Okay so like 99% of the fics are not mine, so I’ll credit the writer too (and you can go check their work out, because some of these are GOLDEN). And I will be linking my fav fics here because I’ve got 200 fics on here as of now (but all other fics are tagged with the character that they’re about so you can find them and read them).And they will be in chronological order of reblog, because I’m lazy, mostly. All these are character x reader/oc self-inserts.
If you read any of the fics below, make sure to like and reblog them and show the writer your support with a comment, doesn’t matter if it’s a simple I love this! Or something more elaborate and personal, it does make a difference.
Edit: since Reggie from JATP had officially a last name, the fics which I reblogged until the 9th of December will be tagged as jatp reggie, but all the ones I reblog from now on will be tagged as reggie peters.
TAGLIST HERE
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My requests are always open, but I only write with OCs (of the person who’s requested it) and X Reader. Fem!Reader, Male!Reader and Gender-Neutral/NB!Reader are all welcome. I don’t write non-con, p*dophilia or z*ophilia.
My Fics:
JATP - Reggie - We’re The Revolution That’s Been Singing In The Rain
JATP - Juke - Really Something
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EDIT: tumblr doesn’t allow more than 50 tags so the continuation of my recommendations will be HERE.
Personal Faves:
Special Mention to my bestie’s @heliads masterlist because all her work is amazing
MLWTWB - Alex Walter - Drunken Make Outs - @mattybstqrn
MLWTWB - Alex Walter - I’m Yours - @julieloves074
Stranger Things - Eddie Munson - she’s the devil in disguise - @letterstotheflre
Zombies - Zed Necrodopolis - Team Player - @sunny-reys
TW - Brett Talbot - The Bite -
Marvel/TASM - Peter Parker - The Two Of Us - @sunny-reys
MCU - Avengers - Kiddo - @redstarwriting
DC - Harley Quinn - Cherry Soda - @sapphicwhxre
HP - James Potter - Truth and Declare - by fave @sunny-reys
SaB - The Darkling - Time Can Heal (But This Won’t) - by bestie @sunny-reys
JATP – Reggie – Unsteady Hands - @sunsetgillespie (this is like, one of my most treasured fics of all time.)
Teen Wolf – Theo Raeken – Back From Hell - @xplrreylo
JATP – Reggie – Leather Jacket - @xplrreylo
Obey Me! – Mammon – Bangin’ Birthday - @mammor0n
FBAWTFT – Newt Scamander – Not That Dress - @12tardis (there’s i think two more fics by this person, one with a jumper(? And one with a shirt(? Make sure to check ‘em out too!)
TO x SPN – Elijah Mikaelson – Funny-Man - @zodiyack
TO - Klaus Mikaelson – Every King Needs An Heir - @zodiyack (i think two parts?)
TVD – Kai Parker - Lunchtime Sabotage - @zodiyack
TO - Kol Mikaelson – Trusting You To Trust Yourself - @zodiyack
The Arcana - Asra – A Day In Asra’s Gate With MC - @steponmeasra
Sherlock - Sherlock – Fluffy - @carryonmywaywardbucky
OBX - JJ Maybank – What does JJ stand for? - @maybanktho
OBX - JJ Maybank – Study Sessions - @ptersparkers (7 chapters of pure smut)
The Order – Randall Carpio – Your Shirt - @willddheart
Sanji x fem!reader | pre-battle tension | kiss for luck | bold flirting | mutual pining | dangerous mission | suave Sanji | “lady’s blessing” | almost-confession vibes | One Piece Live Action | 4.2k words
The island looked wrong from the moment it came into view.
Too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet either. Not sleepy harbor silence or the distant hush of a town settling in for evening. This was the sort of quiet that pressed against the skin. Watchful. Waiting.
Even Luffy noticed, which was saying something.
By the time the Going Merry was anchored in the shadow of the cliffs and the crew had gathered on deck to plan their next move, the air itself felt sharpened. Nami stood over the map with a crease between her brows. Zoro had all three swords within easy reach. Usopp was pretending he wasn’t nervous, which mostly meant he was talking too much. Chopper kept glancing between all of you like he could diagnose the tension if he looked at it hard enough.
And Sanji—Sanji was leaning against the railing like this was any other afternoon.
One ankle crossed over the other, sleeves rolled to his elbows, cigarette balanced between elegant fingers, blond hair stirring in the sea wind. If anyone didn’t know him, they might have thought he was relaxed. Effortless. Untouched by the unease hanging over the ship.
You knew better.
You saw it in the stillness beneath his smile.
Sanji only got that smooth when things were dangerous.
“The patrol rotates every fifteen minutes,” Nami said, tapping the map. “If we time it right, we can get into the compound before they realize we’re there.”
“And then?” Usopp asked.
“Then,” Zoro said dryly, “we improvise.”
“That’s not a plan.”
“That’s always the plan,” Sanji murmured.
Luffy grinned. “I like that plan.”
“Of course you do,” Nami muttered.
You stood near the mast with your arms folded, listening as the argument circled. The target was simple enough in theory: get in, grab what had been stolen from the village below, get out before the local gang decided to turn the whole thing into a bloodbath. In theory.
In practice, “get in and get out” usually meant at least one of you came back bruised, bleeding or grinning like an idiot over a narrowly avoided death.
Sometimes all three.
Your gaze drifted to Sanji again.
He caught you looking, of course. He always did.
One corner of his mouth tipped upward around the cigarette.
You looked away first.
Coward.
“All right,” Nami said finally. “Luffy, Zoro and Sanji go in. Usopp stays here with Chopper in case things go bad.”
“Hey,” Usopp protested. “I can go in.”
“No,” three voices said at once.
He looked offended. Chopper patted his arm anyway.
Nami continued, “We only need three. Fast in, fast out.”
Sanji straightened from the railing with an easy shrug. “Then let’s not keep the villains waiting.”
There it was again—that polished ease, that almost lazy confidence. Like slipping into danger was just another outfit he knew how to wear.
You hated how good he was at it.
The meeting broke apart quickly after that. Nami went below deck to get supplies. Usopp launched into a long explanation of what he would do if he were coming, which nobody listened to. Luffy wandered off to find food before the mission. Zoro started checking his swords near the bow.
And Sanji stayed where he was, finishing his cigarette as though the island ahead wasn’t crawling with armed men.
You told yourself not to go to him.
Then your feet did it anyway.
He heard you coming and glanced over his shoulder before you’d even reached the railing.
“Ah,” he said softly, smile already forming. “There you are, darling.”
It should not have made your stomach flip after all this time.
And yet.
“You say that like I’ve been gone for days.”
“It felt longer.”
You snorted and leaned against the rail beside him, eyes on the black shape of the island ahead. Up close, you could smell smoke and salt and the sharp citrus soap he used when water allowed it. Familiar. Dangerous. Distracting.
For a moment, neither of you spoke.
The sea rocked gently beneath the ship. Somewhere above, canvas shifted. The late light had begun to turn gold, painting the edges of Sanji’s profile in warm bronze.
“You’re worried,” he said at last.
You exhaled through your nose. “You say that like it’s unreasonable.”
“Not unreasonable.” He flicked ash over the side. “Just unnecessary.”
You turned to stare at him. “Unnecessary?”
“My love, it’s three men with too much ego and not enough imagination behind a gate. We’ll be back before dinner.”
The words were smooth, easy even. But his eyes stayed on the horizon.
“Don’t do that.”
His gaze shifted to yours. “Do what?”
“Pretend it’s nothing.”
Something quieter moved through his expression, there and gone. Then he smiled again, softer this time. “If I admit it’s something, will you look at me like that all evening?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re deciding whether to tie me to the mast for my own safety.”
You huffed a laugh despite yourself. “Tempting.”
“I’d look quite dashing, I think.”
You rolled your eyes and looked back out at the island. “I’m serious, Sanji.”
“So am I.”
He said it lightly, but not carelessly. You could hear the shift beneath the silk now, the truth he was willing to give you if you looked for it.
That only made it worse.
Because Sanji could joke his way through almost anything, and the moments when he stopped feeling like a performance were the ones that got under your skin and stayed there.
You folded your arms tighter. “It feels wrong.”
The cigarette paused halfway to his mouth.
“Wrong how?”
“It’s too quiet.” You frowned toward the cliffs. “Like they’re expecting something.”
He took a drag, slow and thoughtful. “Maybe they are.” You looked at him sharply.
Sanji exhaled a ribbon of smoke into the sea wind. “Nami noticed it too. So did I.”
“And?”
“And we’re still going.”
Of course they were. Because that was the sort of crew this was. Ridiculous and reckless and impossible, with just enough heart to make every dangerous decision feel noble afterward.
You hated that you understood it now.
You hated more that Sanji was one of the reasons why.
He turned then, bracing one elbow on the rail so he could face you more fully. “You know I can take care of myself.”
“I know you think you can.”
A laugh slipped out of him, warm and surprised. “Cruel.”
“Honest.”
His eyes narrowed with amusement. “You do realize I’m meant to be the charming one in this conversation.”
“You’re failing.”
“Am I?” He leaned in the slightest bit. “Because you’re still here.”
Your pulse jumped.
You hated when he did that, when he said something ridiculous in that low, easy voice and made it impossible to tell where the joke ended and the meaning began.
Especially lately, when the mission ahead had left your nerves raw enough that every look from him felt louder.
He must have seen something change in your face, because his smile gentled. “What is it?” he asked.
The question came softer than the rest. Too soft.
You should have said nothing.
Instead, because fear made you reckless in strange directions, you said, “Maybe you need luck.”
One blond brow lifted. “Luck?”
“For tonight.”
He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. “Darling, are you offering to bless the mission? I feel holier already.”
That grin should have made it easy again.
It didn’t.
You should have let him keep it playful. Should have laughed and walked away and carried your worry somewhere private until he came back.
Instead, the words left your mouth before common sense could catch them.
“I could kiss you for luck.”
Silence.
Absolute, catastrophic silence.
Even the sea seemed to stop.
Sanji froze.
Not for long—barely a heartbeat—but you saw it. Saw the way every line of him went still. Saw the cigarette pause between his fingers. Saw his eyes widen by the smallest fraction before all that polished grace slid right back into place.
But the freeze had happened. You didn’t imagined it. And suddenly your own face felt very warm.
“Well,” he said, voice silk-smooth and just a touch lower than before, “I’d never turn down a lady’s blessing.”
You stared at him. You had meant it as a joke. At least, you thought you had. Now you were no longer sure.
And judging by the heat that flashed through his eyes before he smoothed it away, neither was he.
“Sanji—”
“Unless,” he murmured, stepping half a pace closer, “you’re withdrawing the offer.”
You should, immediately. Instead your body betrayed you in a hundred tiny ways at once: pulse jumping, breath catching, fingers tightening against your own arms. He noticed every single one.
Of course he did.
The bastard.
“You really are impossible,” you muttered.
“And yet,” he said, smile sharpening at one corner, “apparently good luck.”
That almost made you laugh. Almost.
Instead you lifted your chin, because if he was going to act smooth about this, then so were you.
Fine.
“Stand still, then.”
His expression changed.
Just for a moment.
The teasing stayed, but something else moved under it now—something startled and intent and far too honest. Like he hadn’t expected you to call the bluff.
Slowly, Sanji took the cigarette from his mouth and crushed it against the railing, setting it aside.
Then he did exactly as told.
He stood still.
That shouldn’t have felt as intimate as it did.
He didn’t move when you stepped closer. Didn’t say anything. Just watched you with those impossible eyes and that controlled, careful stillness that made your own composure feel dangerously thin.
You’ve kissed people before. This shouldn’t have been different, but it was different.
Because it was Sanji.
Because he joked and flirted and smiled, but never like this. Never with his entire body wound quiet, as if he were holding himself still on purpose. Never with that look in his eyes, bright and focused and betraying exactly how much this mattered.
You put one hand lightly against his arm to steady yourself.
He sucked in the smallest breath.
And then you kissed his cheek.
Just the corner of it, really. Soft. Brief. A brush of your mouth against warm skin.
Safe.
Not enough.
You felt that truth the second you pulled back.
So did he.
Sanji’s lashes lowered once, slowly, and when he looked at you again his expression had gone utterly unreadable in the way that meant he was feeling too much.
“There,” you said, much more breathless than you intended. “For luck.”
A beat.
Then his mouth curved.
“Ah,” he said. “A generous lady indeed.”
The line was perfect. Smooth. Light. Effortless.
It should’ve saved you.
It didn’t save either of you.
Because his voice had roughened, his gaze had dropped, just once, to your mouth. Then the hand at his side had flexed like it was resisting the urge to reach for you.
You took a step back too quickly. “It was a joke.”
The words came out wrong the second they were spoken.
Sanji heard that too.
He smiled, but smaller now. “Of course.”
Liar.
Not because he didn’t believe you.
Because neither of you wanted to.
From the bow, Luffy shouted, “SANJI! WE’RE GOING!”
The moment shattered.
Sanji closed his eyes for half a second, then reopened them wearing his usual easy charm like armor he’d only briefly set down.
“Duty calls.”
You hated how relieved and disappointed that made you feel all at once.
He bent, just slightly, taking your hand before you could think to stop him.
His mouth brushed your knuckles—warm, lingering, and far more deliberate than your cheek kiss had been.
“For the blessing,” he said quietly.
Then he let you go and walked away.
He did not look back.
Which was perhaps the worst part.
Because now you were left standing at the railing with your heart hammering and the ghost of his mouth still on your skin, trying to remember how this had started as a joke.
It did not improve from there.
Watching Sanji leave was always unpleasant.
Watching him leave after kissing your hand like that should have been illegal.
You stood with Nami and Chopper near the stern as the three of them slipped into the shadows below the cliff path. Luffy moved first, bright and fearless even in the dimming light. Zoro followed with the quiet menace of a man built to be trouble. Sanji came last, glancing up once toward the ship—not at you, you told yourself.
Except his eyes found yours anyway. Only for a second, then he was gone.
“Well,” Nami said beside you, entirely too calm, “that was interesting.”
You kept your gaze on the cliffs. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Mm.”
Chopper tilted his head up at you. “Did you really kiss him for luck?”
Your face heated all over again. “It was a joke.”
Nami made a noise that suggested she would rather throw herself into the sea than entertain that lie.
Chopper blinked. “Oh.” Then, after a pause: “You looked really serious for a joke.”
“Thank you, Chopper,” Nami said dryly. “Excellent observation.”
He puffed up. “I observe things.”
“Yes,” you muttered. “Unfortunately.”
Waiting was miserable.
That was the truth nobody romanticized enough. Not the battle itself, not the danger, not the grand return afterward—the waiting. The helplessness of it. The way every distant sound became a possibility.
Nami tried to keep busy checking supplies. Chopper organized his medical bag three separate times. Usopp paced until Nami threatened to tie him down.
You stood at the rail and watched the dark.
And thought, against your will, of Sanji freezing for that one tiny, traitorous heartbeat.
It replayed itself with horrifying clarity.
He had wanted that kiss.
Not in the casual way he wanted flirtation or attention or an excuse to say something pretty. In the real way. The dangerous way. The way that made him go still instead of speaking.
And you—you had wanted to give it. That was the part you were trying not to touch too closely. Because once you admitted it, the whole shape of the thing changed. No longer a joke. No longer nerves. No longer something you could blame on the mission ahead.
Just want.
Just Sanji.
Just the terrible possibility that this had been building between you for longer than either of you wanted to name.
Time crawled.
Then, somewhere below the cliffs, shouting erupted.
Usopp yelped. Chopper jumped. Nami was already moving before anyone else had fully reacted.
The next few minutes were chaos.
Boots on stone. A crash in the distance. Luffy’s unmistakable laugh cutting through the noise like a battle cry. The ring of steel. Someone yelling in pain. Someone else swearing.
Then all at once, three figures came tearing back up the path.
Luffy first, grinning like a lunatic.
Zoro second, bleeding from the forehead and deeply annoyed.
And Sanji—
Sanji was fine.
Breathing hard, shirt rumpled, one sleeve torn, but upright and fine.
The relief hit you so fast it nearly made you dizzy.
“They cheated,” Luffy announced cheerfully as he climbed aboard. “There were way more guys than Nami said.”
Nami crossed her arms. “Did you get it?”
Sanji tossed the stolen satchel onto the deck with a flourish. “Naturally.”
Chopper immediately fussed over Zoro’s cut while Usopp launched into questions no one answered. Luffy grabbed food as though he hadn’t just outrun a dozen armed men.
And through all of it, Sanji looked at you.
Not constantly. Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Just enough.
Every time you glanced his way, his gaze was already there, softening for one impossible second before he angled it elsewhere.
The knowledge of that kiss hung between you like a pulled thread neither of you knew how to cut.
Later, after Nami had confirmed everything in the satchel was intact and Chopper had declared everyone irritating but mostly alive, the ship quieted.
The crew drifted off in pieces.
Zoro muttered something about sleep and vanished below deck. Luffy passed out in a hammock with half a roll still in hand. Usopp kept trying to retell the mission from the perspective of someone who had not been there. Nami finally gave up on him.
You found yourself back at the railing.
Of course you did.
The night had gone clear overhead, stars stretched sharp above the sea. The island was only a dark shape now, receding behind you.
You heard footsteps before you saw him.
Sanji stopped at your side, close enough that his shoulder nearly brushed yours.
For once, he didn’t open with a line.
“You’re hurt,” you said instead, spotting the tear at his sleeve more clearly now. There was a shallow cut along his forearm, already drying dark.
He glanced down. “Barely.”
“That means yes.”
“It means Chopper will fuss if he sees me.”
“You say that like it’s a tragedy.”
He smiled faintly. “For my dignity, perhaps.”
You turned to face him more fully. “You should let him clean it.”
“In a moment.”
The words were quiet. Delaying. For what, you were not foolish enough to misunderstand.
The sea wind shifted between you.
Neither of you moved.
Then Sanji exhaled softly through his nose, one hand coming to rest on the railing behind you. Not trapping. Not quite. Just there.
“I’ve been trying,” he said, looking out at the water instead of at you, “to decide whether I imagined that.”
Your heart thudded once, hard. “The kiss?” you asked, because apparently dignity had left you too.
His mouth twitched. “Mm. The part before it, actually.”
You frowned. “What part before it?”
“The part where you offered.”
Now he looked at you.
There was no grin in it this time. No practiced wink. No bright, easy flirtation. Just Sanji, all warm edges stripped back, watching you like the answer mattered more than he wanted it to.
“I want to know,” he said quietly, “if that was truly a joke.”
You opened your mouth, then closed it. Because the truth was sitting right there between you, impossible to step around.
“No,” you admitted. It came out barely above a whisper.
Something changed in his face. Not shock exactly. More like a brace inside him had finally given way. His gaze dropped, then rose again, slower now. “No?”
“No.”
The word steadied the second time. Honest. Terrifying.
You looked down at your own hands. “I thought it was, at first. Or I told myself it was. But when I said it…” You laughed once, nervous and breathless. “I don’t think I was joking at all.”
Silence.
Then, very softly, Sanji said, “That is deeply unfair to my heart.”
You looked up in spite of yourself, and there it was again, that roughened edge in his voice, the one that only appeared when he’d stopped performing.
“You seemed to recover quickly enough,” you said.
He actually laughed at that. Low. Helpless.
“Darling, I nearly forgot my own name.”
The image of Sanji—silky, composed, infuriatingly smooth Sanji—internally unraveling because of you hit so directly that you had to look away just to breathe.
He noticed. Of course.
“You didn’t make it easy,” he murmured.
“I kissed your cheek.”
“Yes.” His eyes dropped meaningfully to your mouth. “Tragic, really.”
Your pulse leapt. “Sanji.”
“Yes, love?”
“Are you going to flirt through this whole conversation?”
A small smile. “Only until I know whether I’m allowed to do more.”
The night seemed to tilt.
That was the problem with him. He could turn one line into a spark and then stand there watching while it caught.
You should have said something witty.
Instead: “Maybe.”
Sanji went very still.
Not frozen this time. Just focused.
“Maybe,” he repeated.
The word sounded different in his mouth. Lower. Heavier.
You nodded once, because your voice had become unreliable.
His hand lifted slowly, giving you every chance to stop him, and brushed a loose strand of hair back from your face. His knuckles skimmed your cheek with unbearable gentleness.
“Then I need to ask properly,” he said. There was the gentleman in him. The softness beneath all the swagger.
You hated how much it made you want to melt.“Ask what?” you managed.
His smile turned faint and almost disbelieving, like he could not quite believe he had to say it out loud. “Whether that blessing was all I’m allowed tonight.”
Your laugh came out shaky. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Desperately.”
You looked at him. At the torn sleeve. The cut on his arm. The sea wind pushing blond hair across his forehead. The mouth that had kissed your hand like gratitude and promise all at once. The eyes that had gone too honest to ignore.
And then you said, “No.”
This time he froze again, just for a heartbeat.
It made something warm and giddy unfurl in your chest.
Then Sanji smiled, not the polished one, not the devastating public charm he wore like a weapon, but something smaller and almost shy beneath the confidence.
God help you.
His fingers settled gently under your jaw.
And then he kissed you.
Nothing about it felt joking.
Nothing about it felt light.
It was soft first—careful, like he was testing whether you would pull away. When you didn’t, when your hand found the front of his shirt and held there, his breath caught.
Then the kiss deepened by a fraction.
Warm mouth, lingering pressure, the faint taste of smoke and salt and something sweeter that was only him. The hand at your jaw slid to the side of your neck, thumb brushing lightly there as though he could feel your pulse racing and was trying not to smile about it.
You kissed him back harder just to wipe that possibility off his face.
It didn’t work.
When he finally pulled away, only barely, his forehead rested against yours and his breathing had lost some of its elegant control.
“Well,” he murmured, voice gone wrecked in a way that felt like private treasure, “that was considerably better than luck.”
You laughed softly, still too close to him, and felt the curve of his smile against your skin.
“Did it help the mission?”
“Love, after that I could’ve fought the entire island.”
“You nearly had to.”
“A fair point.”
You drew back just enough to look at him. “You were losing your mind.”
Sanji exhaled in surrender, one hand lifting as though he might conceal his face and deciding against it. “I was.”
The honesty of it sent warmth through you all over again.
“You acted smooth.”
“I am smooth.”
You raised a brow.
He sighed. “I was smooth while losing my mind.”
“Better.”
His thumb traced once along your jaw. “You’ve no idea what that kiss did to me.”
The words landed low and dangerous.
Your face heated.
His expression brightened at once, seeing it. “Ah. There she is.”
“You are not allowed to get smug after that confession.”
“Smug?” His grin returned, slower now, alive again. “Darling, I’ve just discovered a kiss from you is both distracting and apparently worth risking life and limb for. Smug is the least of your problems.”
You shoved lightly at his chest.
He caught your wrist, laughing under his breath, and turned to press a warm kiss there—gentler than before, but no less intentional.
From somewhere behind you, a voice groaned dramatically. “Oh, come on.”
You jumped apart.
Usopp stood halfway up the stairs from below deck, one hand over his eyes in exaggerated suffering.
“I leave for one drink of water,” he complained, “and suddenly it’s romance on the deck.”
Sanji did not even flinch. “Go back below before I throw you overboard.”
Usopp pointed accusingly. “I knew it! I knew the luck kiss was weird!”
Your face felt like molten lava.
Usopp grinned like a man who had just discovered treasure. “I’m telling Nami.”
“Nami already knows,” came Nami’s voice from somewhere unseen in the shadows.
Then, from the figurehead, Luffy’s sleepy voice drifted across the deck: “Did you win?”
Sanji closed his eyes briefly. “I hate this crew.”
“You love this crew,” you said, laughing helplessly now.
He looked at you, at the smile you could not suppress, and the answering softness in his face made the entire humiliating moment worth it.
“Yes,” he said quietly, though his eyes stayed on yours. “I suppose I do.”
Usopp made another loud gagging sound and disappeared before Sanji could make good on any threats. Nami, mercifully, did not emerge from the dark. Luffy seemed to fall back asleep immediately.
The deck settled again.
Sanji stepped back into your space like the interruption had only been a brief inconvenience, one hand returning to your waist with easy familiarity that made your pulse jump all over again.
“So,” he murmured, eyes glinting, “next time I go on a dangerous mission…”
You laughed. “Absolutely not.”
“No?”
“No. You’re not getting kissed before every fight.”
He tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Every other fight?”
“Sanji.”
“Selective battles only?”
You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet,” he said, leaning in until his mouth was just shy of yours again, “still the luckiest man at sea.”
This time when he kissed you, there was no joke left anywhere in it.
roronoa zoro x reader —ᡣ𐭩 fic
summary: when the straw hats start speculating about zoro's mysterious girlfriend, you and he decide to let the rumours run wild—until the truth comes out most unexpectedly.
w/c: 3.6k
c/w: secret relationship, no use of y/n, she/her pronouns.
There's no other way to get through to him than being straight up. That's how it works with Zoro, and it's something Nami has learnt to do without regret.
"You're seeing someone."
The swordsman shifts where he sits against the mast, his lips quirking into a scowl. "And you think it's your business because...?"
Nami has the urge to punch him in the shoulder, but it isn't like he'd feel it anyway, so she refrains.
"So it's true, then?"
"Can you just leave me alone? Aren't there clouds you need to yell at?"
She growls, deep and irritated before stomping to the back of the ship where she knows you and Robin will be.
Zoro smirks to himself, happy that he's palmed the problem off to you. He knows Nami will figure it out eventually, but seeing her so frazzled is satisfying.
You slam your book down on your thighs, your eyes darting around suspiciously like you can feel someone scheming against you. There's a tightness in your chest before Nami stops before you, her hands on her hips and her brows set in a nasty frown.
"He's unbelievable!"
Robin gives you a sidelong look before bookmarking the page of her book and sliding it onto the table. "What's the matter?"
"Zoro."
You bite your tongue and close your own book without marking the page, eyes trained on the navigator. From the way your heartbeat increases, you already know what she's going to say.
"What'd he do this time?" You squeak, hoping they don't hear the shake in your tone.
Nami rolls her eyes as she collapses onto the sun lounge. "He's keeping a secret."
"This again?" Robin chuckles. "How can you be so sure?"
"He smiles."
You blink. "What?"
Robin can't contain her giggles. "That's your evidence?"
"Yes!" Nami exclaims. "And he showers more than once a week!"
"Maybe he's working on himself..." You offer, the cuticle of your left thumb close to bleeding. Small hands close over where you pick, and you glance at Robin who remains focused on Nami.
"Are you sure you're not looking at this too closely?"
Nami shakes her head at the archaeologist. "This is different."
"Ladies! Could I interest you in a beverage?"
Your attention turns to Sanji, who glides over to you, a tray of pink and orange drinks in his hand. They tilt dangerously to the right when he presents them before you, and you take one. The condensation is a welcome sensation against your hot skin, and you immediately slurp down the drink—the nerves simmering through your veins make you hasty.
"Slow down," Robin tuts, taking a sip of her own cocktail, her eyes narrowed.
You know she knows, otherwise she wouldn't be babying you. The thought sends a shiver down your spine.
"Rumour has it..." She continues, tilting her head at Sanji. "That Zoro has a girlfriend."
You choke on your drink, but Sanji's reaction draws the attention away from you, thankfully.
"What?" He yells, spluttering. "Who? Why? How?"
It's not really a secret, just the beginning of a newfound mutual attraction—you wouldn't even go as far as calling it a relationship yet, let alone labelling you as Zoro's girlfriend.
Nami nods along, seemingly egging Sanji on despite her earlier vexation and interest in the situation.
"Who is it?" Sanji presses his hand to his forehead. "I feel bad for her. We need to get this poor girl outta there."
Robin shrugs. "It's just a rumour. Who knows if it's even true."
"He didn't deny it when I asked him," Nami says, her gaze meeting Sanji's eagerly. "We need to figure it out."
The cook nods. "And when we find her, we need to perform an exorcism."
"Do you remember that waitress from Dressrosa?"
"The one who winked at him?"
"Yes!"
Nami and Sanji disappear, the wind carrying their voices and their sandals and dress shoes heavy on the wooden deck of the Sunny as they converse to the galley.
"How long are you going to let them meddle before you tell them?"
You twist your lips. Of course, Robin knows. "We only started speaking about it a few weeks ago. Nothing's official and we aren't even sure if it would be appropriate."
She hums, mulling over your words as she swirls the straw around in the sunset-coloured liquid.
"They don't know it's you, so I see nothing wrong with having a little fun with it."
You snort. "You're evil."
Robin smirks, picking her book back up with her free hand. "Just think about it."
—
You step out of the lower quarters, Zoro’s green haramaki jacket slung loosely over your shoulders, the hem brushing your thighs like it belongs there. It’s warm, a little scratchy, and it still smells faintly of sun-dried sweat and steel—undeniably him. The night air bites at your legs, but the jacket holds you like a dare.
Robin’s words from earlier echo in your head, smooth and dangerous: “They don’t know it’s you, so I see nothing wrong with having a little fun with it.”
So you decide to take her advice.
The galley is quiet when you push open the door. Dimly lit, the overhead lamp hums, casting a warm glow over the countertop where Sanji and Nami are standing far too close, heads bent together in hushed conspiracy. The air smells like citrus and tension.
Sanji is mid-sentence—something whispered and scandalous—when he sees you. He freezes, jaw half-open. Nami’s eyes snap up to follow his gaze, and everything stills.
You don’t say a word as you glide past them toward the stove, bare feet soft against the tiled floor. The only sound is the clink of the kettle being set to boil and the rattle of teacups. Their silence trails you like a pair of shadows.
Then, finally—
“Wait,” Nami says, blinking like she’s trying to reset her vision. “Is that—?”
You glance down at yourself like you’d forgotten what you were wearing. Feigning surprise, you laugh under your breath and tug the jacket tighter around your body. “Oh, this? Found it in the laundry pile. Might be Zoro’s. Not sure.”
You catch the shift in Sanji’s face like a storm rolling in—he chokes on his own cigarette smoke, coughing once, twice, eyes already watering with disbelief and disgust.
“That thing?” He sputters, voice rising half an octave. “That filthy, ragged—seaweed-coloured disgrace? You—you—should be wrapped in silk, in crushed velvet! Not whatever that moss-headed neanderthal sheds after a workout!”
You raise your eyebrows, unbothered. “Mm. But it’s warm.”
Nami’s staring now, more than looking—like she’s trying to do the math on something that shouldn’t be adding up.
You pick up your mug, now full and steaming, and cradle it in your hands. The ceramic is hot against your palms, grounding. You take a long sip, letting the moment stretch.
Then, casually, over the rim of your mug, you grin. “You’re right, Sanji. His girlfriend would probably hate me wearing it. Don’t you think?”
That lands like a firework.
Nami’s hand shoots out and grabs Sanji’s arm, her eyes going wide, like she’s just been handed the final piece of a puzzle she didn’t even realize she was solving. Sanji, meanwhile, looks like he’s about to faint.
You say nothing else.
The silence breaks only as you turn and make your way to the door. You don’t look back, but you can feel their stares trailing after you, sharp and electric.
As the door swings shut behind you, the muffled explosion of whispers begins instantly. Names. Theories. Wild speculation.
You let yourself smile into your tea.
—
"I'm on the list," You say, nudging your shoulder into Zoro’s as you wander past the last row of closed market stalls.
The town’s emptying, the sun bleeding its way down between leaning rooftops and flickering lanterns. There’s a stillness to this street, a hush that comes only after a good day of noise, food, and crew-wide mischief. For once, it’s quiet—just the two of you, tucked into the rarest sliver of privacy the world ever offers.
Zoro doesn't look at you, just grunts, a familiar sound rumbling in his chest. “What list?”
“Nami’s.”
That earns a slight turn of his head, a single eye narrowing in suspicion. “What’s she doing now?”
“Compiling suspects.” You smirk. “Of who you’re allegedly dating.”
He slows a step, not quite stopping. Another grunt—this one closer to a sigh. “You serious?”
“She’s up to five pages,” You continue, voice casual like this is normal. “I’m top three. Could be number one by tonight if I play my cards right.”
“That bad, huh?”
“She’s even got Franky on there.”
Zoro barks out a low laugh, the sound brief and amused. “What, because he complimented my swords once?”
“Probably,” You hum. “She said he gave you a suspicious thumbs-up the other morning.”
“That’s just Franky’s default setting.”
You shrug. “Try telling her that.”
He snorts, but the corners of his mouth twitch like he's trying not to smile. The silence between you stretches, easy and familiar, filled only by the sound of your boots on stone and the rustle of wind through paper lanterns.
“She’s also started giving me these looks,” You add after a beat, waving a hand in the air and twirling your finger vaguely around your face. “Real invasive ones. Like she’s waiting for me to confess to murder or something.”
Before your spin can complete its full, dramatic arc, Zoro grabs your hand—steady and sudden. It isn’t forceful, just deliberate. Grounding.
He pulls you closer, not enough for anyone to see from a distance, but enough that your knuckles brush the fabric of his trousers, enough that your hand is suspended in the space between your bodies. Your pulse jumps.
“So what,” He says, voice quieter now. “You scared?”
You scoff, not bothering to hide the small huff of a laugh. “Of Nami?”
He shrugs, but there’s something in the way he watches you now—something more focused than usual. Like he's waiting. Like he’s asking a question without actually saying it.
You hesitate.
Then sigh. “I’m not scared. Just…” You trail off, letting the truth settle before saying it aloud. “Not ready to be the Sunny’s new soap opera.”
He raises a brow, skeptical.
You nudge his hand with your pinky. “You know how they are. One clue and suddenly there’s a betting pool, matching outfits, crew-wide interventions…”
“They’ll move on in a week,” He says, like it’s obvious.
You arch a brow. “You really think that?”
He doesn’t answer, but his grip on your hand lingers.
A breeze slips between the buildings, catching the hem of your shirt and the edge of Zoro’s sash. The moment holds, quiet and strange, like the calm before something shifts.
Then you glance up at him, smirking. “For the record, I am honoured to be on the list.”
Zoro exhales through his nose, amused again. “Be funnier if she put Luffy on it.”
“She might. Give her time.”
He finally lets go of your hand, but only so his pinky can loop around yours instead—barely touching, almost nothing.
But you feel it anyway.
—
Back on the ship, you’re curled up on the bench seat in the lounge, one of Sanji’s lemon cakes half-eaten beside you and your book lying facedown on your lap. It’s supposed to be a relaxing afternoon—the kind with quiet waves, distant seagulls, and maybe even a nap—but of course, peace never lasts long on the Sunny.
Not when Nami’s around.
The door slams open hard enough to rattle the cutlery in the adjacent kitchen. Nami storms in like she’s coming back from war—journal clutched in her hand, hair wind-whipped, eyes gleaming with the kind of chaos only someone with a vengeance (and a highlighter) can conjure.
“I’ve got it!" She exclaims, eyes wide with excitement.
Robin, seated at the small corner table with a cup of spiced tea and the latest historical epic, doesn’t even flinch. Her eyes slide lazily to the side, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You’ve got what?”
“The proof.” Nami tosses her journal onto the table with a flourish. “I know who Zoro’s seeing.”
Your stomach flips, fast and stupid, like a switchblade. You sit up a little too quickly, the book slipping from your lap and thumping against the bench. Your hands tighten around the cushion.
Robin closes her book with exaggerated slowness. “Who is it then?”
Nami slams her palm flat against the open page. In massive, block-lettered fury—underlined, circled, and highlighted in two shades of orange and one aggressive yellow—it reads:
Zoro’s Secret Girlfriend
(ongoing investigation – DO NOT TOUCH)
Below it is a bulleted list—no, an attack plan—of dates, observations, and “suspicious interactions.” You recognize some of them. A late dinner. A training session at dusk. The time Zoro walked into the lounge with wet hair and didn’t immediately complain about how tired he was.
Then, the kicker.
“It has to be Vivi,” Nami says, voice deadly serious.
You blink. “I’m sorry?”
She jabs her finger at the journal like she’s unveiling classified intel. “Zoro was acting weird the day we got the letter from Alabasta. All twitchy. And he left dinner early.”
“Because Luffy threw a banana at his face,” You mutter. This is the first time you've looked at her list in detail, and it's impressive. You're shocked at the level of dedication she's applied to the topic of Zoro's love life.
She ignores you. “And Vivi always smiled at him weirdly. You remember that, right?” She flips two pages, finding her next piece of so-called evidence. “Right here. Drum Kingdom. They disappeared at the same time for almost twenty minutes.”
“That was two years ago. They were getting firewood,” Robin points out, sipping her tea. She doesn’t sound particularly invested, but there’s a dangerous glint in her eye. You don’t know if it’s from amusement or malice. Probably both.
Nami waves her off. “So they say. But we can’t trust that.”
You cover your mouth under the pretense of rubbing your nose, just to keep the bubbling laughter at bay. Your cheeks are starting to ache.
“And the jacket?” Robin asks, tilting her head. “Would Vivi have sent it back just to—what—taunt you?”
Nami’s eyes narrow. She considers that.
“That is strange,” She mutters, tapping her pen against her chin. “But maybe it’s part of a long game. A signal. She sent the jacket as a memento—like a silent claim.” She snaps her fingers. “It’s genius, actually. Classic misdirection.”
You stare at her, mouth parted, a strangled noise somewhere in your throat. The very idea of Vivi sending Zoro anything—let alone one of his most disgusting pieces of clothing—is so far removed from reality it circles back to being impressive.
Robin covers a chuckle with her tea.
Nami beams, proud of her conspiracy. “We’ll know for sure when we dock next. If he gets mail from Alabasta, we’ll have confirmation.”
“I think you might be reading into this a little too much,” You offer carefully, voice tight.
Nami throws you a look. “You’re still on the suspect list, you know.”
You lift your brows. “I feel honoured.”
She narrows her eyes at you but doesn’t push. Instead, she closes the notebook with a decisive thud and marches off with purpose.
Once she’s gone, Robin leans toward you, voice low and amused. “You nearly cracked a rib holding that in.”
You drop your head back with a groan. “She thinks it’s Vivi. I can’t—”
“It’s not your fault you’re a better liar than Zoro.”
“I’m not even lying!”
“Not saying something is still a lie,” Robin says, smiling into her cup. “Just a polite one.”
You sigh, covering your face. “This is going to explode eventually.”
“Oh, absolutely.”
You lower your hands. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
Robin’s smile sharpens. “Of course I am.”
—
That night, you sneak into the crow’s nest with two mugs of tea and a plan to make fun of Nami, only to find Zoro already there, sprawled out across the floor like he owns the place.
He’s shirtless—of course he is—sweat-slick from training and radiating the kind of smugness that should be illegal after sundown. His swords are leaning up in the corner, and the faint scent of steel, wood polish, and the body soap you forced on him lingers in the air.
You pause in the doorway, catching your breath before stepping in like you weren’t just eavesdropping three hours ago on a whispered theory that placed Vivi as his mysterious girlfriend.
Now, Nami's going stir-crazy in the galley. You left her there after watching her frantically pin strings and photos to the wall for an hour. Robin took over watching her so you could come see Zoro.
“She thinks it’s Vivi now,” You announce, sliding the door shut behind you and making your way over.
Zoro cracks one eye open, unimpressed but curious. “Why?”
You hand him one of the mugs, fingers brushing as you pass it off. “She made a crime board.”
He sits up just enough to take the tea from you, tilting it toward his mouth. “A what?”
“A full conspiracy setup. Pins. Strings. Timeline. She’s gone full investigator. Sanji’s involved, too. Robin’s watching it like it’s live theatre.”
Zoro takes a long, slow sip of his drink. “That’s some serious delusion.”
“She circled Vivi’s name in red ink.” You sit down beside him, tucking your legs beneath you. “Twice.”
He grunts like he might actually be impressed.
You rest your mug on your knee and glance over at him. “We could clear it up.”
Zoro doesn’t look at you, but his fingers find the edge of your mug, thumb grazing where yours rests near the handle. It’s barely a touch, but it’s familiar now.
You don’t pull away.
“We will,” He says, voice quiet and low.
You raise a brow. “When? After they accuse Chopper?”
He doesn’t answer that. Just turns his head enough to meet your gaze.
“But I like this,” He says instead.
You blink. “Lying?”
“No.” He holds your stare. “Us.”
Your throat tightens, like your body’s bracing for something heavier than the silence.
You could say something honest. Something dumb. Something real.
But then he smirks, that slow, stupid, smug thing he does when he knows he’s rattled you, and adds, “Besides. Watching them unravel is better than those trash romance comics you read.”
You blink once. Twice.
Then you punch his arm, full force.
He doesn’t even flinch.
“Those comics are educational,” You say, deadpan.
Zoro sips his tea like he didn’t just get assaulted.
“Sure they are.”
You roll your eyes, but you’re already smiling. The warmth of the tea seeps into your fingers. The warmth of him is worse—closer, heavier, unspoken.
And maybe you’ll tell them.
Eventually.
But for now, you sit side by side in the quiet, sipping tea under the stars like there’s nothing to hide at all.
—
It happens, of course, when you least expect it.
The Sunny is anchored just off the coast of a quiet island, one of those sleepy little towns with sun-faded paint and overripe fruit stands. The crew is gathered on deck, full from lunch and dozing in patches of sun. There’s laughter, easy and echoing, and for once, everything feels still.
Which is exactly why it can’t last.
“Alright,” Nami announces, slamming her journal on the deck beside the lounge chair with the weight of divine judgment. “I’ve narrowed it down to two people.”
You, unfortunately, are within earshot.
Across the deck, Zoro is lying flat against the grass-green towel Sanji passive-aggressively laid out for him. He’s pretending to nap. He’s also terrible at pretending.
“Two?” Robin asks, mild and amused. She doesn’t even look up from her book.
“Yes.” Nami taps her pen like a war drum. “It’s either Vivi—”
“Oh my god,” You murmur, inhaling sharply.
“—or you.”
The silence that follows is sharp.
You look up from your drink. Slowly.
Sanji chokes. “What?!”
Brook drops his violin. Usopp sits up like he’s been shocked. Chopper squeaks. Luffy blinks twice, then points at you. “Wait. You?”
You sigh. “Define you.”
“You’ve been wearing his jacket,” Nami says, like she’s unveiling a murder weapon. “You made tea for him. You blushed when I said he was seeing someone.”
You glance at Robin. She’s smiling into her book. Traitor.
Zoro, still flat on his towel, opens one eye. “Are we done?”
“We are not done,” Nami snaps. “I demand an answer.”
The crew is looking at you now. Seven pairs of eyes, wide and waiting.
And honestly? You’re tired.
Of ducking glances and dodging questions. Of pretending Zoro doesn’t sneak into the galley at night to make you his weird version of tea. Of acting like your pulse doesn’t skip every time his hand brushes yours—even now, even here, in front of them.
So, you take a breath.
And then—without fanfare, without ceremony—you walk across the deck, past the gawking stares and dropped jaws, and drop to a crouch beside Zoro.
He looks up at you, calm. Familiar. A tiny, knowing smirk playing on his mouth.
You roll your eyes.
Then you lean down and press a kiss to his cheek. "I liked it better when they didn’t know.”
There’s a pause.
Then chaos.
“WHAT THE HELL—”
“Zoro?! You—?!”
“MY HEART—!”
“Why not me?!” Sanji sobs.
Luffy is clapping. Chopper is spinning in circles. Usopp is screaming about betrayal. Brook is composing a heartbreak ballad in real time.
Robin closes her book with a content sigh. “Finally.”
Zoro just closes his eyes again, smug and unbothered.
You sit beside him, arms loosely wrapped around your knees, letting the noise roll over you.
And despite everything—despite the shouting and the flailing and the fact that Sanji might never recover—you smile.
Hi I've been on a Brett Talbot kick and you're one of the best writers I've seen write for him. I was wondering (if you still write for him of course) if you could possibly do a fic where the main character is close friends with not only Liam but also Lori and so Brett is torn between loving his little sister's best friend and his worst enemies best friend? Of course only if you're okay with it! Thank you for taking the time to read my request <3
'Put Me First' - Brett Talbot
masterlist
You know your life is getting too busy when you forget about the werewolves. It’s been a tiring day out of a tiring week in a tiring month, full of too many plans and too many people. You’ve got tests coming up, extracurricular club activities, family gatherings, and nights out with friends. You swore you’d get lunch with the girls from history class, and your best friend Lori’s been dragging you to her brother’s lacrosse games because she hates going alone. It feels like you hardly have a waking hour without something to do.
If you think about it, it’s totally reasonable that a few things might slip through the cracks. You’re just happy you haven’t missed any doctor’s appointments or long-standing commitments. Maybe a homework or two has been hastily finished in the moments before your teacher walks around the class to collect, or you’ve had to rush home too late at night because curfew hasn’t been a thing in your mind for the past few months.
Still, when your good friend, Liam Dunbar, starts griping about how tonight is going to be rough, you probably should’ve clued into what he was talking about. In your defense, you were trying to finish up some pre-calculus problems, and Liam’s always muttering about something or other, so you weren’t entirely paying attention.
The jig was up when he started asking you for advice. “I don’t know how I’m going to handle it this time,” Liam groans. “What should I do? Go to Scott, maybe? Beg for help? He’ll lecture me about focus again, but I might just have to deal with it.”
Your attention’s still on the math paper in front of you. “Might as well, right? Scott’s always had your back.”
Liam makes a face. “I know, but tonight is special, you know what I mean? Do you really think going to him is best?”
You do not know what he means. Truthfully, you lost track of whatever he was talking about at least ten minutes ago. You try desperately to guess what tonight could bring, and at last your mind catches on an idea. It’s got to be another lacrosse game, right? Devonford Prep is playing Beacon Hills High tonight, meaning you get the joy of watching Lori’s favorite team try to kill Liam’s favorite team. It’s always awkward whenever Brett tackles one of the Beacon Hills players and you have to decide whether to clap along with Lori or avoid Liam calling you out for supporting the wrong side.
“I think you should go to Scott,” you say as reassuringly as you can. “I mean, he knows what he’s doing, right? That’s why he was captain for so long. No one knows the game like him.”
Liam blinks at you in dull surprise. “What are you talking about?”
Shoot. Looks like you miscalculated the situation. “You are talking about the lacrosse game, right?”
Liam groans. “No, you idiot, I’m talking about tonight.”
You stare at him cautiously. “Yes. Tonight. We all know what’s tonight.”
Liam presses his hand to his forehead in annoyance. “It’s the full moon, Y/N.”
You wince. “Right, yes. The full moon. I knew that.”
Liam rolls his eyes. “No way you forgot. I’ve been dreading it for days, I know you heard me complaining.”
“I’m sorry,” you say honestly. “It slipped my mind. Even still, I think you can handle it. You’re going to try to play in the game anyway, right? Even with the moon at its peak?”
“That’s what I can’t decide,” Liam says, clearly relieved to have you back on the same page. “I mean, Scott did it all the time, but he always had better control than I did, and..”
Against your better judgment, you start to zone out again. It’s not like you don’t care about Liam’s struggles with control over his wolf, you do, but there’s just always so much else going on that it’s hard to focus. Truth be told, you’ve been crazy stressed for a long time now, and you’re sort of getting tired of always having to drop everything for the wolf pack. Sure, you’re not the one with hunters always after you, and you’ve never had to fear what you’ve done the morning after a full moon, but you do hate how you always get sidelined for supernatural business. Just once, you’d like to matter. Just once, you want to be someone’s priority.
You manage to leave soon enough, promising Liam that he’s making the right call to reach out to Scott for help at tonight’s game. You do all the studying you can, but it seems like just a moment has passed before you’re leaving again, reluctantly trading your books and notes for the blinding lights of the lacrosse field.
Lori finds you once you arrive, having already saved you a preferable seat on the Devenford Prep side. “Looks like it should be an intense game,” she says excitedly. “Who do you think’s going to win?”
You stare out at the field, where both teams are wrapping up their warmups. Every game between your two schools is exceptionally violent, likely due to the extraordinary rivalry between Brett and Liam. All it takes is two werewolf captains, and suddenly a sports game becomes a battlefield.
“As long as no one walks away with too many maimings, I’ll consider that a win,” you murmur back to her.
Lori laughs, then waves exuberantly at her brother down on the field. Brett, having finished his pre-game drills, turns to see the movement in the stands. He grins when he sees his sister, but for some reason seems even more pleased when he spots you next to Lori.
This isn’t missed by Lori, who sighs in mock annoyance. “I swear, he’s always happier when he sees you here cheering him on, not me. It’s not like I’m his sister or anything.”
You roll your eyes. “I find that hard to believe. If anything, he’s just proud to have drafted Liam’s fans to his side. It’s nothing personal.”
Lori raises her eyebrows but wisely says nothing. It is true that Brett always seems particularly satisfied whenever you’re next to Lori in the Devenford Prep stands. You had assumed he wouldn’t want you there, given that you don’t actually attend his school, but Lori had assured you countless times that he didn’t mind, so you’d ended up sticking around. You’ve only had the chance to talk every now and then, usually while you’re waiting for Lori to show up, but he’s always been kind to you.
It’s not that you were expecting him to be cruel, you know Lori loves him, but you’ve heard so much from Liam’s side of the story that you assumed Brett would lump you in with his violent ex-teammate and treat you accordingly. Liam’s certainly complained bitterly whenever he sees you in any connection to Brett, but Liam’s always been a firecracker. You may be the best friend of Brett’s enemy, but Brett still sees you as, well, you. It’s kind of nice.
The game begins with a shrill blow of a whistle, and thankfully Lori’s too busy cheering on her brother to keep teasing you. Liam must have decided to talk to Scott for advice on handling the full moon after all, he’s still having issues with his anger but he’s certainly better than he was last month. You’re choosing not to remember the aftermath of that particular full moon-fuelled rage, but it did result in a three game suspension, and you’ve never heard the end of it. Liam says that the refs overreacted, but you’re not sure he gets to argue that point when he sent four players to the emergency room on one bad play.
The game is close, but at the end, Devenford Prep manages to eke out a victory over Beacon Hills. Lori rises to her feet, yelling exuberantly, and you send a few sympathetic glances Liam’s way. Not that he sees it, anyway, he’s already stomping off the field with the rest of your hometown players. You wince at the sight, knowing he’ll probably go run off somewhere to deal with his unvanquished anger. Then he’ll go missing and you’ll get it from Scott and Stiles since you’re supposed to be watching over him, as if they don’t know that keeping Liam out of trouble is a Herculean endeavor even when it isn’t a full moon.
You join the crowds in filing out of the bleachers. Lori thanks you for coming and says she’s going to go talk to some of her friends from class about a homework assignment, so you say your goodbyes for the evening. You take your time, lingering around the Beacon Hills side, but it doesn’t seem like any of them will be leaving the locker room anytime soon, so you give up on trying to keep Liam’s head on his shoulders.
You assume everyone you know has already left, so it comes as a surprise when someone calls your name across the quickly emptying parking lot. You turn around to see Brett of all people, walking towards you with a grin.
“There you are,” he says. “You haven’t seen Lori, have you?”
You shake your head. “I think she left with some of her other friends. Sorry.”
You assume that’s all he wants from you, but, if anything, Brett seems happy to know that his sister won’t be trailing after you. “No, no, that’s alright. Thanks for coming tonight, by the way. Even if it just meant you had to watch me kick your team’s ass.”
You laugh at that. “No harm done. It’s not your fault we need to get our act together.”
“See, I tried to tell Beacon Hills that, but they didn’t take it too well,” Brett says, tilting his head in mock confusion.
“Is that why Liam tried to tackle you after the halt?” You ask. “You told him to just play better?”
Brett frowns. “Actually, I don’t know. I lost count of how many times he tried to kill me.”
You roll your eyes. “Not surprising.”
Brett looks delighted with this. “Don’t tell me you’ve noticed his little anger problem, too? He isn’t driving you back after this, is he? I’m worried the odds of him hitting a pedestrian or two might be elevated.”
You laugh, even though you shouldn’t, and shake your head. “No, I’m pretty sure Liam’s long gone. I’m safe for tonight.”
Brett’s brow furrows. “Wait, if Liam and Lori are both gone, how are you getting back?”
You make a face. “I was just trying to figure that out, actually. I don’t live that far away, I’ll probably walk back.”
Brett shakes his head at once. “Not a chance. It’s dark out, you shouldn’t be walking back on your own. I’ll drive you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you say, surprised. “Besides, I assume you’re going to celebrate your win with your team, I can’t take you away from that.”
“We celebrate a lot,” Brett says smugly. “I can miss a few. Anyway, I want to.”
Before you can protest any more, Brett reaches into his pocket, holding up his car keys and twirling them on a finger. “I’m ready to go if you are. No arguments.”
You give in with a reluctant smile. “If you insist–”
“I do,” Brett interrupts with a smile, and leads you to his car.
You think this is the most time you’ve spent alone with Brett before, but everything seems easy with him. The conversation flows naturally, he makes you laugh, he asks all sorts of questions about you and what you’ve been doing today and what you like as if he really cares about the answers. You find yourself relaxing more minute by minute, letting yourself enjoy the simple privilege of spending time with him.
The dark night flies by outside the windows of Brett’s car, but you couldn’t feel lighter by his side, watching the street lights turn from green to red and back again. All too soon, you’re pointing out which house is yours, and he’s slowing to a stop in your driveway.
You hesitate for a second in your seat, not entirely wanting to leave him behind, but Brett’s two steps ahead of you, already bounding out from behind the wheel and around to open your car door for you.
You laugh in spite of yourself. “Thank you. Such a gentleman.”
“Tell that to Liam,” Brett says with a grin, and walks you up your driveway to your door.
The two of you pause over the welcome mat, wondering how to make this moment last any longer. “Thanks again for driving me,” you say quietly.
“Any time,” Brett says. “I mean it. If you’re ever out late somewhere, I’d rather come get you then have something happen. There’s a lot of dangerous stuff out there.”
“Trust me, I know,” you say with a sigh. “I’ve seen enough with Scott and Liam to freak me out forever.”
Brett nods. “I still think it’s cool that you help them out so often. Even though you’re human, you still risk your life to keep them safe. They must be super grateful.”
“One would think,” you say with a forced laugh.
“That’s their loss,” Brett says with a rush. “I still– I mean, you saved me and Lori from those hunters, plus the Deadpool. You didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I did,” you say. “I couldn’t let you get hurt.”
“Is it really a surprise that I might feel the same way?” Brett asks softly, one hand rising to gently tilt your face towards his. “Look, I know you’re Lori’s friend– and, fuck, Liam’s– but if you ever wanted to be more–”
He’s just a breath away from you, and with one last rush of courage, you close the gap. You can’t say that you expected to end tonight by kissing Brett Talbot, but once you’ve done it, you don’t ever want to stop. There’s a heady rush building in your chest, intoxicating and real and yours, all yours. The stars shine on you from far above, and finally, finally, you’ve found someone to put you first.
requested by @jennapancake, i hope you enjoy!
teen wolf tag list: @mayfieldss, @blondsauduun, @lovesanimals0000, @rafecameronswhore, @bellabadacadabra, @watchreadfangirlrepeat, @23victoria
I would like to request a Reggie Peters x female reader imagine. It takes place in the 90’s. For plot sake, I’m pretending the boys didn’t drop out of high school but are still in the band. Reader is on the cheerleading squad but isn’t the head cheerleader. Reggie has a crush on her but gets flustered when he tries to ask her out, much to Luke’s amusement. At a party, Reggie runs into reader and gets flustered while talking to her. Luke asks her out on Reggie’s behalf, and she says yes.
Daydreaming - Reggie Peters
masterlist
In complete honesty, Reggie Peters has absolutely no idea what he’s been rehearsing. He hasn’t had a clue for the past hour, maybe more. Since the moment he woke up this morning, all he wanted was to close his eyes and go right back to sleep. If Reggie can’t have what he wants in real life, then he wants to spend as much time dreaming as possible, regardless of whether that’s at night or, say, in the middle of band practice.
He thought he’d been doing a decent job of hiding his lack of focus, but that idea is blown out of the water when something soft collides with his head. Reggie jolts back to life, starting to complain about injuries until he realizes he hasn’t been hit by a basketball or book but a baseball cap. Namely, the cap Alex Mercer was wearing right until he got annoyed out of nowhere and lobbed it at Reggie’s face.
Reggie blinks at him balefully. “Hey, that hurt,” he complains.
Alex rolls his eyes. “No it didn’t. Hats don’t hurt. What hurts are my feelings, since you’ve been ignoring me for the last half hour!”
Reggie sputters. “I have not been ignoring you!”
“Great,” Luke interrupts, “so you’ve just been off in dreamland again. As usual. Seriously, man, what’s got you under its spell? It’s like you’re concussed.”
Reggie sighs. “Sorry, guys. I just lost my train of thought, that’s all. I’m still totally serious about making sure ‘Now or Never’ sounds perfect, I promise.”
Reggie thought he’d made a good save, but instead, the other boys just sigh. Luke drags a frustrated hand across his head. “We stopped rehearsing ‘Now or Never’ twenty minutes ago, you idiot. We’re onto ‘Get Lost,’ which you’d know if you were paying attention to us at all.”
“In his defense, I think Reggie actually did get lost. Just, like, mentally,” Alex snickers.
Reggie tosses him a dirty look. “I am very focused. Now, that is. Come on, let’s go again.”
Luke just stares at him hopelessly. “What are we going to do with you, man? I haven’t seen you this dazed and confused since you saw Y/N L/N at the cheerleading showcase last pep rally and fell down the bleachers by accident.”
Reggie blinks a little too quickly. “That’s crazy. I’ve never fallen down any stairs, and certainly not when there were cheerleaders around.”
It’s too late to seize control of the situation, though, because Alex is snapping his fingers in recollection, grinning diabolically at Reggie. “That’s right, I remember the bleacher incident! That’s why you’re spacing out right now, isn’t it? You’re not thinking about the band, you’re daydreaming about Y/N.”
“I am not,” Reggie insists, but it’s out of his hands.
Luke laughs delightedly. “Come on, Reggie, get yourself together! It’s one thing to spend every class period thinking about her, but during practice, too? Is there any hour in the day when you’re not loopy over that girl?”
“I’m not loopy,” Reggie pouts. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about. Y/N who? Is that, uh, someone from class?”
Alex snorts. “You know exactly who she is. Y/N L/N, cheerleader, victim of your little crush. You know, that Y/N?”
Reggie groans loudly, grabbing Alex’s fallen hat off the ground and hurling it back at the blond boy to cover up the blush rising to his cheeks. It does no good, though, everyone here knows that Alex isn’t lying. Not even close.
See, ever since Reggie met Y/N, he’s been absolutely head over heels. It took him one conversation to develop a debilitating crush, and the thought of simply snapping out of it has been impossible. Not when he knows how nice she is, the way she smiled at him when saying hi, the lilt of her voice when she said her name–
Yeah, it’s all over. Alex and Luke know that, too, which is why they seem to find true happiness in harassing Reggie about it. It’s not like Reggie meant to crush on Y/N, he just can’t seem to stop doing it. Who could, anyway?
He only gets to see her a few times each week. They have one or two classes in common, but their social circles don’t really overlap. Y/N sticks with her cheerleader friends, and Reggie’s bound for life to his brothers in Sunset Curve. Every now and then, he’ll be leaving an instrument practice room late just when she’s wrapping up cheer practice, and maybe their paths will cross, and maybe she’ll say hi or just wave from across the field, and just like that, his entire day is made. It’s stupid, he knows that, but there’s no crushing the flood of butterflies to his stomach whenever Y/N so much as looks his way.
However, Alex and Luke are right, band practice is no time to be thinking about his crush. There’ll be plenty of time for that later, absentmindedly doodling hearts in the margins of his notebook or trailing after her like a lovesick puppy (Luke’s words, not his) after class. So, after much persuasion to get the boys to drop the topic, Reggie manages to steer his thoughts back to their songs and off of the girl he loves. Mostly.
This only works so well when she’s nowhere to be seen. The next day, Reggie is hastily packing up his things after the dismissal bell from history class when he accidentally knocks a pencil off his desk. He goes to pick it up, only to find that someone’s picked it up first, and that someone is Y/N.
“I think you dropped this,” she says helpfully, holding out the fallen pencil.
Reggie stares at her. He should say something nice, he should thank her, but too many words all bubble up in his throat and nothing comprehensible is said at all. “You– you should– do you want to go–”
Y/N furrows her brow. She’s not being mean, just confused, as any human being would be upon hearing the absolute deluge of words that just came out of Reggie’s mouth. “Sorry, what was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”
Reggie has to leave the country. “Just– just wanted to say thanks. Yeah. Thanks.”
She smiles again, and Reggie feels weak in the knees. “No problem!”
With that, she’s gone again, leaving Reggie gazing longingly after her. His fingers seem to burn where hers brushed against his when handing over the pencil. He has no idea how long he would have stayed there, dazzled, until he hears Luke laughing uproariously behind him.
“What on Earth was that?” Luke asks, wiping back tears of mirth. “I’m asking honestly, because I’ve never heard words put together like that in my life.”
Reggie scowls, grabbing his backpack and heading into the hall. “I was trying to ask her out.”
Luke grins even wider, if that was possible. “No. You actually got up the nerve to do it?”
“Obviously not,” Reggie gripes. “I’m a total mess around her. Could hardly get one word out.”
Luke claps him on the back. “Chin up, Reg. Despite all odds, she still seems to like you.”
“Really?” Reggie asks, the embarrassment of the failed conversation instantly gone from his mind. “You think so?”
Luke sighs. “I can hardly believe it, but yeah, I do think she likes you. What are you going to do about it?”
“I have no idea,” Reggie says despairingly. “I actually have no idea.”
After all, how could he possibly ask her out when he can’t even get through one sentence around her? It’s hopeless, totally hopeless. His mood drops and drops throughout the week until the boys take pity on him and drag him to a party Friday night for “motivation,” or so Alex claims. Mainly, it seems like an excuse to hear somewhat decent music and disperse Solo cups throughout someone’s house until they all get bored and go home.
The party is fine enough. Reggie is almost convincing himself to have a good time when someone taps him on the shoulder. He wheels around to see Y/N smiling at him, and just like that, Reggie’s never been better.
“What’re you doing here?” Reggie asks, too baffled to try and play it cool.
Y/N laughs. “I could ask you the same thing. I didn’t know you were friends with Alicia.”
Alicia, Reggie vaguely remembers, is the resident of the house they’re currently trampling. “Oh, yeah,” he says, “Luke’s been tutoring her in piano. She invited us as a thank-you. How about you?”
Y/N smiles. “That’s cool, I didn’t know Alicia knew piano! She’s on my cheer squad.”
This strikes Reggie as something that he probably should have known, but it’s not as if he’s looking at anyone else but Y/N at any football game or pep rally.
All of a sudden, the music seems way too loud, the bodies pressed far too close together. “D’you want to get some air?” He shouts over the beat to Y/N, gesturing towards a door.
She nods and they escape onto the back porch. Y/N takes a seat on the top stair, Reggie right beside her. The party is still buzzing somewhere behind him, but it feels cut off from them now, a different world entirely of heat and sound and chaos. Out here, it’s pleasantly cool, the air seeming to vibrate blue with the night.
He’s also suddenly aware of how quiet it is, and rushes to fill the silence. “It’s nice that you’re all so close on the cheer team,” Reggie says. “I also love, uh, having friends.”
Y/N beams at once. “You have no idea. It’s like having a dozen extra sisters. Sometimes we argue over silly things, but for the most part we all get along really well. It’s so much fun to travel together to games and stuff that we’ve become super close.”
“I know what you mean,” Reggie says. “My band and I, we’re pretty close too.”
Y/N looks over at him curiously. “I didn’t know you were in a band! That’s so cool, Reggie.”
She thinks he’s cool. Reggie might die. “We’re just messing around, mostly. Our big dream is to play at the Orpheum, but it feels like that’s a long time coming.”
“I think you can do it,” Y/N says.
“Really?” Reggie says, quite surprised.
“Really,” Y/N says. “You seem like you could do anything if you wanted.”
“Not anything,” Reggie whispers mostly to himself, then instantly regrets it when Y/N looks at him curiously.
“What?” Y/N asks.
“Nothing,” Reggie says hurriedly. “That was– I didn’t mean anything. No.”
She’s smiling a little, but it doesn’t feel mean-spirited. “Come on, tell me! We’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Yeah,” Reggie says dreamily, then remembers. “No, I mean. Yes, we’re friends, but no, I can’t tell you. Because there’s nothing to tell, I mean. Say, don’t the stars look nice tonight? What’s your favorite–”
Y/N cuts him off, laughing slightly. “Come on, don’t change the topic. What were you going to say?”
Reggie shakes his head. “No, nothing. Something stupid. Like, if you ever wanted to go out sometime, or something.”
For a moment, Reggie is too terrified to even look at Y/N, so he stares fixatedly at a patch of grass in the yard nearby. Then, his curiosity gets the better of him, and he risks a glance her way, only to find that she’s smiling at him. Smiling. Like, happy. Like, she likes him after all, and Luke was right, despite all odds.
“I’d like to go out with you,” Y/N says softly.
“Great,” Reggie says decisively, then cringes inwardly. “I mean, that sounds good. Very cool,” he says coolly.
Y/N’s eyes dance in the starlight. “Very cool to me too.”
Reggie can’t believe this is happening. For once, he doesn’t have to live in his daydreams to know that Y/N likes him back, she actually does, and better yet, he actually has a date with her coming up soon. Suddenly, dreaming sounds like an absolute waste of time. All Reggie wants to do is stay awake in this wonderful world in which he wins, he asks Y/N out at last, and she says yes. It’s better than a dream. It’s real.
requested by @thornyrose463, i hope you enjoy!
jatp tag list: @blondsauduun, @retvenkos, @caswinchester2000, @lovesanimals0000, @eclliipsed
A/N: Not proof read. MDNI | 18+ only. This fic is in response to an ask:
"hellooo!!! Btw the aesthetic of ur page is just-😙👨🍳*chefs kiss* could you write a Chandler bing fan fiction where the reader and Chandler are best friends and the reader gets a boyfriend and Chandler gets jealous! Thank you have a good day<33"
-hope you enjoy this nonny! 💛
Hanging out at Monica's apartment has usually been a stress-free affair. Eat good food, and there's always food. Monica insists on you helping yourself.
"Just don't let Joey near this cabinet" she had said, her beautiful eyes, serious. You nodded, as Rachel chuckled behind you.
But you just had to be self-aware. While Joey and his food was a relationship you admired, you knew you wanted more. Not from Joey. But his other half. The one and only, Chandler Bing.
Aka your bestfriend since Monica took you home after a grueling shift at the resturant.
You fit in seamlessly into the group- your interest in cooking and your coordination with the kitchen helped her massively (she's impressed, competency kink goes brr). Not only that, yours and Rachels woes of waitressing had been a topic of great sympathy between the blonde and you.
Chandler came along unexpectedly. Your sensitive nature somehow not exploited by his humor, not in public atleast. In private?
Oh he went for it. And you gave it back as good as you got. Your duel of wit a secret between the two of you.
Ross caught y'all once but he was so into Rachel that he missed the subtle hint of tension in the room.
That or you imagined Chandlers eyes widening and his voice getting raspy. Or you were being your delusional self.
Coming back to the matter of your stress-
You had a date. Not with Chandler. While it made you sad, right now you were just stressed.
Dave was good. He made you smile. He held doors open for you. He subtly checked you out and complimented you in a way that made you feel wanted. That was missing.
Phoebe told you and the whole group-
"YN get laid, you just need to be pounded into the mattress and you're golden".
As unhinged it was. It was all you needed to say yes to Dave. If things went good- you'd get your night of passion. If they didn't, well, nothing to lose you thought.
The only catch? He was gonna pick you up from Monica's apartment. The same apartment where the whole group was gonna be in approximately 5 minutes.
Rachel was already here and showering. Phoebe sat next to you, figuring out how to change the channel (Ross sat on the remote and did not replace it like he promised, Monica still didn't know).
And then, the door opened, Ross entering the flat, Joey in tow.
"Hello guys, hot pizzas waiting to be devoured, courtesy Ross Geller- bon appetite!" Ross exclaimed setting the pizzas on the dining table. Joey opened one of them, tearing into the pizza.
"Mmhmm, delicious pie" he said, mouthful.
Phoebe got up to pick a slice asking you if you wanted one, you shook your head no. She sighed.
So, the girls knew of your crush on the resident sarcastic clown. And while Rachel and Monica wanted you to profess your undying love for Chandler, Phoebe just eh'd- "babe you can do better".
Unbeknownst to you, Phoebe tsked Ross behind you; "Where's Chandler Bing?"
"Why are you government naming him, Pheebs?"
"Because" she said, eyes squinting and then sighing, "YN is stressed about her date-"
"The date Chandler still doesn't know about?" Ross says smug
"Geller, smug doesn't suit you, where's he?"
"He's gonna be here in 5 minutes"
"Her dates gonna be here any minute now" Phoebe exclaims, whisper shouting.
"C'mon Pheebs, it's New York, and it's Dave" Ross says enunciating Dave like a prep schooler.
"And?" Phoebe, ever the goon, crosses her arms against her chest.
"Well, people get late and Dave sounds like a name that's late to places" Ross completed, pouty (and scared).
Just as you contemplated hiding in Monica's room the bell rang and your panic aside you noticed how the room went still. The residents (uninvited ones) went still too.
The door opened and in walked in, Monica. Keys in hand.
"Why'd you ring the bell!" Phoebe shouted
"Because I had to pee! And I couldnyfind my keys!" she says running towards the bathroom and getting in.
Cue the screams, Rachel could be heard saying, just a moment later- "Mon, this isn't your shampoo!"
"I didn't ask! I need to pee!" Monica exclaimed right back.
Ross scruched his face as Joey looked on, smug.
"Rach and Mon in the washroom together", he says, more to himself.
You scrunched your face at that. But then, your boy (not really but in your head the both of you were sharing his recliner as he fed you popcorn and you guys watched movies)
You boy, had similar fantasies, something he shared with you, when you cornered him.
Boy was be easy to bully and make blush.
The bell rang again,
Ross opened the door, Phoebe giddy as he looked at her smug again.
What was with your friends and these secrets smirks?
He opens the door and in walked in- your worst nightmare.
Chandler, with Dave in tow.
Chandler did not look happy as he stared at you and then looked away as Dave greeted y'all.
"Hello Joey, Ross, Phoebe" he nods sweetly at them to before zeroing in on you.
"And hello beautiful" he's now kissing your cheek
"Don't tell me your forgot your dates name, Dave" Chandler says, sitting on the dining table next to Phoebe.
"Oh hell naw, this woman right here- she's YN, been thinking of her too much to forget"
You giggle at his words, and can hear the boys groan and Phoebe sigh.
You can also hear the Monica and Rachel who were arguing in the bathroom go still and awww.
Your eyes meet Chandlers and he stares back and at your unwavering gaze, his eyes moved to Dave who was offered pizza and took it from Ross.
Your eyes didn't leave his. Unknown to you, Joey and Phoebe were looking at you, looking at Chandler.
Dave finishing his piece of pie, looked to you; "Let's roll?"
"Yeah, let me go grab my jacket"
As you, went into Monica's room to grab her denim jacket, you heard Phoebe slap someone.
When you can out, you found Dave confused, talking to Ross and Chandler nursing the side of his arm.
Joey was staring down at Dave.
"Let's go Dave" you sighed, done with your friends behaviour for the night, more than that, done w Chandlers stares and lack of well, words to you.
Come to think of it, he didn't speak much at all apart from prodding Dave. Then again, prodding new comers was his speciality. Stupid awakward charming dork.
As Dave and you made your way outside and walked down the stairs, you realized you forgot your purse in Monica's room.
"Let me go grab it Dave, I'll be with you in a sec"
You made your way upstairs but were stopped by Chandler mid flight.
"Chan?" you asked
"Hey, you- you what are you- Dave! Where's Dave?"
You sighed.
"He's downstairs, I forgot my purse, I know you get joy from tormenting my dates, but can we not, today?" you say making your way up, but as you reached the stair he was on her grabbed you.
"Your dates torment me actually" he whispers, given your proximity, you can smell the mint he loves to chew, post smoke.
"Chandler can you not? Don't dissect my tastes now, not before a date" you say, resolute on not letting him get into your head.
"You don't have great taste YN" he says, gently pulling, your hand on his chest, as he backs you up the wall.
"Insulting and rude and I'm getting late, Chandler." you say, hinting he needs to get a move on.
"I'm rude as hell, I know" he says and at your confused look, continues
"I don't know what are the right things to say most times. Hell, I don't even know what are the right things to say to you, the one I feel the most comfortable with, next to Joey but-"
You scoff.
"Like I said, I don't know the best. But I do know this, YN- and I hope you're listening, I like you. A whole lot. You're my best friend, my puzzle partner and God I'd love you to be more. I want you to give me a chance. Fuck these dates doll"
You laugh at his use of doll and nuzzle into his chest as he looks at you, smelling your shampoo.
"Did you just call me doll?"
"Yeah? I could also call you Barbie? But that's not a common pet name"
"You're a dork"
"Good thing that's your type"
"God Chan, I want to, I can't tell you how long I waited for you to say these words"
"What insult your tastes?" he says and you slap his chest, making him yelp.
Dave, calls up then-
"Babe? All okay?"
Chandler sighs, inconvenienced by your planned date between his unplanned confession.
"I have a date to see through Chan"
"No you don't"
"Chandler, let me go now-"
Just as you complete you sentence you bear Chandler-
"Dave, you want free pizza? YN and I just confessed to each other that we like each other, drinks and free food, on me- I'll even set you up with the weird blonde by the table ".
Silence.
Then,
"Okay" and you see Dave make his way up and he looks at you backed up against the wall by Chandler and just says-
"Cool" and walks by, turning back just to ask-
"We got more pepperoni?" he asks Chandler who nods. "T'was nice talking to ya, YN!" he says, walking backwards.
As he turns around and walks away, you look up at Chandler
"Kinda insulted he took it so well."
"Helps that Ross told him you don't put out on the first date, when he asked Ross for advice"
"Oh he was not playing around huh?" you say
"No he wasn't, and I wasn't gonna take a chance" Chandler says nuzzling into your neck.
"Chandler Bing, how dare you!?!" you hear Phoebe's dulcet tones, as Chandler takes your hand and drags you downstairs.
"How do you like burger and fries for our first date, my love?" as he sprints, ahead, hand gently but securely clutching yours.
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.
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.
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 🤍
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
📁 “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.
I’m super curious to see what Friends would be like. (I don’t know why I never thought to look up fanfic of it? But I love your stuff, so I know yours will be good.) I don’t know what even to request though haha. Reader inserts? Or established pairings? Chandler is my favorite. Maybe a reader insert with him? Reader can be a friend of Phoebe’s and maybe it’s a mistaken identity thing? Reader wants to ask out Phoebes funny cute friend. Phoebe thinks it’s Joey but it’s Chandler?
This was in my drafts so I figured I should post it! I hope you find this since you requested it ages ago :(
Wrong person
"Joey! I have news for you!" Phoebe sang as she entered the coffee house. She rushed over to him, shoving Chandler over on the couch so she could sit. Chandler dramatically moved down, making Monica and Ross laugh.
"Tell me! Tell me!" He said excitedly, his hands wagging in the air.
"My friend, Y/N loved meeting you at Monica's party and asked me to give you her number!" Phoebe cheered, handing over the piece of paper with the number.
"Wait Y/N?" Chandler perked up, causing everyone to look at him.
"Yeah, why?" Phoebe asked.
"Nothing! It's just that-that uh- I thought she and I were sorta connecting." Chandler shrugged, trying to not feel disappointed that she was interested in Joey instead. Of course, she was, the girls always picked Joey.
"Oh Chandler, I won't if you like her," Joey said, giving Chandler a comforting smile.
"No, it's fine. She clearly likes you so you should go for it," Chandler smiled, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Monica noticed his sad state and planted a comforting hand on his knee.
"Which one is she again?" Joey asked, the name not ringing any sort of bell.
Before Phoebe could answer, Chandler was daydreaming out loud. "She's the smart and funny one. She made that joke about Baywatch, who knew women even watched that show. She was drinking beer, but only cold. She works with Phoebe at the massage place."
"Thanks, man!" Joey said, not understanding why Chandler remembered every detail. "Didn't want to look stupid when I call her."
Chandler painfully laughed, watching as he walked out of the house with her number. Chandler pretended to grab a knife from the table and jab himself in the chest.
"I'm sorry, Chandler," Phoebe said.
"It's okay, I can't beat Joey."
~
Chandler walked into the apartment and found Joey sitting in the recliner.
"Hey man, how did it go?" Chandler asked, even though the question killed him to ask. He took the open recliner next to him.
Joey turned to him with an excited smile, like he was gifting Chandler a present.
"She doesn't want me!" Chandler looked at Joey confused.
"Then why are you so excited?" Chandler laughed, a part of him happy that she wasn't into Joey. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her in Joey's clothes and having to share a wall.
"Phoebe messed up, she wanted you to get her number!" Joey cheered, "She likes you, man!" Joey planted a congratulating slap on his shoulder.
Chandler couldn't help but smile, "really? She wants to go out with me?"
Joey nodded and handed over the piece of paper, Chandler quickly ran over to the phone.
~
The date was planned and Chandler was nervously pacing in Monica's apartment. He knew he was bad with girls and his fear of commitment held him back.
"Chandler it's the first date, you don't have to marry the girl," Monica explained.
"Just be yourself! She already likes you so the hard part is already done," Joey said, thinking he was giving words of encouragement.
"Chandler, you'll do great," Phoebe encouraged, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Be your charming self and you'll be okay."
Chandler nodded as he tried to soak in their words. He hated how nervous he got when it came to women. Why couldn't it be easy like it was for Joey?
Chandler checked his watch and nodded to himself. "Time to go, wish me luck!"
Chants of good luck filled the room as he walked out of the apartment, walking to the coffee shop.
~
He saw her through the window, sitting beautifully on the big couch. He walked in, catching her attention. She smiled and stood up, he could feel his heart racing from the smile alone.
"I heard you've been asking about me?" He flirted, even though it sounded like a joke. He smiled when she let out a breathy laugh.
"Guilty," she said, together they took a seat. Both were a bit shy as they sat in a quick moment of silence. "Thanks for calling me. I thought Phoebe already knew who I was talking about."
"Eh I don't blame her. Joey usually is the one who gets the calls," Chandler's voice faded out as he thought about it. "But I'm honored to have been the chosen one."
She laughed at his joke, causing him to smile. She shifted so her body was facing him, and just like at the party they jumped right into a conversation.
~
Chandler flew through Monica's apartment with a huge smile. Everyone turned to the open door and questions began to fly.
Before he answered any, he placed his hand on his chest and dramatically declared,
It’s not like I’ve done a lot of searching but this is the first chandler fic I find that’s comically accurate with the show. Must say perfect insert, my brain edited the laughs in as I read along. Love u
The New Years party wasn’t going exactly as everyone planned, everyone had brought dates completely ignoring the pact the group had made but something went wrong with their dates. You were the only one who didn’t actually have a date to bring and actually laughed at everyone when their date went wrong.
You didnt want to bring anyone, not like you had anyone to bring but even if you did you wouldnt. You were barely a party goer anyway so you weren’t expecting anything interesting. You were hoping Chandler would’ve showed up alone to give yourself at least a bit of distraction but no. He brought Janice, his horrible ex girlfriend.
You sat in the middle of Joey and Ross on the couch with Marcel on your lap. “I dont get why you just ask him y/n. It’s new years, you need someone to kiss, he needs someone to kiss, perfect match!” Joey said. Ross nodded watching Marcel jump off my lap and walk around to the other guests, “i agree.”
You shook your head, “he’s my best friend guys it would be weird, theres no way he’d want to do it anyway.” The boys rolled their eyes but you didnt notice, you had gotten up to get another drink, “she has no idea.” Joey whispers to Ross. “Clearly.” Ross whispers back leaning against the back of the couch.
Chandler was talking to some girl about something she clearly wasn’t interested in but you couldn’t hear what it was. You poured yourself a drink and heard Chandler practically yell, “please kiss me at midnight!” You turned around and looked at an annoyed, desperate chandler starting to follow the girl before giving up.
Chandler shook his head then looked up and saw you, anyone else watching him would’ve seen his eyes light up but you didn’t notice. “No luck?” You ask taking a sip of your drink. Chandler laughed, “no she actually said yes.” You laughed softly at his sarcasm, that was one of your favorite things about him.
“Oh guys we only have 2 minutes! Change the channel!” Phoebe yelled to Joey and Ross who both scrambled to get the remote. Eventually the group slowly started migrating to you and chandler. Dick Clark announced that the ball was dropping and Chandler turned towards you and the group, “and the moment of joy is upon us!” “I guess that no date thing worked out.” Joey mumbled. “Everybody looks so happy, i hate that!” Phoebe complained and you nodded agreeing with her. “Not everybody’s happy.” Monica said, “hey bobby!” We all looked at her ex who started sobbing and gesturing her away.
They all started ranting about the kiss and no one seemed to be agreeing but somehow the only thing on your mind was Chandler. “Alright somebody kiss me.” Chandler complained. Everyone started trying to get him to shush but he didn’t, he jumped up and down, “somebody kiss me it’s midnight!” You felt a nudge on your arm and looked over, Joey was gently pushing you towards him and Ross was nodding at you.
“Alright, alright, alright.” You said grabbing his face with your hand and pulling him in, kissing him. Your friends cheered and you expected Chandler to pull away but you felt his hand on your lower back and his other on your waist as he kissed you back.
“Okay, okay enough!” Joey complained and we pulled away, i turned slightly to look at Joey, “congratulations you actually got a kiss at midnight.” He said rolling his eyes, “oh and i thought i was the sarcastic one.” Chandler joked and Joey slapped his shoulder. Chandler laughed and so did the others. “So much for the pact huh?” Ross joked.
Chandlers hand was still on your lower back and it stayed like that the rest of the night, but you weren’t complaining about it.
A/n: thinking of making a part two to this. Let me know 🙈💕
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!
Hiii! Hope ur doing well!!i LOVED the chandler bing storyf its ok i would like to request a c bing story where the reader is laready a part of rhe group and they like eachother with fluff ty
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting ❤️
Crushing
Chandler was used to having bad luck with girls. He spent most of his time running from relationships and only finding comfort with Janice. Most girls he could shove off, but there was one girl that always felt out of his reach.
Y/N
She was a friend of the group and a co-worker of Monica. The first time Monica introduced her, Chandler was in love. He was smitten. She and Chandler clicked immediately, and the chemistry was obvious. Their flirty looks didn't go unnoticed by their friends.
Joey thought she was attractive, as he did with all females, but he knew this girl was meant for Chandler. She understood all his jokes, sometimes beating him to the punchline.
Monica purposely introduced Y/N to Chandler. She thought Y/N was the perfect girl to help Chandler get out of his shell and learn how to fear being in a relationship.
Y/N was attracted to Chandler when their eyes met. He was tall and cute and always made her smile. Monica warned her that he was awkward around girls but to give him a chance. But she didn't need to be convinced to fall for Chandler.
It was obvious to everyone they liked each other. The gang noticed the innocent flirting happening both ways.
"Chandler that shirt looks really nice on you," Y/N said as she softly touched the shirt on his arm. Chandler stiffened but made sure not to move. Nervous under her touch but not having an issue as her fingers rubbed up and down.
Rachel eyed the two as she smiled to herself. It was a simple button-up, and truly Rachel believed he'd worn it a thousand times before.
~
Y/N was telling a story, standing at the coffee counter. Monica listened intensely, and Chandler stood behind Y/N, one arm on the counter as he leaned in to listen. Monica couldn't help but notice how good they looked next to each other. The way Chandler had his arm practically around her, her body trapped in my his like he was protecting her from the back. Barely any space between them.
Monica acted like she didn't notice when Chandler's free hand moved to Y/N's hip, his attention on Joey as he joined. His mind was busy but yet he still had a hand on Y/N, like it was natural.
~~~
"When do you think you'll ask her out?" Ross asked as he took the open spot next to Chandler on Monica's couch.
Chandler looked around the room in a panic, "Who?"
"Y/N, we all know you like her," Ross shrugged, looking down at the newspaper with a teasing smile.
"Who's we?" Chandler asked
"Everyone dude. And she probably does too. So ask her out!"
"I'm sorry, do you know me?" Chandler scoffed, "No way I can do that."
Ross sighed as he turned to his best friend, "do you think I'd push you to ask her out if I thought it would end badly?"
"Well I don't know. You got divorced three times, I don't know if you have a good understanding of women." Chandler joked, his smile dropping as Ross glared.
"Enjoy living with Joey forever," Ross said, standing up as he headed to the kitchen.
~~~
Chandler gave it more thought and tried to convince himself he'd live if she said no. His mind thought back to all the horrible interactions he had with girls and tried to fight them off.
He knocked on her apartment, a flower behind his back.
She opened the door, smiling immediately as he came into view. "Hi, Chandler."
Chandler smiled at how beautiful she looked, handing her the flower. "This is for you," his hands clamped together as she took the flower. "And I came here with more than just that!"
Y/N was used to a shaky and jittery Chandler so she tried not to seem too worried. "Yeah? Something in your pockets?" She joked back. His laugh rumbled through his chest and a warm feeling covered her body.
"I wanted to see if you'd like to go out sometime? On a date," he asked nervously. His eyes twitched as he already started to panic. Before he could spiral, she spoke.
"I'm free right now," she offered
Chandler gulped. "You know I only prepared myself to get this far," yanking at the collar on his neck. "Can I come back in an hour after I rehearse in the mirror?"
Y/N laughed, fully believing it was a joke but Chandler stood there sweating. "Oh yeah! That's fine," she said, letting the man breathe in his sweater vest.
"I'll see you in an hour," he said with a smile, pretending to take off a hat as he bowed. She laughed, watching him walk off before she closed the door.
I’m super curious to see what Friends would be like. (I don’t know why I never thought to look up fanfic of it? But I love your stuff, so I know yours will be good.) I don’t know what even to request though haha. Reader inserts? Or established pairings? Chandler is my favorite. Maybe a reader insert with him? Reader can be a friend of Phoebe’s and maybe it’s a mistaken identity thing? Reader wants to ask out Phoebes funny cute friend. Phoebe thinks it’s Joey but it’s Chandler?
This was in my drafts so I figured I should post it! I hope you find this since you requested it ages ago :(
Wrong person
"Joey! I have news for you!" Phoebe sang as she entered the coffee house. She rushed over to him, shoving Chandler over on the couch so she could sit. Chandler dramatically moved down, making Monica and Ross laugh.
"Tell me! Tell me!" He said excitedly, his hands wagging in the air.
"My friend, Y/N loved meeting you at Monica's party and asked me to give you her number!" Phoebe cheered, handing over the piece of paper with the number.
"Wait Y/N?" Chandler perked up, causing everyone to look at him.
"Yeah, why?" Phoebe asked.
"Nothing! It's just that-that uh- I thought she and I were sorta connecting." Chandler shrugged, trying to not feel disappointed that she was interested in Joey instead. Of course, she was, the girls always picked Joey.
"Oh Chandler, I won't if you like her," Joey said, giving Chandler a comforting smile.
"No, it's fine. She clearly likes you so you should go for it," Chandler smiled, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach. Monica noticed his sad state and planted a comforting hand on his knee.
"Which one is she again?" Joey asked, the name not ringing any sort of bell.
Before Phoebe could answer, Chandler was daydreaming out loud. "She's the smart and funny one. She made that joke about Baywatch, who knew women even watched that show. She was drinking beer, but only cold. She works with Phoebe at the massage place."
"Thanks, man!" Joey said, not understanding why Chandler remembered every detail. "Didn't want to look stupid when I call her."
Chandler painfully laughed, watching as he walked out of the house with her number. Chandler pretended to grab a knife from the table and jab himself in the chest.
"I'm sorry, Chandler," Phoebe said.
"It's okay, I can't beat Joey."
~
Chandler walked into the apartment and found Joey sitting in the recliner.
"Hey man, how did it go?" Chandler asked, even though the question killed him to ask. He took the open recliner next to him.
Joey turned to him with an excited smile, like he was gifting Chandler a present.
"She doesn't want me!" Chandler looked at Joey confused.
"Then why are you so excited?" Chandler laughed, a part of him happy that she wasn't into Joey. He wasn't sure if he could handle seeing her in Joey's clothes and having to share a wall.
"Phoebe messed up, she wanted you to get her number!" Joey cheered, "She likes you, man!" Joey planted a congratulating slap on his shoulder.
Chandler couldn't help but smile, "really? She wants to go out with me?"
Joey nodded and handed over the piece of paper, Chandler quickly ran over to the phone.
~
The date was planned and Chandler was nervously pacing in Monica's apartment. He knew he was bad with girls and his fear of commitment held him back.
"Chandler it's the first date, you don't have to marry the girl," Monica explained.
"Just be yourself! She already likes you so the hard part is already done," Joey said, thinking he was giving words of encouragement.
"Chandler, you'll do great," Phoebe encouraged, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Be your charming self and you'll be okay."
Chandler nodded as he tried to soak in their words. He hated how nervous he got when it came to women. Why couldn't it be easy like it was for Joey?
Chandler checked his watch and nodded to himself. "Time to go, wish me luck!"
Chants of good luck filled the room as he walked out of the apartment, walking to the coffee shop.
~
He saw her through the window, sitting beautifully on the big couch. He walked in, catching her attention. She smiled and stood up, he could feel his heart racing from the smile alone.
"I heard you've been asking about me?" He flirted, even though it sounded like a joke. He smiled when she let out a breathy laugh.
"Guilty," she said, together they took a seat. Both were a bit shy as they sat in a quick moment of silence. "Thanks for calling me. I thought Phoebe already knew who I was talking about."
"Eh I don't blame her. Joey usually is the one who gets the calls," Chandler's voice faded out as he thought about it. "But I'm honored to have been the chosen one."
She laughed at his joke, causing him to smile. She shifted so her body was facing him, and just like at the party they jumped right into a conversation.
~
Chandler flew through Monica's apartment with a huge smile. Everyone turned to the open door and questions began to fly.
Before he answered any, he placed his hand on his chest and dramatically declared,
It’s not like I’ve done a lot of searching but this is the first chandler fic I find that’s comically accurate with the show. Must say perfect insert, my brain edited the laughs in as I read along. Love u
This week, I read a fic that was around 20 years old, which had originally been posted on the author's personal website and which she added to AO3 a few years ago. She listed her email address with the fic, so after I finished reading, I sent her an email saying how much I enjoyed the story, how much I appreciated the work and effort she obviously put into it, and thanked her for uploading it to AO3. She responded the next day and thanked me for my message, then said she had a few more stories in the same series that she hadn't gotten around to uploading. I checked this morning--she added a 35,000 word novella and thanked me in the summary.
