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freedomfireflies · 7 months

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Always*

Summary: The fifth and final part to 404*

The one with car crashes and closet sex.

Word Count: 4.3k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

Arrogant Twat: Playing hooky, that’s not like you

Arrogant Twat: You’re not that cool

Arrogant Twat: I can see you reading my messages you know

Arrogant Twat: So if you’re ignoring me, it’s not working

Arrogant Twat: …okay seriously this is really fucking childish, are you really not gonna come to work just because I won’t fuck you?

Arrogant Twat: It’s been three days, Princess, you can’t hide from me forever

You: You are so fucking annoying, I am not hiding from you, I’m SICK

You: This may come as a surprise, but my world does not revolve around you or your cock

You: So if you don’t mind, I need to go throw up

Tossing your phone down onto the bed, you rush into the bathroom to grasp onto the sink and brace yourself over the porcelain. Silently willing your body to comply, to keep the fluids down. You don’t want to be sick, but thinking about Harry always tends to make you.

You smirk to yourself at the joke before running your hands under the cold stream of water to gently rinse off your face. Needing to feel something cool against your feverish skin before you slink back to bed.

Truth be told, you don’t mind the break from work. And from Harry, specifically. Sure, you understand why he ended things. And you aren’t exactly upset about it, seeing as he wasn’t really that great of company to keep.

But he’s angry. You know he’s angry, and that’s why he claimed he wanted to stop. And you feel guilty over having pushed him there, you do. After all, you knew better. You two don’t talk about anything personal. You don’t ask questions, you don’t pry. You don’t show any sort of emotion or understanding.

You broke the one rule. And truthfully, you aren’t quite sure how to face him now.

Overcome with fatigue, you slump back down onto your bed, and disappear beneath the covers. Pulling them up to your chin as a shiver rolls down your sweaty skin, all the way to your fuzzy sock-covered toes.

You try to watch some television to get your mind off the pain and congestion but find yourself growing sleepier with each quippy remark from Chandler Bing.

And before you know it, you’re out like a light.

The sharp chime of your cellphone is what wakes you. Pulling you from a rather odd dream as you groggily roll over and attempt to find the noise.

It’s a text message, followed shortly after by another. And once you manage to sit up and rub the sandman from your eyes, you see who it’s from.

Arrogant Twat: Open your door

Arrogant Twat: And hurry up, it’s fucking freezing out here

Curious, and a tad startled, you glance toward your bedroom door, almost as if expecting to see him.

He can’t possibly be outside of your apartment building right now. He has no idea where you live, nor would he ever have any desire to be here. This has to be some sort of prank. He’ll get you to walk outside into the freezing night air only to realize he’s nowhere to be found.

That is the Harry you know.

Arrogant Twat: For the love of God, Tinkerbell, open the fucking door before I freeze my ass off

With a huff (and a cough), you fling your covers back and pad over to your window, glancing down into the street.

And there he is, a dark shadowy figure lurking on the steps to your building, angrily glaring at his cellphone.

You feel your heart start to pound, overcome with confusion and intrigue. You don’t understand why he might be here or what he could possibly want so late at night. You’re tempted to send him away, or pretend he has the wrong address.

But you can’t deny that you’re curious as to what he might want or what he’ll say. Especially after the way things ended. Perhaps he’s merely here to catch you up on what you’ve missed with the project. Or maybe he just wants to complain in person.

Either way, you slip on some pajama shorts and a large, oversized sweatshirt for comfort, and head for the door.

With a deep breath, you buzz him in, and wait anxiously as the sound of steps echoes through the stairwell and between the halls.

No matter what happens, you’ll stand your ground. You don’t have the energy to fight him today. If he’s coming into your home, he’ll play by your rules.

There’s a knock on the door. Sharp and precise as you exhale shakily and step closer. Fingers curling around the doorknob before you swing it back and come face to face with the troublemaker himself.

He stands in the doorframe, a dark hoodie pulled over his head, and glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

In his right hand, he holds a brown bag, allowing it to dangle casually at his side while his eyes rake up and down your figure.

“Shit, you look terrible,” he snorts, pressing his shoulder against the entryway. “Worse than usual, I mean.”

Your expression falls, a glare beginning to form. “Well, this was fun. Buh-bye now,” you huff, already beginning to shut the door in his face.

However, he’s quick to outstretch his hand and smack his palm against the wood, keeping it open. “Okay, all right. Geez, it was just a joke. D’ya lose your sense of humor or something?”

“No, that just wasn’t funny,” you retort, but allow the door to stay ajar. “What do you want?”

He lifts the bag into the air and shakes it once. “Brought you soup.”

You blink. “You…what? Why?”

He shrugs once. “Cause you’re sick,” he says, now brushing past you to make his way into your living room. “And I’m nice.”

“Uh…no,” you nearly scoff, turning around to watch him flop down onto your sofa. “You are anything but nice to me, and you know it.”

“Well, I’m being nice today.”

“Why?”

“Yeah, why? Is it poisoned or something?”

You catch his wry smile as he begins to unpack the items and set them onto your coffee table. “Guess there’s only one way to find out, yeah?”

Hesitantly, you shut the door, and follow after him. Cautious of his intentions but drawn to the smell of the delicious food.

He hands you a bowl and some cutlery – which you take rather tentatively – before he straightens up and stares at you. “Are you gonna sit down?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, eyeing the only spot available beside him on the couch. “Are you still gonna be an asshole?”

“Probably.”

You huff but catch yourself smirking. “Fine, but scoot over.”

With an amused exhale of his own, he does as instructed, moving toward the edge of the sofa to make room before sitting down as well.

Your small apartment fills with a rather uncomfortable quiet as the two of you begin to dig into your food. The silence accompanied by faint slurps and sips that almost make you smile.

And it feels weird to be here with him like this. Relaxing on the couch, eating some soup like you don’t despise each other.

Perhaps you’d even enjoy his company under any other circumstance.

Clearing your throat, you angle your body toward his, studying his profile as his eyebrow raises. “Why are you here? Really?”

He shifts in your direction as well, grinning deviously from behind his takeout container. “Told you, I’m being nice—”

“Wrong. You’re never nice. Besides, you just accused me of hiding from you, so I don’t exactly think we’re on the best of terms.”

This makes his amusement fade, a subtle frown beginning to form as he shrugs one shoulder up in a nonchalant manner. “I don’t know. I guess it’s an apology.”

“For what?”

“For saying that,” he admits, almost quietly. Avoiding your eye as he stares at his noodles. “And maybe I kind of thought you were lying and wanted to see for myself.”

“Would you like me to vomit for you? Will that prove I’m actually unwell?”

He smiles again. “Nah, I’m good—”

“Really, it’s no trouble. I’ll do it right now, all over your lap—”

“All right,” he groans, leaning back with a crinkled nose. “Ew. No. I believe you, Princess. Fuck’s sake.”

Satisfied, you nod once. “Great. Now, onto my next question. How the hell did you get my address?”

“How do you think?” His expression is mischievous. “Got it from your file.”

“What? Why do you have access to my file?”

“Cause Prescott’s security system is way too easy to hack,” he says simply. “And I knew you’d never tell me.”

“Right. Because we don’t do that.”

“We don’t,” he agrees. “But we’re not fucking anymore, so it’s fine.”

“Oh, is it?”

“Yeah.”

“And how exactly does that work?”

“Because,” he begins, setting his things down on the coffee table, “if we’re not fucking, that means there’s no chance of you getting all clingy and attached.”

Your eyes narrow. “Uh-huh.”

“Which means we can hang out without you falling for me,” he finishes, rather smugly. “So it’s fine.”

“Just because we aren’t fucking doesn’t mean we’re friends,” you argue. “I still hate you.”

“I know. I hate you, too.”

Yet for some reason, you both smile.

“Now what’s the real reason?” you urge, nodding your chin at him. “Honestly. Why are you really here?”

He takes a beat to mull this over, standing from the sofa to collect his trash and take it to your kitchen. “Told you,” he finally says before tossing away his things. “You’re sick, and I felt bad.”

“Is that all?”

Another long pause settles between you as he readjusts the hood over his curls and saunters over to your window seat. “I didn’t want you to be hiding from me,” he admits as he slumps down, eyes flicking out into the dark night. “So I wanted to make sure we were good.”

You study him silently, taking in the way his hands disappear into the large pocket on his abdomen. “Yeah, we’re good,” you quietly reply.

He nods once but keeps his attention on the city. “Good. Cause you don’t have to hide, you know. We’re fine.”

“Yeah, I know. I just said that.”

His body lifts and falls with a small chuckle before he props his legs up onto the cushions and tosses his arms over his knees. “Well, you seemed pissed.”

“Well, I wasn’t the one that threw a hissy fit and fled from the car,” you retort. “In fact, I’m the one that politely agreed and let you go.”

“Right, but you were pissy about it. I could tell.”

“You are so full of shit.”

He laughs again. “I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”

“Oh, I am. But not for that.”

He looks over. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re annoying, and you’re rude, and you’re so fucking pretentious,” you list, fighting a grin. “But you have a right to keep things to yourself, and I shouldn’t have asked. So…I’m sorry.”

He nods once, as if acknowledging the apology before returning his gaze to the window. “S’fine.”

Another lull drifts into the conversation, minutes passing by before you notice his expression shift.

“It’s not you,” he murmurs, and your eyebrows lift.

“What?”

He shifts a bit before clearing his throat. “It’s not you, I just…I don’t talk about it. Or…her.”

Her.

The first piece to the rather large puzzle sitting before you, and you feel your breath catch as you await the rest.

You notice the way he hesitates. The reflection of the night sky in his glasses. The nervous tapping of his fingers.

“Cause if I don’t talk about it, then I don’t have to think about it,” he whispers. “And if I don’t think about, then I don’t feel like putting my fucking fist through a wall, you know?”

“I know,” you answer quietly. “You don’t have to, it’s okay.”

He snorts to himself, leaning forward. “She never should have been in that fucking car. I was supposed to drive her. She was supposed to be with me.”

And even without much context, you feel your stomach wrench, already anticipating what might have happened.

“But she was late,” he says. And it’s angry, the way he speaks. Resentful. “She was out with her friends, and she was late to meet me, and I had shit to do. So I told her. I told her I couldn’t take her to the fucking party she wanted to go to. Because I didn’t want to be out all fucking night. I wanted to get my shit done and go to bed.”

You feel your throat run dry, tears beginning to form as you watch him recall the memory.

“I told her to get an Uber,” he continues, aggravated at first before it settles into something soft and somber. “I made her get into that car, and I watched her go. And I didn’t fucking care. Because I wanted to stay home, so I made her go by herself, and it fucking…and she didn’t…”

Your feet desperately want to carry you to him. To provide him some sort of comfort as he keeps his glare on the city horizon.

But you stay seated on the sofa, waiting for whatever he might offer next as he takes a deep breath.

“And she was just gone,” he murmurs, the air in the room shifting instantly. “She was fucking gone not even an hour later.”

The first drop slips down your cheek before you can wipe it away.

He exhales an amused laugh, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “And I always think how funny it is that the last thing she ever said to me was, ‘Sleep well, H.’ And I haven’t slept well since.”

Now, he looks to you. Studying you almost sadly as you sit in wait.

“And then there was you,” he says. “You, and your shitty ass jokes, and your cocky little grin. You were everywhere. Every day. Sitting across from me, asking if I wanted to split a fucking everything bagel.”

You’re almost tempted to smile, but the truth of what he’s saying cuts too deep.

“And I hated it,” he admits, eyes flicking between yours. “I fucking hated it because you made me forget. Whenever I would talk to you, I would forget. I would just stare at you as you rambled on and on about the algorithm and the fucking API, and I wouldn’t think about her, and I’d forget how fucking angry I was.”

He smiles almost wryly, making your insides twist.

“And I didn’t want to forget,” he tells you. “I wanted to be angry. I wanted to punish myself for what I’d done. Because I didn’t deserve to forget. I didn’t deserve to be happy. Especially with you.”

You sit up, wrestling with the temptation to argue, but he’s already looking back out the window.

“So, yeah, maybe hating you was easier. And maybe fucking you was selfish, but it felt like the only choice. Because sex is just sex. And if I kept you at a distance – at least in some ways – I wouldn’t have to lose you, too.”

You stand and make your way for the window seat, settling in front of him as he turns to watch you. He looks like he wants to roll his eyes, perhaps in an attempt to avoid your pity, but you lean forward, nonetheless.

“You know it’s not your fault, right?” you whisper, ignoring his amused expression. “You don’t deserve to be punished for something you couldn’t control.”

He smirks, but you can see the hint of sadness written between the lines of his face. “Thanks, Dr. Phil. I’ll keep that in mind.”

But you don’t let him tease his way out of this, instead settling your hands atop his knees to recapture his attention. “I’m serious, Harry. I know she wouldn’t blame you. How can you blame yourself?”

His smug grin falters for half a second. “Because there’s no one else to blame.”

A lump lodges in your throat as you scoot a bit closer. “Exactly. It was an accident. Unfair and uncontrollable. But it was never your fault. It was never your burden to carry.”

He leans his head back against the wall, but his attention never leaves you. Almost as though he’s afraid to look away.

“You can hate me,” you tell him. “I don’t mind that. Hating you is easier for me, too. But you can’t punish yourself for this. You can’t keep yourself from being happy. Not when you deserve it more than anybody I know.”

And maybe this is the first time you’ve ever really understood him. The first time you’ve felt truly connected to the man before you – even more so than when he was inside of you.

Because suddenly, things don’t feel so heavy. The world doesn’t seem so dark. And maybe, just maybe…he’s not so bad.

He drops his legs and sits up to reach for you. A large palm slipping around the back of your neck while you suck in a quiet breath and lean away.

“No,” you whisper, making his eyebrows raise. “I’m sick.”

He laughs, almost as though enchanted by your response. That charming dimple reemerging. “I don’t care.”

“Well you should,” you argue. “Seriously, it’s gross over here. There’s snot and I’ve been coughing all day—”

“Tink,” he murmurs, moving closer, attention dropping to your lips. “Stop talking.”

So…you do.

You let his mouth press to yours, settling into the feel of his touch. Something you weren’t sure you’d ever get to feel again. And despite everything else…you’re content.

He kisses your top lip. Your bottom lip. Steals a breath right from your lungs before nudging his nose with yours. “I still hate you.”

Your fingers tangle into the dark hoodie on his chest. “Yeah. I hate you, too.”

He smiles.

You aren’t sure what to expect come Monday morning. After all, you’re never sure what to expect with Harry.

You left things…friendly but undecided. As far as you know, nothing has changed. Harry is still the arrogant twat you’re forced to tolerate, and maybe that’s all he’ll ever be.

But maybe…you’re okay with that.

If you never fuck him again, perhaps that’s not the worst thing. Becoming his frenemy is decidedly less exhausting than being anything else. And you suppose you don’t want much more than that. At least not right now. You’re happy to hate him for as long as he’ll let you.

But you aren’t sure how he’ll feel about his admission in the light of day. Maybe he’ll regret sharing something so personal. Maybe he’ll resent you for knowing it. Maybe he’ll request the two of you never speak again.

Lucas does his best to engage in small talk with you as you anxiously await Harry’s arrival. Politely ignoring the way you continue to check your watch and glance toward his desk.

In fact, you eventually become so engrossed in the conversation with the friendly newcomer that you miss that aforementioned ball of thunder striding through the lab.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary. He throws his things down and slouches into his chair to begin working. Not bothering with a greeting or even a look of acknowledgement.

Truth be told, you aren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed.

And then the lunch hour begins. You assume he’ll disappear to the cafeteria as usual to grab a sandwich before returning to hide himself away in the lab.

Yet today is different. Today he stands up, turns around, and steps up to where you’re sitting.

Before you can even turn around, he dips down, and whispers, “Supply closet. Five minutes.”

With that, he’s gone. Slipping between the computers and desks before disappearing into the hallway as a smile stretches across your face.

After anxiously counting the seconds, you begin to follow. Double checking to make sure no one pays you any mind.

Once you’re satisfied, you make your way to the closet, and knock twice.

The door swings open, and you barely get the chance to offer a greeting before he’s tugging you inside, flinging the door shut, and pushing you up against it.

His lips find yours and it’s anxious. His kisses are desperate and rushed but so fucking addictive.

His hands are on your waist while yours disappear into his hair. His glasses are nudged out of place but neither of you care to stop and fix them. Instead groaning eagerly as he sucks on your tongue.

His hips press to yours, the subtle but familiar bulge hard against your thigh as you drop your head back and whimper. Anxiously pleading with him through a pointed look.

The flick of the button on your jeans is fast and practiced. The material pooling around your ankles while he works to tug his own pants down.

Two fingers hook onto the crotch of your panties to pull them aside before he slides the long digits through. Feeling just how frantic you really are.

He kisses you again as he slides them inside, curling and pumping just so. Smirking when he hears your arousal echo between the walls.

Nipping at your bottom lip, he whispers, “This doesn’t change anything. I still hate you.”

Sighing contently at the way his thumb massages your clit, you say, “Good. I hate you, too.”

He snorts. “Sure, Princess. Is that why you’re so fucking wet?”

To accentuate his point, he thrusts to the knuckle, stroking a particular spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

“S’fucking pathetic,” he murmurs, glancing down, “how easy it is to play with you. Don’t have to do anything, do I? Just have to tease you a little and you’ll soak my fucking hand.”

Your fingers curl into his shirt, either as an act of defiance or out of need for stability. You aren’t sure.

“Cause you like it, don’t you?” he continues, moving his kisses to your neck. “Gets you off to be insulated. Degraded. Get all wet and squirmy at the thought of me putting you in your place, yeah?”

You don’t want to agree with him, but you both know he’s right. Even now, the cold cadence in which he speaks makes your legs shake.

“Yeah,” he answers for you in a soft but smug hum. “Know you do. Know you just wanna be put on your knees. Where you belong.”

With this thought, he pulls his fingers from your pussy, leaving you to wilt while he tugs his cock out.

There’s not much care as he swiftly and almost angrily tugs your leg up and throws it around his hip. He offers no words of reassurance or looks of encouragement while the tip drags through your folds before slowly disappearing into your cunt.

He ignores your strangled inhale, forehead finding yours as he grits, “Maybe I should do that next. Wrap your pretty ponytail around my fist while I fuck your throat.”

Your lashes flutter shut, nails scraping down his arms.

“Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Tink?” He pauses for only a moment to let you adjust. “Like it when I make tears run down your face, yeah?”

However, you can’t offer him any reply. Instead focusing on the familiar ache that accompanies the stretch of his large size.

He pushes in a bit more, wary of your reaction, but overcome with pleasure at the way you take him. “You do,” he decides, that smile returning. “Can feel your little pussy clenching around me. Is that what you want, Princess? Want me to be mean to you?”

Truth be told, you suppose it is. Anything else wouldn’t feel right.

His hand raises to your throat, fingers curling around the delicate and soft skin of your neck before he squeezes once. Keeping your head pressed against the door.

“Take me,” he murmurs harshly before burying himself all the way. Ignoring your gasps and whines. “Fucking take me, Tink. Just like that. S’a good fucking girl. Always behave so well for me, hm? Just for me. Nobody else.”

He sets a slow but hard pace. Looking down at where his cock disappears into your pussy with a dazed look in his eye.

“Do you think about him, Princess?” he asks you next, giving your throat another squeeze. “D’ya think about your precious fucking Lucas when I fuck you? Or do you think about him when you’re all alone? Trying to get yourself off?”

Your mouth opens, ready to reply, but all that follows his remark is a desolate and strained whimper.

“Or do you think about me?” His lips ghost along the tender skin below your ear. Breathing softly before kissing the spot sweetly. A stark contrast to the vile way he speaks. “Think about how good I am to you…how I take care of you. Picture my hands, my voice, my fucking cock.”

And he’s right. In every fantasy, you see his face, first and foremost. Whisper his name into the air of your room as your fingers curl into your cunt.

It’s always him.

“Say it,” he murmurs now, offering another gentle kiss to your neck. “Tell me I’m the only one. Fucking tell me I’m the only one you cum for.”

Your fingernails move to scrape down his scalp, tangling in his soft curls as you subtly keep him in your arms.

You’re not too surprised by this request. Even if the two of you might never be anything more than friends, you imagine he needs to know. He needs to hear that even after everything, you still choose him.

You’re tempted to taunt him with a quippy retort. Egg him on, tell him he’s nothing compared to your vibrator.

Yet you find yourself whispering, “Only you, Har. Only ever you.”

For a moment, he stills. As if overcome by the words, the admission.

You pull him further into your embrace. “Always you.”

With a smirk, he leans back just far enough to meet your eye.

And you both smile.

“That’s my fucking girl.”

🥹 I can't believe we've made it to the end of the main series!!! No they're not technically together right now, BUT!!! There will be extras and who knows what they might get up to later ALSFJEFD

Thank you so much to everyone for reading and being so kind, I appreciate you all more than you know!!! You have my entire heart to heaven and back!!!! AND TINK, HARRY, AND I WILL SEE YOU AGAIN VERY SOON!! Specifically for the Halloween extra HAHAHA 😭♥️♥️

Next Part:

~ A-Mazing* (Halloween Extra)

Previous Part:

~ Jealous* (Pt. 4)

~ Full 404 Masterlist

~ Main Masterlist

~ Blurb Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince @closureesny @lc-fics @0nlythrowharrybeaux @daphnesutton @love-letters-to-uranus @kirstiea05 @lovrave @princessprongs @nuggetdean @storyschanging

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writerdream22 · 1 year

Text

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

pairing: Chandler Bing x reader, Joey Tribbiani x reader (platonic), Monica Geller x reader (platonic), Rachel Green x reader (platonic), etc.

prompts used: “Have you ever seen anything prettier than this?” “Yeah, you”

warnings: mentions of smoking. English is not my first language so there might be some grammatical errors

feedbacks are always appreciated!

REQUESTS ARE CURRENTLY OPEN!

You did not like parties. At all.

It just was not your thing, and everyone knew that. That was the main reason why you had decided to stay home and relax rather than attend a Thanksgiving party with your best friends.

You did not understand why they were so attached to the tradition, anyways. The fact that you didn't grow up in an American household didn't help with that. Nonetheless, you weren't the only one who didn't always celebrate the festivity

“Do you have them?” Chandler Bing barged into your apartment. He held a couple of beers in one hand, and a bag in the other where there seemed to be some food.

“Yes.” you responded, sitting up from your sofa “I only had one quilted blanket, because Monica somehow couldn't tell me where she'd put the others. As for the pillows— well, I have two”. Chandler shrugged, then motioned for you to get going. You exited your apartment closing the door behind you, while silently hoping that none of your roommates came back while you weren't home.

───────────────────────────

There was a full moon. The city was still buzzing, it was amazing how its lights were never turned off. You loved it. And the company just added to your enjoyment of the night.

You'd laughed at Chandler's never-ending jokes for so long that your cheeks hurt, and you'd eaten so much that you swore you would never open a packet of chips again.

“Have you ever seen something prettier than this?” you questioned, looking up at the sky in awe .

Chandler stayed silent for a few, awkward moments, before responding. “Yeah” he said “you”.

What the hell?

“Are you... are you drunk? I can make you that strange smoothie that we always had in college, if you want—”

“— no, y/n” he interrupted you, rolling his eyes.

You were more confused than ever, so you asked Chandler what he meant by that. “I'll cut to the chase” he began “I love you, y/n. Everything makes me think about you: even when I just stare at the wall or drink a coffee, you're what's on my mind. And look, if you don't reciprocate my feelings, I totally get it.”

You couldn't find the words to answer coherently. Those damned feelings.

“Are you for real?” you questioned, to which Chandler responded “Yes. I know it's shocking, but I'm being serious this time”. He took a deep breath before adding that he was going to pass out if you didn't say anything.

“Oh, I'm sorry!” you exclaimed “Well, uhm... I love you too, Chandler. I have loved you since we first met... Since Ross and Monica introduced the two of us”.

He was clearly trying to hold back a smile, but he failed miserably at doing so when you nudged him and remarked that you had to throw out those “best friends” mugs that you'd bought as a joke a few years prior.

“Yeah... We should.”

You didn't think you could be happier on Thanksgiving Day.

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imaginetheonewith · 8 months

Text

The one where Chandler & Y/N end up having a fake baby

Pairing: Chandler Bing x f!reader

Warnings: reader is a little bit of a bi*ch in the beginning, but other than that no <3

Author's note: loosely based on “The One With The East German Laundry Detergent” (only in the beginning); also I know I have been a little bit inactive here, but requests are open.

"So, Saturday night, the big night, date night, Saturday night, Sat-ur-day night!"

Chandler's excited voice sounded behind you, before he jumped next to the sofa, almost tripping while doing his little dance. You, Phoebe, Ross, Joey and Monica looked at him from your place around the sofa, before exchanging a knowing look between yourselves. As always, the weekend got Chandler way too excited to not do anything and spend his entire day hanging out at the coffee house, before he gets home so he can watch "Baywatch".

"No plans, huh?", Joey asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Not a one", Bing sighed, taking a seat at the empty chair next to the bar. A sudden thought entered your mind and you bit your lip, trying to suppress your smirk.

"Not even, say, breaking up with Janice?", you asked innocently, before bringing the cup of already cold cappuccino to your lips. He gave you annoyed look and you bashed your lashes at him, trying to ignore Ross' snickering next you.

"Oh right... right...", the brunette man murmured under his breath, his finger moving up and down, as if he was mentally calculating the priority of the said task in his imaginary "to-do list". Suddenly his eyes widened, before he jumped on his chair and extended his arms towards you.

"Shut up" he almost yelled through a wide smile, before slumping back to his original position with a scowl on his face.

It was not a secret that while they have been dating for months, Chandler and Janice's relationship was questionable... to everyone. What was supposed to be a one night stand ended in a rapidly progressing relationship, in which Chandler has been trying to break things off almost every week, so far unsuccessfully (apart from that one weekend a few months ago). While all of his friends were showing sympathy at the beginning, you couldn't help but feel bad for Janice too. Sure, she was loud and annoying, and overly excited about everything, but she was also clearly in love with your best friend.

"Chandler, nobody likes breaking up with someone", Monica tried to reason, putting her coffee down on the table, "You just gotta do it."

The man rolled his eyes, before opening and closing his mouth a few times, trying to find the best words to describe his reasons for trying to avoid meeting with Janice today.

"No, I know, but it's just so hard, you know? I mean, you're sitting there with her, she has no idea what's happening, and then you finally get up the courage to do it, and there's the horrible awkward moment when you've handed her the note."

You almost spit your coffee at his last words, and you had to get a few back rubs from Joey in order to be able to get a gulp of fresh air. Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you eyed Chandler with suspicion.

"I can't believe you!", you exclaimed, lifting your hands in front of your face, "Are you not feeling at least a little bit bad for her? You've been stringing her along for months. She deserves to know the truth."

"Stringing her along?", he bit back, looking at you in disbelief, "She has been holding me hostage for months. There is a slight difference there, Y/N."

You opened your mouth to reply but the words stopped in your mouth once you felt Ross's warm hand on yours. He shook his head in a "no" motion, silently telling you that no matter what you say, you won't be able to reason with your friend.

From all of the people in the group, you knew Ross and Chandler the longest. Ross was one of your best friends during college and Chandler was... well, Chandler. He was a good and funny guy, yet your friendship never really evolved in anything past the stage of acquaintances. While you spend time together with everyone else, you never hang out alone and you if by any chance you meet on the street or in the coffee house, you have nothing more than a short casual chat about the weather or today's news.

It was not that you did not like Chandler. He was kind, good-looking, smart and with an amazing sense of humor. You even had a crush on him for a whole year after you met him, despite his weirdly styled hair. However, his commitment issues and inability to stay serious in any type of situation quickly made you realize that there is zero chance for something to happen between you and you are better off as just friends. Chandler has also never really showed any interest in you, other than jokingly flirting with you every now and then, but he did that with everyone so you never read into it too much.

Sensing the awkward silence, Joey was the first to break it by giving his typical advice.

"Why do you have to break up with her?", he raised his shoulders and looked between all of you, as if searching for your support, "Be a man, just stop calling."

You, Phoebe and Monica let out a groan in unison, rolling your eyes at him. While comments like this did stop bothering you a long time ago, you were feeling obliged to show your dissatisfaction at some of his relationship opinions.

Chandler looked at him for a few seconds, his mind deep in thought, but then shook his head, before looking at the rest of the group for help.

"Oh, I know, I know!", Phoebe jumped up and down of the sofa, while clapping her hands, "Y/N can join you."

Your eyes widened and you turned towards her, ready to protest, but were interrupted by Chandler, who looked more annoyed than shocked.

"Oh, thanks, but I think she'd feel like we're gangin' up on her."

"Plus", you added, "I wouldn't want to risk ending up in a poly relationship. I mean Janice is fine, but Chandler..."

"Hey!", he pointed at you, "I am a great lover."

"And almost 6 years of friendship, we are still waiting for a reliable source to testify to that statement", you looked towards the ceiling, while tapping your index finger on your chin, "Oh wait... there is none."

The moment you said these words, you felt the feeling of regret washing over you. The comment sounded way funnier in your head, but it came out way harsher than you intended it to be. And judging by the look on Chandler's face, he also didn't find any humor in it.

"Chandler, I..."

"No, no, you're right."

With these words, he stood up and headed towards the door, before slamming it behind him. You felt of the group's eyes on you and for the first time in your life, you wished there will be a sudden earthquake which will open the deepest crack in the floor, where you can spend your remaining days drowning in guilt and misery.

"Wow", Ross muttered, sneakily looking towards Monica, who silently mouthed "I know" at him.

"I don't know why I said that...", you buried your head in your hands and exhaled deeply, "Can this day get any worse than that? I am so sorry guys." The friends looked at each other and soon they all sat around you on the sofa, embracing your slumped body in their arms. You stayed like that for a few minutes, before you murmured you had to get home. It seems your Saturday was already doomed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

No matter how hard you tried to take your mind off Chandler, he was the only thing you could think about. The harshness of your words kept ringing inside your head, filling you with guilt.

Why did you even said that? It seems the words escaped your lips, before you even had the chance to think them over. And the worst part was you had no idea how you can make things right. Would he ever speak to you again? Would he even give you the chance to listen to you?

Frustrated with all the questions in your head, you turned off the TV and quickly grabbed your bag and coat. You needed to get out of your apartment and get somewhere where you could have some time to think. Maybe even speak to someone... and what better place to do this than "Central Perk"?

10 minutes later and a hot cup of pumpkin latte, you quickly regretted your decision once Chandler barged through the door. In a minute of panic you quickly ducked at the front of the sofa, hoping that he has not seen you.

"Y/N?"

You cursed under your breath, before lifting your head. Chandler was sitting on the edge of the sofa, looking at you with a slight smirk on his lips.

"Chandler!", you sat on your knees, while brushing your hair on the side, "I did not see you there."

"Strange", he smiled sarcastically, cocking his head to the side, "I wonder if it has something to do with the fact that your head was buried into the carpet."

You let out an awkward chuckle, lifting yourself onto the couch. You licked your lips, trying to gather at least one reasonable excuse for the position he found you in.

"Ha-ha, you see....", you paused, letting out another chuckle, "I was actually... checking for bugs."

"Bugs?", Chandler raised his eyebrows.

"Yes!", you exclaimed, almost too excitedly, "You see I thought something bit me earlier, so I decided to investigate what it was."

The man looked at you for a minute, carefully studying your face in silence. You met his gaze, but soon felt a drop of sweat slowly sliding down your forehead. The intensity of his stare made you shift uncomfortably in your place and you let another awkward chuckle, gathering the courage to speak about what happened earlier.

"Look, Chandler..."

He lifted his palm towards you, stopping your sentence:

"Look, I am not mad. You are right, I do not have great record with women and I know that it is because of me that most of my relationships don't work."

You closed your eyes, letting out a small sign. Without much hesitation, you reached towards one of his hands, wrapping your fingers around it.

"You are an amazing, amazing man, Chandler Bing", you opened your eyelids again, only to find him already staring at you. The sudden eye contact caused a warm feeling to wash over your whole body and you bit your lips in order to stop any inappropriate thought slipping out.

"You are smart, funny, kind and an amazing friend. And while you may not have found your soulmate yet, I know she is one very, very lucky lady. Because I know I would be, if I end up with someone like you."

His fingers squeezed your hand and his body shifted towards you, without breaking eye contact. You gulped, feeling the blood rushing towards your cheeks. You have not seen Chandler like this for years, yet the feeling of his warm skin on yours and his musky perfume made your old feelings rush like a waterfall on you.

"Oh. My. God."

The sudden sound of Janice's voice made you jump apart, resulting with Chandler being on the floor.

"Chandler", Janice exclaimed, looking between both of you, "What is the meaning of this?"

He opened his mouth, but could get nothing more than a groan, so he quickly closed it again. Lifting himself, he opened his arms to his girlfriend, letting out a fake laugh.

"Janice, I am so glad you are here!", he cried, before turning towards the bar, "Can I get an espresso and two lattes over here, please?"

He pushed the dark haired woman towards the sofa, pushing her to sit next to you. You smiled awkwardly at her, putting your bag on your shoulder.

"Nice to see you, Janice! I was just going. Hope you two have a nice.... date?"

You made an attempt to get up, but felt a hand harshly pulling you back down. Looking down, Janice's red nails were firmly wrapped around your wrist, keeping you in place.

"Nuh-uh, missy. I want to know what is going on between you and Chandler."

"Me and Chandler?", you chocked, putting a hand on your chest, "There is nothing going on between us. I don't understand... We are just friends."

She finally let go of your hand, only to cross her arms in front of her chest and squint her eyes at you.

"Really?", her voice suddenly got higher and louder, making you wince, "So you just tell al your friends you would feel lucky if you ended up with them."

"Where is the coffee? Where is the coffee?", Chandler shook on his chair next to you.

You on the other hand could not form even one sentence. Like a mouse trapped in a trap, you could do nothing more than to stare back at her with wide eyes and flushed face. Were you that into Chandler, that you could not see his girlfriend right behind you?

Before you could form any words into your defense, Chandler spoke:

"We are dating. Y/N and I are dating."

Both you and Janice both turned your heads towards him at the same time.

"What?", you said in unison.

"That's right", he nodded, quickly wiping the sweat of his forehead with his shirt sleeve, "We have been dating for six months now."

Janice stared at him in shock for few minutes, before bursting into laughter.

"My little Bing-a-ling!", she grabbed a handful of his cheek, pulling him towards her, "I get it now! This is one of your silly little jokes! You almost got me there!"

He continued laughing, while Chandler's face twisted in pain. His eyes met yours and he mouthed "Help me", while trying to pull away from the woman's grip. You spend a second, considering if that is a good time to leave, but against your better judgement you decide to play along.

"Janice", you grabbed her hand away from Chandler's cheek, turning her towards you, "It is true. Me and Chandler are together."

"But how?", her eyes started to fill with tears, before she turned towards him, "Are you cheating on me?"

"What? NO!"

You quickly glared at Chandler, making him only shake his shoulders in response.

"Then how is this possible?", Janice kept looking between both of you, trying to make sense of the situation.

"She is keeping me hostage", your friend suddenly said, making you roll your eyes. You were trying to go along with his little story but he was making it really, really difficult. You started to wonder if you didn't do a mistake by staying here.

"Hostage?", Janice yelled, getting the attention of a few customers around you. You smiled awkwardly at them, before squeezing her hand once again and giving a warning look to Chandler to keep his mouth shut.

"No, I am not keeping anyone hostage", you assured her, "And we have not told you the full truth."

You took a moment of silence and looked at Chandler for help, but he had his nose buried in his third cup of espresso. Letting out a small sign, you've pulled Janice's hand till it rested on your stomach:

"The truth is... I am pregnant... with Chandler's child."

Your words made him choke on his drink and some of the liquid started dripping out of his nose. Janice looked at you with an open mouth, barely blinking.

"Pregnant?... What... How?"

"Well... You and Chandler were broken up a few months ago and I felt so lonely that I invited him for a movie... Then one thing led to another, and... Boom! I am pregnant."

Finally getting himself together, Chandler took a seat next to Janice and rubbed comforting circles on her shoulder.

"Janice, I am really, really sorry!"

Both of her looked at her shocked form, waiting for her to burst into tears, but surprisingly that never happened. You and your friend exchanged worrying looks, before you cautiously asked:

"Janice, are you okay?"

Shaking her head she gave a thin lipped smile, before turning to Chandler:

"Listen, Bing... I really like you and you are very nice guy, but I don't think it could work out between us. I mean you are going to have a baby with Y/N and I am not ready to be a step-mom. I really hope you understand and I do wish you the best."

She turned towards you:

"To both of you."

With these words she stood up and grabbed her coat, leaving you and Chandler frozen on the sofa. Only once she was out of the door, you relaxed back and let out the breath, which you didn't even know you were holding.

"A baby?", Chandler asked with furrowed eyebrows.

"A hostage?", you asked back, raising yours. Seeing your logic, he nodded his head, before letting out a quiet chuckle: "Oh, freedom does taste niiiceeee."

You let out a laugh, gently packing him on the back. But before you could congratulate him on his new status as a single man, Ross, Monica, Joey, Phoebe and Rachel ran through the door, almost jumping on top of both of you:

"You two are going to have a baby?"

Oh crap.

#chandler bing x y/n #chandler bing #friends imagine #friends fanfic #chandler bing x reader #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #fandom #90s #fanfic #imagine #fluff

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perrywinkleeeee · 4 months

Note

chandler bing x reader (whose in the group)

The One with the Cookie Crumbs

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

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

Monica Geller x reader (sister)

warning(s) ᕯ none

Word count ⚘ 2.439k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, you gotta talk to her.”

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

“I don't know, ask her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahem…”

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, well. If you want me to.”

“I kinda have a visitor.”

“Who?”

“Rachel, Rachel Green?”

“Rachel?!”

“She took over your room.”

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

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

"Yeah, someone took over."

"Who?"

"Rachel…"

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

"Rachel Green?!”

#chandler bing x reader #chandler bing #monica geller x reader #monica geller #ross geller #friends #friends x reader #friends to lovers

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her-power · 5 months

Text

The End of All Things (e.m. x fem reader)

C/W: 18++++ MDNI, I'm serious! Sweet! Eddie, smut, fluff, fingering (f receiving) oral (f+m receiving) unprotected p in v (don't be silly, wrap your willy!) making out, swearing, grief, hurt/comfort, parentloss, death, talk of death, best friends in love summary: This takes place 5 years after the events of S4. Midsummer 1991. Eddie & reader are in their mid twenties. Eddie is your best friend and has come to you after an unimaginable loss you just endured. You realize your feelings for him during this time, and sweetness and sexiness ensues. I originally was going for a subtle smutty-ness, but I got carried away, whoooops. (I suck at summaries, I'm so sorry)

A/N: This is based off of a life changing event that happened to me when I was seventeen. A lot of it has actual conversations/reactions from said event. This was insanely therapeutic for me to write, and I thank you all for reading this if you do, this goes out to all the ones who suffered a loss and are still actively healing. I see you, you are a rockstar and keep going <3 I also pay a little homage to Matthew Perry/Chandler Bing. I'm still not over it and Chandler will always be my comfort character like Eddie. This may have multiple parts, I also semi-proofread this, sorry for any mistakes! The title is a Panic! At the Disco song, it's been on repeat for awhile for me and I think it's perfect for this so definitely take a listen to it after you read this.

Word Count: 7.5k

“She’s gone.”

Your breath hitches as you stare at the wide amber eyes of your father from where you sat on the couch. He was clasping your hands tight as you stared at him. Your throat tightens.

“You’re lying.” A smirk tugs at your lips, this was a joke. The second those words left your lips you felt something cold creep up your spine, turning your stomach into knots.

“Honey, I’m not. She’s gone, she—”

You stand up fast, ripping your hands out of his. Your bottom lip trembles as you feel your tears burn the corners of your eyes.

“You’re lying!” You yell at him. “Where’s Mom?! Where is she?! You’re lying!”

Your father drops his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking with sobs. You knew he wasn’t lying; you knew it. It didn’t mean you had to believe it.

She wasn’t dead. She wasn’t dead. Wasn’t. Dead. She’s dead.

Those words swirl in your mind as you quietly groan. Your fingers clench at the hem of your black camisole, pulling and tugging at the thin material, feeling too hot, too tight.

“N-no…” You whimper, your vision blurring as you stare at your distraught father.

Your very core burns, it stings, and you couldn’t tell if you had a heartbeat. Is that what she felt? You wonder. Hunching forward, the pain in your chest was building and building as you loudly gasp.

“Nooooooooo!” You wail loudly. You find yourself pumping your legs towards somewhere, anywhere. An escape.

The door.

You swallow back bile as you push your front door open with your shoulder, you awkwardly stumble down the front steps, and the cool midsummer air caresses your face as your feet hit the paved driveway. You gasp again, gripping at your chest, and then you scream.

You didn’t know you could make a sound like that. A sound that was full of pain, full of anger, full of a feeling of invisible hands squeezing your heart until it bursts in your chest. Your scream echoes through the quiet neighborhood; you inhale another shaky breath, nails clawing at your stomach as you wail again.

A dog barks in the distance, a porch light turns on, then another. You swear you just heard someone say your name. You lift your head to the sky; the stars were so visible and beautiful that night, looking like small freckles kissing the dark sky. Your legs tremble beneath you, they’re numb, and you feel them start to buckle-

Strong arms grab you from behind, wrapping protectively around your middle; hot breath hits the back of your neck. Cool metal from ringed fingers touches your skin, hugging your arms to your chest as you let out another heartbreaking wail.

“It’s me, it’s me, sweetheart."

Eddie. Your best friend since you moved to this shitty town ten years ago. Your sweet, chaotic, beautiful Eddie. Your legs finally give out and he gently cradles your back against his chest, resting his forehead against your bare shoulders, feeling the roughness of hard pavement as your bum hits the ground. Your head leans back against his shoulder, his curly hair tickling your cheek ever so softly.

“H-how…” You try to form words; they were caught in your throat; you weren’t even sure if you had a voice anymore.

You wanted to ask how he got to you so fast, and if he could hear you all the way from his trailer a mile away. You’re practically sitting in his lap; his calloused fingers gently smooth out your mess of waves in your hair. Your vision blurred with hot tears as you could feel the Earth shattering beneath you. His hands find your face, his fingers cup behind your ear as he turns your face to his gently. Only the soft light from the front porch light illuminated his handsome features. Eddie. Your Eddie. His big brown eyes are wide as he stares at you, he looks terrified. He has never seen you this way before. You called him a few hours ago in the afternoon to tell him your mom had to go to the hospital for an emergency surgery, that you had to stay home to wait by the phone for updates from your father and you would promise to call him when you knew more. You were supposed to go to his place to smoke some weed and order pizza, a traditional Thursday night thing for you both. You figured he probably wondered what was taking so long, it had been hours. And for as long as you have known Eddie Munson, he didn’t have much patience; it was hard for him to sit still. Your fingers twirl the ends of his hair as you try to focus on him.

“Tell me.” He says quietly.

You can already see tears forming in his eyes, and you suddenly realize this is the closest you’ve ever been to him. Your noses were almost touching. You squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head from side to side, spitting and blubbering out more tears as the pain tightens its grip on your heart once more.

“I can’t.” You manage to gasp out. “Don’t…Eds, don’t make me say it.”

His hand cups over his mouth as he stares at you, realization settling on his face.

“No…” He inhales sharply. “No, Y/N…there’s no way.”

A memory flashes in your mind just then, a memory from only a few months ago.

You sat on the counter in the kitchen with your mom and Eddie as she made dinner. She was making his favorite chicken parmesan because it had been the five-year anniversary since he was no longer a suspect of those murders that had occurred that Spring. Your parents never believed he had anything to do with it, and it was your mother standing up for him at the town meeting that really helped his case, partially because the entire town was afraid of a hard-headed strong woman who grew up in South Boston, Massachusetts and also there was no evidence at any of the scenes of his involvement, or that he was a Satan worshipper. The other kicker was that Jason had disappeared, and everyone just assumed he did it after that. However, it didn’t stop the town from calling the cops every time they saw him walking somewhere or blasting Metallica from his speakers in his trailer. When your mom had her back turned, he attempted to stick his finger in the boiling pot of homemade meat sauce. Your mother wasn’t stupid, you swore she had eyes on the back of her head. She poked him in the side with the ladle handle, causing him to yelp.

“Come on! Just one taste! I promise I won’t ask for anymore until it’s ready. I’m STARVING.” Eddie pleaded, giving her a pathetic puppy dog look.

“Kid, get out of my kitchen. I’m not falling for that look again, I got stuck with you for ten years!” Your mother chuckles, stirring the sauce.

“You got stuck with a very handsome, talented, super funny son you always wanted! Did I mention handsome?” He towers over her and had sweetly rested his head on her shoulder, giving her a goofy grin. Your mother used the palm of her hand to push his face away and laughs.

“It’s my caring daughter’s fault for LITERALLY dragging you out of the mud that summer.”

Eddie looks at you, his smile reaching his eyes. “Yeah, your daughter is pretty awesome.”

He winks at you, and you roll your eyes, trying to hide the heat rising to your cheeks.

“Don’t kiss my ass, Munson.” Your mom laughs. “I’m sending you home a plate for your uncle, and you better give it to him this time!"

“He politely declined!”

“No he didn’t, you ate it on the way there!” You banter back at him. He whips his head around to look at you, his face falling in mock betrayal.

“You are not my best friend anymore!” He wraps an arm around your mom’s shoulders and kisses the top of her head. “She’s my best friend now!”

You roll your eyes and laugh, hopping off the counter and making your way back to your room, but not before hearing your mother say this to Eddie:

"Everyone is out of their damn mind for not getting to know you or love you like we do. Jokes aside, honey, I can never ever replace your own mother, but I will make damn sure that you know that you can always come to me for anything.”

“Awww, Mrs. Y/L/N. Don’t make me blush-ow!” He laughs, you’re guessing she pinched him.

“I’m serious, Munson.”

“I know, I know.” You can hear the smile in his tone. “Thank you. Thank you for everything.”

You stare him now; he’s trying so hard not to cry.

“Fuck.” His voice shakes and he pulls you into his arms for a hug.“Fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry.”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of his Motley Crue t-shirt. Your mouth muffled by his shoulder.

“I’m sorry too.” You whimper. He hugs you tighter, and you can’t help but completely melt into his arms.

Your father had left the house the same night. Your mom’s brother lived an hour away, who was completely beside himself over the loss of his little sister. You could see that your father was exhausted, that he was tired of making fall calls and answering the phone. You could tell he wanted to go see his brother-in-law. He was already talking about arrangements, and you pretty much forced him to go see your uncle, that the arrangements could wait and that everyone needed to clear their head because she had just died. You assured him that Eddie didn’t plan on going anywhere and that she wasn’t going to be alone, that Wayne was aware of what had happened and knew where he was.

You sat on the floor of your living room an hour after your father had left. The rotary phone was at your hip, the receiver at your ear before you slammed it down and yanked the cord from the wall. You were over the phone calls too. The cops were called, apparently a neighbor had saw Eddie “lurking” around your house and assumed that was the cause of your screaming. You were too pissed, too grief stricken, too exhausted to bite your tongue. You had snapped at Office Hopper, but as always, he handled your snapping as graciously as he always did.

“Who was it?” You snapped. “Mrs. Hansen, right? That bitch always had a problem with us because my mother was so outspoken. She could never say shit to her face but would say it to our other neighbors. Well, guess what Kathy! SHE’S DEAD NOW!” You scream out your front door, Eddie’s hands were on your shoulders, gently pulling you back in the doorway.

“Easy, easy.” He mutters in your ear.

“Y/N. There’s no need to yell, I’m so incredibly sorry for your loss, but when we get a call that is concerning like that, we have—"

“Why is he still being targeted as the town freak? He has done nothing wrong, ever! We’re not in school anymore, we’re practically grown-ups. We work, we play nerdy games, and we listen to music. Come on, Hop. You know she didn’t call over concern for me. She hates me.”

Hopper sighs, taking off his hat. “You have to be respectful to your neighbors. You know this. Especially…” He lowers his voice and leans closer to you. “Especially the ones who call when a cat shits on their lawn.”

A smile tugs at your lips, and your face softens.

“Get some rest kid. Let us know if you need anything.” He glances at Eddie. “Take care of her, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I know Hop. Thanks.” He says softly.

You shut the door quietly and lock it. You glance at the clock, not believing it was after midnight. You comb your fingers through your knotted hair.

“I’m going to wash up. I need to scrub this fucking night off me.”

He nods at you, and you gently squeeze his hand as you walk by him into the bathroom. Eddie watches as you walk away, his breath hitching as soon as you close the bathroom door. He runs his hands through his hair and shudders. Eddie was usually pretty good with his words, most of the time he could never stop talking, but tonight, he had none. He had no idea how to comfort you, he had no idea what to say, or what to do. He loved your mother. That woman took him in like her own with no questions asked and it got to a point where Wayne would offer her money, which she would always refuse. She was the only one besides Wayne to defend him after the murders and all the bullshit with Hellfire. You had told him that Hopper had to practically restrain her from punching one of the mechanics who wanted to go on a witch hunt to find you; you told him you had never seen Hopper so scared for another human being. Eddie has tears form in his eyes and he quickly swallows them back, groaning quietly from the stinging and aching in his chest. Your mother treated him like a son, and he knows he would never feel that again and that hurt. It also hurt that Eddie had never told her how he felt about you, how for so many years he would be brave enough to pull her aside and say something but would pussy out last minute. Eddie wanted your mother’s approval. It had been like that for ten years. Yeah, he slept around, wasn’t a virgin by any means, but none of them ever stuck. All those girls, those women, he always wished it was you. He loved you; he loved you so much, but now, he wasn’t sure if he could ever tell you.

You peel off your clothes after you begin filling the bath, you stare at yourself in the mirror. You look like you aged fifteen years in a few hours. Blood shot eyes, hair a wild mess, cheeks crimson from all the screaming and tears. You sigh as you step into the bath, the water hot and you wince as you feel every muscle unclench as you slide into the porcelain, until just your head is exposed above the water. You stare up at the tile on the ceiling, marking each corner that had cobwebs that you made a mental note to clean. You close your eyes, inhaling a breath as you sink your whole face under the water. The sounds are muffled, the sound of the faucet still filling the tub vibrates around you. You wonder what it felt like, what she felt. Did her heart stop first? Or her brain? Did she know she was going to die? You open your eyes underwater, your chest clenches again and you stop holding your breath. Your mother’s lifeless face flashes in your mind and you gasp in water, quickly lifting yourself up, knocking over the shampoo bottles. You sputter and cough out the water you had just inhaled. Tears spring to your eyes and you begin to sob and suddenly felt so, so alone.

“Eddie.” You groan out, but your voice felt small. “Eddie!” You call again, the tears still spilling.

You hear a shuffling of footsteps outside the bathroom door, and a soft knock. “Are you alright in there?”

You had forgotten you were naked and submerged in water as you lean forward to turn the faucet off. You felt insanely vulnerable, but you needed to clean yourself up. You just didn’t want to be alone. You bring your knees up to your chest, resting your cheek on your knee, doing your best to cover your breasts and torso. The lower half of your body was hidden by the soap bubbles.

“You can come in.” You tell him meekly, wiping away the hot tears.

You knew he hesitated, it took him a few moments to respond. “Are-are you sure?”

“Yes, I just need…I just need someone in here with me.”

The latch on the door clicks open, and he slowly pushes it open with his toe. His eyes were already averted to the ceiling as he walked in, trying his best to be respectful.

“You can look at me, Eddie. It’s okay.” Wow, you thought to yourself, you were feeling brave.

A blush rises to his cheeks, and he meets your eyes, breathing a sigh of relief when he could only see your bare shoulders, legs and back. He sits on the floor next to the bathtub, leaning his back against the wall and looks at the side of your face.

“Talk to me.” He says sweetly, resting his chin against the lip of the porcelain.

He watches you make the washcloth swim back and forth in front of you, and he gently leans towards your hands, taking the cloth from you. He waits for you to say something, but you don’t. He takes the small bottle of body wash and squirts a glob of it on the cloth, gently massaging it into the fabric. Your heart was racing, and you hear him inhale a shaky breath. He kneels up a little, the warm washcloth hits your skin so gently as he carefully traces circles around your shoulders. You shudder, a warmness settling in your tummy.

“What am I gonna do?” You say quietly, tears burn your eyes again and you groan, you were tired of the tears.

Eddie swallows hard, gently moving a piece of your hair back to wash your neck. This felt foreign to you, this semi-erotic moment of him touching you like this, so sweetly, so gently. Your Eddie.

“I don’t know.” He says to you. “I wish I did, but I don’t.”

You lift your head to look at him, seeing a blush creeping up as the hills of your breasts are exposed. You watch him as he concentrates on your back, gently moving the cloth up your neck, your eyes flutter close. He dips the washcloth in the water and squeezes out the excess, pausing before moving his way towards your lower back.

“You know whatever you need, I’m here. Okay?” He tells you and you nod. He gently wipes away an exposed tear from your cheek. “You’re kind of stuck with me at this point.”

Your face scrunches up in mock annoyance and he laughs, you chuckle. “Yeah, I know. Thank you.”

He's looking into your eyes now and your eyes dart to his lips, before looking back into his eyes. He quickly glances away to finish washing your back and you turn your body towards him so suddenly, water splashes up and he drops the washcloth. You don’t know where this feeling came from, how you just wanted to continue to be touched by him, be loved by him. Was it the grief? You weren’t sure, but you sure as hell wanted to feel something else besides the fucking horrendous pain. Your hands are on his shoulders, the wetness from you dampened the ends of his hair as he stared at you with wide eyes.

“What are you doing?” He whispers, his hands reaching up to cup your wrists.

You could tell he didn’t want to overstep, and he kept his eyes just on you, your eyes. He was a gentleman in all the right ways; but he desperately wanted to look at your body. You were fully exposed to him besides your lower half, and he had dreamt of a moment like this. Your hands touch his cheeks, your nose barely grazes his.

“Kiss me, please?” You say quietly, and his breath hitches.

His hand cups the back of your wet hair, pulling you towards him slightly as your breathing picks up. You could feel him tremble as you lean closer, your breasts pressing against the coolness from the porcelain, your nipples hardening at the contact. You push your mouth onto his, his plush lips as soft as you imagined they would be. He uses his other hand to cup your neck, you opened his mouth with yours, feeling his tongue enter your mouth so carefully. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing your best friend. You were kissing Eddie. Your Eddie.

You wrap both arms around his shoulders, and his hands wraps around your middle. He was getting comfortable, years and years of his love for you was spilling out in this exact moment. You feel him lift you so easily out of the tub, awkwardly stumbling into the wall. Not realizing how strong he was, he grabs your ass, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. You could feel his clothes soaking from the contact of your wet skin and could feel the wetness that pooled between your legs as he kept kissing you, blindly searching for the handle of the door. The cool air from the living room air conditioner hits your bare skin, causing gooseflesh to prickle all over you. You push your body against his more, deepening the kiss and he groans, bumping into everything you both contacted. Pictures became crooked on the walls, you heard something tip over from a few of the shelves, and you finally make it to your bedroom door. Your back hits it a little roughly, and he pulls away from you to catch his breath before pressing his mouth to yours again and he finds the doorknob with one hand as the other continues to hold you up. You both fall to your bed with an oomph, you start laughing hard because your head had clunked against the headboard, and he looks at you with wide eyes.

“Shit.” He breathes out, pulling away from your lips and laughs. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

You smile at him and nod, your lips pulsating from the kissing. He smiles down at you, rubbing your cheek, your hair, his hand gently smooths its way down your bare arms, towards your hips. He’s still looking at you, wanting to make sure it was okay for him to really see you before going further. You rub his cheek, and he leans into it, gently kissing your palm as he hovers above you. He was still trembling, and you take his hand, placing it on your skin below your breast. His calloused fingers squeeze the spot gently, his fingers barely grazing the underside of it as you watch his throat bob. He leans towards you and kisses your lips gently, leaning back on his heels as his eyes dart over your body. You bend your knees ever so slightly; he places his hands on your knees and kneels between your legs. He lets out a sigh and smiles sweetly at you and pulls off his shirt. His fingers trace a soft line over your ribs, he makes circles over your navel, the soft skin at your hips.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers to you, he chuckles awkwardly. “I mean, you’ve always been beautiful to me, not that just your body is beautiful. Your face is beautiful too, and your heart. All of you, everything—”

“Eddie, take a deep breath.” You smile, moving your palm up his torso and cupping his cheek.

He laughs, inhaling deeply, and places both hands on the side of your head as he leans down, your legs wrap around his jeans, feeling his eager bulge through the zipper. He kisses you softly, pulling away to look into your eyes. You could see tears form at the corners of eyes and you hold his face in your hand.

“What? What is it?”

He sighs, leaning up on his elbow. “For so many years, I wanted to tell your mom something that had been eating at me.” He groans, a single tear falls down his cheek and you wipe it away. “I wanted to tell her how insanely in love with you I was…I am.”

Your eyes widen at his confession, your heart does a back flip, and you feel your own tears prickle your eyes.

“I know it doesn’t mean much now, because she’s gone…fuck.” More tears spill from his eyes, you wipe them away, he holds your hand to his cheek. “I loved her. I loved her so much and she became a mother to me at a time when I really needed her, and she always told me I could tell her anything. I should’ve told her how I felt about you sooner, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Your heart broke for him. You knew how much he really did love your mom. Their relationship was for sure that of a mother and son. He had called her one night from the Hideout in the middle of the night because he got into a fight with a stupid townie and she’d bring him back to your house, cleaning up his wounds and comforting him. One night he had fallen asleep on your couch from a night of too much drinking, and she tucked him in, placing a large cooking pot next to him in case he had to puke. She would do so many motherly things for him that he wasn’t used to, and once he was finally comfortable enough to accept those gestures, he felt like a little boy again. You bite your bottom lip to stop it from trembling and you give him a smile.

“I think she knew.” You curl your fingers through his hair.

“How?” He asks you.

“I never really thought much about it at the time, but she would throw subtle ‘son in law’ jokes at me and I would just ignore her. Because you were my best friend, there was no way you’d feel any other way than that. Or so I thought.”

You trace an outline on his lips with your finger. “You love me?”

He nods, not bothering to wipe another stray tear away. “More than you know.”

“I love you, too.” You tell him softly and he smiles.

“Yeah? You sure?”

You roll your eyes, tugging a piece of his hair and he yelps. “Don’t make me take it back.”

He laughs, caressing your face with the back of his hand, smoothing out your wet hair. He leans down, kissing you softly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him onto you, he lets out a hot breath as you push your tongue in his mouth. His hands travel down the dip in your shoulder, down the middle of your chest and stops on the curve of your breast. You feel the coolness of his metal ring against your skin, your nipple hardens, and you gasp in his mouth when you feel his fingers gently pinch the hardened bud. His mouth finds your throat, leaving kissing trails down to your shoulders, still pinching and squeezing your breasts as you squirm beneath him. His mouth takes your nipple in his mouth, and you hear him softly moan as he gently bites down. His tongue swirls around the bud and sucks, and you arch your back. His hand travels down your navel and over your sex. You whimper when you feel his fingers spread your lips apart and he runs a finger over your clit. He pulls away from your breast and kisses you hungrily, his fingers tracing circles around your clit, pushing down and he smirks against your lips when you let out a loud moan. No one has ever taken their time with you; you have only had sex with two men in your life and it was always you finishing them off first and them being “too tired” to return the favor. Eddie knew what he was doing, you knew this wasn’t his first rodeo, and you desperately wanted to know what else he could do. He pulls away from your lips, licking and kissing a trail all the way down to your navel. He leans back on his heels, and your eyes widen at the outline of his hardened cock beneath his jeans. He places his fingers in his mouth, sucking off the taste of you and you squirm at how sexy he looked. You bend your knees and open your legs wider.

“Damn.” He mutters, scooting back to lay in front of your dripping cunt. He wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you closer to his face. “You really are beautiful.”

He kisses your clit gently, you arch your back, gripping at the sheets beneath you. His tongue swirls around the sensitive nerves, and he sucks on it, letting out a loud groan. It vibrated your entire body, and you moan. His fingers press into the meat of your thighs as he buries his face closer, his tongue lapping at your hole as you could already feel yourself about to burst. You grip his hair, tugging on it hard, which sends him into a frenzy, and you feel two fingers slide their way into you.

“Eddie…”

You moan his name, and he begins to pump those fingers into you, pressing against the sponginess of your g-spot. He continues to devour your clit and you lean up on your elbows to watch him. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you couldn’t believe that your best friend of ten years was doing these things to you. Your Eddie. He pulls away from your clit, feeling you clench around his fingers, and he slinks his way back up your body, his chin wet and dripping of you. He kisses you passionately, you moan at the taste of yourself, and he continues pumping his fingers in and out. His thumb finds your clit and rubs circles, you hold onto his shoulders as he kisses you, feeling yourself close to release. He pulls away from your lips for a moment.

“Come on, baby. I know you can cum for me.” His voice was lower, almost deeper.

Those words almost sent you over the edge, words you never in a million years thought would come out of his mouth. He pumps harder and groans as your hand finds his cock through his jeans and you rub your hand over the material. You dig your nails into his shoulders, and he lets out a hot breath against your neck, whimpering at the sheer intensity and passion.

“Fuck, Eddie…”

You moan out in pleasure and he groans against your neck. You feel the pressure building and building in your lower belly and you cling onto him as your orgasm rips through you and you cry out. He keeps his fingers inside of you, riding the orgasm out with you, the overstimulation was insanely uncomfy but as he kept pumping into you, you eased into another hard orgasm and your body shook beneath him. He slides his fingers out of you, you catch your breath as you continue to cling onto him. His hands grip your hip, and he looks at you, a smile creeping on his lips. You sigh, crashing your lips against his, unbuttoning his jeans hurriedly and sliding them off. His lips graze against your ear lobe and you roll him onto his back with your legs and he giggles. You laugh, kissing his lips, his neck and you lean up on your heels. His hands hold onto your hips. The length of him was almost intimidating, you bite your bottom lip and take him in your hands, gently moving your fist up and down. He lets out a deep groan and his eyes squeeze shut, arching his back. You rub his precum over his tip and he shivers, you move your head towards his cock and glance up at him. He looks at you with half lidded eyes and you lick a long strip from the base all the way to the tip, taking him into your mouth.

“Oh…oh my, unghhh—”

A loud, throaty moan escapes him, surprising you both and you both laugh. He covers his face with both his hands shyly, slightly embarrassed by the sound he just made. You kiss his tip, licking down his shaft and he whimpers. He grips the back of your head as you bob up and down, taking him all in, rubbing his balls to get him to squirm. He let out a low growl, a sound so animalistic and sexy you couldn’t believe you were the cause. He wanted to feel you, he wanted to be inside you and couldn’t wait any longer. He pulls at your hair, lifting your head up, your lips were swollen and wet with spit.

“Come here.” He says breathlessly. “Now.”

You crawl up to him, his lips catch yours in a passionate kiss. You were trembling now as you lined yourself up with his length. He cups the back of your head, sweetly pecking your lips as his other hand grips at your hips. You keep your face close to his, your lips barely touching as you lower yourself onto his cock. He squeezes your hips, throwing his head back into the pillow and lets out a throaty groan. You whimper as you take him all in, slowly rocking your hips to get used to the size of him as he stretches you out.

“Are you okay?” He whispers to you, lifting his arm up to cup your cheek.

You nod, pleasure was building in your belly as you grind against him, your clit rubs generously on his pelvis. You look into his eyes, running your hand up his chest, over his tattoos, tracing his lips with your fingers. You insert two fingers into his mouth, which he takes willingly and sucks. You move your hips up and then down, hard. His moan vibrates on your fingers as you rock faster against him; you remove your fingers and begin playing with yourself with that same hand as he watches you in awe. He arches his hips into you, and you cry out, your head falling back, he caresses and pinches your nipples. You lean forward, using the headboard as support to continue your movement. His tongue traces circles around your nipple, sucking hard and squeezing both with his hands. He moves onto the next one, you moan louder into his ear, and he grabs your ass, burying his cock deeper into you.

In one swift motion, he flips you on your back. His eyes stare into your soul, and you kiss him. He kisses you back with the same hungriness from earlier, taking your leg and moving it onto his shoulder as he thrusts into you. An insanely pornographic sound escapes your lungs, and he smiles against your lips. He leans up slightly to stare at your face, you were biting your bottom lip, and your eyes burn into him, and he could feel his heart growing bigger and bigger for you in that moment. You grab his perfect ass with your legs to push him further into you and he arches back; your lips go to his throat, gently nibbling on it and licking all over. Your orgasm was building in your belly, and by the way he was slowing down and getting a little clumsy, he was close too.

You pull his face towards you by the back of his head. “Fuck me.” You tell him through gritted teeth.

His beautiful brown eyes dilate, and you see the pure lust take over in his stare. He leans back on his heels, pulling himself out of you and you frown, he pulls you towards him hard by your thighs, his fingers for sure going to leave lovely bruises. But you didn’t care. Before you could make another comment, he slams his cock into you, and you scream out. He holds onto your hips, rolling his against yours at a hard pace, you swear you could see all the fucking colors of the rainbow.

“Fuuuuck…” He moans out. “Oh fuck-I’m gonna—”

“Don’t stop, Eddie.” You whimper, his cock slamming into your g-spot over and over was making you forget your name.

You move your hands down and find your clit, rubbing vigorously against it as your cunt clenches against his cock. He watches you rub yourself, a smile toys on his lips as he stares in wonder at you, he felt as if he was fucking a goddess.

“Oh god…”

“Cum with me, baby. I want to feel you.”

He groans loud, and that was enough to send you screaming, and crying out his name as you came all over his cock. You grip the sheets under you, still cumming hard and he slams faster into you, the bed squeaks and the headboard bangs into the wall and he sputters.

“Oh…my…unnngh.”

He slams into you once more, you could feel the warmness settle in your cunt as he came inside you, feeling his cock twitching as he slowed his pace and cried out, collapsing onto your chest. He rolls his hips against you and shudders. The two of you lay there in a pile of limbs, heavy breathing, and sweat. He lifts his head up to look at you, smoothing out your still wet hair, and presses his lips to yours. Your tongue goes into his mouth, and he moans softly, cupping the back of your head, deepening the kiss. He slides out of you gently, and pulls away from you, laying on his back. His hand rested on your thigh, and you could feel him dripping from you; you needed a minute. Or several.

“Well,” he says breathlessly. “I’ve never done that with you before.”

You weakly slap his chest and laugh loudly; tears prickle your eyes as you feel another laugh roll out until you’re full-blown cackling. He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you laugh harder. He shakes his head, laughing with you, turning onto his side to rub your tummy gently. Your laugh was one of the things he loved about you because it was so contagious, and that this was the first time today he could see pure happiness on your face.

“I’m sorry.” You manage to say, your laugh still rolling out of you. “I don’t know why I’m laughing so hard. Oh wait, I do, you’re a fucking idiot and I love you.”

He laughs, kissing your cheek. “No going back now.”

“No.” You say, catching your breath, bringing your palm up to his cheek. “Never.”

He kisses your lips, your cheeks, your neck and leans up on his elbows. “My clothes are soaked.”

“I’ll put them in the wash.” You kiss his nose, slowly sitting up in bed, you could already feel the soreness between your legs. “I’m pretty sure my mom folded a bunch of your clothes you left here the other day.” You pause and turn to look at him.

“Of course she did.” He says with a sweet smile, tracing your spine with the tip of his finger. “Do you want me to go get them?”

You knew he only asked because the washer and dryer were in her little den with her vanity mirror.

“Uh, no. It’s okay.” You give him a smile. You go into your dresser, pulling out underwear and your oversized Queen tour t-shirt you got in 1987. Your mom had bought the tickets for you and Eddie; Eddie was indeed a total metal head, but he had a soft spot for Queen, probably because you loved them so much. You throw on the clothes and turn when you feel his eyes on you.

“What?” You ask, a blush creeping up on your cheeks as you stare at his naked body.

His right arm, which was covered in a full tattoo sleeve, was bent behind his head as he looks at you.

“Nothing.” He smiles sweetly. “I’m just trying to wrap my head around this. Around us.”

You lean over to him to kiss him, he holds your head,, leaving lots of pecks around your cheeks and lips, causing you to giggle. You pull away, turning around to grab his mess of clothes on the floor, throwing his dry boxers to him. He takes this opportunity to smack your ass and you yelp. You narrow your eyes at him, and pull out his chain wallet, snapping it open, pulling out some cash, you could only make out a few ten-and one-dollar bills.

“I’m taking this.” You tell him, shoving the bills into your underwear.

“Pretty cheap date, don’t ya think?” He laughs, pulling his boxers over his hips as your face falls into mock shock, you pull out the cash and throw it at his face, causing him to laugh harder.

You shake your head, leaving the room, heading towards your mother’s den. You slow your walking down as you meet the closed door. The grief starts to creep up again, your hand trembles as you reach for the doorknob. You twist the knob and push it open. An aroma of peach, rose and slight Sandalwood hit your nostrils and you have to hold onto the wall for support, blindly finding the light switch. The light is bright, and you squint, your eyes already filling with tears as the scent of your mother was everywhere in this room. Her vanity sat perched against the wall, the wood was a soft amber color. She had rebuilt this vanity after getting it from a garage sale a few years ago. You gently run your hand over the fabric of her sweater that hung behind the chair she always sat at; whether to do her make up, or randomly sketch some drawings in her sketch book. You pull your hand away as if burned, and you quickly go to the washing machine, tossing Eddie’s clothes in as well as some dirty ones that were in the basket. You see his folded clothes on top of the dryer, your heart hurt with how right you were and how she would never fold his clothes again. You groan, looking over the clothes, sniffling. You take out his Metallica tour t-shirt, and his black jeans. You exit her room after shutting off the light and quietly shut the door. Eddie was strumming at your acoustic as you walk back in, smiling at you at you hand him the clothes. He sees the tears in your eyes and immediately puts the guitar back on the stand.

He takes your hand, “What happened?”

You shake your head, trying to smile. “Nothing…it’s nothing. I’m okay. Can we go to bed?”

He looks you over once with concern and nods, gently kissing the top of your hand. You crawl into bed, leaning over him to turn off the light on your nightstand. You curl up next to him, burying your face in his chest. He wraps his arms around you, pulling the blanket over the both of you. You feel his lips kiss your hair and you sigh. All the sadness, all the grief had fallen away as he held you and you wished you could stay like that forever.

As if the universe was working against you, you woke up screaming. You were covered in sweat and tears pooled from your eyes as a panic attack settled deep in your chest. You sat up, leaning against the headboard, bringing your knees up to your chest as you scream out a sob. Eddie had woken up immediately, feeling you thrash around before you woke up. Dawn was approaching, and he flicks the light on. He kneels in front of you, placing both of his hands on the side of your head.

“Hey, hey, look at me, I’m right here.”

The dream you had replays over and over in your head like a broken record. You let out a painful groan, holding onto your stomach as you to try to speak and to calm your breathing before you hyperventilated.

“She…she was right there. Right in front me.” You tell him, your voice choking with sobs. “Right there! She was so close to me and I tried to reach for her hand but she kept moving away from me, and I ran to her. I ran so fast, but she just kept going further and further away until I couldn’t see her. And then she was gone. She was gone.”

You cry, hard, and he takes you in his arms, hugging you as you wept. You wail and he tightens his hold on you, gently rocking you as you gripped onto his arms.

“I’m not ready for this.”

“I know.” His voice trembles, smoothing out your hair. “You don’t have to be ready for something like this.”

“Why did she leave me?” You whimper, your entire body shakes.

“Why was she taken away from us!? Oh god…”

He kisses your head, your cheek, finds your lips and kisses them softly.

“Please don’t leave me.” You choke out. “Please.”

“I’m not going anywhere, baby. I promise you.”

“Don’t leave me.” You cry, holding onto him for dear life. He rocks you and you cry. You weren’t ready for the coming days, you weren’t ready to keep feeling this sorrow phone call after phone call, hug after hug, tear after tear. You weren’t ready for today. You weren’t ready for tomorrow. You weren’t ready. You weren't ready.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fluff #Eddie Munson x smut #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x female reader

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bellarkeselection · 4 months

Note

as a chandler ask!

maybe something like in the show with rachel and ross where they were watching the tapes and found out the ross liked rachel but with chandler and fem! reader??

The Video Tape Confession

Everybody was sitting around the apartment watching tv while it was raining heavily outside meaning nobody felt like doing anything. I was sitting in the middle of the couch with Phoebe and Chandler on either side of me. Rachel was sitting on the floor rummaging around in one of the cabinets underneath the tv. “Hey what’s this tape?”

“Huh I’m not sure. Let’s play it and see.” Monica replied taking the tape from her putting it inside the video player on the tv.

The video starts playing on the screen showing me, Rachel and Monica sitting in Monica’s bedroom with her parents recording whatever we were doing. I didn’t really remember the night until Rachel bounced on the bed. “So Y/n do you have any guys your interested in. Prom is only a few weeks away.”

“Oh I don’t have anyone in mind.” I shrugged my shoulders on the tape.

Monica tilled her head. “Hang on your lying. You avoid eye contact and bite your lip when you do.”

“I do not!” I snapped back at her.

She pushed me almost off the bed and onto the floor. “Just tell us. We won’t tell anybody.”

“Okay we’ll there is this one guy but he’s in college. So I doubt he and I would be able to end up together.” Myself on the camera said while I flipped back on the bed covering my face with my hands.

Joey who was sitting in the armchair asked. “Who was the guy?”

“Ross, didn’t say you needed help moving some stuff in your apartment. I can help with that.” I changed the subject getting up to my feet with Ross standing in the kitchen grabbing a snack.

Phebe gasped pointing her index finger. “She’s avoiding the video now. She’s embarrassed of who’s name she said is on the tape.”

“Now we have to watch it.” Chandler declared clapsing his hands together in his lap.

Running my fingers through my hair I watched the video in honor not wanting anyone especially a certain person to know. Chandler focused his attention on the tv while my face turned red hearing the words come out on the recording. “What’s the guys name?”

“His name is Chandler, Chandler Bing.” I answered Monica’s question nervously.

Everybody turned their heads in shock and awe after hearing the words. I sunk down into the couch covering my red face with my hands groaning in embarrassment. “How didn’t we remember this?” Rachel gasped.

“Chandler did you have any idea?” Ross asked taking a bite out of his sandwich suprised that he didn’t have any idea about this.

Chandler slowly turned around on the couch chuckling nervously. “I had no idea I am just a guy despite for love but I will most likely die alone.”

“I’m gonna go.” I bolted up to my feet so ready to just by myself for the rest of the evening. I couldn’t face the possibility of hearing him say he didn’t feel the same way. Honestly I can’t believe that tape even still exists. I thought Monica and Ross’s parents has gotten rid of it.

Chandler bolted to his feet. “Y/n, wait.”

“What is it, Chandler. I really don’t want to hear that you don’t feel-“ He cut me off quickly cupping my face in his hands and crashing his lips down onto mine since I was shorter than he was.

My hands froze on his chest for a moment. I couldn’t believe it but it was too hard to resist. Throwing my arms around his neck I pressed myself further against him. “I would have told you how I felt sooner if I knew you felt the same.” He admitted making me chuckle.

“See everybody finds their partner with these videos.” Phebe grinned brightly.

Comments really appreciated ❤️ Tags @lover-of-books-and-tea @rosie-posie08

#chandler bing forever #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #chandler bing imagine #chandler bing icons #mathew perry #friends series #friends show #friends x reader #friends sitcom #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

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hayleythesugarbowl · 5 months

Note

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

chandler bing x reader headcanons

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

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

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

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 🤍

#chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #chandler bing headcanons #f•r•i•e•n•d•s #friends headcanons #friends imagines #fanfiction #fanfic #reader insert #x reader #headcanon #matthew perry

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kyberblade · 7 months

Text

Give It To Me In Basic (Din x Reader)

A/N: This is just something that the premise came to mind when I listened to a song and I couldn’t let it sit. I wrote it in practically one sitting and just saw where it went - it was basically an exercise to stretch my writing muscles after a while away, and it felt really good! It’s incredibly sappy and domestic and I hope you like it. 🥹 (Not a part of my other series, this is an entirely new Din x Reader to me. Hi. Hello.) I also wanted to try writing in “she/her” instead of “you”, but this is still definitely an entirely blank reader insert. No physical descriptions are used. No mention of Y/N.

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Summary: Din finds softness after a life of rigidity, and he’s not willing to let it go. (*Chandler Bing voice* Could I have been more vague?)

Warnings: Fluff? Like tooth rotting amounts of fluff and domesticity. Din being a sap. Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Swearing. Mentions of typical show violence. Mando’a. Swearing. Mentions of pregnancy at the end. Some spoilers if you squint? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) (No but like really, it follows the plot of season 2 and TBoBF, so mentions of that briefly, if you don’t want that spoiled, don’t read.) Helmetless Din. What? Who said that? 👀😬 Again: No mention of Y/N. (In fact this is written as “she/her” instead of “you”, but is an entirely blank reader insert.)

Word count: 1,206 (I know. I am as shocked as you are at how brief this is.)

Thanks to @fordo-kixed-rex for reading over this and sending me a caps locked series of texts as a response. And to @what-the-heckin-heck and @littlemisspascal for telling me it’s not too fluffy/sappy/much.

Masterlist

Xxx

There was a softness Din had come to know, grown familiar with, and let it entangle with his life like a well kept plant on someone’s warm windowsill.

It had snuck up on him when he’d least expected it. Not in the middle of a battle, or on some backwater planet, but in the quiet moments in between.

It had a heart unlike anything he’d ever seen. Something vibrant and larger than life, that welcomed him and his son with open arms and without a second glance.

The heart was worn on the sleeve of a woman, who by every standard was normal, nothing brilliant or captivating, but to Din she was everything. He couldn’t look away whenever she was nearby, her beauty both inside and out something that pulled him in with a force he didn’t understand.

Her touch sent shockwaves across his skin, the first time she shook his hand making him shudder even through his gloves. As time went on and he found himself lost in a darkened hull of the Crest, the woman at his side as they tangled further up in one another, his breath caught in his chest as her slight hand reached up to cup his cheek.

It wasn’t the touch of a lover, the sensuality of the trace of her fingers that stole from him. It was the closeness. The nearness. Something in the touch felt like home.

And he never felt at home again unless those hands were cradling him in some way, even through his armor. He’d lean into the touch, though he couldn’t feel it through his beskar, he swore he could. This was home. This is what he was trying to come back to.

Her laugh made him laugh. A foreign and buzzing feeling climbing out of his chest. Just the thought of it made him chuckle, shaking his head and telling his contact it was nothing, he was just amazed the bounty was so stupid.

Maybe it was selfish, but he didn’t want to share her with anyone. He’d found a little slice of happiness in this godforsaken galaxy, why did he have to let anyone else know about it?

When he lay on the ground, wind knocked out of him after an enemy had gotten a lucky hit, it wasn’t the sky above he saw, it was her eyes. They sparkled mischievously at him anytime she plotted her next move, often to get him to just relax.

For years he’d seen calculating gazes, sneers, narrowed eyes of distrust and hate. He saw none of these with her. Only peace.

How ironic, he thought, getting back to his feet before causing carnage. To get back to the softness, there must first be all this chaos.

He saw it each time he came home. The light dulled just slightly in her eyes. She loved him just as much, if not more than before, but she longed to tell him while looking into his own eyes. She knew the Creed. She understood. Doesn’t mean it hurt any less. For either of them.

It was a night on the Crest, he woke with a start at the silence. He didn’t hear the child’s snores. Realization sunk in as he remembered the kid was with the Jedi. He was used to the silence as he slept, then he became used to the kids soft sounds, but they’re gone now. But slowly he eased back asleep, his eyes falling slowly shut when he realized she was there, in his arms, breathing deep and sound asleep…. His new familiar. He softly smiled as she started to snore.

Now the child was back in his care, and he was off to Mandalore to restore his honor, become a Mandalorian in the eyes of the Creed once more. His new ship had no room for anyone other than himself and Grogu, so he made arrangements to leave her on Navarro with Karga.

After a private goodbye, where he saw the disappointment she would never voice once again painting her features, he set the ship to ascend up into the atmosphere. Once he was just above the clouds, he made a last minute decision, hailing her on her comm as he made a loop to come back around under the cloud cover.

“Look up,” was all he would say.

But as he made a final pass by, just under the clouds without his helmet, he could see her on the ground, her smile like a beacon for miles around. From this distance the only thing she could really see clearly was his smile, but that was everything.

Her breath stuttered over the comm. “Meh'shab? Me'dinuir…. Ranov'la. Me'dinuir…. Mesh’la.” (“The fuck? To share…. Secret. To give each other…. Beautiful.”)

Din laughed. “Wanna try that again?”

She huffed. “Sorry. Ori'meshla.” (“Very beautiful.”)

Din snorted out a laugh.

She sighed, her words coming out barely above a breath. “Stars, I hope our ad has your smile.” (“Child.”)

Din paused, about to pull up on the controls. “What?”

“Wayii! Did I say that out loud?” She looked up to see Din circling lower and lower. “Don’t you dare land, Din Djarin.” The N1 was getting lower still as she spoke. “I mean it. You have planets to save. People to meet and-” The exhaust of the starfighter sent her hair every which way, her face scrunching up against the gust. “What was I thinking you would do, I don’t know?” The last words were mumbled into Din’s chest plate, his arms pulling her into him as soon as he was back on the ground. (Exclamation of surprise)

“Are you….?” His voice was barely above a whisper, his modulator popping with the lack of sound behind it.

She nodded into his beskar. “Yaihadla.”

“As much as I love you speaking Mando’a, just give it to me in Basic. My brain isn’t working properly right now-”

She tilted her head back to look up into his visor, her voice soft. “I’m pregnant, Din.” Her eyes scanned over his helmet, searching for purchase. “You’re gonna be a dad, Djarin.” Grogu squealed from the cockpit of the N1, pulling her eyes over toward the tiny green ward, and a smile up her face. “Well, again. You’ll be a dad, again.”

Din froze for a moment before reaching up and ripping his helmet off, immediately pulling her into a searing kiss. Her muffled sounds of surprise melted away after just a moment, her arms coming up around his neck to pull him closer still, and causing his lips to pull up into a smile against her own. Finally breaking the kiss, he leaned his forehead against hers, both of them breathing heavily.

“Careful,” she teased, “that’s how we got into this situation in the first place.”

Din just shook his head in amusement at her, chuckling, and never removing his forehead from hers. Looking up through his lashes, he found her already doing the same to him. “Hi,” he muttered quietly.

“Hi,” she replied on a breath, making his smile pull higher still. “Osik,” she continued on a breath, going on when he cocked his head to the side, pulling back just slightly. “I really hope they get your smile.” (“Shit.”)

Xxx

Everything Tags: @lam-ila @oliviajdjarin @peonyophelia @itsavicf @jxvipike @momc95 @babygirlrex0504 @harriedandharassed @burningfieldof-clover @theclassicvinyldragon What’s This?

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soapskneebrace · 9 days

Text

Fun stuff about Fallout: New Vegas for the uninitiated:

There’s one romance option! His name is Fisto. Please assume the position :)

Having your brain removed from your skull is not only survivable, it’s actually, in some cases, better for you.

You can even have a conversation with your own brain! No matter your gender it has a male Bostonian accent and is FURIOUS at you for the multiple severe head wounds you’ve inflicted upon it.

Speaking of head wounds, I lied, there’s actually two romance options. The other character you can sleep with, voiced by Chandler Bing, is the one that shot you in the head at the start of the game. He likes feet stuff, and will leave you the morning after :(

Think Cooper is the first cowboy ghoul Dom in fallout? Think again!

In order to get into New Vegas proper, you have the option to solve a scooby-do mystery for a gang of Elvis impersonators.

You cannot join the gang :(

The boss of this gang has a cyborg dog named Rex. Rex despises rats—and also hats, possibly because it rhymes with rats.

In New Vegas, a robot escort will pay you one thousand dollars for each snow globe you find and bring to her. She calls you sugar. You can compliment her hair.

Everyone wants to fuck the mummy man, don’t worry, you’re normal.

Remember those edits with Danaerys Targaryen and the quote “I survived because the fire inside me burned brighter than the fire around me”? Straight up stolen from this game. Specifically, from the mummy man, who is in fact talking about how his Mormonism kept him from dying when he was set on fire by a Julius Caesar impersonator.

There is a town called Novac that settled in the ruins of a motel. Novac has a gift shop built into a giant statue of a toy dinosaur. At the top of the toy dinosaur you can help a war criminal get revenge for the death of his wife. Then he becomes your bestie :)

One available companion is a floating radio robot named ED-E. He can’t speak but if your intelligence score is high enough you can understand him anyway. He beeps. Exclusively.

Sorry. I lied again. There’s three romance options. The third is a woman who runs big game death matches in the sewers. You win her heart by stealing eggs from wild animals for her breeding program.

You can buy the most powerful weapon in the game from a child playing tag in the slums with what he thinks is a toy gun. It’s the detonator for an orbital nuke.

Don’t know Liam O’Brien’s voice? You will!

In the end, the real villain is capitalism, and you are fully able—ENABLED—to choose anarchy.

#fallout

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skyeet-the-writer · 3 months

Text

The One with George Stephanopoulos

this chapter made me want pizza and alcohol okay bye chandler bing x female!reader summary: its been a few months since you moved to the city and you're settling in pretty well with your new group of friends word count: ~4.5k warnings: mentions of black mold, alcohol, a little snooping, but its harmless fun <previous next>

"What would you guys do if you were omnipotent?" you ask suddenly during a quiet afternoon in the cafe.

"Probably make myself immortal," Monica says, looking up from her crossword. "And be able to time-travel, I've always wanted to do that as a kid."

"Ooh, time travel would be sick," you say. "I'd want to immediately know how to play the bass."

"Oh, that's good, that's good." Rachel smiles, handing you your latte.

"What about you, Phoebe?" you ask the woman sitting on the floor.

"I would want, um, world peace. No more hunger. Good things for the rainforest." She grins before quickly adding, "Oh, and bigger boobs!"

"Well, see, you took mine," Ross says. You giggle, holding your warm mug and leaning back into the couch next to Chandler, who quickly removes his arm from behind the couch. "Chandler, what about you?"

Chandler shrugs. "If I were omnipotent for a day, I'd make myself omnipotent forever."

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Lame."

Rachel also tches. "See, there's always that one guy. 'If I had a wish, I'd wish for three more wishes.'"

You laugh again and turn as the door opens. Joey walks in and you hit him with your burning question. "Joey! Joey, what would you do if you were omnipotent for a day?"

He blinks at your question and answers, "Probably kill myself."

Your eyes widen and you breathe out a laugh. "Sorry?"

"Hey," he starts as he takes a seat beside Ross. "If little Joey's dead, then I've got no reason to live."

You shake your head and take a sip of your drink.

"Uh, Joey." Ross's first mistake was to try and help. "Omnipotent."

Joey's eyes widen and in the most sympathetic voice you've ever heard him use, he says, "You are?"

You choke on your drink, laughing into your mug and almost spilling coffee on yourself. Chandler places a hand on your back while Phoebe hands you a napkin, taking your drink from you. You laugh again, wiping your face, and look at Joey.

"Dude, you're so funny. Do you know that?"

Joey smiles and shrugs. "People say that I am."

You clear your throat and lean back in your seat again. Chandler has an arm across the back of the couch again, but this time he doesn't move it, something everyone but you catches on to.

His arm doesn't move for the next thirty minutes either. Eventually, you notice but think nothing of it. Ross does it with Phoebe and there's certainly nothing there. Your newfound friend group talks about nothing and everything at once as the afternoon grows later. After a while, you glance at your watch and realize you need to head out, even though you don't want to.

With a groan, you sit up. "I've got to head out."

"Why?" Monica wonders.

You sniff and start to get your things together in your tote bag. "My window is leaking in my bathroom and kitchen, so my super is going to check it out. Also, there's this weird substance on my windowsills that looks like dirt, but I swear to god if it's black mold I'm going to kill someone."

"Well, good luck," Chandler says, watching you take out your walkman and put the headphones around your neck.

"I'll be back in an hour or so," you tell them and start your mixtape. "See you guys later."

And then you head out. Chandler watches you through the window--which isn't creepy because it's so big. He watches you take out your lighter and light a cigarette before walking on your way. For someone who moved to the city a few months ago, you already seem very much at home.

The second the door closes, Joey moves to sit by Chandler and says, "Chan. If you don't ask her out, I'm going to."

"Yeah, why haven't you asked her yet?" Monica asks. "With the way your arm was behind her for an hour, someone would assume you guys are dating."

Chandler scoffs and shrugs, feeling his neck heat up. "I--I don't know. I think she's too cool for me."

"She's too cool for all of us," Ross says.

"I think she's into you." Phoebe pokes his leg and smiles. "She's always around you."

"Yeah, because I was the first person she met here and she's my friend."

"So? I think you'd have a shot." Phoebe tells him. "Her aura is brighter around you."

Chandler isn't sure what that means, but he shrugs anyway. "I--I don't know. I really think she's cool, I don't want to mess this friendship up."

His friends nod in understanding but Joey asks, "So, does this mean I can ask her on a date?"

"No!" he blurts out, perhaps too loudly because someone at a neighboring table turns to glare at him for a moment.

"Woah, okay, man." Joey holds his hands up in surrender. "I know now to mess with your girl."

Heat rushes to Chandler's cheeks and he huffs, feeling very uncomfortable. "Whatever."

~*~

An hour and a half later, you return to the coffee shop pissed out of your mind. You angrily open the door and let it slam shut behind you. Monica, Phoebe, and Ross are still here and all look at you when you approach. You're frowning, something they've never seen you do before, and your head looks like it's about to explode.

"Woah, what's up?" Monica asks as you dramatically sit between Ross and Phoebe. "You look pissed."

"Because I am," you snap, shedding your jacket. "There's black fucking mold in my apartment."

"Oh, gross!"

"No, it gets better," you add, looking between your friends while your heart thumps rapidly in your throat. "It's not just my apartment. It's the entire goddamn floor."

"Oh no!"

"That's awful."

Phoebe puts her arm around you and you lean into your side, feeling yourself calm down quickly as her scent of patchouli envelops you. "I asked how long it would take them to fix it, but the super said I had to move out for a week."

"For a week?" Monica asks.

You nod. "Yeah. I hate to ask, but could I maybe stay with you and Rachel? I'll chip in with food and stuff."

Monica smiles and says, "Yeah, of course. Phoebe was actually going to be spending the night too, we can have a girls' night."

"Oh, that's fun!" Phoebe exclaims, smiling.

You grin and feel your anger slip away. You're lucky to have these people as your friends. "Thanks."

~*~

Later that night, you're making drinks with Phoebe and Monica while dressed in your pajamas. You went to your apartment to pack your things and you're glad you did your laundry yesterday.

Rachel is out with her friends and you want to assume they're nice, but they give you snooty rich-girl vibes. Plus their screaming only made you more angry than you were before, but now that you've taken two shots of rum, you feel a little better.

You fire up the blender again on your famous Tiki Death Punch--which is really just a strawberry and pineapple daiquiri--while Phoebe gets the glasses out and the door opens.

"Hey, Rach," Monica greets, finishing up the cookie dough. "How was it with your friends?"

And then, in unison, you, Phoebe, and Monica scream, mocking what Rachel and her friends did. You giggle and take off the lid to analyze your work before unplugging the blender and moving toward the glasses. But when you look back up, Rachel does not look amused and you hiss through your teeth. "Anyway, you want some Tiki Death Punch?"

"What's that?" Rachel asks, sounding exhausted.

You finish pouring the third glass and answer, "Well, it's rum and--"

Rachel doesn't even let you finish before she's taken the pitcher from your hands and is sticking a straw through the liquid.

You blink at your empty hands. "Okay."

"We thought that Phoebe was staying over and Y/N is staying here for the week, we'd have kinda like a slumber party thing. We've got trashy magazines, we've got cookie dough, we got Twister."

"I brought Monopoly and Balderdash," you add, glancing at the phone as it rings.

"And I brought Operation," Phoebe says, walking towards Rachel, who looks miserable. "But, um, I lost the tweezers so we can't operate. But we can prep the guy!"

You smile at her enthusiasm.

With the phone in her hand, Monica walks towards Rachel and says, "Uh, Rach, it's the Visa card people."

She groans and rolls her eyes. "Oh, God, ask them what they want."

"Could you please tell me what this is in reference to?" Monica asks into the phone before lowering it down and addressing Rachel. "Um, they say there's been some unusual activity on your account."

"But I haven't used my card in weeks," Rachel says, sounding even more exasperated now.

"That is the unusual activity." Rachel stands and pinches the bridge of her nose as Monica adds, "Look, they just want to see if you're okay."

"They want to know if I'm okay? Okay, they want to know if I'm okay. Okay, let's see." Slowly, you take a sip each time she says okay. "Well, let's see, the FICA guys took all my money. Everyone I know is either getting married or getting pregnant or getting promoted and I'm getting coffee. And it's not even for me! So if that sounds like I'm okay, okay, then you can tell them I'm okay. Okay?"

You swallow your last sip and see that half of your drink is gone.

Monica slowly licks her lips and lifts the phone to her ear. "Uh, Rachel has left the building. Can you call back?"

"Alright, come on!" With her voice breaking and tears in her eyes, Rachel unfurls the game mat and says, "Let's play Twister."

"Oh, Rachel!" You walk over to her and lead her to the couch as she wipes her tears. "Come on, babe, it's okay, you're fine."

"No, I'm not!" she exclaims, sniffling. "Everyone I know is being more productive than I am."

Monica sits on the other side of her and rubs her arm. "Oh, come on. You should feel great about yourself. You're doing this amazing and independent thing!"

But she just rolls her eyes and asks, "Monica, what is so amazing? I gave up, like, everything! And for what?"

"You are just like Jack!" Phoebe exclaims from her spot on the table.

Looking at her, you squint. "Pheebs, I'm a little tipsy, but what are you talking about?"

"Jack from 'Jack and the Beanstalk'," she answers like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "See, he gave up something, but then he got those magic beans. And then he woke up and there was this--this big plant outside of his window full of possibilities and stuff. And he lived in a village and you live in the village."

Rachel holds up a hand to stop her. "Okay, but, Pheebs, Pheebs. Jack gave up a cow. I gave up an orthodontist. Okay? I--I know I didn't love him, but--"

"Oh, see, Jack did love the cow."

You sigh and take another long sip of your drink.

"But, see, it was a plan," Rachel continues. "You know? It was clear. Everything was figured out and now everything's just kinda like..."

She flails her hands around, searching for the word, and you suggest, "Floopy?"

"Yeah."

You put your hands back on her arm and say, "I've been there."

"Really?" she asks, looking at you.

You nod. "Yeah, I'm there right now. I mean, I want to be a famous screenwriter and probably a director. But I live in a shitty apartment with black mold and I work as a hostess." You laugh at yourself and continue. "I live, like, three thousand kilometers away from home in a whole new country. I was supposed to go to school for nursing because my mom and my dad are both doctors, but I changed my major halfway through and moved here." You smile at her and rub up and down her arm. "And I'm happy I did because I met you guys. And, sure, I kind of hate my job and I don't have any time to write and I pour oil down my drains to fuck with my landlord. But I'm doing my own thing, doing what I like. Not what everyone else is doing. Does that make sense?"

Rachel shrugs, but then she nods.

Monica puts a hand on her shoulder. "Yeah. I mean, you've just gotta figure at some point it's all gonna come together, and it's just gonna be...un-floopy."

But then Rachel sighs and says, "Okay, but, Monica, what if--what if it doesn't come together?"

Monica rocks back and forth, searching for an answer, before quietly saying, "Pheebs?"

Phoebe puts her drink down and starts, "Well, 'cause you just like...I don't like this question. Y/N?"

You think about this question every night in bed, but you don't have an answer. And so you look around, muttering things under your breath so the heat will be off you.

"Okay, see, see you guys? What if we don't get magic beans? I mean, what if all we've got are...beans?"

Yeah, that's a thought that crosses your mind in the middle of the night too. And so you loudly slurp up the rest of your drink and pick up the pitcher. "I need more rum."

~*~

An hour and two pitchers of Tiki Death Punch later, you're all sitting in various positions in the living room. Phoebe is lying on the floor with her head on the ottoman and her hair over her face. Monica is eating cookie dough right out of the bowl with the wooden spoon. Rachel is lying across the couch with her legs in your lap. You're on your third drink and you're not even sure you can finish that. God, you're depressed, you really should get in touch with a pharmacist to get back on Prozac, but that's a hassle with the American healthcare system. Why can't it just be free like the rest of the world?

Rachel, who is changed into much comfier clothes, sighs and says, "I'm sorry, guys, I didn't mean to bring you down."

"No, you were right," Monica says, smushing the dough. "I don't have a plan!"

There's a knock at the door and that's the first time you've felt happy in forty-five minutes. "Thank Christ, food."

Rachel gets up to get the pizza and Monica says, "Phoebe?"

"Huh?" She flips her ponytail out from her face.

"Do you have a plan?"

She scoffs and says, "I don't even have a pla'."

Rachel swings the door open and a young teenage kid is standing there with pizzas. "Hi. One mushroom, green pepper, and onion?"

You almost burst into tears right then and there.

Rachel sighs. "No, no, no that's not what we ordered! We ordered a fat-free crust with extra cheese!" She also sounds like she's about to cry and lifts her fingers to her temple.

"Wait, you're not G. Stephanopoulos?"

"No."

"Oh, man, my dad's gonna kill me!"

Suddenly, Monica jumps across your legs and you almost piss yourself. Slowly, you and Phoebe follow as she asks the teenager, "Did you say G. Stephanopoulos?"

He nods. "Yeah, yeah, this one goes across the street. I must've given him yours. Oh, bonehead, bonehead." To be honest, him hitting himself in the forehead with the palm of his hand does make you smile a little.

"Wait, was this a--a small Mediterranean guy with curiously intelligent good looks?"

The kid nods. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Was he wearing a stunning blue suit?"

"A--and a power tie?" Phoebe adds.

The kid shakes his head. "Nah, pretty much just a towel."

Monica's mouth drops and she leans on Phoebe for support like she's swooning. "Oh, god."

"So do you guys want me to take this back?" the poor kid asks.

"What? Are you nuts?" Monica seizes the pizza from his hand. "We've got George Stephanopoulos' pizza!"

While Rachel pays the kid, Monica rushes to the window and grabs the binoculars.

"Who is George Stephanopoulos?" you ask Phoebe.

But before she can answer, Monica shouts out, "I see pizza!"

Phoebe runs over to look, but you and Rachel stay by the pizza. You open it and almost start to salivate. You haven't eaten since lunch and you've been craving pizza all week.

"Who are we spying on?" Rachel wonders.

"You know the White House Advisor? Clinton's campaign guy, uh, the one with the great hair, sexy smile, and really cute butt?"

You laugh at her description and eat a piece of bell pepper. "No, but I wish I did."

Rachel nods. "Oh, yeah, the little guy! Oh, I love him!"

Together, you each take a piece of pizza and walk over to the window as Phoebe says, "Ooh, wait, I see a woman."

"Oh, please tell me it's his mother," Monica says.

You squint to try to see where she's looking, but it's too dark for you to see much.

And then Phoebe says, "It's definitely not his mother."

"Oh no."

"Oh, wait, she walking across the floor. She's walking, she's walking, she's going for the pizza." Angrily, Phoebe shouts out, "Hey, that's not for you, bitch!" Quickly, she covers her mouth and the four of you giggle. Rachel hands Monica her piece of pizza and you bite into your own.

Yeah, you don't need Prozac anymore, not if you have pizza and the girls.

~*~

A little while later, you're all out on the balcony. You're full of pizza and alcohol, but you're drinking water now. It's cold outside and there's a blanket over the metal chair you're sitting on and you're wearing the red sweatshirt Chandler gave to you a couple of weeks ago when you said you were cold. You forgot to give it back and maybe if you wear it you'll remember.

Monica comes back in with another pitcher of Death Punch and by now you're sure you've used up all your rum. But it's okay because you're having fun spying on his American politician with your friends.

"Are the lights still out?" Monica asks, climbing through the window.

"Yeah," Rachel says, binoculars still glued to her eyes.

"Well, maybe they're napping."

You scoff, straw halfway in your mouth. "Please, they're having sex, Mon."

"Shut up!" Monica and Phoebe shout at the same time.

You laugh, leaning your head back.

Everyone gets their drinks and sits back down when Rachel asks, "So what do you think George is like?"

"I think he's shy," Monica answers.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. I think you have to draw him out. And then...when you do, he's a preppy animal."

You all giggle and you feel like a schoolgirl again. You swat at her while she laughs and you laugh and so do Phoebe and Rachel.

Another half-hour later, you're all laughing and telling each other lies that you've told other people.

"Okay, okay I got one," Monica says and looks at Phoebe. "Do you remember that vegetarian pâté that I made that you loved so much?"

The vegetarian nods.

Monica snickers. "Well, unless goose is a vegetable!"

You and Rachel laugh while Phoebe screws her face up in disgust.

"Okay, fine, fine. Now I don't feel so bad about sleeping with Jason Hurley."

You sip on your water, having no idea who that is, but enjoying the way Monica's eyes widen. "What? You slept with Jason?"

"You were already broken up."

"How long?"

Phoebe shrugs. "Just a couple hours."

You laugh while Monica rolls her eyes.

Giggling, Rachel sits up. "Okay, okay, I got one." But since the pillow is leaning on the side of the wall, when she sits up, it falls to the balcony below. You smile as she continues. "Anyway. The Valentine Tommy Rollerson left in your locker was really from me!"

Monica looks at her friend. "Excuse me?"

Rachel returns to her original position. "Oh, hello? Like he was really gonna send you one." Monica rolls her eyes and Rachel adds, "She was a big girl."

You gasp and laugh.

"Well, at least big girls don't pee their pants in the seventh grade," she retaliates, leaning toward you and Phoebe.

Rachel gasps, "I was laughing! You made me laugh!"

As the two girls argue, movement catches your eye and you look across the street to where George lives and gasp, standing up. "Look, there he is!"

"Where?"

You blink, pointing at his huge windows. "Right where we've been looking all night."

Together, the four of you watch this man stand only clad in a towel. If you were sober, you'd feel bad.

"Oh, he's so cute," Rachel says.

"George, baby, drop the towel!" Monica exclaims.

In unison, you all chant "Drop the towel" and you're pretty sure he can hear you. Because then he does. And you gasp and all say, "Wow."

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you look away, giggling. "Okay, I don't know if Clinton is a good president, but I'll vote for him if that's his campaign manager."

The girls giggle and go back to their seats before you all can be arrested for spying.

"I have a question, Y/N," Rachel says, hopping back up on the ledge.

"What's up?"

"Are you interested in anyone right now?"

You raise a brow at the sudden question. "Well, now I'm interested in George Stephanopoulos."

Rachel rolls her eyes but smiles. "I can understand that."

Shrugging, you stir your water with your straw. "I mean, not really. I moved here a few months ago. I've been trying to figure my way around the city, I guess I haven't had much time to look at anyone like that."

"Then why are you wearing Chandler's sweatshirt?" Phoebe asks, smiling as she takes a sip of her drink.

You look down at the piece of fabric and rub it between your fingers. It's soft and thick and it reminds you of him. "He lent it to me the other week. I just...forgot to give it back."

"Okay," Phoebe says with a breathy laugh like she doesn't believe you.

You look at your friends and see that they all have the same expression--they suspect something. "W--what? No, it's not like that!"

"We didn't say anything," Monica assures you.

"You didn't have to." You take another gulp of your drink and feel some heat creep up your cheeks. "I don't know. He's my friend and I think he's cute, but I'm not looking for a relationship right now, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," Rachel agrees and you hear the truth in her voice. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay," you tell them. "I mean. Chandler is funny and he's really sweet, but, like, mentally I'm not ready." Something dawns on you and you grab Monica's arm with wide eyes. "Does he have a thing for me?"

"No," she answers easily. "No, have you met Chandler? He's the most socially awkward person I've met."

Slowly, you nod, staring down at your drink. "Okay, okay. Cool. 'Cause I don't want to make things awkward." And then you're quiet, still staring at your drink, before you put it on the small, dingy table and stand up. "I'm going to use the bathroom."

"Are you okay?" Phoebe asks as you wobble over to the window.

"Yeah," you answer, slowly folding yourself to go through it. Your vision is swimming a little. "I'm just drunk."

"We all are," Rachel says and watches as you go back into the apartment. When the door closes, she leans close to her friends and says, "No one tell Chandler."

Monica places a hand on her heart. "No, for sure. She's totally justified, though, I wouldn't want to date someone directly after moving to another country."

Phoebe nods. "Besides, Chandler is a big boy, he can figure out his own feelings." But then she adds after a moment, "Well, maybe not, but that's his problem."

Rachel and Monica chuckle and go back to spying on Stephanopoulos.

~*~

Later, the boys come back from their hockey game. Before you can ask who won, you see Ross wearing a brace over his nose. Chandler tells you that he was hit in the face with a puck and ended up having to go to the emergency room for a broken nose.

But Ross seems in happier spirits than he was before and that you're grateful for.

Eventually, Phoebe, Joey, Monica, and Rachel are playing a game of Twister while Ross flicks the spinner. You're making some more drinks with the remaining rum for the boys to have, figuring they need it after their night.

"What's the legal drinking age in Canada?" Chandler asks, watching you pour the last of your rum into the blender before placing the empty bottle to the side.

"Eighteen," you answer, measuring the sugar with your heart. "Well, actually, it's eighteen in Manitoba, Québec, and Alberta. Everywhere else it's nineteen."

Chandler breathes out a laugh. "It's twenty-one here."

"Can't men be drafted into war when they're eighteen?"

He nods. "Yeah. It's messed up."

You hum and fire the blender up, keeping an elbow on it and closing your eyes. You've had a long day. You're still mad about your apartment and having to squat at Monica and Rachel's for a week. You know they don't mind, but you still feel bad. You'll cook them dinner a few times, that'll be nice. You would clean, but Monica is very particular about it so you figure it's best to leave it be.

Opening your eyes again, you turn the blender off and serve it up, giving one to Chandler first. You clink your glass of water with his and giggle as he smiles. You both take a sip at the same time when Chandler suddenly takes your wrist and holds your arm up.

"This sweatshirt is familiar," he says, teasing evident in his tone.

You smile and shrug. "Some guy gave it to me."

"Is that guy going to get it back?"

You shrug again. "Eventually."

Chandler tilts his head then and says, "You keep it."

"What?" you ask in disbelief. "No, Chandler, it's yours."

He shrugs, resisting the extremely strong urge to run his hand up and down your arm. "It looks better on you."

You scoff. "It does not."

He nods, smiling. "It does." His eyes trail up your figure before landing on your face. "It makes your eyes pop."

"It makes my eyes pop?"

"Yeah."

Smiling just a little, you pull the sleeves over your hands. "Thank you, Chan."

And as you walk away to give Ross his drink, Chandler breathes. He's not entirely sure how he feels about you. You're hot, you're cool, but you're also his friend. And he just basically said your eyes are pretty.

He takes a long drink of your concoction, something called Tiki Death Punch, and pours himself some more. As if that will do anything to calm his nerves. Nothing can calm his nerves when he's with you.

#x reader #chandler bing #chandler bing x reader #canadian reader #ross geller #rachel green #joey tribbiani #monica geller #phoebe buffay #don't be fooled #this is a slow burn

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