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c9sneaksen-blog · 7 years

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Ice Cream and Rainy Days

Smoothie was a man who had seen many things. He had seen Sneaky drink a whole half-gallon of milk at once. He had done the Cloud9 laundry. He had walked in on former support BunnyFuFu and the ex-Cloud9 member, Hai doing unmentionable things. He was a battle-hardened warrior.

He was the so-called mother of Cloud9.

Which is why he was entirely unsurprised to watch as Sneaky walk into the room, throw himself face-first into the couch and mutter into the pillows:

“Fucking Jensen,”

Smoothie didn’t blink at eye.

“Really, Sneaky, we don’t need to hear you read your bucket list out loud,” He said without looking up from his phone.

Sneaky shot up from the couch, pressing a pillow over his face.

“Fu–! Smoothie! Shut the fuck up! You know that’s not what I meant!”

The support gave a noncommittal hum.

“Oh yeah? What did you mean, then?”

Sneaky slid down into a slouch, running his hands through his infamous hair.

“I don’t know! It’s just…doesn’t he ever bother you? It’s so dumb. He’s so distant half the time and then he’s doing that stupid smile and acting like a dumbass. And his hair is stupid. And the way he’ll sometimes wear those big, nerdy glasses on his stupid little face. He’s fucking boosted.”

This time, Smoothie had to put down his phone and turn his attention to his ADC. He knew it would have only been a matter of time before this came up. It didn’t pass him the way his ADC and mid-laner stared smittenly at each other. This needed some real mom advice.

“Sneaky…that was real cute and all…but don’t you think you should confess to him?”

The brilliant ad-carry stared at Smoothie with the blankest expression.

“Confess what? That I was the one who ate his last chocolate bar?”

Smoothie’s eye twitched slightly.

“Er…no, Zach. I think we need to talk.”

It was not unlike explaining something to a very small and innocent child.

“But we’re talking right now…” Sneaky muttered.

Smoothie leaned forward, resting his hands on his knees, and gave Sneaky the kindest smile he could muster.

“Sneaky, I know this might be hard for you, but have you ever considered that you might be in love with Jensen?”

Then, Smoothie braced himself.

“The fuck??? Andy, what the fuck is that supposed to mean? I’m not fucking in love with Jensen! What the–Andy–fucking shit–I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!” Sneaky rambled, face flushed and eyes wide.

“Yo Zach, you know we love you to death. We’re just trying what’s best for you and our team. I see the way you look at him and the way he looks at you. You guys are so unbelievably sweet with each other, it’s rotting my teeth. Not to mention, the sexual tension is killing our League game. Do yourselves and the team a favor and just go confess to him.” Smoothie explained. This was going better than he had initially expected. Better being Sneaky hadn’t ran out of the room screaming and decided to retire from League of Legends esports.

“Andy, I just got done telling you how boosted Jensen is, why would that mean I want to bang him?” Sneaky shot back, chucking a pillow at Smoothie.

“Yeah, well, when you have a crush on him, it sounded more like a romantic love note than a toxic chat flame. I mean c’mon, ‘His stupid smile’? ‘Nerdy glasses’? Tell me Zach, what do you think about his laugh?”

“It’s so fucking adorable. DEPLORABLE! I SAID DEPLORABLE. WELL, I HAVE TO GO NOW, SEE YA LATER!” Sneaky said way too loudly, jumping up from the couch.

“Hah! You are not going anywhere Scuderi!” Smoothie grabbed Sneaky by his shoulders and pushed him back onto the couch.

Sneaky groaned and smashed his hands against his face, pushing his thick-framed glasses up into his mop of hair.

“Fucking hell. I’m in love with Jensen.”

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

Smoothie called it “Plan SneakSen”. Maybe he read too many fanfictions, maybe it came to him in a burst of inspiration, but either way, the name was formed and it stuck.

Smoothie was Sneaky’s wingman, the greatest real-life support that Sneaky could ask for. He always made sure to pair up the two of them when they group went out, always made sure that they were sitting across or next to each other, and always prompted conversations between them.

“Haha, wow guys, look at Sneaky’s hair! It’s so fluffy today!” Smoothie chirped brightly over his bowl of pho they were having for dinner.

Sneaky reached up to touch his hair self-consciously.

“Ah fuck, it probably looks like badger is draped over my head.”

Jensen frowned, a spoonful of pho halfway to his mouth.

“I think it looks fine. I like it when it’s fluffy. You know. Like it looks normal. Just mentioning.”

Sneaky’s face lit up like a blow-torched tomato.

“Really? Most people think my hair is dumb.” He said, yanking a strand down and going cross-eyed as he looked at it.

“Nah, it’s not dumb. People are fucking idiots.” Jensen muttered.

Contractz cleared his throat loudly. “Why don’t you two like, go make out or something?”

“Shut the fuck up, dude.” Sneaky said defensively.

Smoothie noted that Jensen did not say anything, just flush pink under the fluorescent lights.

“Well, anyways, want me to make you guys some sundaes? Nothing like ice cream after take-out pho.” Smoothie said.

There was a resounding cheer from the Cloud9 roster seated around the table.

“Fuck yes, dude!” Impact said.

“Great! Let me go get the supplies.” Smoothie made a show of clearing his place and walking to the kitchen, knowing fully well there was not a single lick of ice cream in the c9 house.

“Ah, fuck!” He called from the kitchen. “We don’t have any ice cream!”

“What?” Jensen muttered, brows furrowed. “I thought we just got some.”

“Nope, absolutely none in here.” Smoothie confirmed, glancing over at the trash can where he had throw out the carton of vanilla ice cream yesterday.

“Ah man, I really wanted that sundae…” Ray said with a sigh, staring forlornly down at his empty bowl.

“Hey! I know what to do! Jensen, Sneaky, why don’t you run out and grab us a container real quick? We have the hot fudge and everything…we just need some ice cream.” Smoothie declared as if the idea has just come to him.

“Yeah man, go get the ice cream! What’s pho night without Andy’s sundaes?” Contractz agreed.

Jensen narrowed his eyes at Smoothie.

“Why both of us? I can easily go by myself.”

A bead of sweat trickled down Smoothie’s forehead. He played it cool. It was just life or death shot-calling. He was used to it in League.

“Nah man, you’re too small. Some mugger will mistake you for a kid and try to kidnap you. You need big, strong Sneaky to protect you with his mullet.” Smoothie ad-libbed, trying to appeal to the group’s sense of humor.

“Haha, yeah Sneaky, you’ve gotta shield Jensen with your noodle arms!” Impact crowed with laughter.

Sneaky flexed his bicep and waggled his eyebrows. It was very awkward and unimpressive but Jensen looked like a fair maiden ready to swoon.

Plan SneakSen was going very well.

“Welp, best hurry up guys! Go on and fetch us our ice cream!” Smoothie shooed the two lovebirds out of their seats, trying not to look too smug.

“Fine, fine. Fucking hell, man…” Jensen grimaced.

They both left the c9 house, waving Smoothie off their backs.

Contractz, Impact and Ray stayed happily oblivious, just pleased to be getting the sundaes.

Smoothe leaned against the doorway and watched his two subjects.

“My kiddos. So proud.”

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

The trip to the store and buying the ice cream was fairly uneventful. Sneaky did his best not to be too awkward, but he couldn’t help but steal glances over at Jensen. He looked so peaceful, staring out the rainy window, his face serene.

He was wearing his nerdy glasses.

They were illegally cute, perched on his tiny nose and enlarging his pretty blue eyes.

Sneaky bit back a lovestruck grin that threatened at his mouth.

The tension was definitely there, but Jensen seemed to be steadfastly ignoring it, pushing through the conversations that started with eye contact but ended up with both of their gazes flicking down towards lips.

Yeah, Sneaky was having a pretty damn hard time here.

Fuck Smoothie.

Well, actually scratch that. That was his plan for Jensen already.

Sneaky couldn’t believe it when they arrived back at the gaming house, the trip already over. With nothing achieved. Smoothie was going to fucking kill him.

But what was he going to do? Jensen wasn’t giving him any signs. He seemed to have reverted to his more serious self and Sneaky was a fucking coward. He could not bring himself to say a single word.

So hey, bro I’m kinda in love with you?

Wanna bang, Jensen?

I think you’re really fucking hot dude, in a full homo kind of way, just letting you know.

Yeah, that wasn’t happening.

Sneaky sighed as he parked the car.

It was pouring rain outside and Jensen frowned as he glanced at the downpour with distaste.

“Wanna make a run for it?” Sneaky said.

“Hrm. Fine. Although I don’t want to get fucking wet.”

Sneaky grinned. “Are you a cat, Jensen?”

The mid-laner stared at him impassively before bringing up a hand and giving a half-hearted paw at the air.

“Maybe I am. So. Nya.” He dead-panned.

Sneaky almost melted right there as he fell a little deeper in love with this idiot.

“Get the fuck out there,” Sneaky laughed, pushing at Jensen’s shoulder.

The two of them dashed out of the car, slamming the doors behind them. Jensen clutched the bag with the ice cream to his chest.

The collapsed against the door under the safety of the porch, but the damage was done. They both were soaked to the bone.

“Ah, fuck,” Jensen muttered.

Sneaky turned to him and almost died.

Jensen’s hair was soaking wet and fell over one eye, rainwater dripping off his pale eyelashes.

His black t-shirt was plastered to his body with water, outlining his lithe form.

Sneaky swallowed hard, his throat suddenly very dry.

Jensen snatched off his glasses and began rubbing them furiously with his shirt, but only succeeded in getting them wetter than ever.

“Fucking boosted glasses…” Jensen growled. He gave up and glanced up at Sneaky.

Who then realized that they were standing very, very close.

Jensen blinked.

Sneaky could see just how blue his eyes were in the monotone grey of the stormy afternoon.

A single droplet of water fell from his eyelashes.

Sneaky followed its glittering path down Jensen’s flawlessly creamy cheek,

down,

all the way to his lips.

The bead of water glistened on Jensen’s bottom lip.

“Sneaky…Zach…” Jensen said, voice barely a whisper in the thundering rain.

Sneaky didn’t even realize he was leaning in until his chest bumped against Jensen’s. He could feel his burning warmth through their cold, wet shirts.

“Fuck.” Was all Sneaky got out before he closed the gap between him and his mid-laner.

It was beyond exhilarating to finally feel Jensen’s mouth on his and to Sneaky’s utter surprise, Jensen was reciprocating the kiss.

His mouth was moving against his, slow and sweet, burning against Sneaky’s lips and he knew that he was done for.

Jensen slipped a hand through Sneaky’s dampened mop of hair, pulling the ADC closer and Sneaky happily obliged, cupping his hands around Jensen’s slender face.

He vaguely registered a thumping noise as Jensen dropped the bag of ice cream and his glasses in favor of clutching onto Sneaky as the kiss deepened.

“Jensen…” Sneaky murmured breathily between kisses and Jensen nipped at his lower lip with a little growl.

It was by far the hottest thing Sneaky had ever experienced in his life.

Every part of Sneaky’s body burned where he touched Jensen and his heart soared with the feeling of love, happiness and completion.

Gentle kisses turned to fiery passion as Jensen’s tongue brushed against Sneaky’s bottom lip, asking for permission.

Sneaky gladly granted him it.

Jensen took control of the kiss and Sneaky felt a bit weak at his knees. Jensen was the fucking best kisser ever, positively mouth-fucking Sneaky with his tongue.

Things were getting heated and Sneaky moaned against Jensen’s mouth, pulling him even closer.

“Hey, where’s the fucking–HOLY SHIT!”

“Fuck!” Jensen and Sneaky both shouted, jumping away from each other as Contractz flung the door open.

“OH MY GOD OH MY GOD FUUCCCKKKK–” Contractz gaped at them, staring at their mussed up hair, swollen lips and bright red faces.

“FUCKING CONTRACTZ WHAT THE FUCKING–Hvad fanden er der galt med dig, tag kæften ud!” Jensen shouted and then threw the bag of ice cream at Contractz.

“GOD I’M SO SORRY GUYS OH MY GO–”

Jensen slammed the door in his face.

Sneaky stared.

“So. Where were we?” Jensen asked calmly.

#submission #fan work #Sneaksen fic #thefandomambassador #THANK YOU FOR SENDING #SO CUTE #MOAR PLEASE #XD

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arnavsinghraizada · 7 years

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The Darkest Knight - Part 2

@phati-sari guess what’s finally done????? THAT’S RIGHT. IT’S PART 2.

Find Part 1 in my index! Also, I know I said that this would be three parts but i lied, it’s gonna be much longer most likely.

ENJOY!

“Tell me again why I had to come with you?”

Arnav cast a sidelong glance at his younger brother who was sulking in the corner of the limousine, glaring darkly at him every couple of moments.

“You wanted to be Robin so badly, didn’t you?” He scoffed, feeling a smug delight in Dhruv’s answering groan.

“That’s crime fighting, bhai. That doesn’t mean I have to double as your wingman.” Dhruv quipped, before a devilish smirk lit up his features, and Arnav’s heart immediately sank in response.

“Whatever you’re about to say -” Arnav began steadily, pointing a warning finger in the brat’s direction only to be interrupted almost immediately.

“But then again, I would only be a wingman if you had even the slightest chance with her. To her, you’re about as attractive as Himesh Reshammiya in a speedo.”

“I have no idea who that is.” Arnav snapped, turning to stare stubbornly out the window as he saw Dhruv shudder out of the corner of his eye.

“Well… lucky you.”

The remainder of the ride was spent in silence, well about as silent as the car could be with Dhruv being upset about having to tag along.

“But bhaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii I don’t even do any work, why do I have to go?”

“It’s not fair. That Gupta always says mean things to me just because I’m related to you and I can’t even tell her off cause then you’ll say mean things to me!”

“Bhai if you don’t let me out, I’ll jump out of this car, I REFUSE TO LIVE LIKE THIS!”

He loved his brother. He loved his brother. He. Loved. His. Brother. Men who loved their little brothers didn’t drop kick them out of moving cars. No matter how much they might deserve it.

“Fine, ignore me all you want. But if your girlfriend is mean to me and I make her cry, which I will, don’t come and -”

“Dhruv,” Arnav interrupted, finally turning to face him, “you know very well if you say a single word to her, I will beat you in front of her and make you apologize.”

Dhruv’s face twisted like he had swallowed a lemon, and he scooted towards Arnav with an affronted gasp.

“You would hit me for her?!” He cried.

“In a heartbeat.”

“What- bhai -”

“Come. We’re here.” Arnav pressed on, patting Dhruv, who was lying on the seat beside him now dramatically wailing about having no one in the world to call his own, on the head before exiting the limo.

When the brothers emerged, stepping into the rapidly flashing bulbs of press cameras, they were picturesque. Tall, handsome, and dressed in black, the Raizada brothers lived up to their image of ‘the perfect playboys.’ Nevermind that Arnav would be more likely to pay a woman to stay far away from him and never speak to him than sleep with him, and Dhruv had a romantic streak that could put Shah Rukh Khan to shame.

Arnav’s heart leapt into his throat when he caught sight of a familiar face laughing at something someone was saying to her. There were times when he couldn’t even believe that she was real and not just a figment of his lonely imagination. And now, when she was bathed in light from the cameras around her, her long hair flowing down her back in soft curls, dressed in his favourite colour to boot, was one of those instances.

She disappeared inside the venue then, flanked by her colleagues, and Arnav had to fight the urge to immediately follow after her when he realized he was surrounded by reporters screaming for his attention.

“ASR! ASR!”

‘My name is Arnav,’ he wanted to scream, his hands fisting in his pockets. ‘ASR is who all of you have decided I am. Who you’ve turned me into.’

“If your internal monologue is finished, bhai,” Dhruv hedged, leaning slightly in his direction to whisper the words, “then can we go inside? Someone just said there’s chilli chicken in there and you know how I feel about chilli chicken -”

Silencing him with a single look, Arnav signalled to Aman, who immediately began to clear a path for the brothers. He barely managed to resist the urge to fix his hair, check whether his tie was straight, and primp his appearance in anticipation of seeing her.

As if she would even glance twice at him. He wondered whether she would like him more if she took the opportunity to look past the facade of ASR and actually acquaint herself with Arnav. A large part of him pointed out that his personality shone through in his other form and she didn’t seem to mind him then.

‘She likes you,’ A voice in his head whispered soothingly, ‘just not what you’ve made her believe you are.’

When he walked inside, Aman was immediately whispering introductions in his ear, telling him who he needed to meet and who he needed to talk to first, in order of importance. Despite any of his warnings, or even Dhruv’s cautioning hand on his shoulder, Arnav found himself drawn in her direction. She wasn’t looking at him, at least not yet, but he saw her freeze as he approached, and the air around them seemed to thicken with something. She turned slowly, eyes locking with his, and he could have sworn a bolt of lightning surged through him.

“Mr. Raizada!” Diljot Bedi, editor in chief of The Post, crowed, obstructing his view of Khushi as he surged forwards to grasp his hand. “A pleasure, really. An absolute pleasure.”

He thought he must have nodded - or something - in response to the man, but his eyes were still looking beyond the portly man at the vision standing behind him. She had yet to turn away from him again, her eyes uncharacteristically soft. That wasn’t to say he hadn’t seen the look before. He had, plenty of times, but as Batman, never as Arnav. Khushi seemed to come back to herself with a jolt when the sound of her boss’s chortling laughter reached her. She glanced quickly in his direction and then back at Arnav with something akin to nervousness flashing through her gaze.

Well he didn’t like that. Whatever was making her feel like she had to be on tiptoes around him rather than her usual painfully cruel self, had to be dealt with immediately.

“Mr. Bedi, I saw a rather interesting piece in your paper earlier today.”

Arnav flashed a warning look at Dhruv, realizing the problem at hand immediately, his mind flashing back to Khushi’s article from that morning.

Mr. Bedi seemed to be thinking along the same lines, the notion hurried along by Dhruv’s icy remark. He immediately gave a small, awkward laugh before throwing a sharp look in Khushi’s direction.

“Well you see -”

“My brother has an admirable amount of patience, dealing with the kind of mindless, slanderous garbage being printed about him, but I can’t say I’m of the same stock, myself.”

The words were chosen deliberately, aimed to intimidate, and when Bedi paled, Arnav knew they had hit their mark. He was content to let Bedi squirm, the man meant nothing to him, but a glance at Khushi found her hands clenched tightly by her sides, her eyes glued to the floor but he knew if she looked up now, he’d see a sheen of angry tears there.

“A pity how just anyone can call themselves a journalist nowadays.” Dhruv said softly, and Arnav didn’t need to be looking at his brother to know he was staring directly at Khushi now. Her cheeks flushed and something primal, and deeply protective, rose up in him in response.

“That’s enough.”

Dhruv’s gaze snapped over to him, the beginnings of a snarl painted on his face, but Arnav grasped his shoulder firmly, smiling wryly for the benefit of the people around them.

“I’m sure, little brother, that you’ll agree how important freedom of the press is. If journalists,” he said, stressing the word and locking eyes with Khushi again, “bow to private corporations, then who will hold us accountable?”

In his peripheral vision, he saw Bedi give a noticeable sigh of relief at his comments. Khushi continued to stare at him for a moment before she looked away with a small scoff, and Arnav knew his intervention tonight had won him no brownie points with her.

“Gracious as always, Mr. Raizada.” the man crooned, moving forwards to shake his hand again.

Seemingly unwilling to give the younger Raizada another chance to lay into him, Bedi excused himself, hurrying off in the direction of the bar, where Arnav was sure the man would have several drinks to calm himself down.

Arnav looked at the group of The Post employees standing in front of him, whispering amongst themselves with careful looks in his direction, and Khushi standing in front of them, pretending she didn’t even see him, and decided that he might have done enough damage for the night. He fixed Dhruv with a look that told him just how displeased he was with his behaviour and moved away from the group. He had just reached the other side of the room when a hand reached out and grabbed his forearm. Unwilling as he was to talk to anyone right now, he could have just torn his arm free and kept moving, but there was something very familiar in the small hand that held on to him, and an even more familiar feeling coursing through him from the contact.

Khushi.

“I bet you’re so pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” She growled and he allowed himself the feeling of her hand on his arm for a moment longer before he displaced it when he turned to face her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Miss Gupta.” Arnav said quietly, willing himself to stay calm in the face of the nonsense she was about to throw at him.

Her eyes flashed up at him and she wrapped her arms around herself in a protective gesture before she spoke again. “Arnav Singh Raizada, always playing the hero.” she sneered, and his heart lurched in his chest.

You’re closer to the mark than you’ll ever know.

“I bet you were just waiting for an excuse to swoop in there and make yourself look so gracious and benevolent, not wanting my head on a platter. You don’t even have a heart! Acting like you care about what happens to anyone besides yourself.”

Arnav felt his lips twist into a snarl despite himself, a deep, throbbing sort of pain erupting in his chest at her callous words. “And why would I do that?” He hissed, watching her blink in surprise at his sudden anger.

“I intervened to ensure that Bedi didn’t fire you just to appease my idiot of a brother. Your problems with me are your own, Miss Gupta, and I invite you to continue to present them to the masses, bellowed through a goddamn megaphone if it suits you, but do not endeavour to tell me why I do the things I do.”

Straightening, he fixed her with one last stony glare before turning towards the exit and striding through the crowd. When he reached the doors, he found Dhruv standing there waiting, a cautious expression on his face.

“What? Aren’t you happy now?” Arnav snapped, feeling a grim sort of pleasure when Dhruv flinched.

“It’s not fair that she gets off with saying that kind of stuff about you, bhai.” He ground out, glaring over Arnav’s shoulder and he didn’t have to look back to know the source of his brother’s ire.

“What difference does it make to you what she thinks of me, Dhruv?” Arnav groaned tiredly. “I’m the one who likes her, I’ll just have to deal with it.”

He patted Dhruv on the shoulder, moving past him towards the car when his younger brother’s whisper stopped him in his tracks.

“She doesn’t even know you. Not the real you. Where does she get off criticizing my brother when she doesn’t even give him a chance?” His eyes were fixed on the ground, one foot scuffing the ground errantly in a ridiculously expensive shoe, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Oh so this was your way of trying to be my big brother, was it?” Arnav asked softly, wrapping an arm around Dhruv’s shoulders with a small laugh. He didn’t answer, choosing instead to shove half-heartedly at his older brother. “You leave the worrying to me, understand?”

Dhruv muttered something under his breath, ducking out from under Arnav’s arm with a small grin and heading off to the car. He could feel her eyes on him still, and the knowledge that he had thrown her off tonight, even so slightly, was enough to give him the strength to walk out without looking back at her.

Khushi’s heart clenched as she watched Arnav walk out of the gala without looking back at her even once.

Why should you want him to look at you? A snide part of her hissed and she felt as if a bucket of cold water had been dropped over her head. She didn’t want him to notice her, didn’t want him to speak up on her behalf, didn’t want anything to do with him.

Then why, she wondered, did her heart ache at the thought that he was upset with her. He hadn’t been upset with her when she had written the article, not when she made snide remarks - but today, today he had been upset. Today she had managed to become a splinter under the great ASR’s skin.

But why was she the one hurting?

#ipkknd #iss pyaar ko kya naam doon #arshi #arnav singh raizada #khushi kumari gupta #ipkknd ff #arshi ff #batman au #mine

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