

this was definitely the right decision. it didn't matter that your parents didn't like him, or that they wanted you in a steady job in a country you knew. but new york was your home. the guys and the girls were your home. the apartment with ross was. chandler was your home.

that was the final thought that occurred to you as you opened the purple door to the apartment you had missed so much. chandler would either be here, his own apartment or central perk. this was the first and best bet.

"chandler?" he turned on the sofa, the rest of the group turning too but you didn't even notice them, even though they were all there, you were too occupied. "chandler."

he stood up abruptly. clearly, he didn't know what to do.

because after very possibly the worst break up of his life, you were standing right there. eight hours of plane on you, hair tied in two plaits and eyes drooping like you hadn't slept all week, but standing there in front of him, actually there.

"what?" he stepped around the settee, following you as you moved closer, nearer the table in the kitchen. "there's no way you're actually here."

you tilted your head. "I'm moving back."

"what?" his eyebrows furrowed.

"I quit my job." you explained, stepping closer to him yet again, not being able to figure out what he was thinking. "I never should have broken up with you. I never should have taken that job from my mum. I love you, and if you'll have me back, I'd like to move back to new york and be with you."

"are you sure?" his voice went low like it had over the phone last week. "you're not going to leave again?"

you shook your head. "never, I promise. I swear, pinkie swear."

chandler's expression softened, the blue in his eyes warming to that look that you knew so well. "honey, you are the only person I've ever wanted to commit to."

for the first time in two weeks, you grinned up at him, happier than ever to be in his arms again. his hands snaked around your waist, pulling you closer as your arms naturally fell around his neck, letting his nose nudge against your neck in a hug for the ages.

"thank god!" joey cried from where he sat on the ottoman. "cause even I was getting sick of him moping about."

the whole group laughed as you let your head fall onto his chest, gripping his sweater as your shoulders shook. chandler swiftly moved his head downwards so his lips were at your ear. his voice breathing against your skin as he spoke. god, you'd missed him.

"i missed you, wanna go celebrate?"

"if celebrating is implying what I think it is... then yes." you murmured back with a grin, hands against his chest and making sure you weren't loud enough for the rest of the group to hear.

chandler pulled back and grinned, taking your hand in his as he turned to the rest of the group. "we're gonna call it a night guys, jet lag is crazy and you know... we've got catching up to do."

"they're gonna go have sex, right?" joey asked, just as the two left, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.

you knew the answer to his question, very easily.

[ellswritings]

Hiii love! I was wondering if u could u could do a c bing imagine where the reader and him are best friends but then chandler gets feelings for her and thinks about confessing but she gets a boyfriend then her boyfriend breaks up with her then chandler tells her how she feels and lotss of fluffy thx alot!

I took some creative liberties with this, but I do hope it lives up to your expectations 🫶🫶

We Can’t Be Friends

Chandler Bing x reader

TW: Idiots in love, Chandler pining, angsty fluff, reader is oblivious.

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

“Is there a reason you’re standing on a ladder in the middle of my apartment building, or is this just a regular Wednesday afternoon for you?” Chandler Bing’s sarcastic voice rings out as he sets the groceries down on his kitchen table.

He finds the scene in front of him highly amusing. His best friend, Y/N L/N, on a seven foot ladder, arms outstretched in the air with a lightbulb in her mouth. She freezes at the sound of his voice, her eyes widening which only makes her position much more funny. Chandler chuckles at her ‘deer in the headlights’ look.

She stops what she’s doing, removing the bulb from her mouth, “Joey said you had a messed up light bulb. I thought I could come and replace it for you guys,” she answers like it’s not a big deal.

Chandler smiles, walking over to her. He cranes his neck up as she’s still pretty high above him, “And what would you have done if said ladder would’ve toppled over and neither of us were home?”

“Called for Monica,” Y/N shrugs. “She says her ears are permanently equipped to hear my voice because I’ve been talking her ear off since the day we met in the second grade,” she says with a devilish grin.

“Why don’t you let me do that?” He holds his hand out for her to come down. “It is my apartment.”

“No,” Y/N replies stubbornly, turning back to the task at hand. “I came over here to do this before either of you would get home. It was supposed to be a surprise, but you coming home early ruined it.”

“I’m sorry my presence is such a burden,” he places a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“If I was a couple steps lower, I’d kick you.”

Chandler smirked, shaking his head. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"Impossible in a 'thank you for replacing our lightbulb' way or a 'please get off the ladder before you break your neck' way?" Y/N quipped, expertly twisting the new bulb into place.

"Somewhere in between," Chandler muttered, stepping back as she climbed down the ladder with practiced ease.

Y/N hopped off the last rung and turned to face him, a triumphant grin lighting up her face. "See? No neck-breaking required. Light’s fixed, and you didn’t even have to lift a finger. You’re welcome."

Chandler let out a soft laugh, folding his arms across his chest. "Thank you, Florence Nightingale of home maintenance. How can I ever repay you? I mean, the heroism it must’ve taken to risk your life for our dim kitchen—truly inspiring."

"You're welcome," she replied, her grin turning devilish. "And as for payment, I’ll take a lifetime supply of sarcasm. Oh, wait—you’ve already got me covered there."

"Touché," Chandler said, a mock-serious expression on his face. "But really, how does someone like you even know how to change a lightbulb? This feels suspiciously like you’re trying to one-up me."

"Someone like me?" Y/N raised an eyebrow, leaning slightly toward him. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"Someone who claims they can’t even put furniture together without an emotional breakdown," he teased, tilting his head.

"That’s different," she argued, her tone playful. "Furniture comes with instructions that read like a secret code. Lightbulbs? They’re simple. Unscrew the bad, screw in the good. Even Joey could manage it."

"Low bar," Chandler said, chuckling.

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile. "Anyway, maybe I’m just full of surprises. Ever think of that?"

Chandler’s smile faltered slightly, his gaze softening. "Yeah," he said quietly. "You definitely are."

Y/N didn’t notice the sudden change in his tone, too busy gathering her bag from the counter. But Chandler noticed. He always noticed. It was part of the problem.

She wasn’t just full of surprises. She was full of life. Full of little quirks and moments that made his chest tighten in the best—and worst—way. Like the way she scrunched her nose when she laughed at one of her own jokes or how her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved.

And it wasn’t just her quirks. It was the way she made him feel like the most important person in the room, even when she was just teasing him about his bad hair days or his overuse of sarcasm. With Y/N, he didn’t have to try to be someone else. She just got him.

But she’d never see him as more than her goofy best friend. Why would she? She was Y/N—gorgeous, funny, brilliant Y/N. And he was just... Chandler.

He shook the thought away as she turned back to him, her expression teasing.

"Alright, Mr. Bing, I’m off to save the world one lightbulb at a time," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

"Don’t let the fame go to your head," he replied, smirking.

"Too late." She paused, her eyes narrowing playfully as she looked at him. "You’re staring at me again. Should I be concerned?"

Chandler blinked, startled. "What? No, I wasn’t staring. I was, uh... admiring your ladder-climbing technique. Very professional."

"Uh-huh," she said, clearly not buying it. "Well, if you need anything else fixed, you know who to call."

"Yeah, I’ll just dial 1-800-WONDER-WOMAN," he joked.

"Exactly," she said with a wink before heading for the door.

Chandler watched her go, his heart doing that annoying flutter thing it always did when she was around. It wasn’t fair. She didn’t even have to try, and she had him completely undone.

As the door clicked shut behind her, Chandler sank onto the couch with a heavy sigh.

She made his heart race. Every look, every smile, every sarcastic jab—it all sent his mind spinning. And it wasn’t just physical, though he’d be lying if he said he didn’t notice how beautiful she was. It was everything about her.

The way she always remembered the little things, like his favorite kind of coffee or the exact way he liked his popcorn during a movie night. The way she could make him laugh even when he felt like the world was falling apart. The way she believed in him, even when he couldn’t believe in himself.

And then there was the way she flirted with him—or at least, what he thought might be flirting. He wasn’t sure. She could just be naturally charming. Either way, it drove him crazy.

"You’re impossible," he muttered under his breath, echoing his earlier words.

But the truth was, he didn’t want her to change. He loved her just the way she was—completely impossible and entirely unforgettable.

He just wished she’d see him the way he saw her.

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

Chandler was lounging on his recliner, flipping through a magazine without much interest, when the door to the apartment burst open. Y/N strolled in, her face practically glowing with excitement.

"Guess what!" she announced, practically bouncing on her heels.

Chandler glanced up lazily. "You’ve finally realized that standing on a ladder unsupervised was reckless and are here to formally apologize?"

She rolled her eyes, dropping her bag onto the counter. "Nope. Try again."

He arched an eyebrow. "You’ve decided to give up your lifelong dream of replacing lightbulbs professionally?"

"Wrong again," Y/N said, plopping down onto the couch with a grin so wide it made Chandler’s stomach twist in a way he tried to ignore. "I have a date tonight!"

The words hit Chandler like a bucket of ice water. His mouth went dry, and his grip tightened on the magazine. He forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "Oh," he said, his voice slightly higher than usual. "That’s... great."

Y/N, oblivious as always, missed the strain in his voice. She tucked her legs under her and beamed at him. "I know, right? I met him at the coffee shop yesterday while I was waiting for Rachel. He was ahead of me in line, and we started chatting because he noticed I was humming along to the music playing. Turns out, he’s a fan of musicals too!"

"Musicals," Chandler repeated, his tone laced with a sarcasm she didn’t catch. "Sounds like Prince Charming."

"Doesn’t he?" she said, her eyes lighting up. "And get this—he didn’t just know Les Misérables and Phantom of the Opera. He brought up Funny Girl! Like, how many guys know Funny Girl?"

"Well, I guess he’s a real unicorn," Chandler muttered under his breath, glancing toward Joey for backup.

Joey, seated at the kitchen counter eating a sandwich, shot Chandler a wide-eyed look that clearly said, What is happening right now? But he stayed quiet, watching the scene unfold like it was the latest episode of a drama he couldn’t look away from.

Y/N kept talking, oblivious to the growing tension in Chandler’s posture. "We ended up talking for like twenty minutes! His name’s Ryan, and he’s a graphic designer. He’s super funny and really easy to talk to. Oh, and he loves coffee almost as much as I do, so that’s already a win."

Chandler forced another smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "Wow. Coffee, musicals, and he’s funny. Did you also find out if he rescues puppies in his free time?"

Y/N laughed, missing the bitterness beneath his words. "I don’t know about puppies, but he did mention volunteering at a local art center. How cool is that?"

"Very cool," Chandler said through gritted teeth, staring down at his magazine like it might offer some kind of distraction.

Y/N leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand. "I mean, I know it’s just one date, but he seems... different, you know? Like, maybe he could actually be someone worth getting to know."

Chandler swallowed hard, the knot in his chest tightening with every word she said. He hated how much he cared. Hated how his chest ached at the thought of her with someone else. But most of all, he hated how obvious it probably was to everyone but her.

"Well, I hope he’s everything you’re looking for," Chandler said, his voice dripping with forced cheerfulness.

"Thanks, Chan," Y/N said, smiling at him. "I’ll let you know how it goes. I’m meeting him at that little Italian place down the street. You know, the one with the candles and the live music? It’s so cute!"

Chandler nodded, barely listening now. His mind was too busy imagining this Ryan guy sitting across from Y/N, making her laugh, holding her hand. The thought made his stomach churn.

Y/N glanced at the clock and jumped up. "I should get going if I want to change and do something with my hair before tonight. Wish me luck!"

"Good luck," Chandler said, his voice flat.

"Not too much luck," Joey added with a grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N laughed and waved them off before heading out the door, leaving the apartment far too quiet in her absence.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Joey turned to Chandler, his eyebrows raised. "Really, dude?"

"What?" Chandler snapped, tossing the magazine onto the coffee table.

"That was brutal," Joey said, shaking his head. "You looked like you were gonna explode every time she said his name."

"I did not," Chandler argued, though his flushed face said otherwise.

Joey pointed a finger at him. "You like her."

Chandler’s jaw tightened. "I do not like her. She’s my best friend. I’m happy for her."

"Yeah, sure," Joey said, leaning back in his chair. "That’s why you were practically growling every time she talked about this Ryan guy."

Chandler groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, fine. Maybe I do like her. But what am I supposed to do? She’s already going on a date with this... graphic designer, coffee-drinking, musical-loving saint."

"Tell her how you feel," Joey said simply.

"Yeah, because that’s worked out so well for me in the past," Chandler muttered.

Joey shrugged. "What’s the worst that could happen? She doesn’t feel the same way? At least you’d know instead of sitting here, torturing yourself."

Chandler sighed, slumping back in his chair. "Yeah, well, I think I’ll stick with torturing myself for now. Thanks for the advice, Dr. Phil."

Joey rolled his eyes, but the conversation ended there. Chandler’s thoughts, however, were far from over.

He didn’t know how long he could keep pretending he didn’t care. But for now, he’d fake a smile and hope she didn’t notice the cracks forming underneath.

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

Chandler stood frozen, his jaw clenched as the laughter from the kitchen spilled into the living room. Rachel and Joey exchanged looks, both of them clearly bracing for the inevitable fallout.

"Seriously, dude," Joey whispered, leaning closer. "You gotta get it together. You’re about one snarky comment away from making things weird."

Chandler ignored him, glaring at the kitchen door like it had personally offended him. When Y/N returned, her date trailing behind her, Chandler’s fake smile reappeared.

"Well, Ryan," he said, crossing his arms, "looks like you’ve survived the first outing with the Great and Wonderful Y/N. How’s it feel? Like scaling Everest?"

Ryan blinked, clearly unsure if that was a joke or not. "Uh... it was great, actually. She’s amazing."

Chandler’s jaw tightened further, but he forced a laugh. "Amazing, right. Of course, she is."

Y/N frowned, catching the edge in his tone. "What’s your problem, Chandler?"

"My problem?" Chandler said, raising his eyebrows in mock innocence. "Oh, I don’t have a problem. I’m thrilled. Ecstatic. Overjoyed that you’ve found someone who appreciates your encyclopedic knowledge of musicals."

Ryan chuckled nervously, glancing between them. "Um... maybe I should—"

"No, you’re fine," Y/N interrupted, turning her glare back to Chandler. "Chandler’s just being... Chandler."

"Yep," Chandler said, his voice tight. "That’s me. Just being me. The guy who’s always here. Always around. Always—"

"Chandler," Rachel hissed from the couch, cutting him off.

Ryan took a cautious step back. "I think I should probably head out. It’s getting late, and..." He gestured vaguely toward the door.

Y/N sighed, her frustration with Chandler momentarily giving way to an apologetic smile for Ryan. "I’ll walk you out."

As soon as the door closed behind them, Rachel smacked Chandler’s arm. "What is wrong with you?"

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Chandler said, feigning nonchalance.

Joey snorted. "Dude, you basically growled at the guy. You’re acting like a jealous ex-boyfriend, except you’ve never even dated her."

Before Chandler could respond, the door opened again, and Y/N stormed back in.

"Okay, what the hell was that?" she demanded, hands on her hips.

Chandler threw up his hands. "What was what? I was perfectly polite."

"Polite?" Y/N repeated, her voice rising. "You were rude, Chandler. Snarky and rude for no reason!"

"I wasn’t being rude," he argued, though even he didn’t sound convinced. "I was just... making conversation."

"Right," she said, narrowing her eyes. "Because making someone feel uncomfortable in my home is your version of small talk?"

"Well, excuse me for not rolling out the red carpet for Mr. Perfect Coffee Shop Guy!" Chandler snapped, his frustration bubbling over.

Y/N froze, staring at him in disbelief. "Are you serious right now? What is your problem with Ryan?"

"I don’t have a problem with him!" Chandler shot back. "I have a problem with... this whole thing!"

She blinked, clearly taken aback. "What thing?"

"This thing where you meet some random guy, and suddenly he’s all you can talk about, like he’s God’s gift to humanity, and—and—" Chandler faltered, running a hand through his hair.

"And what, Chandler?" Y/N demanded, her voice softer now but no less intense. "What are you trying to say?"

Chandler hesitated, the words caught in his throat. He wanted to tell her. Wanted to lay it all out there, to finally say how he felt. But the fear of ruining everything—of losing her—was too strong.

"Nothing," he said finally, his voice flat. "It’s nothing."

Y/N scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. "Unbelievable. You’re acting like a child, Chandler. A jealous, immature child."

"Jealous?" he said, laughing bitterly. "I’m not jealous. I just think maybe you should be a little more careful about who you bring into your life."

Her eyes narrowed, and her voice turned icy. "Thanks for the unsolicited advice, Dad. I think I can handle my own life."

"Fine," Chandler snapped. "Then go ahead. Date him. Marry him. Have his stupid little musical-loving babies. See if I care!"

Y/N’s face flushed with anger. "You know what, Chandler? Forget it. I don’t have the energy for this." She turned on her heel and stormed toward her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

The apartment was silent for a moment before Rachel let out a low whistle. "Wow. That was... something."

Chandler groaned, collapsing onto the couch. "I blew it, didn’t I?"

Joey nodded solemnly. "Oh yeah. Big time."

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You are such an idiot, Chandler. Why didn’t you just tell her how you feel?"

"Because it’s not that simple!" he protested.

"Actually, it kind of is," Joey said. "You like her. She likes you. But instead of saying something, you just make everything awkward."

"She doesn’t like me," Chandler said, his voice defeated.

"How do you know?" Rachel challenged.

"Because she’s out there, dating other people!"

Rachel sighed, sitting next to him. "Chandler, she’s dating other people because she doesn’t think you’re interested. You hide behind sarcasm and jokes, but she’s not a mind reader. If you don’t tell her, how is she supposed to know?"

Joey nodded. "She’s not gonna wait around forever, man."

Chandler leaned back, closing his eyes. He knew they were right, but that didn’t make it any easier. He’d spent so long convincing himself that Y/N could never feel the same way, and now he didn’t know how to undo it.

"Maybe tomorrow," he said finally.

Rachel rolled her eyes. "You keep saying that, and one day, tomorrow’s going to be too late."

But Chandler didn’t respond. Instead, he stared at Y/N’s closed door, wishing he had the courage to knock and finally tell her the truth.

            »»————-　⚜　————-««

The apartment was quiet except for the hum of the TV, where Joey was flipping through channels aimlessly. Chandler sat slouched in his recliner, arms crossed, looking miserable.

Y/N stood outside the door, clutching a tin of cookies to her chest. She had spent hours baking them—a peace offering after their blowout argument last week. It wasn’t like her to let things fester, especially with Chandler. But every time she thought about his weird behavior and the biting sarcasm that had set her off, she’d hesitated.

Finally, though, she decided enough was enough. Taking a deep breath, Y/N pushed the door open and stepped inside. She opened her mouth to announce her arrival but froze when she heard Chandler’s voice.

"You know, Joey, I really screwed this up," Chandler was saying, his voice low and defeated.

Joey glanced up from the TV, alarm flashing across his face when he saw Y/N by the door. He gestured wildly, trying to signal Chandler, but Chandler was too lost in his thoughts to notice.

"I mean, what was I supposed to do?" Chandler continued, throwing up his hands. "She comes in here, all perfect and funny and amazing, and I just... freak out. I can’t be around her without feeling like my heart’s going to explode. And then she goes on a date, and I act like a total jerk because I’m—" He stopped, groaning. "Because I’m in love with her. There, I said it. I’m in love with her, and it’s the absolute worst."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her grip tightening on the tin of cookies.

Joey, still frantically gesturing, tried again. "Uh, dude—"

"What, Joey?" Chandler snapped, glancing over.

Joey’s eyes widened even further, darting toward Y/N.

It clicked. Chandler’s face drained of color, his expression twisting in horror. "She’s right behind me, isn’t she?"

Joey nodded rapidly.

Chandler turned slowly, like a man bracing for impact. When his eyes landed on Y/N, who stood frozen in the doorway, her cheeks flushed and her eyes wide, he let out a weak laugh. "Uh... surprise?"

Y/N stepped closer, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You’re in love with me?"

Chandler’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. "I, uh... okay, yes. But before you say anything, let me just explain—"

"Explain what, Chandler?" she interrupted, her voice surprisingly soft. "That you’ve been acting weird because you have feelings for me?"

"Yes! Exactly!" he said, seizing on her words like a lifeline. "I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t want to mess things up, and then you started dating Ryan, and I lost it, and—"

Y/N didn’t let him finish.

She closed the distance between them in two quick strides, grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him.

For a moment, Chandler was too stunned to respond. But then, as the realization hit, he melted into the kiss, his hands hesitantly coming up to rest on her waist.

When they finally broke apart, Y/N smirked up at him. "You know," she said, her voice teasing, "we could’ve saved a lot of time and effort if you’d just told me this sooner."

Chandler blinked at her, still trying to process what had just happened. "Yeah, ditto."

From the couch, Joey let out an enthusiastic clap. "Finally!"

Chandler and Y/N turned to glare at him in unison.

"Shut up, Joey," they said together before bursting into laughter.

Chandler rested his forehead against Y/N’s, his smile soft and genuine. "So, you’re not mad?"

"Mad?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow. "Chandler, I’ve been waiting for you to say something for months. Do you have any idea how many times I almost kissed you first?"

"You almost kissed me?" Chandler repeated, his eyes wide. "When?"

"Remember the night we stayed up watching bad horror movies, and you let me fall asleep on your shoulder?"

Chandler nodded, a grin spreading across his face. "Wait—you wanted to kiss me then?"

Y/N shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Maybe."

He laughed, pulling her closer. "Well, I guess I’ll have to make up for lost time."

Y/N smiled, leaning into him. "You better."

Joey cleared his throat loudly, reminding them he was still there. "So, uh, are we gonna talk about how you’ve been in love with each other this whole time, or...?"

Chandler groaned, burying his face in Y/N’s shoulder. "Why is he like this?"

Y/N chuckled, wrapping an arm around him. "He’s got a point."

"Of course he does," Chandler mumbled.

"Thanks, man!" Joey said brightly.

Y/N shook her head, looking up at Chandler. "So, now what?"

Chandler grinned. "Now, I stop being an idiot and take you out on a real date."

She raised an eyebrow. "Does this real date involve cookies?"

He glanced at the tin still sitting on the counter. "It does now."

Joey stood, clapping them both on the shoulder. "I’m proud of you, man. And just so you know, I called dibs on being your best man at the wedding."

"Joey!" Chandler said, his face turning red.

Y/N just laughed, lacing her fingers through Chandler’s. "One step at a time."

Chandler smiled down at her, feeling a warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time. "Yeah. One step at a time."

As they sat on the couch together, sharing cookies and teasing Joey, Chandler realized that for the first time in months, everything felt right

[hayleythesugarbowl]

CHANDLER HCS PLEASE 🙏😭 i know you have some pretty popular Joey hcs and i would love some for Chandler Bing i love him so much thank you in advance

chandler bing x reader headcanons

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • f•r•i•e•n•d•s masterlist ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

a/n: happy to give you the chandler content you deserve. i imagine this to take place in s1. hope you enjoy!! 💌🍒

edit!! i changed the picture because i found a more aesthetic one lol but same post 😌

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

dating chandler would include…

so when he first saw you he thought you were way out of his league 

but joey convinced him to ask you out 

and you found his awkwardness adorable 

but you had to say ‘yes, I’ll go out with you’ a few times before he believed you 

‘are you sure? because don’t worry if you’re rejecting me, i’m good at this part.’

he took you to an aquarium for your first date because he had free tickets

(‘you know, i’ve never really seen the appeal of these things. i mean, do you think in another world fish go pay to see us walk around in our homes?’ you laughed at that.)

and one of the tanks broke and soaked you both

after giving you his jacket and walking you back to your apartment he said:

‘let me guess, you’ll call me?’

‘what? you think one wet, fishy date is going to stop me from seeing you again?’

‘from your tone im guessing no, in which case I’m thrilled and I’ll call you as soon as i get to my apartment.’

you kissed him as he stood there blushing 

and you were all he could talk about for weeks. 

he found ways to bring you up in every conversation 

‘speaking off coffee, you know (y/n)…” 

he loves cuddling with you

and watching tv in his chair together

which started because joey didn’t want anyone else siting in his chair 

he brags about you all the time to his friends

joey flirts with you whenever you go back to chandler’s apartment 

but it’s all in good fun and joey is thrilled to see chandler so happy 

chandler asks you for fashion advice constantly 

‘ok be honest: do i look like my grandmother in this?’

he gets so easily flustered like 😫 ajhfsfagajslf 

‘you’re so sexy’

‘i—you—you think I’m sexy? i mean, um, i—i just made it un-sexy didn’t i?’

he even quit smoking for you 

he needs reassurance that you love him and that he’s good enough for you all the time 

when you’re at work or he’s at work he calls you literally every hour just to say ‘hi’

he asks rachel and monica and phoebe for advice on how to please you 

you become really close with all of his friends and they love you so much 

chandler can always make you smile or laugh even on your worst days 

and he enjoys doing so

you play with his hair all the time

‘my parents? are you sure we don’t want to go see your family for the holidays?’

he said i love you first 

and then panicked that you weren’t going to say it too, as he tried to backtrack 

but you assured him that you loved him so much 

when you first started going out, he knew that he really liked you 

but as time went on he found himself falling more and more in love with you 

and that scared him 

until he realized that he was ready. that he wanted to be in a long-term relationship with you

maybe spend the rest of his life with you 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope this is what you wanted. i love writing for chandler so much. also rip matthew perry 🤍

[perrywinkleeeee]

chandler bing x reader (whose in the group)

The One with the Cookie Crumbs

Author’s Note ❥ I know I took too long before I finished this, and I apologize. I’ve been busy for the past days from school works and all. But I really hope this is what you wanted and If I didn’t fulfill your request, I apologize, I would be willing to try again.

paring(s) 𖨆♡𖨆 ⁑ chandler bing x fem!reader

Monica Geller x reader (sister)

warning(s) ᕯ none

Word count ⚘ 2.439k

“Ugh! Living with you is like being seventeen and having to share the same damn room all over again!”

Yelling was heard in apartment 20. The Gellers got into the scariest dispute in the entire building when they started arguing.

“What's so hard about eating your cookie without leaving crumbs everywhere?” The other Geller yelled back, which infuriated the other one. “Monica, I've had enough of this crap! And if I had a place to stay, I would move out!”

“Then go ahead, Y/N!” Monica snapped her head at Y/N, as if she were already kicking her out of their apartment. Y/N was taken aback by Monica’s abrupt outburst and felt a a knot in her throat. She never liked arguing with her sister. Y/N lowered her arms from her chest, her eyes wide open. The entire gang was gathered outside their apartment door, listening in on the heated argument that had been going on for 10 minutes. Just as Ross have had enough of all the yelling, when the apartment fell silent, he went barging through the door, knowing his sisters so well that it was best for them to separate for the time being. Whenever they get into a huge fight, it would take days, weeks, or even months for them to come to terms and be able to talk to each other again. “Y/N, it's fine. Go to your room.” Ross accompanied her to her room before turning back to Monica, whose face was now flushed from anger. Y/N strained her eyes and replied, “Fine.” through gritting her teeth, before walking inside her room.

“Again, Mon. Really?” Ross had his hands on his hips before deciding to approach his sister, whom he believed was constantly overreacting to the smallest details and mistakes Y/N causes. “Why can’t you two get along?” The frustrated eldest couldn't stop his sisters from constantly squabbling. “Hello? I handle the majority of the cleaning here.” Monica scoffed, rolling her eyes at Ross.

“Does everything have to be clean for you?” Ross made it obvious that he doesn’t want them to argue all the time, let alone have them broken up because of the tiniest mistakes. “Do you not know me? I want everything to be neat and ordered, yet she screws everything up.”

Monica rolled her eyes and crossed her arms in front of her chest as Ross said, “I think you two should stay away from each other for a while.” She doesn’t want to be separated from her sister, but the continual arguments is killing all of them. “Yeah, right. How are we supposed to do that?” Monica mockedly stuck her tongue out and turned away from Ross.

“I’ll go.” Y/N suddenly popped out of her room, a bag across her shoulder, and another in hand. With a concerned look on her face, Monica turned her body toward her just to see how serious she was. “I’m moving out.”

“What?” Monica, who genuinely doesn't want her sister to move out, kept a worried tone but tries her best not to break character. “You said I should go ahead, then I’m moving out.”

“But where will you go?” Ross intervened in the middle before Y/N began to walk towards the door. “Anywhere but here.” She looked at the two for a minute, but tears started to blur her eyes. “Y/N, I didn’t mean for you to move out. All I'm saying is that you two should know how to get along when it comes to— you could stay with me for a little while, it’s like you’re taking a cool off of each other. But you don’t want to go apartment hunting again, right?” Even if Ross did his best to come up with something that would entice Y/N to stay, it seems like she had enough of Monica acting in her typical manner.

The door swung open as a few footsteps approached, and without hesitation, Chandler Bing, the one and only sarcastic friend offered, “I’ll take her.” Looking inside the apartment like a lost puppy. “What?” Ross and Monica exclaimed in unison. “That settles it then.” Y/N exited the apartment without saying anything, walking past Chandler to open the door to the other apartment in front of theirs. She only ever did that to see how her sister was going to react. And she was pretty sure she saw how upset she was.

Chandler gazed at Ross and Monica before quietly closing the door. “Are you really gonna take her in?” Joey asked in confusion. “Well, if they’re really in bad terms right now… I think it’s best if she stays with us?” Chandler shrugged his shoulders, unsure now whether Joey approved or not. “It’s not okay with you, is it?”

“No, no. I’m entirely fine with it. But we only have two bedrooms in there. Where’s she gonna sleep?” Joey raised his eyebrows and asked. Chandler's thoughts told him he needed to talk to Y/N first before anything else.

Before Joey and Chandler entered apartment 19, there was a loud thump, that alerted them, and when they did, Joey and Chandler hurried in to find Y/N on the floor, bawling her eyes out.

Chandler came over to sit with her on the floor to try and comfort her in any ways he can. “I just can’t stand how she bosses me around. But she’s still my sister. And I don’t want to move out of the apartment.” Her bags were flung on the ground, having to consider what she would do now that she had fled Monica’s apartment. “Maybe I just need time from all of the screaming.”

Chandler enveloped her in his arms and looked at Joey, who was standing in front of them. “That’s okay. You can stay here for as long as you need to.” Chandler reassures her quietly before pointing for Joey to retrieve the box of tissues from the tabletop. “It’s just so stupid to fight over the simplest things!”

“You’re gonna be fine. Chandler chuckled. “I could just sleep in the barcalounger.” Y/N withdrew her grip from him and finally raised her puffy eyes to gaze at him. “What? No, no. I don’t want to kick you out of your own room. You know, I could just stay at Ross’ apartment.”

Ross entered the apartment at that very moment, searching for Y/N. When Ross noticed them lying on the ground, he glanced confusedly at Chandler. “Hey, I talked to Monica. She’s said that you should just come back.” Ross announced which caused Y/N to roll her eyes. “I’m staying here. That’s final.” Ignoring the reactions of the other three men, she gathered her belongings back and entered inside Chandler's room.

“Well, guess she’s staying in my room.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° • ☆ .　 .

“Come on, you gotta talk to her.”

Ross had been begging Monica and Y/N for weeks, but it was difficult to get them to communicate. When Y/N eventually gave up and said, "Okay," Ross's eyes lit up. "Next week." Y/N continued to sip her coffee while reclining comfortably on the couch. "C'mon, Y/N. How are you going to make up?"

“I don't know, ask her.”

Chandler sat down next to Y/N as soon as he entered Central Perk. “Besides, Chandler is taking good care of me.” She turned to face Chandler and placed her head on his shoulder. “What will it take for you to forgive her?” Ross was down on one knee, begging Y/N to forgive their sister. “If she was the one asking me right now maybe I would have forgiven her. So stop apologizing for her, Ross. Nothing’s gonna change.”

“What’s not gonna change?” The three of them looked over at Monica, who had just walked into the coffee shop. Y/N grinned as she glanced at Chandler and then at her watch. “Oh, would you look at that! It’s time to go to work.” Y/N gave a mocking smirk before getting up from the couch. “Y/N, you're unemployed.” Ross stated the obvious.

“Working doesn't require having a job.” She grabbed her purse and went out of the coffee shop, knowing Monica was there. Although she didn't want to ignore her sister, but she was too upset to even look at Monica.

“Hey.” Chandler suddenly wrapped an arm around her shoulder, following her outside. “Hey,” she responded as she peered out into the streets of New York. “Do you wanna go back and order pizza? Hang out or something.” Chandler suggested, fiddling with his sleeves. “That’s a great idea right there,” Y/N said, pointing at his head as she dashed away, Chandler by her side.

Back in the apartment, Y/N and Chandler relaxed on the barcalounger with the lights off and the television on while Joey was not around, because of how Joey doesn’t want to share his barcalounger with anyone. They were laughing and eating together, enjoying one other's company. Y/N never looked for Chandler's presence; she was content with being friends and knowing Chandler as her brother's college roommate and best friend. Although now she learned to miss his presence and appreciates how he’ll try to cheer her up the best he could. She thought of when she could just break the partition that was keeping them apart after developing unexpected feelings for him.

Y/N had been staying with Chandler and Joey for about a month because of how her and Monica were still mad at each other. But she thought that maybe she’ll stay in apartment 19 permanently. "Can I ask you a question that will hopefully not make you uncomfortable?" Chandler tossed a chip into his mouth as he turned to face Y/N in the barcalounger. "Yeah, okay." Y/N got the remote, turned down the television so she could hear Chandler. "Are you planning to move out if you and Monica were to make up?” Chandler gazed down at his palm, waiting for her response. "I'm not sure. Well, I do know, and my answer is, no. But if you want me to move out then, so be it.”

"No, no. That's the thing. I don't want you to leave." Y/N, surprised and confused, gave him an uncertain smile. "Really? Why?"

“You know, I love having you here. We've never really had the opportunity to spend time together like this. You’re fun, and we have similar interests." It was as if he could read her mind, assuming that she would be happy to stay. Chandler swallowed a lump in his throat and turned his entire body towards her. “I don’t know, if this is gonna mess up everything we have right now, I only have one shot at this but… I genuinely like you, Y/N. As in, above and above friends. Sometimes I just want to tell you that so bad, maybe not have to put a pillow barrier between us on the bed. I don’t know, I’m sorry. Maybe I should just stop.” Chandler's smile never faded; instead, he avoided eye contact and slumped into the barcalounger. He feared he had made Y/N uncomfortable, who had been unable to speak up until now, she stood up and walked in front of Chandler and smile down at him.

She climbed on top of the barcalounger he was sitting on only to grip his face and close the distance between them. For Chandler, it was a miracle. And this was the moment they had been waiting for. "I would love to stay here with you, Chandler Bing." She took a time to stare at his gorgeous face before closing the gap once again.

“Ahem…”

Chandler choked on his own saliva when he noticed a figure next to them. “What in the world?” Ross exclaimed, causing Y/N to scurry off of Chandler's lap. Monica appeared from behind Ross with a plate of cookies. "Someone's here to talk to you."

“Hi, can we talk?” Monica asked, extending the plate of cookies to Y/N. "Only if Chandler and I can step outside to talk." Ross shot him a death gaze as he led Chandler outside.

Monica set the meal on the table while Y/N settled down. "Okay, so…"

“I understand that you’re upset. And I don’t know if you’re willing to come back to our apartment. But I wanna say I’m sorry. I’m sorry that’s I’m such a pain in the butt whenever you make tiny mistakes and I hated the way I treated you when you make little mistakes. I really didn't like the way I handled it. I'm sorry I screamed at you or even threw you out of the apartment. And I realized that it’s not worth losing a sister because of my obsession with everything being spotless. So, I just want everything to go back as it was. Can you forgive me?” Monica brought Y/N a glass of milk that she magically snatched from thin air.

"Thanks for the freshly baked cookies, Mon." But I don't really need this to forgive you. I forgive you since you have apologized. And I'm sorry, too. I understand that I'm a little—no, really—messy, but I still love you. So I don't want to lose you over cookie crumbs." Y/N put the milkglass down and put her hands together. "You do want to go back, right?” Monica hesitantly asked.

“Yeah, well. If you want me to.”

“I kinda have a visitor.”

“Who?”

“Rachel, Rachel Green?”

“Rachel?!”

“She took over your room.”

Y/N heaved a sigh and smiled. "Well, that's okay. "I'll stay here with Chandler." She stood up from the barcalounger and peered toward the door. "I'll be fine here." The door opened, revealing Ross and Chandler. "Alright, then, I'll see you." Monica and Ross proceeded to the door. "See you, Ross." Y/N waved to him. "Don't!" Ross gestured and shut the door, leaving Y/N and Chandler alone again. "You and Monica made up. But I guess Ross isn't too happy." Chandler wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. "He'll get used to it." Y/N moved to face him and kissed his lips. "So, are you going back?"

"No, I'll stay here with you. Without the pillows between." As she clutched onto his neck, the scent of his perfume drew her into his embrace. "Is Monica going to be okay now that the other room is empty?"

"Yeah, someone took over."

"Who?"

"Rachel…"

Chandler looked at her confused before recognizing who she was talking about.

"Rachel Green?!”

[wittyandobsessed]

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐦

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | Chandler Bing x Reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 | break up angst.

𝘈 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘯 𝘝𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦’𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘳 𝘉𝘪𝘯𝘨—𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦.

There’s nothing more satisfying than looking at yourself in the mirror and truly feeling beautiful. That warm, radiant feeling of confidence, of being comfortable in your own skin. That quiet yet undeniable sense of self-love. Of knowing that you are loved.

And that’s exactly how you felt after spending over an hour getting ready for Valentine’s Day. Every step of your routine had been deliberate, each detail carefully perfected. Your hair, freshly styled, framed your face in soft, flawless waves. Your outfit—classy yet subtly alluring—was the perfect balance between elegant and enticing, revealing just enough to captivate without being too much. Your makeup was impeccable, enhancing your features just the way you liked, highlighting your eyes and giving your lips a soft, irresistible glow.

You felt beautiful. And more than that, you felt excited.

Excited for the evening ahead. Excited to see your boyfriend’s reaction when he laid eyes on you.

The two of you had been together for almost eight months now, and this was your first Valentine’s Day as a couple. Lately, things had been a little tough—his workload had increased, and with his long hours, you hadn’t been able to spend as much time together as before. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, just life pulling you in different directions. But tonight… tonight, you hoped things would be different. You wanted this night to be special, a chance to reconnect, to remind each other why you had fallen in love in the first place.

Just as you were about to check the time, the sudden ringing of the phone pulled you from your thoughts. You stepped out of your bedroom and hurried to answer it. The apartment was quiet—Rachel and Monica, your roommates, were both out for the evening. Monica was working late at her restaurant, and Rachel had a date of her own.

You picked up the receiver, smoothing your dress instinctively before speaking.

“Geller apartment,” you answered, a teasing lilt in your voice, already guessing who it might be.

And then you heard it—the familiar voice on the other end of the line.

Your boyfriend.

The moment you recognized his tone, something in your chest tightened with anticipation. His voice was warm at first, familiar and steady, like the comfort of slipping into your favorite sweater.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his tone.

A small, delighted shiver ran down your spine. “Hey, you,” you replied, leaning against the kitchen counter, twirling the phone cord around your fingers. “Are you on your way?”

There was a brief pause, the kind that stretched just a second too long, making something in your gut tighten.

“Actually… that’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” His voice had lost that teasing warmth. There was something else there now—hesitation. Guilt.

Your fingers froze against the phone cord. “Okay…?”

He sighed, the sound heavy, loaded with unspoken words. “I don’t think I can make it tonight.”

Your heart sank. “Oh,” you said softly, swallowing the disappointment that immediately formed a lump in your throat. “Is it work again?”

He hesitated. “Yeah… yeah, it’s work.”

But something in his voice didn’t sound right. It wasn’t just exhaustion. It wasn’t frustration from a long shift or an unexpected late meeting. It was something else entirely—something colder, more distant.

You pressed your lips together, willing yourself to stay calm, to be understanding. You knew how demanding his job was. You knew how stressed he had been lately. But you had hoped—just for tonight—that things would be different.

“I get it,” you said, forcing a small, forgiving smile even though he couldn’t see it. “I just wish you’d told me sooner. I spent all this time getting ready.” You laughed lightly, trying to mask the ache creeping into your voice. “You should see me. I look amazing.”

He didn’t laugh.

Another long pause. And then, he sighed again.

That was when you knew.

Your stomach twisted, your grip on the phone tightening. “What’s wrong?” you asked, your voice quieter now, cautious.

“Listen…” He exhaled sharply, as if trying to find the right words, as if trying to brace himself for what he was about to say. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About us. About everything.”

Everything. That word sent a cold, creeping dread through you.

“Okay,” you said carefully. “And?”

“I just… I don’t know if this is working anymore.”

The world around you stilled.

The soft hum of the refrigerator. The faint ticking of the clock on the wall. The distant sound of a car honking outside.

It all faded into the background, drowned out by the thundering sound of your own heartbeat.

“What?” you breathed, not sure if you had even spoken the word out loud.

He hesitated. You could hear it in the way his breathing changed, the way his voice dropped even lower. “I don’t think we should keep doing this,” he finally said.

The words sliced through you like ice.

Your throat tightened. “Are you—are you breaking up with me? Over the phone?”

He said nothing. That silence was worse than any confirmation.

Anger flared up, hot and sharp, burning through the devastation. “You’re serious,” you whispered, gripping the phone so tightly your knuckles turned white. “You’re actually breaking up with me. On Valentine’s Day.”

“I didn’t plan it like this,” he muttered, sounding frustrated. “It’s just… things haven’t felt right for a while. I’ve been pulling away, and you’ve noticed it, haven’t you?”

You felt like the floor had been ripped out from under you.

Maybe you had noticed the distance. The missed calls, the shorter conversations, the way he had started canceling plans more often. But you had convinced yourself it was just stress. A rough patch. Something you would work through together.

Not this. Never this.

“You should have talked to me,” you said, your voice breaking despite your best efforts to hold it together. “We could have fixed this. We could have—”

“I don’t think we can,” he cut in, firm but sad. “I don’t think I want to.”

And that was the final blow. It was over.

The weight of it crushed you, stealing the breath from your lungs. The tears were already burning at the edges of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.

Not while he was still on the line.

Your heart ached, your chest tight with the unbearable sting of betrayal. You had been so excited for tonight. For him. For the future you thought you still had together. And now, in the span of a single conversation, he had shattered it all.

“I can’t believe you,” you whispered, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you’re doing this like this.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. And maybe he meant it. Maybe he really did.

But sorry didn’t change anything.

Sorry wouldn’t take away the way your chest ached. Sorry wouldn’t erase the fact that you had spent all this time getting ready for a night that would never happen. Sorry wouldn’t make up for the fact that he had ripped your heart out over the phone, as if you weren’t even worth the effort of saying goodbye in person.

You swallowed hard, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

“Goodbye,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

And then, before he could say anything else, before he could break you even further—

You hung up.

The silence in the apartment became unbearable. It pressed in on you, heavy and suffocating, wrapping around your chest like a vice.

For a few seconds, you just stood there, frozen in place, staring at nothing. Your hands trembled, fingers still curled as if gripping the phone. The weight of what had just happened settled over you like a crushing wave, and before you could stop it—

Your knees gave out.

You collapsed onto the floor, your back against the kitchen cabinets, the cold tiles pressing against your skin through the thin fabric of your dress. And then, without warning, the sobs broke free.

It wasn’t just crying—it was devastation.

Deep, shaking sobs that racked your entire body, making your shoulders tremble, making your chest feel like it was caving in. You clutched at yourself as if you could somehow hold the pieces together, but it was useless. Everything inside you felt shattered beyond repair.

Gone was the confidence you had felt just minutes ago, the excitement, the anticipation of seeing him.

Gone was the glow in your cheeks, the happiness that had filled your heart when you thought tonight was going to be special.

Now, you felt ruined.

Your reflection in the nearby glass cabinet caught your eye, and the sight of yourself only made it worse. Your mascara had already begun to smudge, black streaks trailing down your cheeks. Your lipstick was slightly smeared from the way you had pressed your lips together, trying to keep yourself from crying. The beautiful makeup you had taken so much time perfecting now felt meaningless, useless.

You had spent over an hour making yourself look perfect for a man who didn’t even want you anymore.

A broken sob tore from your throat, and you curled in on yourself, hugging your knees, your body shaking from the force of your grief.

It wasn’t just the breakup.

It was the way he had done it. Over the phone. As if you didn’t deserve more. As if you weren’t even worth a real goodbye.

And the worst part?

A voice in the back of your mind whispered that maybe—just maybe—you really weren’t.

Maybe you weren’t enough to be loved. Maybe you had done something wrong, something that had made him pull away, something that had made him stop wanting you.

You had tried so hard.

You had wanted so badly to make him happy, to make this relationship work, to be the kind of person he would choose—every single time.

And yet, in the end, he hadn’t chosen you at all.

A fresh wave of tears spilled down your cheeks, hot and relentless.

You were wrecked.

A mess of heartbreak, smeared makeup, and shattered self-worth.

For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel beautiful.

You felt disposable. Unwanted. Like love had looked at you, weighed your worth, and decided you simply weren’t enough.

The sound of the apartment door opening barely registered over the sound of your ragged breathing and muffled sobs. You were too lost in your heartbreak, too consumed by the overwhelming weight of it all, to notice the familiar figure stepping inside.

“Monica? You home?”

Chandler’s voice rang out casually as he stepped into the kitchen, his focus set entirely on his mission to steal—borrow—some milk from Monica’s fridge. He had barely made it two steps in before he froze.

His eyes landed on you.

Slumped on the kitchen floor. Your arms wrapped around yourself. Your makeup smeared, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps. Your whole body shaking with silent, heart-wrenching sobs.

Instantly, every trace of humor disappeared from his face.

“Whoa, whoa—hey,” he said, his voice full of concern as he crossed the room in seconds, dropping to his knees beside you without hesitation. “What—what happened? Are you okay?”

It was a stupid question. Of course, you weren’t okay. But he didn’t know what else to say.

You could barely lift your head to look at him. Your throat was so tight, your chest so heavy, that words felt impossible. Instead, you just shook your head, another choked sob escaping as you curled further into yourself.

Chandler’s heart clenched at the sight of you like this. He had seen you upset before—annoyed, stressed, even teary-eyed after a bad day. But this? This was something different. This was raw. Shattered.

Without thinking, he reached out, one hand settling on your back, the other gently gripping your arm. “Hey, hey,” he murmured, his voice softer now, quieter, careful. “Come here.”

You didn’t resist as he pulled you into him, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his chest like it was the most natural thing in the world. And maybe it was.

Because he was Chandler. Your best friend. The person who had been there for you through everything—the good, the bad, and now, whatever this was.

You clung to him, burying your face against his shoulder as the sobs kept coming, wracking through you like they had no intention of stopping. His grip on you tightened just a little, his hand moving up and down your back in slow, soothing strokes.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, resting his chin lightly on top of your head. “You’re okay. I got you.”

For a while, he just held you, letting you cry, letting you fall apart as much as you needed to. He didn’t rush you, didn’t try to force you to talk before you were ready.

But eventually, when your sobs had quieted into shaky breaths and your grip on his shirt loosened just a little, he finally asked, “What happened?”

You inhaled sharply, sniffling, your fingers curling into the fabric of his sweater. You couldn’t bring yourself to lift your head just yet, but your voice—small, broken—managed to whisper the words.

“He broke up with me.”

Chandler stiffened beneath you. A beat of silence. And then, “He what?”

You nodded weakly against his chest, fresh tears pricking at your eyes. “Over the phone,” you added, voice cracking, like saying it out loud made it all the more humiliating.

Chandler pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, his expression shifting from stunned disbelief to something that looked suspiciously close to anger.

“Over the phone?” he repeated, like he needed to confirm that someone had actually been that much of a coward. "On Valentine's day?"

You nodded again, rubbing at your ruined makeup with the back of your hand, feeling utterly miserable. “I was so excited for tonight,” you admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I got all dressed up, I—I thought we were okay, but… he said he didn’t think it was working anymore.”

Chandler’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t the kind of guy to throw punches, but right now, he was seriously considering making an exception.

“That son of a—” He stopped himself, taking a deep breath before he could fully unleash his rage. Instead, he focused on you, the way you were still curled in on yourself, the way you looked like you wanted to disappear.

“Hey,” he said, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Listen to me. You did nothing wrong, okay? This? This is on him. Not you.”

You let out a shaky breath, but the doubt still clung to your mind. “Then why wasn’t I enough?”

Chandler exhaled sharply, like the question physically pained him. “Oh, come on,” he said, shifting closer, gripping your hands in his. “You are so enough. You’re, like… excessively enough. You’re funny, you’re smart, you’re—very pretty, by the way, even with the, uh… mascara situation.” He gestured vaguely at your tear-streaked face, attempting the tiniest smile.

Despite yourself, you let out a weak, breathy laugh.

“There she is,” he said, squeezing your hands. “That’s my girl.”

The warmth in his voice made your chest ache in a different way—less painful, more comforting. He wasn’t saying these things to make you feel better. He was saying them because he meant them.

And for the first time since your world had shattered, you didn’t feel completely alone.

Chandler watched you for a moment, his expression soft with concern. Then, without a word, he reached out and gently brushed his thumb under your eyes, wiping away the streaks of mascara that had run down your cheeks. His touch was careful, as if trying not to break you any further, and the warmth of his skin against yours was unexpectedly soothing.

“There,” he said, tilting his head as he studied you. “Still gorgeous.”

You let out a small, broken laugh, shaking your head. “I look like a mess.”

He scoffed. “Yeah, okay, sure. A mess in a really unfairly hot dress.”

A faint blush crept up your cheeks, but before you could respond, Chandler’s gaze flickered over your outfit again, and his smile faltered slightly.

That’s when it fully hit him.

You had gotten all dressed up for tonight.

For him.

For a Valentine’s Day date that was never going to happen.

And that bastard—he had let you get all excited, had let you wait for him, had let you go through all of this only to rip it away over the damn phone.

Something in Chandler’s chest tightened. There was no way in hell he was letting this night go to waste.

No way in hell.

He suddenly stood up, brushing off his pants, and then—before you could protest—he reached down, extending his hand toward you.

“Come on,” he said. “Get up.”

You blinked, confused. “What?”

“Get up,” he repeated, wiggling his fingers impatiently. “I am not letting that idiot ruin your Valentine’s Day. No way am I letting you sit here all night crying over him. Not happening.”

Hesitantly, you reached out, letting him pull you to your feet. His grip was firm, steady, like he was grounding you in place.

“But—”

“No buts,” he cut you off. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to go fix your makeup. Maybe splash some water on your face, make yourself feel fresh again. And then…” He gave a dramatic pause, grinning. “You, my friend, are going to have your Valentine’s Day. Because I’m giving it to you.”

Your lips parted slightly in shock. “Chandler…”

“I mean, sure, I may not be mister romantic candlelight dinner guy,” he continued, waving a hand, “but I am funny, I doclean up nicely, and most importantly, I would never break up with someone over the phone like a total douchebag.”

Your heart ached, but this time, it wasn’t with pain—it was with something warmer, something almost hopeful.

“You… you don’t have to do that,” you murmured, even as a small part of you wanted to say yes.

“Uh, yes, I do,” Chandler said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It is now my duty as your best friend to make sure you have at least one good memory from tonight. So go. Freshen up. I’ll be here.”

You hesitated, looking into his eyes, and all you saw was sincerity.

No pity. No obligation. Just Chandler, doing what he did best—being there for you when you needed him the most.

Slowly, you exhaled, then nodded. “Okay.”

“Atta girl,” he said, giving your shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “Now, hurry up before I change my mind and start eating ice cream straight from the tub in Monica’s fridge. I will do it.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile playing at your lips as you turned toward the bathroom, already feeling lighter than you had just moments ago.

By the time you stepped out of the bathroom, your makeup refreshed and your composure somewhat restored, you expected to see Chandler still waiting casually in the kitchen, hands in his pockets, maybe cracking a joke to lighten the mood.

What you didn’t expect was for him to have changed.

Gone was the usual sweater and slacks—he had put on a crisp button-down shirt, a nice jacket, and had even attempted to smooth his hair into something presentable. It wasn’t fancy by any means, but for Chandler Bing, it was a clear effort.

And that meant something.

He glanced up when he saw you and immediately gave a small, approving nod. “Alright, now you’re ready to break some hearts,” he said, gesturing vaguely at you. “Not that you weren’t before, but, you know, minus the tragic mascara streaks.”

You gave a small, self-conscious smile. “Thanks.”

He exhaled, shifting slightly on his feet. “Okay, so… I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s dangerous.”

“Ha ha,” he deadpanned. “But seriously, I refuse to let that guy ruin your night. I mean, you got all dressed up, you looked forward to this, and now what? You’re just supposed to sit here and cry into a pint of ice cream?”

You shrugged, though the thought of spending the rest of the night alone in your room had definitely crossed your mind.

“Yeah, no. Not happening,” Chandler said firmly. “So here’s what we’re gonna do: you and me? We’re going out.”

You blinked. “Chandler—”

“No, don’t argue,” he interrupted. “I don’t have reservations anywhere because, shockingly, this plan only came to me five minutes ago. But I do know a place where we can eat real food, talk, and not have to sit through some gross couple feeding each other bites of overpriced filet mignon.”

That made you smile just a little. “That does sound preferable.”

“Great, then it’s settled.” He reached out his hand to you, waiting expectantly. “Come on, let’s go.”

And just like that, for the first time that night, you felt like maybe—just maybe—Valentine’s Day wasn’t a complete loss.

Instead of a high-end restaurant filled with dim lighting and soft music, Chandler took you somewhere far more you—a classic, old-school diner tucked away from the Valentine’s Day chaos.

The kind of place with red leather booths, the faint scent of coffee lingering in the air, and a menu that hadn’t changed in twenty years.

The kind of place where you could actually breathe.

You slid into the booth across from him, still feeling a little off-balance from the rollercoaster of emotions you had been through tonight. But Chandler? He was just there. Steady. Comfortable. Familiar.

“This is nice,” you admitted, looking around.

He shrugged. “Figured you could use a break from all the grand romantic gestures.” Then, after a beat, he gestured at himself. “I mean, aside from this grand romantic gesture, obviously.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course.”

When the waitress came to take your orders, Chandler did something that actually surprised you—he ordered for himself, but before she walked away, he added, “And can you, I don’t know… put a candle or something on the table? Just for, like, ambiance?”

The waitress looked at him like he was definitely a little strange, but after a glance at you—makeup fresh, but your eyes still a little tired—she seemed to understand.

“I’ll see what I can do, hon,” she said with a small smile before walking away.

You raised an eyebrow at him. “A candle?”

He shrugged. “What? You did have a Valentine’s date planned. Just because it’s me sitting across from you instead of him doesn’t mean you don’t deserve at least some effort.”

Something in your chest softened.

A few minutes later, the waitress returned with a tiny tea light in a glass jar, setting it in the middle of the table before walking off with a wink.

Chandler smirked. “There. Mood lighting.”

You shook your head, but the smile on your face was real this time.

Then came the food—burgers, fries, milkshakes. Nothing fancy, nothing special, but somehow, it was perfect.

And with each passing minute, with each joke Chandler cracked, with every ridiculous anecdote he told, you started to feel lighter.

He toasted his milkshake to you. “To the best breakup of your life.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “Not sure best is the right word.”

“Well, it’s definitely up there,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I mean, let’s recap: he dumped you, over the phone, on Valentine’s Day.” He shook his head. “That level of stupidity is almost impressive.”

You exhaled, looking down at your fries, voice quieter. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t get what I did wrong.”

Chandler’s teasing faded instantly. He leaned forward, arms resting on the table. “Hey. Look at me.”

You did.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said firmly. “You know what happened? He realized he wasn’t ready for you. And instead of talking to you about it, he took the easy way out. That’s his failure, not yours.”

Your chest ached, but not as much as before.

And maybe, just maybe, you were starting to believe him.

The night carried on, and Chandler did what he did best—he made you laugh.

Real, belly-aching, gasping-for-breath laughter.

He imitated a dramatic reenactment of your ex’s phone call—complete with fake deep sighs, lots of unnecessary uhhs, and at least three eye-rolls.

He stole one of your fries and then looked genuinely wounded when you smacked his hand in retaliation.

And he never once made you feel like you were a burden.

By the time you left the diner, stepping into the crisp night air, you weren’t thinking about your ex anymore.

You weren’t thinking about what had gone wrong, or what you could have done differently.

You were just thinking about how grateful you were to have a best friend like Chandler.

The city, once buzzing with the chaos of Valentine’s Day, had settled into something softer—less about grand gestures and more about quiet moments.

You walked side by side, hands tucked into your coat pockets, the sound of your footsteps on the pavement the only thing filling the space between you. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t heavy.

It was nice. And as you let out a slow breath, you realized something—something that should have been obvious before but somehow never fully registered.

Even when you were in a relationship, even when you were supposed to be happy, you had never felt this kind of contentment.

Not the quiet, steady kind that Chandler seemed to bring effortlessly. Not the kind where you could just be.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. He was looking ahead, hands still in his pockets, his face relaxed. As if this was exactly where he wanted to be.

And somehow, the thought sent a warmth through you that had nothing to do with the jacket wrapped around your shoulders.

Eventually, your stroll led you both to a small park, the kind with old wooden benches and street lamps that cast a golden glow over the pathways. It was empty, peaceful, and without a word, you both gravitated toward the nearest bench, sitting down in sync, like this was something you had done a hundred times before.

The night stretched on in comfortable silence. You weren’t thinking about your ex anymore. You weren’t thinking about the way your evening was supposed to go.

You were just… here. With Chandler.

You tilted your head back, breathing in the cool night air, letting your mind settle into the moment. And then—

He did something. Something small. Something simple. But it sent a ripple through the quiet. Chandler reached out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

His fingers were light, barely there, but the touch left something behind—a warmth, a spark, an undeniable shift in the air between you.

You blinked, caught off guard, turning to look at him. And for once, there wasn’t a joke on his lips. No sarcasm, no attempt to deflect or lighten the mood.

Just him. Looking at you with an honesty that made your chest tighten.

“You know,” he said, voice softer than usual, more thoughtful. “I’ve been saying it all night, but I don’t think I ever actually said it. So I’m gonna say it now.”

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “Say what?”

“That you’re…” He exhaled, shaking his head slightly like he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. “You’re wonderful.”

Your breath caught.

“You deserve someone who sees that,” he continued, his voice steady, certain. “Who doesn’t just realize it too late, or take it for granted, or let it slip through their fingers.” He paused, tilting his head slightly, eyes locked with yours. “Someone who gets just how lucky they are to have you.”

The world went quiet. No passing cars. No distant city noise. Just the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears.

Because he saw it. He had always seen it.

Every kind word tonight. Every ridiculous joke, every small gesture. Chandler had spent the whole night making sure you were okay—not because he had to, but because he wanted to. Because he couldn’t stand to see you hurt.

And suddenly, you saw him differently, too.

Because when you really thought about it, when you strung together all the moments, all the times he had been there for you—not just tonight, but always—wasn’t it obvious?

Hadn’t it always been there?

A weak spot for you, tucked away behind laughter and sarcasm, in the way he always made sure you were okay before worrying about himself.

Chandler shifted, clearing his throat like he had just realized something too.

For a brief second, something passed between you. A lingering look. A slight nervousness that hadn’t been there before.

Then—almost instinctively—you both laughed. A little awkward, a little forced. As if breaking the tension would erase what had just happened.

“Well,” Chandler said, leaning back, rubbing his hands together. “That got… weirdly intense for a second, huh?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, shaking your head, trying to laugh it off. “Yeah, it did.”

Another moment of silence. You looked away, trying to shake the feeling. But it was there now. That tiny shift. That tiny what if?.

You weren’t sure where it would lead. And neither was he. But as you sat there, side by side in the quiet night, it was impossible to ignore.

Something had changed.

As you walked back to your apartment, the city felt quieter than before. The once-lively streets had settled into a calm rhythm, the occasional car passing by, the distant hum of traffic creating a soft background noise. The cool night air brushed against your skin, but you barely noticed. Your mind was elsewhere, focused entirely on the warmth of Chandler beside you and the strange, almost delicate shift between you both.

At first, it was nothing—just the natural movement of walking side by side, the way your hands would occasionally brush against each other. But then it happened again, and instead of pulling away, Chandler let his fingers linger against yours. There was a moment of hesitation, a silent pause, before he finally, carefully, wrapped his hand around yours. He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. There was no need to acknowledge it, no need for jokes or explanations. It was easy, unforced, and somehow felt more natural than it should have. You weren’t sure what it meant, but you also weren’t in any hurry to figure it out.

By the time you reached your apartment, the reality of the night began to settle in. You stopped just outside your door, turning to face Chandler, who now looked oddly unsure of himself. He had been so relaxed all evening, filling every gap with humor, making you laugh until you forgot why you had been upset in the first place. But now, standing in the soft glow of the hallway light, he seemed hesitant, almost nervous, like he wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

The silence stretched between you, neither of you making the first move to leave, as if something was still unfinished. You weren’t sure what you were waiting for, but you didn’t want to break the moment too soon. Trying to ease the tension, you forced a small smile and decided to say something lighthearted.

“Well, this was easily the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

Chandler let out a quiet laugh, but his usual quick-witted response didn’t follow. Instead, he looked at you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. It wasn’t just amusement or affection—it was something deeper, something searching. His eyes flickered down to your lips for the briefest second before he quickly looked away, clearing his throat and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“Wow, uh… okay. So this is… a moment. A very moment-y moment,” he muttered, his voice slightly uneven.

You tilted your head, amused by his sudden awkwardness. “Yeah, it kind of is.”

He exhaled, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets like he was physically stopping himself from doing something impulsive. For the first time in all the years you had known him, Chandler Bing looked genuinely conflicted, as if his brain was at war with itself. He had spent all night reminding you how wonderful you were, making sure you felt special, showing you in a hundred little ways that you deserved more than the guy who had walked away. And now, as he stood in front of you, there was something else in his eyes. Something unspoken.

But instead of acting on it, instead of saying whatever was on the tip of his tongue, he took a small step back, forcing a casual nod. “Right. Okay. So, uh—good. Good night. This was fun. Yep, very fun. Now I should probably, uh… go. To my apartment. To sleep. Because that’s what people do at night. They sleep.”

You raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

Chandler hesitated for a moment longer, shifting his weight like he was fighting some internal battle. His hands were still stuffed in his jacket pockets, his jaw tight, his expression torn between wanting to leave and wanting to stay. You could see it all over his face—the conflict, the hesitation, the overwhelming urge to do something but being too scared to actually do it.

And you knew exactly what it was.

He wanted to kiss you.

You could feel it in the way he lingered, in the way his gaze kept flickering down to your lips before snapping away like he was scolding himself for even thinking about it. You could feel it in the way he exhaled just a little too sharply, the way he kept nodding to himself as if forcing his feet to start moving.

But instead of giving in, instead of doing what you both wanted, he let out another awkward breath, gave a small, jerky nod, and took a step back.

“Right. Okay. I’m gonna go now,” he said, his voice tight, controlled, like he was trying not to do something reckless.

You watched him turn, watched him start to walk away, watched the way his shoulders tensed like he was physically restraining himself.

And suddenly, you couldn’t take it anymore.

Your heart pounded as you opened your mouth, your voice soft but firm as you called out—

“Chandler.”

He stopped mid-step, freezing in place like he was afraid to turn around. His hands clenched at his sides, and for a second, you thought he might keep walking, that he might ignore whatever was pulling him back.

But then, slowly, he turned to face you.

You took a step closer.

“Just kiss me.”

His breath hitched. His eyes widened slightly, like he hadn’t expected you to say it, like he had been hoping for it but never dared to believe it could actually happen. He didn’t move at first, just stood there, staring at you, his lips slightly parted like he wasn’t sure he had heard you right.

“W-what?” he finally managed to stammer, his usual quick wit completely failing him for the first time in his life.

You swallowed, your pulse racing, your entire body buzzing with anticipation. “I said kiss me.”

Chandler let out a shaky breath, his hands finally leaving his pockets, his fingers twitching slightly like he was trying to hold himself back. “Are you—are you sure?”

You nodded without hesitation. “Yeah. I am.”

That was all he needed.

In an instant, he was closing the space between you, his hands reaching up, cupping your face with a gentleness that made your breath catch. He hesitated for only a second longer, his eyes searching yours, making sure this was real, that you wanted this as much as he did.

And then, finally, finally, he kissed you.

It was soft at first, tentative, like he was still afraid of ruining something, of crossing a line that could never be uncrossed. But when you melted into him, when your hands gripped the front of his jacket and pulled him closer, that hesitation vanished completely.

The kiss deepened, all of the night’s emotions pouring into it—the laughter, the comfort, the lingering glances, the warmth of his hand in yours, the realization that this had been building for longer than either of you had admitted.

When he finally pulled back, breathless, his forehead resting against yours, he let out a small, incredulous laugh. “Wow. Okay. So that just happened.”

You smiled, your heart still racing, your fingers still tangled in the fabric of his jacket. “Yeah. It did.”

Chandler exhaled, shaking his head slightly, his thumbs brushing against your skin like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch you like this. 

The next morning, soft sunlight filtered through the apartment windows, casting a warm glow over the living room. The air was quiet, the usual morning sounds of the city outside muffled by the comfort of the space around you. You shifted slightly, feeling warmth against you, a steady rise and fall beneath your cheek.

Then it hit you.

You weren’t in your bed.

You were on the couch.

And you weren’t alone.

Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you tilted your head and saw Chandler, still half-asleep, his arm draped lazily around you, his face tucked close to your hair.

Everything from the night before came rushing back.

The walk home. The way your hands found each other. The hesitation at your door. The kiss.

And the way you had both ended up here, curled up on the couch, wrapped up in each other without a second thought, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

Chandler groaned softly, shifting slightly as he woke up, his eyes fluttering open. It took him a second to register where he was, but when he did, he didn’t jerk away or make an awkward joke to deflect. He just blinked at you, a slow, sleepy smile spreading across his face.

“Morning,” he murmured, his voice low and rough from sleep.

You smiled back, warmth spreading in your chest. “Morning.”

Before either of you could fully process the fact that everything had changed overnight, the front door swung open.

“Oh my God!”

Monica’s voice cut through the peaceful quiet like a fire alarm.

You tensed immediately, but Chandler only groaned dramatically, burying his face into the pillow behind him.

“Oh great,” he muttered. “Here comes the peanut gallery.”

You glanced toward the doorway to see Monica standing there, wide-eyed, her gaze flickering between you and Chandler as if she had just walked in on a crime scene.

“What—how—when did this happen?!” she demanded, her hands flying to her hips in full interrogation mode.

Chandler finally sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Oh, you know, sometime between me trying to be a good friend and herruining my years of carefully buried emotions by asking me to kiss her.”

Monica’s jaw dropped. “You kissed?!”

Chandler smirked, glancing at you. “Oh, we did a lot more than that.”

You smacked his arm lightly. “Chandler!”

“What?!” he said, laughing as he held up his hands in surrender. “I meant emotionally! Jeez, Monica, get your mind out of the gutter.”

Monica was still staring at you both, suspicious but undeniably intrigued. “So… does this mean you two are togethernow?”

The question hung in the air for a second.

You and Chandler looked at each other.

And then, without hesitation, he grinned and answered, “Yeah. I think it does.”

Your heart skipped a beat at how easy it was for him to say that, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And honestly? It was.

You had spent so much time chasing after the wrong kind of love, mistaking grand romantic gestures for something real, when the truth was, the best thing had been right in front of you all along.

Chandler had always been there.

And now?

He wasn’t going anywhere.

Monica let out a deep breath, shaking her head. “Well. This is going to be interesting.”

Chandler shot her a look. “Oh, please. You know you saw this coming before we did.”

Monica didn’t argue.

Instead, she smirked. “Fine. But you both owe me details later.”

With that, she grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl and walked toward her room, still shaking her head in disbelief.

As soon as the door shut behind her, you let out a laugh, shaking your head before glancing back at Chandler. He was still looking at you, still smiling, still beaming in a way that made your stomach flip.

“What?” you asked softly.

His grin widened. “Nothing. I just… I like this.”

You tilted your head. “Like what?”

He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly over your hand, the same way he had the night before. “This. You and me.”

Warmth spread through you, and without thinking, you leaned in and kissed him, slow and soft, the way you could now, the way you wanted to.

When you pulled back, his smile was still there, maybe even bigger than before.

“Yep,” he said with a small sigh, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close again. “Best Valentine’s Day ever.”

▸ Everything

@alexxavicry