Electronic Darling || Yandere!Mobster X F!Reader

꒰ 15 ꒱

Sure, you dragged your feet whenever it was time to stream, but you found that you genuinely had a good time playing Kirby for an audience. Well, it was despite the audience most of the time... But, still, Kirby made up for most of your discomfort.

You'd eventually have to find something to do on stream other than game, though. From creeping around on your friends' streams, you found they usually stuck to at least a couple different activities.

Mac streamed her art in addition to talks about the latest novel she'd read, almost like an online book club. Aun tested new recipes and showed the progress she'd made on her most recent crafts project. And Gworl did GRWMs and --strangely enough-- fitness streams, where she answered questions in chat while running on an elliptical. That last one sounded like cruel and unusual punishment.

Therefore, it made sense for you to try to stream at least one other thing. You considered experimenting with your makeup but felt weird being bare-faced in front of your fans. What if they decided you were ugly and unsubscribed? Giovanna would undoubtedly not be pleased with that. You were supposed to be growing your fan base, not diminishing it!

That was future-you's problem, though. Dwelling too long on the future was a mistake you'd made too many times since you became an e-darling. After all... In all likelihood, said-future was being confined to this two-bedroom apartment for the rest of your days. You needed to focus on the present.

And, as if to call you back to the present, there was a knock on your door. You tiptoed up to the peephole and peered through it. Giovanna. Honestly, who else would it be? But still, what was she doing here?

You much preferred talking to her over the phone, even knowing she was probably watching you through the cameras in your apartment each time she called. Every interaction with the mobster running this little show made you shake and sweat. Your life rested in her hands, and --intentionally or not-- she wasn't going to let you forget it.

Steeling your resolve, you hurriedly undid your locks and opened the door. "Hello?" You said. Well, asked. Semantics.

"Hello," she replied with a slow, serpentine blink. She was dressed in a suit again, but this one was five pieces, with a shirt that buttoned up to her neck. Her hands were casually stuck into her trouser pockets. She rocked back in her dress shoes once. "May I come in?"

God, was that even a question? You basically had no other choice but to let her in. But you had enough brains and self-preservation instincts not to say as much. Instead, you stepped aside and motioned her inside with a little sweep of your arm.

"Can I get you anything?" You asked, already hoping that the answer was no, that she'd say she was just passing through, counting her chickens. "Something to drink, maybe?"

"No. I don't suppose you have anything stronger than Ramune," she snorted. Then she turned and looked at you --really looked at you-- for a moment. "How are you? Doing okay? Adjusting well?"

She must be in a good mood or have some extra time on her hands if she was making small talk rather than cutting straight to the point.

"I'm alright. Thanks for asking," you replied, unsure what to do with this extra attention. "And you?"

"Good, good..." But she sounded distracted. "Congratulations on reaching almost five thousand fans. You're on your way to becoming a real money-maker."

You blinked stupidly at that number. You hadn't really been paying attention to your fan count. Doing so made you so nervous that it was near impossible to perform. All that weight, all those expectations... You thought fan bases grow linearly, not exponentially. Still, the real question was...

"What kind of yanderes are watching my stuff?"

She hummed. "You can see for yourself by checking your channel analytics... But I'll give you the gist of it, since I looked it over just now. Of your subscribers, 46% are Protective, 33% are Obsessive, and 21% are Possessive."

You could relax a little, knowing you'd dodged a bullet and not attracted a lot of Possessives. Still, you found it odd that most of your fans were Protectives and not Obsessives. Obsessives were the most common, after all... Both on the site and in the real world.

"It's a pretty good distribution," she continued. "You really lucked out. God knows it wasn't talent. You're coasting on your style right now..."

"I'm sorry," you murmured, lowering your gaze.

"Eh, don't be." She shrugged nonchalantly. "Most e-darlings do in the beginning. You'll get the hang of it after a while."

At a loss for what to say after that, you said nothing at all, just nervously shifted your weight back and forth between your two feet. From the quick once-over she gave you, you could tell she noticed you were anxious, but she didn't point it out.

Eventually, she exhaled long and hard from her nose. "Anyway, I'm staying here tonight," she said, quickly, like she was pulling off a bandaid.

And she might as well have for how you jumped. "Wait, what?! Why?!"

Another shrug. "I visit all my e-darlings from time to time. You boys and girls get real fucking antsy and do dumb shit when left alone for too long."

She wasn't wrong about your restlessness. It had only been two weeks, and you already found yourself fidgeting more than normal and pacing your rooms on occasion. It was too much to hope that she hadn't noticed either.

"What would we even do?"

"I noticed you eat a lot --like, a lot a lot-- of delivery... Even though you have a well-stocked fridge and pantry. So, you and I are going to make something together. Then we'll eat and watch something on TV until it's time for bed."

"I only have one bed in this apartment," you said, crossing your fingers that she was going to be chivalrous and volunteer to sleep on the couch.

No such luck. "That's why we're going to share." She slipped out of her jacket and carefully draped it over one of the chairs at the kitchen table. Then she started rolling up the sleeves of her dress shirt. "But enough about that. Let's get started on dinner."