Chapter Text
It's a cold winter's night here in the sleepy city of New Amsterdam. Snow is blanketing the streets and sidewalks, making travel almost impossible. Everyone has decided to stay indoors during the winter storm, and for one Ken Craftwell, he is one of the many who wants no part of it until after the storm is over.
Ken lives in a small two-bedroom apartment with his girlfriend, Amy. He's been home for a few months since his English teaching stint in Japan. So far the living setup has been going fine.
They've gotten into a routine and have everything they could possibly need to live comfortably despite it all. Ken sticks to tutoring while waiting for his next teaching assignment. Amy works at a diner and does something in his room every Friday night that she calls “business,” though Ken has no idea what she's up to. But in the back of his mind, it must be the reason why they do so well.
Just last week she bought herself a new purse all on her own. It was a designer one. With cute charms. When he asked her how she got it, she coyly said, “Oh, you know…this and that.”
This explanation drives him up the wall. Last night, it kept him up. “Onlyfans?” He thought to himself… “Camwhoring?”
So night, as she is taking a long bath, now would be the best time to investigate. As soon as the door to the bathroom shuts, Ken gets up from the sofa and makes his way to her bedroom.
A part of him know this is a huge invasion of her privacy, and that he may not like the answers. But this is the only way he can put his mind at rest.
He quietly closes the door behind him and turns on the light to her bedroom. The color pink jumps out at him from all corners—soft pastel walls glowing under fairy lights strung like stars, a fluffy pink rug underfoot, and RGB strips behind the desk pulsing in gentle lavender and bubblegum hues.
Cute dolls and plushies are everywhere: a mountain of them spilling across her big bed with its heart-patterned duvet, squishy cat-ear pillows, oversized anime chibis hugging each other, and a few limited-edition figures perched on the headboard like silent audience members.
On the nightstand sits a framed photo of the two of them smiling at some festival, flanked by smaller Polaroids of just him—sweet, almost shrine-like.
Her computer is turned on, the screen saver swirling with pastel anime art. A cute pink mechanical keyboard glows softly, matched by a matching pink controller resting beside it and oversized cat-ear headphones hooked on the monitor arm like a crown.
The closet door hangs slightly ajar, filled to the brim with costumes hanging in neat rows: classic cat girl getup with fluffy tail and bell collar, a frilly nurse outfit, seductive succubus lingerie with bat wings and horns, plus several recognizable anime character cosplays—school uniforms, magical girl dresses, maid ensembles—that Ken recognizes from late-night binge sessions they used to share.
The whole room smells faintly of vanilla candle and strawberry shampoo, warm and inviting, like stepping into a live-action version of one of her streams.
He knew this about Amy being a cosplayer, and nothing jumps out at him that says she's doing something nefarious. But it seems like she's just a streamer. A regular streamer. It's curious why she never told him, but he chalks it up to her probably being shy about geeky stuff like this. He takes a deep breath.
“Phew…”
He turns around to leave—and runs right into Amy. She stands there only covered in a fluffy pink towel, with her hands on her hips, looking up at him. Her cold gaze is enough to frighten Ken.
“Like, what are you doing in here, nerd?!”
“Amy!” Ken manages to choke out, his hands up in the air like a criminal being faced down by the police. “I-I-I was just… just wondering what you're doing tonight!” Ken was taught early on that honesty is the best policy. He doesn't have it in him to lie to her.
“…Tch, getting ready to stream, what else?” she says with a bashful edge, cheeks flushing a little as she tugs at her towel..
“Please don't take this as rude, but I never imagined you being a video game player.”
Amy rolls her eyes, but it's more playful than annoyed. “Okay, fine… it's how I've been able to afford this apartment and pay for college without drowning in loans. I stream in cute costumes, play games—sometimes badly on purpose because people find it funny—and chat with viewers. They gift subs, send donations for shout-outs, share my clips everywhere… it's basically free advertising. Nothing weird or creepy, I promise—no like, explicit stuff or anything. It's just fun gaming and cosplay. Guys watch for the cute vibes and the fails, and it helps me out a ton. Win-win, right?”
“…Wow,,” he says. He thinks on it for a second. “…But what about me?”
Amy softens, stepping closer and poking his chest lightly. “All gamer girls who stream have boyfriends, silly. They just… don't make a big deal about it on stream. It's not hiding-hiding, it's just keeping personal stuff separate so the weirdos don't get obsessed or whatever. You're still 8my favorite person, nerd boy. I just didn't want to drag you into the chat drama.”
“I see…” He seems a bit unsure about this..
“...And like, you can totally join if you want. To be honest, I think having two people on stream would be better.”
“No, it's just, I didn't know how you were making all this money, so I assumed…the worst.”
“Like what, Onlyfans??” Amy laughs. “Wow, like, I wouldn't camwhore by myself. I rather camwhore with you and make money way before stooping my brand that low!”
It takes a few seconds for Ken to process what she just said. His expression freezes, ears burning red as heat rushes up his neck. His body tenses—no way. She really suggested that. Words tangle on his tongue, and all he can manage is an awkward stammer at the suggestion
Amy pats his shoulder, her laugh soft and warm against the sudden quiet in the room. “I’m just teasing, nerd boy…” She lets the words hang for a beat, then tilts her head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “But hey, we’ve got time before the stream starts… what if we… pretend?”
Oh. Oh boy.
Ken feels the floor tilt under him. Amy’s light teasing has just stepped on a live wire, and now the air between them crackles with something new—half playful, half dangerous. Her suggestion lands like a spark in dry grass.
He shifts his weight, uncomfortable heat crawling up his neck. Swallowing hard, he manages a cautious, barely-there voice: “What… do you have in mind?”
“Hmmm… ah! I know exactly what we need!”
Amy disappears into her closet, rummaging with dramatic enthusiasm. Ken watches, holding his breath as she hums cheerfully to herself.
“Now where did I put it… where is it?” she sings out, clearly enjoying the suspense.
“Aha!”
She emerges in triumph, holding up two perfectly matching maid outfits—complete with cat ears.
And flashing the most mischievous grin Ken has ever seen.