playlist:
back to being friends by sombr
guilty as sin? by taylor swift (rachel bochner ver.)
the hardest part by olivia dean
the living room couch cradled me as i sat on his lap, straddling him. his eyes followed the path of his hands as they trailed along my plush sides, then paused to give my thighs a gentle squeeze. he looked up at me, eyes glossed and enthralled.
“still so fuckin’ pretty,” he murmured.
i closed my eyes as he leaned in, closing the space between us. i braced for the feel of his lips—but instead, there was only a breath of air between us, his exhale brushing softly against mine. i opened my eyes to find him gazing at me like i’d hung the stars in the sky.
his hand rose to my neck, fingers gentle as they traced along my jaw. his other hand found mine, guiding it to his chest.
"feel this heartbeat? that’s what you do to me—every beat, every thud, it’s all you," he said slowly, his eyes locking onto mine.
“don’t do this. w-we can’t,” i pleaded, eyes glossing over as i shut them. i leaned my forehead against his with a shaky sigh.
"then we stop." his voice was barely above a whisper, but it wrapped around me like a promise. his hands loosened their grip, falling still on my sides, though his forehead stayed pressed to mine. the silence between us pulsed, thick with everything unsaid.
“i just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said, softer this time, like the words themselves might shatter us. "but i don’t know if i can keep pretending that i don’t want you… that i haven’t always wanted you."
my fingers clenched lightly at his shirt, still resting against his chest. i could feel the thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palm—steady, strong, wanting.
“you think i’m scared of getting hurt?” i whispered, a shaky laugh escaping me. “i’ve been hurt by you before… but that doesn’t stop me from wanting you, does it? you’ve always been my weakness.”
the words hung in the air, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. the faint patter of rain against the window added to the stillness, its rhythmic tap an almost haunting reminder of how long we’d waited. i pulled away, searching his eyes for something—maybe the same fear, the same longing. then he said, "then let me show you how sorry i am,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with a need that mirrored my own.
without another word, i crashed my lips against his, hungry and breathless. his hand tangled in my hair, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss. his other hand gripped my waist, guiding my hips against his with a desperate kind of need. shaky moans and low grunts slipped from his lips, each sound a reminder of how much we’d both been holding back.
the rain outside continued its steady pitter patter, but inside, the world had fallen away, leaving only us—caught in the heat of a moment that would have no easy end.
a/n: prompts from @urfriendlywriter !! hoping this lil piece would break my stump. ciao!
chandler bing x reader | suggestive content | slow burn
Summary: You offer Chandler some incentive to quit smoking-- and then you follow through
a/n: based on season 1 episode 3, the one with the thumb!
masterlist
------
March 20th, 1994
You were curled up in the armchair beside the orange couch, sipping lukewarm coffee and flipping through a zine you’d grabbed at that record store near campus. Monica, Phoebe, Ross, and Joey were spread out across the couch, half-listening to Rachel ramble behind the counter about something a customer had done earlier that day.
It was peaceful. Calm.
Until you caught a faint whiff of smoke.
Your eyes narrowed. You looked up-- just in time to see Chandler casually lighting a cigarette.
Monica shot up from the couch like she’d been electrocuted. “Oh my God, Chandler!”
“Seriously?” Joey said, recoiling like someone had just waved a fart in his face.
“Put that out,” Ross barked, waving a hand in front of his nose. “You’re not even supposed to smoke in here!”
“Ugh!” Phoebe fanned the air dramatically. “Chandler, come on. You’re gonna get cancer, and then we’ll all feel like jerks for yelling at your urn.”
Chandler rolled his eyes and took a drag. “Wow. Judgment and a guilt trip. You guys should start a band.”
“Oh my god,” Monica groaned again, waving toward the window. “Go outside!”
“Hey, this is so unfair!” Chandler protested, gesturing with the cigarette like it was on his side.
“Oh yeah?” you said, finally lowering your zine with a look. “What’s unfair--lung privileges?”
“No! I have one flaw, and suddenly I’m public enemy number one? Meanwhile, Joey cracks his knuckles every five seconds like he’s trying to summon Captain Planet--”
“Hey!” Joey protested again.
“--and Ross,” Chandler went on, “acts like he’s narrating a PBS documentary every time he talks.”
Ross sat up straighter. “I articulate. It’s called having a command of the English language.”
“And Monica,” Chandler added with a flourish, “has that weird little snort when she laughs. Like a piglet getting tickled.”
“I do not snort,” Monica said indignantly.
"You totally do,” you muttered into your mug.
“Oh, and you,” Chandler turned to you, finger pointed. “With your whole ‘I’m better than everyone because I know the exact day every Bowie album dropped’ superiority thing. And that weird food ritual where you never finish your plate. You eat 85% of a sandwich and then abandon it like it said something offensive.”
You narrowed your eyes. “I don’t have to explain my sandwich habits to a man who smokes indoors."
“God forbid someone smoke a single cigarette around Miss Precision Sandwich Eater of 1994.”
“Say that again when you’re hacking up a lung in your thirties,” you shot back. “We’ll see who wins then.”
there's a pause.
“…So, does the knuckle cracking actually bother everybody?” Joey asked, eyebrows raised.
Ross looked slightly guilty. “Well… I could live without it.”
“Okay but is it, like, ‘quirky habit’ annoying,” Joey pressed, “or like… Phoebe chewing her hair annoying?”
Phoebe blinked, mid-chew, and immediately pulled her hair out of her mouth.
“Don’t listen to him, Pheebs,” Ross said gently. “I think it’s endearing.”
Joey turned to him, mockingly sincere. “Ohhh, you do, do you?”
Monica snorted--actually snorted--and immediately covered her mouth, eyes wide.
Chandler just grinned. “There it is.”
“There’s nothing wrong with enunciating,” Ross said stiffly, crossing his arms.
“Indeed there isn't.” Rachel imitated Ross from behind the couch, then glanced at the espresso machine. “I should really get back to work.”
“Yeah,” Phoebe muttered, “before someone accidentally gets what they actually ordered.”
“Oh-ho-HO. The hair comes out and the gloves go on,” Rachel snapped.
The entire room descended into chaotic, overlapping bickering.
You got pulled into it-- snarking and sparring like it was second nature. You accused Monica of weaponizing passive aggression. Joey said you were just bitter because you were always cold. Ross tried to quote Latin. Phoebe said she liked your 80% sandwich thing. Rachel asked what a Bowie was, earning herself a death glare from you.
And somewhere in all that noise, Chandler was gone.
You scanned the room, eyebrows pinching. The door was still swinging slightly on its hinge.
That bastard.
You sighed, stood up, and slung your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you made for the door.
“Where are you going?” Rachel asked, coffee mug in hand.
You didn’t look back. “To go kill the Marlboro Man.”
And just like that, you disappeared after him, zine abandoned, door shut behind you.
You caught him halfway down the sidewalk, leaned casually against the window, cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth like he was trying out for a 1940s heist film.
“Smooth escape,” you said, approaching him.
He glanced at you sideways, amused. “Thank you. That was my own version of smoke and mirrors.”
“Clever.” You folded your arms. “So what’s it gonna take to get you to quit?”
He puffed once. “Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already had five guilt trips, three lectures, and a surprise intervention this week. None of it worked.”
You shrugged. “Alright. What if I sweeten the deal?”
Chandler raised a brow. “I’m listening.”
“If you go a full week without smoking…” You tapped your chin. “I’ll buy you that vintage Batman comic you’ve been hunting for. The one with the misprint cover.”
His eyes lit up slightly-- then narrowed. “Tempting. But not tempting enough.”
You nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll throw in those black licorice things you like that taste like regret and despair.”
Chandler took another drag. “Closer.”
You stepped in, lowering your voice just enough that only he could hear it. “If you can go one week without a cigarette, Chandler… I’ll show you my boobs.”
He froze.
The cigarette fell from his fingers and hit the sidewalk with a tiny hiss.
“…A week, you said?”
You smirked. "I'll even provide the nicotine patches."
He looked genuinely conflicted for a second-- then sighed dramatically and stomped out the cigarette.
“Fine. For the sake of my lungs… and your very generous offer-- I accept.”
You beamed. “See? Bribery works better than judgment.”
Chandler shook his head with a crooked smile. “God, you’re dangerous.”
You leaned in, already walking backward toward the coffeehouse. “Only when properly motivated.”
He watched you go, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets, trying not to look too smug-- or too flustered.
March 24th, 1994
Chandler looked like a man on the edge.
He sat on the couch with a cup of coffee (his fifth), hunched over and twitchy, leg bouncing like a nervous rabbit. You were sitting on the floor in front of him, sipping iced tea and pretending not to notice how he’d muttered “kill me” under his breath at least twice in the past ten minutes.
Joey leaned back in the chair beside the couch, squinting at Chandler with cautious admiration. “Dude… not to jinx it, but… this is, what, day four?”
“Day four and seventeen hours,” Chandler said, rubbing his face. “Not that I’m counting. But also I definitely am.”
Monica walked over with two fresh mugs. “I’m honestly impressed. I didn’t think you’d last this long.”
Phoebe nodded. “Yeah! You’re usually all talk and zero follow-through. It’s very inspiring.”
“I hate all of you,” Chandler muttered. “And I hate this coffee. And I hate the air. And my lungs feel too clean.”
You patted his thigh like he was a feral cat. “You’re doing great, champ.”
Rachel came over from the kitchen with a knowing smirk. “Okay, but seriously--what’s the real reason you’re actually doing this? You didn’t even quit when Monica threatened to replace your cereal with celery.”
Chandler hesitated.
You looked down and busied yourself with a cracker from the coffee table.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “Wait… wait a minute. You’ve never made it four days unless something’s in it for you.”
Joey gasped. “Oh my god. Are you getting paid?”
Monica stared. “Did you bet on your own lung health?”
Chandler opened his mouth. Then closed it.
And then Ross-- who had just emerged from the bathroom with a face like he’d walked into something he shouldn’t-- sat down on the arm of the couch.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Oh!” Phoebe beamed. “We’re figuring out why Chandler quit smoking.”
Ross raised a brow. “Wait. Still? You’re on day four, right?”
“Four days and seventeen hours,” Chandler corrected.
Ross tilted his head. “Why? Did someone die?”
Phoebe leaned toward you suspiciously. “You did something, didn’t you?”
You raised your brows, feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Joey pointed back and forth between the two of you. “Wait a minute. This is just like that one time--remember when he stuck to that diet for a whole month because that girl from work promised him a peek at her--”
“Boobs,” Chandler blurted. Then winced.
The room went silent.
“What?!” Ross was scandalized.
You took a slow, measured sip of your drink.
“…So,” Monica said slowly. “Let me get this straight.”
“Please don’t get it straight,” Chandler muttered.
“You promised to quit smoking,” Phoebe said.
“And she said if you made it a week…” Joey’s voice trailed off as he nodded in admiration. “That’s… actually genius.”
Rachel’s eyes widened. “Wait, is this, like, a scheduled thing? Are we counting down to Boob Day?”
“Oh my God,” you groaned. “Can we please stop talking about my tits?”
Ross looked like someone had just set his coffee on fire. “Yes, thank you! I didn’t even know this was on the table!”
Phoebe, unbothered, turned to you. “But wait, so--was it, like, part of a larger strategy? Did you offer anything else first?”
You nodded, dry. “I tried candy and comics. Nothing worked.”
Rachel leaned over the arm of the couch, grinning. “So if he makes it to seven days…”
“He gets the view,” Joey filled in.
“You don’t have to narrate it,” you deadpanned.
Phoebe tilted her head thoughtfully. “But technically, she’s still in charge of the reward. That’s so powerful.”
“I mean,” Monica said, licking her spoon, “you could just change your mind. Or make it conditional. Like, no boobs unless he also gets a haircut.”
You made a face. “Okay, first of all, I would never make him get a haircut.”
Everyone turned toward you at once.
You immediately added, “Not because I like it or anything. I just--he’d look weird with, like, short hair. His whole thing would fall apart.”
Chandler grinned. “My whole thing?”
You shrugged, sipping your tea, ears turning pink. “Yeah. Like, your sarcasm wouldn’t hit the same if your hair was too neat. You’d lose your edge.”
Phoebe tilted her head. “So you do like his hair.”
“No,” you said quickly. “I respect it. Like a… cultural artifact.”
Joey pointed at Chandler. “Your hair is a museum piece.”
Rachel cackled.
Chandler looked mildly stunned but definitely pleased, while you resolutely avoided his eye.
Ross, still trying to catch up, gestured vaguely in the air. “But--so what if he doesn’t make it? Do you just… revoke the boobs? Or is there some kind of punishment clause?”
You gave him a flat look. “Ross. There were never any boobs. That’s the whole incentive.”
Monica laughed so hard she nearly spilled her yogurt.
Chandler slumped into the couch cushions like a man accepting his fate. “This was supposed to be a quiet, dignified week of personal growth.”
You mockingly patted his thigh. “Aw. Poor baby. You’re just trying to better yourself and everyone’s obsessed with your hypothetical sex prize.”
Chandler looked at you with pained affection. “You’re evil.”
“I’m effective,” you corrected.
Monica clapped her hands once. “Okay, now I need to see if he actually makes it to day seven.”
Phoebe nodded solemnly. “For the sake of nipples everywhere.”
March 27th, 1994
Chandler was sprawled on the couch like he’d just survived a hostage situation.
He looked pale. Grumpy. Deeply betrayed by the world. He was also seven days cigarette-free.
You were curled next to him, one leg tucked under you, gently running your fingers through his hair--part comfort, part victory lap. His eyes were closed, head tilted toward your touch like a cat soaking up sun.
“You know,” you said, voice light, “you’re shockingly tolerable when you’re detoxing. I expected more weeping.”
“I did weep,” he mumbled. “In the frozen food aisle. Over a bag of peas. Maybe some eggos”
You snorted.
Monica entered from the kitchen with two mugs of coffee. “It’s almost time!”
Phoebe and Joey followed, each holding a cookie in one hand and buzzing with anticipation. Rachel leaned against the counter, arms crossed and smirking.
“I still can’t believe you made it seven days,” Rachel said.
“Neither can I,” Chandler groaned. “Everything smells better. Food tastes better. I feel emotions now. It’s terrible.”
Monica set the mugs down. “Timer’s got thirty seconds left.”
Ross glanced at his watch, nodding. “Ah, the final countdown. This is better than any sports game.”
“I swear,” Chandler said, eyes still closed, “if someone lights a match and I inhale by accident, I will throw myself out the window.”
You smiled down at him. “Oh, come on. You’ve been a delight. Moody. Cranky. Deeply dramatic. But a delight.”
Phoebe held up a cookie like a microphone. “So, are you ready for your prize?”
Joey leaned in with a grin. “Do you have a speech prepared?”
Chandler sighed. “I didn’t think I’d make it this far. I’d like to thank spite, coffee, and her boobs for getting me through it.”
Ross chuckled softly. “Her… boobs? Not exactly the typical quitting incentive, but hey, whatever works.”
The timer dinged.
A beat of silence. Then the group exploded into applause.
“Seven days!” Rachel whooped. “No cheating, no sneaking?”
Monica narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t just, like, sneak one in the hallway, right?”
Chandler raised a hand like he was swearing into court. “I swear on Joey’s cholesterol levels.”
Joey nodded solemnly. “That’s sacred.”
You gave Chandler’s hair a final ruffle, then stood up with a satisfied stretch. “Well then. A deal’s a deal.”
Chandler bolted upright. “Wait. Now?”
Rachel’s jaw dropped. “Oh my god, are we actually doing this?”
“I mean,” Phoebe said brightly, “we were here for the buildup.”
Monica raised a hand. “Nope. No way. You two take that weird sexual tension to your room like civilized roommates.”
You turned to Chandler with a grin and wiggled your eyebrows. “Shall we?”
He scrambled up from the couch like he was being offered backstage passes and a winning lottery ticket.
Rachel covered her eyes. “This is too weird. I live here now. I need walls.”
Joey called after you, “Make it count, man!”
Phoebe added, “Don’t blink!”
Monica just groaned. “Please don’t scar me emotionally.”
You pulled Chandler toward your bedroom by the wrist, looking completely smug. “Come on, Bing. Let’s get this over with.”
“Romantic,” he muttered.
“Oh, you’re gonna cry. Guaranteed.”
“I already did. Over the peas, remember?”
You disappeared into your room with him stumbling after you, clearly overwhelmed but absolutely not protesting.
You shut the door behind the two of you and turned slowly to find Chandler standing in the middle of your room like he’d just wandered into a holy site. Hands in his pockets. Jaw slack. Trying very hard not to stare at your chest but clearly already halfway to heaven.
“You okay?” you asked, eyebrow raised.
“I’m great,” he said quickly. “I’m fine. I’ve never been better. I’m just--uh--trying to process that I’m in your room for boob-related reasons and it’s not a hallucination brought on by nicotine withdrawal.”
You took a slow step toward him. “Still want the reward?”
He nodded so fast it looked like whiplash. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything. And I’ve wanted things. Pizza. Sleep. Parental approval. But mostly pizza."
You circled him, slow and deliberate, fingers trailing up his sleeve. “You sure you’re ready?”
“Born ready,” he said, then added quickly, “unless this is a trick. Is this a trick? Are you gonna hit me with a water balloon or something?”
You laughed softly and stopped in front of him. “No trick.”
Then, with complete calm, you reached behind your back.
His eyes widened.
You unhooked your bra under your shirt, sliding the straps slowly from your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor with a light, traitorous thump.
Chandler made a sound that could only be described as a prayer.
“Oh my god,” he whispered. “Is it hot in here? It’s hot in here, right? You’re trying to kill me. This is a slow, beautiful murder.”
You shrugged one shoulder, innocent. “I thought I’d give you a preview. You’ve earned a little anticipation.”
“I will write songs about this moment,” he said, eyes locked on you like you were a mirage.
Then, finally, you gripped the hem of your shirt.
Lifted it. Slowly.
His breath caught audibly in his throat.
You held it just long enough to drive him insane, then raised it fully--bare, lit softly by the lamplight behind you.
Chandler didn’t speak.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t move.
Then--finally--he exhaled, a stunned, reverent whisper:
“…Thank you.”
You laughed--not at him, but softly, surprised, like his sincerity had caught you off guard.
“Wow,” you said, tugging your shirt down as you reached for your bra. “That was unexpectedly polite.”
He didn’t move. Just stood there, dazed. Giddy. Slightly ruined.
You passed him, casually patting his chest like a congratulatory coach. “You did good, Bing.”
“I’m in love,” he said automatically, then winced. “With the moment! The moment. Not you. That’d be weird. Haha.”
You paused in the doorway and glanced back at him, smug.
“Oh, don’t worry,” you said sweetly. “You’ve got about three more weeks of clean lungs before I flash you again.”
He pointed at you helplessly. “You’re evil.”
"Proud of you, Bing. Still a menace, but now a smoke-free menace." You said, walking out, leaving him completely shell-shocked in the middle of your room, muttering under his breath:
“…Best. Bet. Ever.”
----
Anything Goes by: Frank Sinatra OR Anything Goes by: Guns N' Roses if you're feeling more rock and roll
It’s been exactly 187 since you and Chandler started working on your project together. No one in the friend group even knows that you work together, the other day when the subject came up about jobs and who had which, Monica started going on and on about a chef who "was gonna be the end of her". Joey talked about a movie he might star in, Ross talked about the new exhibition they were starting to build.
But when it got to you and Chandler, they just strolled right past, muttering about accounting and numbers. But the fact is, the past couple of months you and Chandler have been working on a deal that would make the entire company bigger.
The project is even exciting, but lately it's not the project that excites you the most about your workday, it's the fact that every day when you meet in, you get to talk and spend the entire day with Chandler.
In the beginning you weren't thinking too much of it, he's your friend and obviously you would talk when you spend everyday together with each other.
But now you're talking about personal things, and childhoods, what it was like to grow up in your respective families. Sometimes it's hard to understand how someone so amazing comes from his family, not that there's anything especially wrong with his family, but its clear his parents had more focus on them and their problems than the fact that they were raising a child together.
I am so horribly attracted to Chandler that I keep finding my eyes watching his every movement with a giddy grin similar to one of a puppy lovesick highschooler. I'm watching friends with a stupid shit-eating grin and feet kicking in the air like this fictional character personally asked me to be his wife.
There is awareness in me that this is not normal behaviour, but alas I don't give a damn. He is my boyfriend in my dreams and will remain to be my crush while I continue on watching friends.
[I relate to him so bad it's not even funny sometimes. horrible.]
So I’ve seen a bunch of friends fics being written and I thought I’d give it a go so voila enjoy x
Summary - awaking in the middle of the night draws a fear to you, only for your best friend to find out your well kept secret
Pairing - Chandler Bing x Monica’s roommate!Reader
Warnings - dangerous use of frying pans, secret relationships
A racket reverberated from the kitchen, echoing through the hall and there was no doubt someone outside. You couldn’t help but walk out of your room which was next to Monica’s and plod through the living space through the dead of night, all to witness your roommate holding a frying pan suspiciously and Chandler cradling the crown of his head.
“What is going on here?” You groggily asked, screwing your eyebrows up at the situation, not knowing all too well how to intake the scene given the fact that you were still half asleep and wishing to god that all things remained sealed by any lips present. “Don’t tell me you hit Chandler with the pan Mon!”
“No I’m just holding my head for an entirely different reason and Monica hit somebody else on the head with it.” Monica had her arms crossed as she looked between the pair of you, her senses picking up on evidence of panic that was slowly growing from you as you awoke to an understanding state.
“Anything you wanna tell me y/n?” She asked, tucking her weapon of choice behind her elbow as she quirked a brow at you and crossed her arms. You could only imagine how her cooks responded to her but you weren’t ready to give in so easily, she’d have to cook you a little longer.
“I mean if it were Joey at least he wouldn’t be able to lose any more brain cells.” You offered with a sly smile, earning a eye roll from the younger Geller sibling. Chandler huffed, asking if anybody was going to fetch him something to ice his injury with before he walked to the freezer himself.
“About why Chandler was sneaking in at this time y/n? Got any ideas on that?” You bit your bottom lip for a second as you thought before the perfect excuse rang through your brain that hadn’t been rattled by a metal utensil or at least yet. You’d have to remember to leave your key at home if you went over to Chandler and Joeys otherwise you’d be caught red handed all again.
“Um I reckon he snuck in to steal food like he always does.” You shrugged causing Monica to silently turn to your male friend in question to see if that was really the reason.
“I’ve stolen food now to ice the lump that is gonna expand from my scalp.” He gestured to the bag of peas that he was holding to his head. “But yes I came here to get food because I love food, food is beautiful and I never want to spend a second away from food. I can’t sleep without food beside me because I worry about food and if I were in the same apartment as food I’d do the same thing to protect food if someone was trying to break in as Monica just did!” He exasperated breathing heavy from the metaphorical rant that he had just spoken.
“Food loves you too Chan.” You spoke, understanding all that he was putting across and as you had said that a weight was lifted from his very chest. “And food is sorry that Monica hit you with the frying pan.”
“Something tells me we’re not talking about food. I’m a chef and even I’m not this attached to it, I get it. You love him you love her, and you didn’t want anyone to know about this little affair behind closed doors, not even me…”
“Mon come on, it’s not like I didn’t want you to know, your my best friend of course I wanted you to. But-“
“Enjoy your food, I’ll see you guys in the morning.” She put the frying pan on the side and walked to her room leaving you and Chandler alone after the two of you had confessed your love for each other.
“Maybe next time I’ll get a takeaway at my place.” He suggested causing you to laugh as he walked closed and as he did so you grabbed the bag of peas and held them in place for him. “You know she’ll forgive you she’s just mad you didn’t tell her, all with pass and you’ll be as tight as magnets again.”
“Or as close as that frying pan was on your head.”
when you and chandler walked into the apartment you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. while he is kissing you he is also leading you to his room while on the bed he throws off his shirt and goes back to kissing you he's playing with the hem of your shirt and you take the hint and take the shirt off breaking the kiss chandler stands back and stares at you.
"God you are so beautiful" he licks his lips lightly.
"please" you begin in a low voice "touch me" he smirks a little bit while his hands go to your waist slowly caressing it. he starts kissing your neck looking for your sweet spot when he found it you let out a little moan he smirks into the skin and starts nibbling, licking, and kissing it. when he is done he starts moving down from your neck to your chest when he reaches your bra he takes it off and starts sucking on your nipples while fondling it.
"chandler please more please" you begged between moans he continues kissing down your stomach reaching the hem of your pants he looks up at you asking for permission and you nod a little he unzips your fly and starts pulling down your pants you lifting your hips to help him. he rubs your thighs up and down for a minute kissing higher and higher when he reaches your pantie line you are begging him to do something panting and moaning he takes your panties off slowly.
"this okay darling" you nod and he continues. he starts rubbing your clit and slowly lowers down and kitten licks you.
"please harder faster" he starts going a little faster and focuses on your clit. he starts slowly sliding a finger into you and the another and another till there is four, you are a moaning mess above him warning him your about to cum, then he pulls away.
"what'd ya do that for i was about to cum" you say panting from the stimulation wishing he would have let you cum.
"I want the first time you cum to be on me" he says kissing your cheek. You move his grand to kiss you on the lips. You start making out again and you start rubbing his hard on him groaning into your mouth. He gets tired of the teasing and grabs the condom and rips it open with his teeth making you even more wet.
"You sure you want this" he asks one more time making sure you want to go all the way with him. You nod not trusting your words and he starts sliding in slowly. You feel pressure and a little pain. He stops moving and looks like he's about to pull out.
"No keep going I'm ok" you smile reassuringly. He smiles back and keeps going once he's all the way in he stays still for you to get used to the feeling once you are ready for him to move you nod your head and roll your hips and he groans. He starts slowly thrusting into you hitting all the right spots making you moan and groan. it wasn't long until you came on his dick with a loud moan and a just as loud groan from him while he kept thrusting through both your highs. once you came down from your high he fell beside you on the bed and pulled you close to him.
"that was great let me clean you up" he said as he kissed your forehead and went to the washroom to get a wet cloth and wipe you down. you look at him with a blissed out smile and knew you made the right choice by going out with him. you didn't see this ending in a very long time.
A/N: This was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but I am a lazy writer lol. So pretend like this is a little something from me to all of you for V-Day. Also, this is my first FRIENDS fiction and really did not see many Chandler fics so here it is. Honest feedback is welcomed :)
Summary: You just moved to Paris for work and one day bumps into your high school best friend Chandler. Seeing him desperately in search of a place to stay, you invite him to stay with you. You were already in a relationship but would the entry of your best friend change anything for you?
Warnings: Swear words, mentions of sex, make-out, mention of alcohol, insecurity.
Word Limit: 2.5k
You were a woman in her late twenties who recently moved to the most beautiful city in the world, Paris. What could be more exciting to work for Gucci in the fashion capital itself? It had been a couple of months since you moved here, and Paris was nothing like your hometown Normandy. Sure both places were part of the territory of France but Paris was the city. Everything was fancy, different, and difficult.
Slowly and steadily, you were getting the hang of the big overwhelmingly serene city and one day you decided to explore a new restaurant that gave a perfect view of the river Seine while having your meal peacefully, You ordered yourself a bottle of white wine and chef’s special.
A familiar face approached your table with your wine, “Chandler?”
“Y/N?” he questioned.
The man was Chandler. Chandler Bing. He was one of your best friends from high school and you guys have not been in touch for the past six or some years.
“What are you doing here?” you asked.
“Umm, working.”
“I mean here in Paris?”
“I could ask you the same question Y/N,” you were confused at this attitude of his. But it was also true that Chandler could never answer any questions straight, this was him being classic Chandler.
“I work here, at Gucci. Isn’t that amazing? You tell me! I thought you were aspiring for uh… not a waiter I guess?”
He looked down at the floor in embarrassment and said, “I came here in Paris to get a new shot at life, I still am figuring out life.”
You asked him to join you at the table and you both started talking about the good old days when the only thing you had to worry about was school and stuff but now there are endless bills, a job, rent, appraisal, etc. You exclaimed, “I am surprised you still remember me.”
“Of course, I do, we were best friends. How can’t I?”
You sipped your wine and said “Well, because you were popular and certainly did not care about introverts like me. I mean we hung out a couple of times but still, you only talked to me when you had to copy notes or when you broke up with your girlfriends or boyfriends.”
Chandler chuckled awkwardly “and look where am I being popular and look at you! Having a real job in Paris and a decent place to live. Being popular couldn’t even get me a comfortable place to live.”
Even though you guys didn’t talk in a long time, he was your friend and you impulsively asked him to live with you as your roommate. It would be nice to have someone live with you in an unknown city who can also cook for you and crack you up with his witty jokes.
You put the offer in front of Chandler, and he was surprised as if you asked him for his kidney.
“Really? Would you be able to handle me as your roommate?”
“Handle you? What do you mean? What could you possibly do?” you questioned raising an eyebrow at him.
“Would you be able to keep your hands off your insanely hot roommate? Isn’t that against the rule or something?”
You scoffed, “Hot? You? Don’t think so highly of yourself Mr. Chandler Bing.”
You both chuckled and enjoyed a nostalgic meal by the river. Since then, Chandler was living with you, and it was blissful to have him back in your life.
One evening you came back home tired and all you wanted to do was relax on the couch, watch your favorite show, and eat something sugary. You opened the door and saw Chandler making out with an unfamiliar girl on the couch. As soon as you saw them you yelled “What the fuck Chandler?” and poor Chandler scared of you threw the girl off himself and she fell on the floor. Chandler quickly puts his shirt on while walking the girl out of the apartment.
“I am so sorry Y/N, by the way, this is Janice.”
The girl laughs in the most annoying way you have ever imagined and stretched her arm to introduce herself. You shake her hand and say “Bonsoir stranger, get out of my house. Au revoir.”
“Why is she so cold?” asked Janice while walking out of the door.
“I’ll explain it to you later baby, bye see you!” said Chandler.
“I told you not to bring girls over when I want the place to myself. And on the couch? Seriously? You have a room,” you complain.
“I could bring guys over if you want. I bet you’ll like that.” He winked at you smiling to himself. You groan at his response and go to your room slamming the door shut.
After a while, there’s a knock at your bedroom door, you open it and to your surprise see Chandler with hot sizzling brownies out right from the oven. You settled yourself in your bed with the brownies breaking the ‘no food in bed’ rule.
Chandler stands in front of you apologetically and says, “I am sorry, it won’t happen again.”
“No, it’s okay, I overreacted. I am PMS’ing and at work, I got yelled at by my boss. She doesn’t seem to like any of my ideas, and she even scolded me in front of my other colleagues.”
“I am sorry to hear that, but you are Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N. You show her that you are better than any of the other employees because I know you are, and I hope the brownies help with your PMS.”
He gently kissed the temple of your head and started walking out of your room. You ask him with a mouth full of brownies “Aren’t you gonna have these?”
“Nah I had a couple while baking. Do you need anything else? I am leaving for Janice’s place.” He asked before shutting your door.
You gave him a look and said “No, have fun!”
“Sure will!” he replied through the other side of the door.
On a lazy Sunday evening, you hopped on the couch where Chandler was watching television and put your head on his lap staring at the ceiling you shot a question at him casually, “Any plans for V-Day?”
“Nothing, why?” he replied.
You sat up straight to face and said, “Nah, I just wanted to know if you are doing anything because I am.”
“Going on a date? With me?” he smirked.
“Oh, you wish Chandler Bing.” You rolled your eyes and continued “of course, I am going on a date, with my boyfriend,” emphasizing the last phrase of the sentence.
“You have another man in your life that I didn’t know of?” he exclaimed.
“Okay drama queen, easy there. His name is Antoine, and you didn’t know because I was just looking for a fling but things serious and he asked me out on a real date. Additionally, I wanted to let you know that you can have the place all to yourself in case you want to invite any special somebody as I will be staying the night at his place.”
Chandler gave you a look from the side of his eyes and you just simply smiled.
Valentine’s Day finally arrived, not that you were a big fan of this day but you were in the city of love and you wanted to consume every square inch of love this city could give you. This was your first Valentine's Day in a city like Paris and you were genuinely excited. You wore a red bodycon satin dress revealing your sexy cleavage. You were feeling confident about your look and were deciding upon what shoes to wear until you heard a knock on the door.
“Who’s there, Chan?” you shouted from your bedroom.
Chandler opened the door and replied “A man with flowers” with a look of confusion on his face.
You came out of your bedroom looking chic and approached the man, both of them were startled to see you.
“Wow” exclaimed Chandler in awe under his breath.
Antoine became very conscious of Chandler’s reaction and looked at Chandler with apprehension. The air in the room was awkward but you turned it around by distracting your date giving him a peck on his lips and greeting him “Happy Valentine’s Day baby”
He kissed the back of your hand like a gentleman and gave you flowers. While you were putting the flowers in water the men introduced themselves to each other.
Chandler stretched out his arm saying “Hi, I am Chandler. I make jokes when I am uncomfortable.”
Antoine shook his hand and said “Bonjour! Chandler, what an unusual name.”
Chandler smiled at his response and added “Antoine what a usual name to find in Paris.”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his sassy answer. That was your best friend Chandler who will not be embarrassed by anyone even if it meant putting your relationship at stake.
The introduction of your boyfriend to your roommate was not smooth and easy as you hoped for, but you did not want anything to ruin your romantic date.
You were in Antoine’s car as he has driving he held your hand with his free hand. The night was bright, and the city lights were gleaming with the glow of love in the air. You could see lovely couples walking sideways off the road holding hands and spending time with their loved ones. It was a sweet evening.
Out of the blue Antoine asked a question, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a roommate?” You could hear insecurity in his words. You dodged the question by saying “Today’s our day honey, let’s not talk about him tonight.”
Since that day, you three use to hang out together. Though Antoine questioned a couple of times about Chandler and your relationship and insisted you stay with him instead. But you always use to change the topic because no one could have that much control over your decisions. You were the one in charge.
One night Antoine was staying over for the night and you both were just talking about random stuff staring at the ceiling and holding hands.
Out of nowhere, Antoine asked a question in a serious tone “So, who’s the better lover? Chandler or me?”
You were surprised to hear that and could not understand where all this coming was from.
“I mean there is no chance that you guys haven’t slept together ever, I could the way he looks at you and the way you change when you are around him.”
You sit up straight and in an irritated voice ask him “Where is all this coming from? How could you even say that?”
You both got out of bed and started arguing and yelling at each other. You did not even know how from one thing you came to a completely different topic. Whilst fighting you both reached the living room and Chandler came out of his room hearing your voices.
You did not expect to see him tonight as he told you he was working late. You felt bad fighting in front of him and wanted to take the argument somewhere private.
“What’s happening, guys? Is everything all right Y/N?” he asked with a concerned look on his face.
“Antoine let’s talk inside our room and Chandler is it nothing just a normal couple argument, you can sleep.” You suggested.
Antoine interrupted “No no no, you stay right here, it is all happening because of you. So, tell me how’s it going huh?”
Chandler still could not understand anything and asked, “How’s what going?”
“You fucking my girlfriend” yelled Antoine.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” questioned Chandler.
“Antoine for god’s sake stop accusing my best friend like that. Mind your tone!” you shouted.
Antoine starts coming at you in a rage and yelling at you. Chandler did not like the way he was talking to you so he comes in between defending you putting Antoine at a distance. Furious Antoine tries to punch Chandler out of his way and they start getting physical. Antoine was attempting another punch at Chandler until you yelled at both of them.
“Get out of my house right now, Antoine,” you demanded “No one gave you the right to talk about Chandler this way. You are such a manipulative, possessive, and insecure person. Get out right now, it’s over!”
Those words came out of your mouth in so much anger that you could not even realize what you were saying. Antoine grabbed his things and walked out of the apartment slamming the door hard.
“Y/N, are you okay?”
You ignore him and go into your room. Chandler stood in the middle of the living room thinking about whether to go in your room to comfort you or not. He decides on the former and knocks on your door and as he comes inside he finds you sobbing.
“I am so sorry Y/N, I know it’s my fault. I was hanging out way too much with you guys. I can understand why he feels what he feels. I will talk to him first thing in the morning and will move out.”
You hold his wrist and say “don’t you see what’s happening? It’s not your fault. Since high school, it had always been you. You came back into my life and so did my buried feelings for you. It changed everything.”
“You like me?” questions Chandler in shock.
“Of course, you dumbass.”
“How come you never said anything to me before?”
“I was afraid about the way you would react, and I did not want to ruin our friendship. What if I scared you off?”
Chandler gently wipes off your tears and hugs you “I would have never judged you. Out of all the girls or boys you were different Y/N. I was naturally attracted to you…I still am.”
Your heart skipped a beat hearing those words. You look deep into Chandler’s eyes and have long eye contact until Chandler hesitantly initiates a kiss. That night a stupid, sarcastic, and clumsy best friend turned into an insanely hot roommate whom you could not resist. You instantly gave in and started kissing him back with equal passion and hunger.
The night turned into the best sex you have ever had in your entire lifetime. It was gentle yet passionate and you could feel a connection that you have never experienced before.
The sun poured through your window, and another day had dawned in your life bringing new hopes and aspirations in your life. As you open your blurry eyes from sleep you find Chandler gazing at you.
“Argh you are watching me sleep, it’s so creepy.”
“I don’t care, you look so adorable while sleeping.” He cupped your cheeks and planted a sweet kiss on your lips.
“I…” you were cut off by the doorbell and you wondered who could be there at your door this early in the morning.
“I got it” suggested Chandler and realizing he is naked jumped back into the bed.
You chuckled and put on your night robe while tossing him his clothes. You go and open the door and see Antoine standing in front of you with your favorite flowers meanwhile when you were processing your thoughts, Chandler comes from behind shirtless asking “Who’s there sweetheart?”
Chandler freezes at his position on seeing your ex-boyfriend at the door and it follows a pin-drop silence between the three of you.
A/N: oh my god, that is some serious mess. What do you guys think would happen now? tagging @mrstaylorswift because she loves friends as much as I do <3
Shower your love by liking and commenting on the post. Refrain from copying, plagiarism, or posting on any other platform, honest feedback is welcomed.
THANK YOU!!!
P.S.: I also upload on Wattpad @immafreakingmoonstone, feel free to check out my account :)
Hello lovely I hope you are doing well just wondering if it's no trouble could I at all request a Chandler Bing x sister reader where she a teenager lives with him and Joey she's been having a stressful week and after she breaks down in front him and he just comforts her? If it's no trouble love your work btw 🥰 - Anon💜
Walking into the apartment, you slammed the front door behind you and stormed your way over to your brothers room.
“Woah. Everything okay?” Chandler asked.
“Fine.” You snapped.
Slamming the door behind you, you looked around the room.
It was still chandlers room, but it was easy to tell it had been taken over by you.
Sitting on the bed, you took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling, trying to fight the tears that were brimming your eyes.
Everything felt so hard, impossible.
Exams, grades, people at school, it was all so hard.
You thought about everything that had been going on over the week, and not even the fact it was now the weekend seemed to make it any better.
Slowly tears started to stream down your face, and you began to quietly sob into your hands.
Chandler had been waiting for you to come out of your room for ten minutes, but when you didn’t come out he started to worry.
You clearly weren’t in a good mood, and he wanted to talk to you about it.
Getting up, he walked over to the door and knocked.
“Weird knocking on my own door…” he mumbled.
He didn’t get a reply and he knocked again and waited.
“I’m going to come in.”
He closed his eyes and opened the door, slipping in he turned his back to your and opened his eyes, staring at the door.
You looked up, giving a weak laugh.
“What’re you doing…?” You mumbled.
“Well… I.. I know you don’t like people being in your space.”
“Then why’d you come in?”
“I want to know what’s bothering you.”
You sighed, wiping your eyes the best you could before taking a deep breath.
“I… it’s really hard…” you mumbled.
Chandler sighed, holding his hand out to you.
Grabbing it, you pulled him over and he sat on the bed next to you.
“Tell me all about it. I’m here to listen.”
You nodded your head and you started to explain everything to him.
You were struggling in your classes, you were trying to get extra support but it wasn’t working and you didn’t understand anything.
How people are school were annoying you and how everything just seemed so hard.
You started to tear up again and chandler wrapped his arm around you, holding you gently.
“You’re doing so well, I can help you with Math, Ross can help you with some other subjects.” He whispered.
“I.. I just… it’s so hard…” you whispered.
“I know kid. I know.” He mumbled.
Chandler sighed, holding you a little tighter.
“Let’s forget about it for now, exams aren’t for a few months, it’s the weekend, let’s do something.”
“I.. I can’t… I have to study…”
“Not yet you don’t. You’ll do perfect (Y/N), now come on, I know for a fact Joey stashed ice cream in the back of the freezer.”
Chandler stood up and gently pulled you up with him, leading you out the room he got you to sit down on his chair, and he grabbed the ice cream and two spoons.
Sitting on the arm of the chair, he took a spoonful and turned the TV on, handing you the remote.
You aimlessly flicked through the channels before settling on something.
Resting your head on his side, you dug into the ice cream along with him.
“We’ll get you through this.” He whispered to you.
“Thank you bro.” You whispered back.
Chandler smiled down at you and ruffled your hair making you laugh a little and swat his hand away.
Chandler would speak to the others later, he was going to do everything he could ti make sure you had all the support and help you needed
