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.
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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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