#amangela fanfiction

[unknownteapot]

a future with us (5817 words) by unknownteapot ship: Angela Giarratana/Amanda Lehan-Canto series: part ii of a field of yellow flowers summary: "But Amanda was done. Amanda was tired. She’d been tired of fighting herself for three months to rid her mind of memories about a night that felt intoxicating, and she was tired now- of hiding the feelings that blossomed inside her, of things that felt like magic, things that felt so unmistakably right. Of everything, in truth. Amanda was tired of everything."

or, a continuation of and conclusion to 'a field of yellow flowers' anD HAPPY PRIDE EVERYONE <3

i dedicate this fic to @sage-lights @xxsuicidalravenxx @ammnd @okiankeno @baflegacy @poppyfamily i really admire ya'll and all the magic you create for the amangela community <3

[makattack23]

Absolutely gnawing at the bars of my enclosure and foaming at the mouth waiting for a new Devil is in the Details fic update 😭 it’s my fav and it’s just so good!!

[shebecamethesun]

amangela smau where they hardlaunch their relationship

[sage-lights]

pray to god this won't be a mess

word count: 3235 Who knew a piece of clothing could start so much trouble?

“Whose hoodie is that?”

“Huh, what?” Angela glances up from her phone startled as Chanse pulls the chair out and sits across from her.

He inspects her and points at the logo on her chest, “The Bruins hoodie. That’s not yours.”

“How would you know,” she crosses her arms, obscuring the black and yellow “B,” though it was a fruitless effort since the large “BOSTON” letters were still visible across her chest.

“I know you don’t know jack shit about any sport, let alone hockey,” he accuses, “And if you did, why wouldn’t you be repping LA instead of Bost—ohhh, that’s Amanda’s, isn’t it?”

Angela rolls her eyes and picks up the menu from the table, pretending to flip through it. For a brief moment, she thinks Chanse has dropped the subject.

Right as she lets out a sigh of relief, Chanse asks, “Why do you have Amanda’s hoodie?”

“Are you a detective or some shit? What’s up with this interrogation?” Angela tsks.

“You show up for brunch in our friend’s clothes and I’m not allowed to be curious?” He huffs. 

Angela pouts, “Okay, I don’t like your tone, mister.”

Chanse doesn’t say anything else, just stares with a look that screams “bitch, you’re not fooling me.”

“Alright, fine! It’s, uh, Amanda’s hoodie. So, what? Friends can’t share clothes anymore?” She’s flustered and she could feel her face heating up, but she refused to let Chanse see it.

“Friends can share clothes, sure. But…”

“Spit it out already, Chanse,” she’s nervously pulling at the cuffs of the sleeves, worried about what Chanse is about to ask her. There’s no question about what he’s going to say, it’s just that Angela isn’t ready to answer that question. At least, not now.

“You know, you and Amanda aren’t always ‘just friends.’ So, I don’t know, are you guys…seeing each other, like…officially?”

“You can use the word ‘dating.’ You sound like a fucking virgin,” scoffs Angela, hoping to play it cool.

“First of all, harsh—”

“It’s true!” She exclaims.

Chanse leans back in his chair, “—And second of all, you’re deflecting.”

“What do you want me to say? There’s nothing serious between us. It’s a…stress reliever, no strings attached.”

“Well, you seem pretty attached to that hoodie.”

“Argh!” Angela buries her face into her sleeve-covered hands and takes a deep breath. When she inhales, all she smells is the subtle scent of Amanda’s musky perfume lingering in the fabric. Her heart skips a beat.

“Does it smell like her?” He doesn’t even try to hide the smug look on his face.

“You’re fucking infuriating, you know?”

“I know. And that’s my job as your best friend,” Chanse laughs, “but it’s also my job to tell you when you’re acting like an idiot. And right now, you and Amanda both are.”

Angela runs her hand through her hair. “It’s really not that big of a deal, okay? I was at her place yesterday, and it got cold when I was leaving. And she had it lying around so she…gave me the hoodie.”

Chanse raises an eyebrow, his teasing grin fading a little. “And you didn’t think that meant anything?”

Angela shrugs, her fingers absentmindedly fiddle with the sleeves. “It’s just a hoodie, Chanse.”

Chanse narrows his eyes, leaning forward. “Uh-huh…”

“God, you’re impossible,” Angela deadpans.

“Look, Ang, talk to her,” Chanse says, softening. “You don’t want this to blow up, right?”

Angela lets out a long sigh, “Yeah…I know.”

“Good. So, you’re a Bruins fan now, huh?” Chanse teases, glancing at the hoodie one more time.

“Shut up,” she mutters, though there’s a small smile on her face as she picks up the menu again.

—————

Angela rubs her eyes and blinks, her vision slowly adjusting to the low light. Los Angeles is quiet at this hour, save for the occasional hoot of an owl. Not a car revving, a dog barking, a group of friends chatting and walking. A rare moment in Angela’s ever-busy life.

Moonlight streams in from the open window and illuminates the outline of the sleeping woman next to her. She watches the steady rise and fall of Amanda’s chest, memorizes the furrow persisting between her brows.

Shit, she wasn’t supposed to fall asleep here.

Carefully, Angela slips out of Amanda’s grasp, her friend’s arm having found purchase around her waist at some point during their nap. She doesn’t want to wake Amanda up, doesn’t want to make this more awkward that it already feels.

“Where are you going?” Amanda murmurs groggily, still half asleep.

Angela freezes in the middle of pulling her underwear back on, “Back home. It’s late.”

“Here,” yawns Amanda, ungracefully rolling out of bed, “I’ll walk you out.” She turns her back to Angela and throws on an oversized t-shirt and boxer shorts.

She shimmies the rest of her clothes on, as best as she can manage in the dark. When she feels she’s decent, Angela waits in the doorway to Amanda to join her. Together, they shuffle in silence down the hallway to the front door.

Angela fumbles a little with her shoes. She props a hand up on the wall next to her to steady herself.

Amanda asks, “Are you okay to drive home?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m awake.”

Her friend isn’t entirely convinced, but she also knows there’s no point in fighting Angela once she’s made up her mind. Amanda unlocks the door and swings it open, hissing as the cold wind cuts at their skin. Even after living her entire life in the same city, Angela always forgets how chilly nights in Los Angeles can get.

She tries her best not to be affected by the weather, though she can’t help it when a shiver runs down her spine.

“Where’d you park, Ang?”

She points out the door to the left, “On the other street. It’s not that far, don’t worry.”

“It’s cold,” Amanda states plainly.

“It’s fine.”

But Amanda’s already begun rifling through her coat closet, “Take a jacket with you.”

Angela is about to open her mouth to protest when she decides against it. She’s tired, it’s cold, and she’s filled with a myriad of conflicting feelings that she doesn’t want to try and sort out right now.

She wasn’t supposed to fall in love. It’s not what they agreed on, right?

To be fair, they never explicitly outlined what the rules of this whole “friends with benefits” arrangement was going to be. Doing it at work was unprofessional. Texting about it felt impersonal. And talking about it face to face was hard when they tended to see each other like this when someone was a little tipsy.

But right now, Angela liked the warm feeling of being cared for. If this ever gets brought up in the daylight, she’ll blame it on the sleep deprivation. And plus, it’s not out of character for Amanda to be concerned like this. So, it’s fine. It’s. Fine.

“Thanks,” she takes the hoodie and clumsily wiggles herself into it. There’s a distinct smell to it, strong and grounding. 

There’s a weight to it too, though Angela’s not sure if she’s imagining that part.

“Drive safe, baby,” Amanda smiles. That goddamn nickname.

“Bye, ‘Manda,” and she walks out the door.

—————

Her conversation with Chanse lingers in her mind throughout the next week. Every day, Angela brings the Bruins hoodie to work in her backpack, intent on returning it to its rightful owner. And every day, she returns home with it.

She tells herself it’s because the timing isn’t perfect. Amanda’s busy, distracted. She’s busy too—there’s too much going on in the office for her to be worrying about a hoodie. Yet deep down, Angela knows it’s more than that.

Each time she feels the soft fabric beneath her fingers, her mind spins with reasons to keep it. It felt like proof that outside of their work and group hangouts, there was something private and intimate that was just theirs.

And that was the problem.

Angela knew she couldn’t let herself want more, couldn’t let this thing between them get tangled with emotions. This isn’t what Amanda wants. And if Angela wasn’t careful, she was going to fall deeper than she already had.

It’s the end of the day Friday and Angela still hasn’t worked up the courage. She’s standing by her desk in the bullpen, cleaning up her things for the day, when Amanda approaches her.

“Heading out?” Amanda leans against the cement column next to her desk.

“Yeah, I’ve got rehearsals to run with Patrick for ‘Mamma Mia.’ You?”

“I’m gonna stick around a little longer. Selina, Shayne, and I have a meeting for the pod and Arasha wants me to look over a sketch idea she has.”

Angela looks down at her backpack, the yellow and black logo peeking out of the pocket taunting her, urging her to do something.

She blinks and zips it up, slinging her backpack onto her shoulders. While adjusting her camo hat, she looks up at Amanda, “You’ll let me know if you’re free this weekend? We should, um, hang out.”

Amanda nods, “Of course. Drive safe, baby.”

“Bye, ‘Manda,” and she walks away. There’s a feeling of deja vu that washes over Angela, leaving her feeling vulnerable and soft. Turn around. Turn around. Turn around.

“Wait, Amanda,” Angela stops so abruptly that she almost bumps into Marcus who was crossing in front of her.

She shrugs one arm out of the backpack strap and swings it around to her front, hands sweating as she fiddles with the zippers. She turns and walks towards Amanda again. From her backpack, she pulls out the Bruins hoodie and tries to hand it to Amanda, who surprisingly pushes it away.

“I always forget to give it back to you,” Angela chuckles nervously.

“Keep it, Ang,” Amanda shakes her head, smiling.

She stares up in confusion, “What? No, it’s yours. I’m not stealing it from you.”

“You’re not stealing, I’m giving it to you. Insisting too.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it never really fit me right anyways. Plus,” Amanda winks, “it looks better on you.”

Angela hesitates, slowly retracting her arm and stuffing the hoodie back into her backpack, “If you ever want it again, let me know. I’ll give it back in a heartbeat.”

“I won’t, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

She’s unsure of how to respond to that, so she just stands and stares at Amanda.

“Take good care of it, Ang.”

“Okay,” is all she could mutter. She watches paralyzed as Amanda strolls past her and towards the conference room. It takes a couple moments for Angela to realize she must look like an idiot standing in the middle of the office like this and quickly heads out to the parking lot.

Once in the safety of her own car, she immediately texts Chanse.

angela: i tried to give it back chanse: wdym tried? angela: she told me to keep it chanse: ohhhhh bitch angela: i’m so fucked aren’t i? chanse: awww ang do you want me to come to you where are you? angela: it’s okay i’ll be okay

She leans her head against the headrest, closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath. Fuck me. There’s no denying it—Angela’s in too deep.

—————

“Angela?” Amanda calls out. It’s late, hours past midnight, and the festivities of Courtney and Shayne’s wedding party have long since died down. 

Angela makes her way over from the room next door and cracks the door open. She spots Amanda standing in front of the full length mirror, “What’s up?” 

Amanda glances over her shoulder, “I can’t get out of this fucking dress. Can you help me unzip it?”

“Sure,” Angela closes the door behind her to give Amanda some privacy.

When it shuts, Angela can physically feel the air in the room thicken. There’s been something unspoken hanging between them all night, all year even. Now, in a room alone and both their minds pleasantly clouded with alcohol, the tension feels practically suffocating.

Cautiously, Angela approaches Amanda, meticulously unhooking the clasp above the zipper and dragging it down tantalizingly slowly. Amanda’s smooth skin is a beautiful olive, dotted with light freckles from her summer out in the sun.

Before Angela can stop herself, she presses a kiss against Amanda’s spine. Amanda gasps at the cool sensation while the rest of her body heats up.

“Angela?” She asks again. However, the kisses don’t stop, and Amanda can’t control it when she screws her eyes shut, tilting her head back, and bites her bottom lip to suppress a moan.

“You are so fucking beautiful, ‘Manda. Did you know that?” Kiss. “You’re a goddess.” Kiss. “The kind of woman men used to start wars over.” Kiss. “I’m not worthy of you.” Kiss. “But I want you. Kiss. “Crave you.” Kiss.

Amanda reaches behind her and grabs onto Angela, her eyes still closed. Her nails dig into Angela’s skin. In her lust filled haze, Amanda hopes it’s deep enough that she’ll leave marks that will still be visible in the morning. She presses harder.

Again and again, they fall into bed together.

—————

Over the weekend, Amanda texts her several times asking to hang out. Angela sends back one or two worded responses, always something along the lines of “can’t” or “i’m busy.”

They don’t see each other again until they’re back in the office. Even then, Angela does her best to avoid Amanda. Other than the videos they’re scheduled for together, she doesn’t exchange a single word with her friend.

Amanda notices early on that something is off with Angela, though she doesn’t want to prod her about it, lest she make things worse with Angela with her worrying. She still asks around the office, however, hoping her friends also noticed Angela’s strange behavior. Unfortunately, no one else has.

“I know she’s been especially busy,” responds Arasha, “But she seems pretty normal around the office, so that’s good.”

Amanda hums in agreement, even if that answer was less than satisfactory. There’s nothing she can really do about it as of this moment. She can’t force Angela to talk to her, nor does anything seem to be severely wrong with her, so Amanda supposes she’ll just have to deal with the torturous silence for now.

Later, she follows Angela out to her car once they’ve wrapped for the day. This silent treatment could honestly be nothing and Amanda’s just been overthinking it all, but something deep in her gut is pulling her towards Angela, calling her to talk to her.

Even if it’s only been a couple of days, she’s already starting to miss how her name sounds coming from Angela’s lips.

She approaches the driver’s window and knocks, accidentally catching Angela off guard with the sudden sound.

“Holy shit,” gasps Angela as she opens the door, “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” Amanda answers earnestly.

“Everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that.”

Angela looks away, uncomfortable, and lies, “Everything’s been good with me.”

“Then how come you’ve been ignoring me all day? You can’t even look me in the eyes right now,” Amanda says, growing a bit bolder.

“It’s nothing.”

“It definitely doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

“Amanda,” Angela pauses, takes a deep breath, and looks back at Amanda with a neutral expression, “I think…it’s better if we stop seeing each other.”

“What?”

“Like…outside of work. At night,” Angela clears her throat, “When we…hook up.”

Amanda frowns, “Can I ask why?”

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

Amanda rolls her eyes, “You really think that line is gonna work on me?”

“What I mean is…it’s messy, you know?”

“No, I don’t know,” she crosses her arms, defensive.

Angela chews nervously at her bottom lip, “It’s just that we’re colleagues and we should try and keep things professional. It’s best this way.”

“Oh, so you know what’s best for me now?” 

“It’s best for both of us. You don’t want anything serious,” sighs Angela.

“And you know what I want. Oh, good. You could start a business predicting people’s futures since you think you can read them so well,” spits Amanda, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She’s barely an inch away from Angela now—their noses are practically touching.

Angela’s gaze flickers from Amanda’s lips to the fire in her eyes and back to her lips, “What do you want then?”

Once more, the air is heavy between them, filled with some mix of lust, want, guilt, and regret.

Amanda can’t fucking bear the quiet any longer. She leans down and kisses Angela hard, holding the lapels of Angela’s jacket to pull her in closer. It’s rough and not the best kiss they’ve shared by a long shot, but it doesn’t matter because for the first time in months, it feels real.

She can feel Angela’s lips curve into a smile.

“Just to be clear,” Amanda barely manages to pull away, “What I want is you. In any way you’ll have me.”

Angela surges forward and kisses her again.

—————

“Shit!”

Angela whips her head around, pausing her stirring of the sauce pot, “What hap—oh.”

All the way down Amanda’s white top was spilt red wine—the glass in her hand was now completely empty. Angela covers her mouth, stifling a laugh, while Amanda stares at the stain in shock.

“Someone’s had a little too much to drink already,” Angela turns the stove down to low and wipes her hands haphazardly on a dish towel.

“I’m so sorry, this is not how I imagined our first date going,” Amanda is so visibly embarrassed, but Angela finds it kind of endearing.

“It’s okay, it happens,” she motions for Amanda to follow her, “C’mere, I think I have some bleach around here somewhere.”

Down the hallway, Angela pushes the wooden slat doors to her laundry unit open. She stands on her tip-toes to reach the bottle of bleach on the top shelf, almost toppling over in the process. Amanda wraps her arms around Angela’s waist to steady her.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Angela holds out her hand, “Give it here.”

“What?”

“Your shirt. How else are we going to get the stain out.”

Amanda blinks, “You want me to strip?”

“Don’t get shy on me now,” Angela rolls her eyes, “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

“Unbelievable,” scoffs Amanda. In one smooth motion, she deftly pulls her top over her head and drops it into the washing machine, leaving her clad in a white lace bra. Angela swallows hard.

“Look who’s shy now,” preening at the way Angela’s eyes scan over her body.

“Shut up,” Angela shoots back, but her words come out more breathy than she intended.

“As much as I’m enjoying this, I’m going to freeze without a shirt. Got anything I can borrow?”

“Borrow? No. But to keep? I might have a few options.”

“Keep?”

Angela ducks into her room leaving Amanda leaning against the doorway, watching as she digs through her drawers. She pulls out a bright blue t-shirt with the letters “UCLA” front and center.

“It’s only fair,” explains Angela, tossing it to Amanda, “A Bruin for a Bruin.”

Amanda laughs as she pulls the t-shit on, “How long has that joke been sitting in the driveway?”

“I just thought of it, I swear!”

“Sure you did,” Amanda teases.

Angela tugs at her arm, pulling them back towards the kitchen, “C’mon, there's a bolognese with our names on it!”

[lilac-hecox]

Smoshblr Secret Santa Exchange 2024!

I wanted to throw together a Secret Santa for our smoshblr fandom and after polling you guys, you seemed into it so here it is!

I'll give you a little breakdown of the explanation/rules:

This event is 18+

The exchange is open to fics, art, Gif Sets, Moodboards, Playlists, edits, other fan created content

Sign-ups are from now (November 15th) until November 22nd. (If you missed sign-ups and would still like to participate you could sign up for pitch-hitting fill-ins in case we have drop outs!)

Pairings for gifter/giftee will be done on November 23rd.

Gifts will be posted between December 23rd-25th

As this is an event where you are making something for someone else secretly, we ask that if you do not think you can create something in the timeframe to please not sign-up as we do not want to have people not receive a gift.

Please fill out the Google Form for information on what you like, don't like, and what you're willing to create and receive.

Any questions, comments, concerns please reach out to me!

Reblogs are appreciated!

Huge credit to @shaynesunderstudy for creating this super cute graphic!

[toomuchsmoshbrainrot]

Finally got the AO3 Wrapped thing to work!

...I guess I read a lot of Amangela? Really? Okay...

also hi @femmmie, @lilac-hecox, @totallynotmeems, and @heliophxle :P (idk if the other person has tumblr...)

[swords-and-or]

wouldn't it be crazy... if i made an amangela fanart inspired by @okiankeno 's Blood Smears fic 👀

you can look at the whole thing on my notion cause its slighttlyyy 18+?

taking requests, as well!

[amangelaa]

Playing Tricks, Let’s Kiss Forreal

Summary: “Okay,” Angela states plainly. “Huh?” Amanda begins to question, but has no time to register what Angela has even said before she’s seizing her lips into a fierce kiss. Amanda’s eyes widen and her face flushes hot. The unexpected contact leaves her completely flustered and has the other three members gobsmacked.

made a drabble inspired from this awesome fanart by @ammnd

[wishywashysmoshy]

It's the holidays. Angela deserves to rest.

Wrote something short and simple for the holidays <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rating: Teen and up audience

No Archive Warnings Apply

Characters: Angela Giarratana and Amanda Lehan-Canto

Additional tags: Drabble; Swearing; Established Relationship; Girlfriends; Fluff; Not Beta Read

[unknownteapot]

personal leisure (3973 words) by unknownteapot Rating: Explicit Pairing: Amanda/Angela

Summary: “Hi gorgeous..” a smooth female voice sounded from the other end of the line, Angela almost choked- in what world do hotel receptionists sound so damn horny? “I’d just like to order some food.” she muttered after finally collecting herself, “Mmmm..” the honey-filled voice hummed, “What would you like, princess?” or an AU in which Angela just wants some lasagna, but acidentally dials a phone sex hotline.

here are the now 11 pages of hot amangela filth

[baflegacy]

you are heaven sent (with your dirty mind)

The ‘mommy’ jokes started to get to her.

(Granted, not in the way most would think.)

—

all i’ll say is….i. am So Sorry.

[shebecamethesun]

• 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒆 •

an amangela au where amanda offers to share her home with her best friend, angela. how will living together change them? will one of them finally be strong enough to take things further, or will they forever remain 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 friends?

(work in progress. stay tuned!)

[sage-lights]

this love’s possessing me

word count: 2085 Amanda unknowingly starts to tiptoe the line and now Angela wants all in. (as always, a huge thank you to @babychosen for being my sounding board and helping me workshop different ideas!)

Normally, Angela isn’t one to spend her Friday nights at a kitschy beach bar. It feels horribly cliche living in Los Angeles. But when Erin came barrelling into the office Monday morning raving about a small bar she found with Vida that past weekend, it undoubtedly piqued Angela’s interest. She’s gone out on the weekends with Erin enough times to know that her friends are particular about what she deems a place worth recommending to others.

Later that week, during their lunch break, the topic comes up again. Angela is sitting with Arasha, chatting idly about random topics when Arasha starts talking about how she went out a while ago with Fabian and Rowan.

“Are you talking about that tiny place in Venice?” Angela asks, holding a fork-full of food mid-air.

Arasha lights up, “Yeah, have you been?”

“No, but I think Erin’s been talking about the same place earlier this week.”

As if the sound of her name summoned her, Erin plops down at their table, “What about me?”

“Remember that beach bar you were telling us about? ‘Rash’s been too,” says Angela.

“Oh my god, no way!” Erin turns to Arasha, “What are you doing Friday night? You’ve gotta help me convince them to come.”

Arasha laughs, “Don’t worry, Tommy’s already in. He said, and I quote, ‘There’s no way that place is actually good, I’ve gotta go!’ And I’m pretty sure Court and Shayne will be down to come too!”

They look at Angela expectantly.

“Oh, um, I don’t know guys…”

“Come on! You’ve been so busy it’s been a while since you’ve had a night out with us,” pleads Erin.

Arasha nods, “It’ll be fun, I promise. The cocktails are cheap and not shitty. And I’m sure I can get Chanse to come with as well.”

“And it’s got karaoke,” Erin cheekily adds, her voice laced with a sing-songy quality.

In the same way Erin gets summoned by someone saying her name, Amanda is bound to appear the moment someone mentions karaoke.

“Karaoke where?” Doesn’t matter, I’m already in,” Amanda takes a seat right next to Angela. Almost like it’s on instinct, Amanda leans back and drapes her arm around Angela’s shoulders. “You’re coming too, right Ang?”

She groans, “Ugh, fine. Count me in.”

Which is how Angela found herself drinking sugary cocktails garnished with brightly colored paper umbrellas and a variety of tropical fruit slices. The bar was decked out in fairy lights and tiki decor.

Her friends were all scattered about the crowded space—Tommy and Chanse were chatting (more like flirting, if she was being honest) with the bartenders, Courtney and Arasha were waiting eagerly near the karaoke stage for their turn to sing a duet, and the rest of the group were talking and laughing loudly at a couple tables near the back.

Angela raises her glass to her lips and is disappointed to find she’s already finished her drink. There’s a pleasant buzz that courses through her, but it’s not prominent enough for her liking. If she’s going to let loose tonight, then she’s going to let loose.

Wandering over to the counter, she sidles up next to Tommy and Chanse, props her elbow to lean against the counter, and sets down her empty glass.

“Do you guys do a dirty martini here?” she asks.

Chanse rolls his eyes, “Of course they do, Ang. This is a bar.”

“I don’t know! What if they only do, like, tropical themed drinks here?”

Tommy snickers, “You’d think she snuck in here or something. It’s like she’s never been to a bar before.”

“Get off my back!” Angela faces the amused bartender, deciding to make him an ally if her friends are going to turn on her. “I’d like to personally apologize for any bullshit you’ve had to endure talking to my two idiot friends. They’re the absolute worst.”

“Hey!” Chanse yells indignantly.

The bartender chuckled, wiping condensation from his hands before reaching for her empty glass, “I’ll get you that dirty martini.”

“Thank you! Hey, do you want to be my new best friend? I’m currently taking applications to replace these two!” shouts Angela, to which Chanse slaps her arm, a little harder than he intended. He winces.

She pouts, “Ow, what the fuck?”

“Jesus Christ,” Tommy shakes his head lovingly, “you two are ridiculous.”

Angela opens her mouth, about to retort when she’s cut off by Amanda magically appearing to her right side.

“What are you guys going tucked away over here?”

“There was a really cute bartender that Angela just scared away,” Chanse tries to point subtly at the man now on the far side pouring the martini from a silver shaker.

Amanda sneaks a glance over Tommy’s shoulder, “Oh, he is cute!”

“Shhh! You’re being too obvious, Amanda!” scolds Chanse.

She ignores him, laughing. “So, who’s going home with his number?”

“Oh no, I’m too busy to date right now. Plus, he’s so not my type,” clarifies Tommy, “I’m just trying to wingman for Chanse tonight.”

“How’s it going? Have you guys gotten anywhere?” Amanda prods.

The boys launch straight into recounting every single second of their conversation with the bartender from the moment they said hello. Angela smiles and nods along, occasionally lobbing insults (that lacked any real fire behind them) at Chanse.

At some point during the conversion—Angela’s not entirely sure when it happened—Amanda snakes her hand around Angela’s waist and shifts her weight onto one leg, leaning further into Angela’s personal space. She’s close enough that Angela could feel the warmth radiating from her skin and the faint brush of Amanda’s breath against her neck.

It’s been happening more often recently. An arm slung around Angela’s shoulders, a hand on her waist, a caressing thumb over her knuckles. All these little touches that make Angela’s heart skip. Amanda has never been one to shy away from physical touch and the touches are innocent enough to be friendly, but they linger just long enough to make her hope for something more.

Not that Angela’s complaining. It’s just…interesting. In the dimly lit room and with her cheeks already flushed a little rosy from the alcohol, she’s just hoping no one will clock the way her body heats up more as Amanda slowly runs her fingers up and down her side.

This happened to be one of the rare nights Angela wore a crop top, giving Amanda’s hand direct contact with her skin. The touch of her fingers on Angela’s bare skin sent a jolt through her, like a live wire sparking with each stroke leaving her a little more breathless.

Angela swears there was something about the way Amanda is stroking her that made her feel even drunker.

“Hello? Earth to Angela!”

She blinks, registering Chanse’s waving hand in front of her face.

“Sorry, I must’ve zoned out for a second. What were you saying?”

“We’ve got to cut her off after this drink,” jokes Tommy, attempting to reach over and gingerly take Angela’s martini glass from her hand. She snatches her hand back.

“Guy, I’m fine. I swear. I’ve barely had anything to drink.”

“We’ll, as a first time drinker, you’ve got to take it slow,” Chanse mocks.

“Shut up!” Angela returns his earlier favor, and wacks his arm back.

“Okay, that actually hurt, bitch.”

“Your bitch count is at four today, bitch!”

“Whatever,” tsks Chanse before redirecting his attention back to the conversation they were previously having, leaving Angela glad that they didn’t keep questioning her about what she was thinking about.

Angela’s mind drifts again, her attention slowly returning when she feels something tickling her side. At first, she thought it was the tag of her shirt, so she wiggles around trying to slightly jostle it into a new position. But the prickling sensation travels lower and lower, and oh.

Amanda’s hand has made its way into the back pocket of her jeans. Amanda’s hand is in her pocket.

It’s not like Amanda is acting inappropriately (if anything about this situation can even be considered “appropriate”); she’s not squeezing Angela’s ass or anything. Her hand is just there. Firm, but not moving. Warm, undoubtedly noticeable, and, as much as Angela doesn’t want to admit it, comforting.

She looks up wide eyed, searching for some kind of acknowledgement in Amanda’s eyes. Luckily, Amanda catches Angela staring at her and it’s like this bubble that they’re in has burst because she suddenly realized exactly where her hand has wandered.

The moment that Angela feels Amanda try to pull away, she reaches behind her and holds Amanda’s hand there.

“Ang—,” Amanda begins.

Angela leans in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper, “I like it when you touch me like that.” The words come out before she can stop herself, a quiet confession buried under the noise of the bar.

Amanda stares, dazed. And blinks. Oh, she’s actually serious about this. Carefully, she slips her hand fully back into Angela’s pocket. Only then does Angela loosen her vice grip on her wrist.

Chanse is thankfully none the wiser, still babbling on about the bartender. Tommy, on the other hand, notices how stiff Amanda now seems. They lock eyes and he slowly lowers his gaze to where Amanda’s hand is buried.

He raises an eyebrow and mouths, “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” she replies silently, though she can tell that Tommy isn’t even a little bit convinced. He’s about to ask again, but Amanda shakes her head, telling him to drop it.

But, he doesn’t.

“I’ve been standing way too long. We should join everyone because I need to take a seat,” announces Tommy.

Chanse shrugs and follows, leaving Angela and Amanda alone in silence. They don’t say anything as Amanda removes her hand, and this time, Angela doesn’t stop her.

“Well, I should probably get going,” she mutters, rubbing the back of her neck, trying to ignore the lingering warmth of Amanda’s touch.

“Come say ‘bye’ to everyone at least?” Amanda asks, voice gentle, her eyes searching Angela’s face.

“Say ‘bye’ for me,” Angela pulls out her phone and taps the screen, “My UberEats is about to get to my house anyways.”

“Of course it is. I’ll walk you out.”

They stop by the curb, standing in the soft glow of a streetlamp, and Angela sighs. Outside, the night air hits Angela like a wave, cool and refreshing compared to the stuffy warmth inside.

It’s sobering, but not enough to dim the electric current between them. Her pulse quickens, heat blooming in her chest as she thinks about Amanda’s touch, her warmth, and before she can stop herself, the words spill out.

“You should come home with me,” her words slurred but sincere. It’s vulnerable, though there’s an obvious desire that burns in her eyes as well.

Amanda’s lips part as if she’s going to say yes, but she hesitates and sighs, “Angela…I want to. Trust me, I do. But…”

Angela frowns, confused, her heart sinking at the rejection. “But?”

Amanda strokes Angela’s cheek gently, her thumb brushing away a stray strand of hair. “You’ve been drinking, and I…I’m not sure what this all means yet.”

The words land heavily between them, leaving Angela speechless. Behind her, she hears a car pull up and hears the driver call her name.

Amanda presses a soft kiss to Angela’s forehead, her lips lingering just a moment longer than they should. The tenderness in the kiss tells Angela everything—there’s something there, but Amanda’s not ready to face it. The warmth of it lingers, though it only deepens the ache in Angela’s chest, the unanswered question of where they stand hanging heavy between them.

“Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe, okay?” she opens the door for Angela to climb in.

“Good night, ‘Manda.”

“Good night, honey.”

Through the window, Angela watches as Amanda grows smaller in the distance until it’s just a tiny shadow that walks back into the bar alone.

She turns to look out the window, catching one last glimpse of Amanda, her figure bathed in a soft glow. There’s something painfully beautiful about the sight, but it only makes Angela’s chest tighten.

As the car pulls away, Amanda grows smaller and smaller until she’s just a tiny shadow that walks back into the bar alone.

(About an hour later, Amanda checks her phone and sees a selfie of Angela and Spork sitting on her bed with a bowl of pasta in her lap. She smiles and double taps the image.)

[lilac-hecox]

Based on the end of the assumptions video where Amanda said if she didn't do Smosh she would be a scuba instructor in Turks and Caicos.

Imagine very rom-com she meets Angela whose on a like vacation with her best friend Chanse because they both flew out to celebrate the anniversary of their friends Ian and Anthony.

Angela is like crushing hard on this scuba instructor, and Chanse teases her mercilessly.

Sorta like the movie Forgetting Sarah Marshall where Amanda and Angela bump into each other on the island at the local places and they have silly little meet - cute moments.

The anniversary party is coming up and Angela wants to ask Amanda who is gorgeous in her flowing island dresses and or cute bathing suits but she is very intimidated.

Let's say Amanda's best friend is Shayne who is a surf instructor. She talks about Angela a lot and Shayne is like "Oh my God, ask her out."

Then maybe miscommunication?? Angela assumes Shayne is Amanda's boyfriend?? She is sad??

But somehow they figure it out at the last moment and Amanda shows up on the beach at the anniversary party and it's dark and a little breezy and they are near the ocean when they confess their feelings to each other??

And they kiss with the ocean lapping at their ankles???

Also, is there a possible side pairing of Chanse and Shayne?? And of course, Ian and Anthony are silly, dumb, in love island surrogate dads.

[okiankeno]

Maybe, Maybe

7977 words

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Sarah Christ/Reader/Cop Cameron, Sarah Christ/Cop Cameron

Maybe you could arrange something—three ladies, one mission—because it could be fun if everyone cooperated. However, the issue would be getting Sarah and Cameron to agree to share you in the bedroom. You felt okay about it; you had two hands, after all. That’s where the friction and tension would come from; you knew they would want to prove themselves to you, and you could take both of them.

(Not in a fight.)

[vicky-0933]

Who are you going to chose?

—————————————

You, Amanda, Angela, Shane, and Arasha are playing burrito bowl, and Shane being the winner. “All right everyone, that’s Burrito Bawl, as you can see Shane is the winner, and you can catch us later playing a fancier version of this game” Arasha says and everyone is laughing because of something Angela did. The video ends, and everyone goes to their own ways, you sigh heading to the kitchen, “Let’s see what we got here” you say, opening the fridge.

Seeing the different energy drinking, you can’t figure what to get, the door opens, “Hey Babe, I got you this” you hear a voice says behind you and your turn to see Amanda, “awww thanks, I needed this, and it’s my favorite too” you say getting the drink from her hand and open it start to drink it. “So, what are you doing to later” she asks you, you shake your head, “nothing just going to make myself some food, do some work” you say leaning back into the counter, sighing.

“Oh yea, what are you working on?” She says in soft tone, you start to tell what you are working on, and start rambling on about other things, and Amanda just looks at you, not knowing that you stopped and your now looking at each other. She stepped closer to you, both hands blocking your way out, towering over you, “You know, maybe we can hang out at your house, and chill, maybe I can help with whatever you need on” Amanda says in a low seductive tone.

“Oh yea, what would you help me with” you tease, she comes closer until you get a call from your phone and she pulls away, and you get your phone and answer the call. “Hello”, “hey pretty lady where are ya at” you hear Angela say and you chuckle, “I am here in the kitchen with Amanda, and we were just talking, why what’s up” you ask and you didn’t notice Amanda looking mad. You both talk for a little bit, “Hey Yn, can you come over to the green room, I have something for yea” Angela says and you agree.

“Met ya there” you say and hung up, “who was that, where are you going” Amanda ask is a bit of demanding time but you don’t notice it, “Oh Angela wanted to give me something so I am going to head over there” you say and peck Amanda in the cheek, and go to the green room, not noticing that Amanda was blushing. You walk into the green room and see Angela sitting there on her phone.

“Hey Angel, what’s up” you say walking towards her and sit next to her. She chuckles and moves closer to you, you both starts talking about anything, but then she just stops and grabs your face, “What do you going to do after this” Angela asks, “nothing, just work, Amanda might come over” you say, and just as Angela was going to say something, someone walks in. “Hey Yn, can you come over really quick I need your help with something” Shane says, and you nod, heading over there with him.

—————————————

Hehe i cant wait to finish this, i have more stories to right to with. I might do a part 2 to this but with smut. Idk tell me what you guys think