warnings: this is absolutely fictional!! i have no idea what sitetampo was like before he appeared in tournaments
a/n: i love how this sitetampo guy suddenly became popular for whatever reason and now everyone's tryna find fanfics of him, including me
It wasn't written in your life to be dating an obsessed gamer.
In school, he was the kid that sits at the back of the class with his head resting on the table. People would think he's taking a nap but no. You saw him and the light flashing his face. He was playing video games on his phone. You weren't sure what game it was but by the looks of it, it seems intense. His fingers smashing on the screen to the point his shoulders were vibrating.
And when he finished the game, his head rose and he'll lean back in his chair, stretching while brushing off his bangs from his face, revealing the red dent on his forehead and some sweat.
You giggled a little but he heard it. He looked at you and you looked away. This gave a bad impression of you. He thinks you're one of those girls that laughs at him for being a certified 'loser'. But it was the opposite, you got giddy not just because of the redness on his forehead or the sweat, it was because he looked damn good when he leaned back to his chair with a sigh of relief.
The next day, he still had his head on the table. Still an intense game you guessed. You tried to get a peek of what game he's playing but it was hard to see it from your seat. You only saw bright colors from the screen.
And again, when he raised his head, his eyes made contact with yours and once again, you looked away.
He's starting to get uncomfortable with you meanwhile you overthink what game he's playing that was so intense for him.
And again, the next day, he played games like usual with that same concerning posture of his. But this time, you brought a napkin with you from home and approached him.
"Hey."
He looked up. His small eyes looked so cute to you even when they're hidden behind his bangs that you feel like you want to brush it away or cut it off because it seemed like it hurt his eyes but frustratingly, he looks so good like this too.
You put the fluffy folded napkin on his table close to the edge, where he usually rests his forehead.
"You're gonna get a dent if you keep sitting like that. Also, don't your shoulders hurt from that posture?"
"If I don't, I'll get caught," he said, talking about hiding himself for playing games in class, but he started to stretch when you mention his shoulders. He decided to ignore you and continue playing when you have nothing left to say.
"What game are you playing?"
"Brawl Stars."
"What's it about?"
He took his sweet time in answering this but his thumbs are smashing the screen before he groaned out as he raised his head again. You saw the word 'defeated' plastered huge on the screen. His look of disappointment on you did not go unnoticed.
"It's like a battle, match, thingy. Shoot other people down and be the last one standing."
"Is it fun?"
"Yeah, I guess."
But his actions were very contradicting to his words right now.
It's been years already since that day, and now he's in his fourth Brawl Stars Tournament. You never thought Brawl Stars was such a serious game to be put in as an eSports competition, not to mention live on TV.
But here you are, in the crowds along with other Crazy Raccoon fans cheering for his team. You can't believe how far he's gone from being a kid who loves to play video games in the back of the class to last year's world champion who once again entered for this year, placing 2nd after HMBLE. His team may didn't get the winning streak however, you're honestly still proud of him no matter what.
Back in your shared apartment, he already took a shower and landed in your also shared queen-sized bed next to you. His eyes wants to sleep but his mind and obsession wants to play games again. But of course, desires are stronger than needs. He chose his phone and propped himself on the bed with his leg crossed on the other. You watch him tap on the skull icon and flipped his phone in landscape. Your head found its way nuzzled in the joint of his neck and shoulder. His blond hair tickling your face a little, you can smell his shampoo.
"Is it fun?" You ask.
"Yeah." Ever since you're dating him, he has become more expressive towards you. He's not scared of showing his emotions, of how honestly excited he is to talk about his favorite games.
While he's on his first match, you quietly installed the same game on your phone and also flipped your phone to landscape. The familiar sound of the game company made him spin his head to your phone screen. He couldn't hold back his laughter seeing you finally picking up on the game he's been playing for years. He never asked you to play it with him because he doesn't want to trouble you but deep inside, he wanted that to happen; you and him on the same team.
He watches you instead, doing the tutorial until finally you can add friends so he tells you to add him. He invites you to the same lobby and you both played a few rounds. It doesn't matter if you sucked at it or are good at it, the action of you playing his favorite game—playing with him, especially—is what makes him love you more. The whole time, he had stupid a smile on his face that he couldn't stop himself.
c/w: gender neutral reader, sfw, domestic fluff, reader has long hair, reader is a bit of a menace, not beta read
a/n: i got all my information about sitetampo from his streams and japanese fandom sites but i'm not 100% fluent in japanese yet. so if you find something that i got wrong please tell me!
„How dare you?“
“Hm?“, Sitetampo looked up at you. You just came out of the shower now standing in the doorway from the bathroom to your shared bedroom. His thumb stops swiping on his phone, while his other hand was still roughly rubbing his freshly bleached hair dry with a towel, „was the hot water empty i promise-„
“It‘s not about the water, it‘s about this“ you point at the way he is drying his hair, pouting, „this is terrible. And your shampoo is terrible, and your conditioner is stretched with water!“
Sitetampo drops his towel, and it carelessly falls onto his shoulder, his mind racing why this was suddenly a problem. „I‘m sorry?“
„You should be“ you grumble, a little over the top, before walking back into the bathroom, carefully pressing your hair with a towel, to dry it without breaking.
Sitetampo stays seated on the bed before he decides to follow you, playing into your antics. He pops his head through the door, „babe, what exactly am I sorry for again?“
Without looking away from yourself in the mirror, you push your bottle of hair oil into his eyesight, „what it that?“ He looks at you confused. „That's it. This is what you are sorry for“, you pout again and start massaging the hair oil into your ends, hoping to soothe your hair that has been stressed from the dry air lately.
“I‘m super sorry, for not knowing what hair products you use?“ He tries with a small smile and stands next to you in front of the mirror. Picking up his hairbrush, an old plastic brush that has definitely seen better days.
Disapprovingly you look at that sad excuse of a hairbrush, “You are not brushing your wet hair with that thing right?“
“I always brush my hair with that“ even though he was aware of you just teasing, slowly your antics made him feel defensive about his almost non existent hair routine.
“And that's the problem, you rub your hair dry, you bleach it every month, you use the cheapest shampoo you can find and your conditioner is 90% water at this point. And it still is that healthy, and shiny, and pretty.“ you complain with just the slightest smile, no longer able to keep up the front, washing the leftover hair oil from your hands,
Your favourite laugh fills the room, „just let me get this right“, he smiles at you, finally getting behind your fake-pouty mood, „you are mad at me, because you think that I have nice hair?“
“No, I‘m mad at you because you have nice hair without trying.“ You finally turn to him now full on pouting again. „And that's just not fair.“
“You are so right, the universe chose the wrong person to give healthy hair to, it should have been you“, Sitetampo steps behind you, laying his hands on your hips, keeping eye contact with you through the mirror. His eyes are fond, as he takes in your appearance.
“Now you get it“, you fake whine, a little giggle in your voice.
“I‘m so sorry for having perfect hair“, his voice is teasing but soft, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your skin.
“You better be“, you take one of his hands in yours squeezing it for a short moment, „can I brush it? I have a detangler for wet hair. And maybe some leave in conditioner?“
You can feel him nodding in your back, and he squeezes your hips again, „i think I gave myself a bird's nest while drying.“ His voice low as he admits his hair care faults.
“That's why you should press your hair dry.“ You laugh softly and he does too as he joins in.
“Teach me next time?“ An honest request.
You're endeared by his low voice and soft gestures, „of course. Now sit down in front of the couch, I grab my things.“ A kiss is pressed into the back of your neck that makes all the little hairs on your body stand up. Before he slowly steps away from you walking to your living room.
You join him just a couple of seconds later, seeing SItetampo sitting on the ground before the couch, a gameplay video of a brawls stars match running in his phone, before he switches to his football game and then to some messages, back to the gameplay, his brain back on the search of constant simulation. Suppressing another giggle you sit down behind him. He straightens his terrible posture a little as you start spraying the conditioner on his hair. „Tell me if I hurt you, yeah?“ Your fingers are already digging into his hair, softly massaging in the conditioner. He mumbles affirmatively, leaning into your touch. His phone forgotten, as soon as you start to gently brush his hair. His thumbs still for once.
The process is easy thanks to the conditioner and the unfairly good state his hair is in. Sitetampo fully leans into the soft strokes of the brush. „Are you actually angry about my hair?“
You almost missed his quiet question, lost in thought as your work through his hair, „of course not. I‘m just teasing.“
“I would shave it off for you“, he offers and you are unsure if he is actually joking about it.
“Don’t, you love your hair, I love your hair.“ His hair is detangled and you instead softly massage his upper neck now, pressing your fingers into his shoulders every now and then.
“I love you more“, it was not clear if Sitetampo was listening to himself right now, or if his brain had already turned into mush at the gentle treatment.
The smile on your lips is soft, and your body feels warm, with affection.
“No shaving, just a new conditioner.“ You can‘t help but tease him just one last time.
“Deal, but only if you brush my hair more often from now on.“
