Temperamental- Yandere Geto X fem reader
Heian era Japan AU
Contains - master servant dynamics, possessive behaviour, abuse - he really is an ass in here,
You have never seen him so angry.
Your master was a temperamental man at the best of times; you had learnt to avoid him during his rages. Only now it doesn't do anything when you're the one he calls upon to soothe him, leaving your other work to fall on someone else as you scurry to his side. Most of the other servants have learnt what the relationship between you and the master has become; it is not as though he is inconspicuous within his own manor, calling on you to tend to him as he wishes. But who would say anything? The majority of them pity you, seeing the bruises across your body when you're in the baths, and the others just look at you as if you had been the one to seduce him in the first place. Anyone who had the power to speak up about your treatment simply doesn't care enough about you to do so. What noble would turn their head slightly towards the well-being of an indentured servant? It is not as though you could even run to your family, them being the ones that sold you into the lord's manor as a maid while you were a child, in exchange for one less mouth to feed and to be forgiven for their rent for the next year. You try not to dwell on that fact, that perhaps if you hadn't had this misfortune of becoming a servant, you would have only become the wife to some other farmer. At least your lord keeps you fed and dressed in silk- if only for his own pleasure. The kind of man who would feed his lapdog the same meat obtained for his plate.
You suppose you occupy that position of a coveted pet. Running to his call in order to keep his rage from tearing through the manor, leading to your fellow servants to be in the wake of his wrath. You haven't been the only person left with marks from him, just the only one to gain those marks in his bedchamber. The only one to receive an apology afterwards. He doesn't keep other maidservants in his bed, nor does he have a wife or concubine for you to compete with. You assume that when he does eventually marry and secure his position as head of the household, you'd be quietly put to serve his wife if she doesn't make too much of a fuss, that her husband still keeps his favourite toy within close reach.
When you come to the door to his chambers, you knock, announcing yourself at the entrance. The last time you made the mistake of coming in without warning, he nearly hit your head with the porcelain vase he threw at the disturbance.
“You called for me, master Geto?” Your voice echoes almost pathetically in silence as the clattering inside stops. You wait a few moments before allowing yourself to enter the bedchambers. It is not as great a mess as it could be. Your master is a man in the habit of taking his anger out on whatever is closest to him; it is the priceless decorations that tend to bear the brunt, mostly when you aren't in the room. His long, dark hair is down, fallen from his top knot during his rage, his robes are loose and open at his chest, and you try to keep your gaze lowered before he permits you to meet his eyes.
“That I did.” his voice is gruff, while you’re lucky to have not been present during the initial burst of his anger, it is still flowing from him in waves. “Come in properly, do not linger at the door like a stray dog,” he orders. You follow suit, walking properly into the room and kneeling in your regular spot before the tea table. Geto takes the seat opposite from you, pointing down at a scroll which has been set in place for your arrival. “I will give you the chance to explain this to me.” You still, unknowing what his rationale is behind the order that he has given.
“I cannot read, my lord,” you say as softly as you can. He already knows this, so why would he put the scroll before you as if he expects you to understand the scribbles it contains? If only to remind you how much more he is than you.
“Of course you cannot, I was only giving you the chance to explain to me why you are mentioned by another man in this letter to me. A man who was a previous guest of mine.”
Your face pales as you realise the understanding that your master has drawn from this, when some few months previously, he had a guest from the capital arrive. A man who in comparison to master Geto was far more easy going and even empered during his stay, he was an attractive man but in the sense that it was unnatural for a human being to look so perfected as he did, a beauty that seemed to repulse just as much as it could draw someone in to stare uneadnibg at his eyes as blue as a blacksmiths flame.
“Why, pray tell, would he mention how sweet he found my little attendant, scurrying into my room as quickly as I called her, like some scared dog? Asking if I could let him borrow you into his chambers the next time he darkens my doorway?” Geto grabs your chin, nails digging into the soft underside of your flesh, drawing a squeal of pain from you with something akin to satisfaction in his eyes as he continues.
“I always thought that for all your faults, at the very least I could count on your loyalty to me. But now I see I may have been mistaken and that you just bat your pretty eyes at whatever man is foolish enough to give you the time of day.”
“I didn't master I swear it,” you plead as you feel his nails dig in deeper, “I swear to you I would never look at another man when I am nothing but your humble servant, please, I beg you.”
His fingers shift, the touch becoming firm but no longer painful as he gives out a small hum.
“Perhaps that fool only just meant to taunt me, to threaten to take something very precious out from under me. Maybe I came to a false conclusion too quickly. Of course that bastard would want to wind me up like this, making me doubt my precious maid.” Getoloosens his fingers, moving his hand to tenderly stroke your face as though there aren't little indents underneath your chin which well with blood.
“He was most likely hoping that I would discard you, allow him to take my leftovers. He wouldn't be the only one who wishes that I give you up, too many annoying fools who think they know better for me and my house, give me their unasked for opinion that it would be best if I grew out of our little attachment. That I should find some well-bred wife and have well-bred heirs,” he tilts your head, “ what do you think, you're the only one who has ever seen me so candidly, surely you must have an opinion.”
You know full well, Geto doesn't really want your opinion in this matter, only an answer which will manage to entertain him. He wants to see how far you can go within the realms of your position. He comes over to your side of the table, laying his head in your soft lap, ordering you to speak with a wave of his hand.
“You are the lord of this house,” you mumble softly, running your fingers through his long hair, carefully scratching his scalp until he groans. “No one has the right the give you any orders, they can only hope to advise you based upon what they believe to be the best, but that does not meean that they know better than you.” you pause unsure of what to say next, he opens one eye expectantly as you still.
“Go on,” he orders, “then tell me what you would best advise me from your own position,” he smirks, “you may be candid.”
“If you were to take a wife then my position will be in danger,” you say the words he has been expecting from you, “but my position as a servant is no matvvh to the importance that a wife would hold for the sake of the house, for your power to be consolidated their is both a need for alliance as well as for children. And if those who advise you believe that my presence is distracting you from finding a bride, they are not unfounded in their anxieties for the sake of the house.” You try your best to say nothing that could upset him or potentially rock the boat.
“So do you believe I should discard you for some noble?”He hums, amused at the turn your conversation is taking.
“I don't want to lose your favour,” Geto stills in your hands as the mumbled confession makes its way past your lips, “But I have no position to be selfish when all the privileges I've received have come from your attention.” despite his rages, he has his gentleness to. You have become plump from the sweets he has slipped past your lips and warm from the silk he has made into your robes, with an opulence that clearly marks you as his. But it's an opulence you have never before felt until you caught his eyes. Without it, you don't know how you'd survive.
“No, you really have no position to be selfish.” Geto pulls himself up on his knees, pushing you down until your back hits the floor, and he straddles above you. The dark silken curtain of his hair drapes over the both of you as he hovers a breath away from your face. “But I can be as selfish as I want,” he leans down, kissing you until your lungs cry for air.
“Do you think if I put an heir in you, they'll be satisfied I've taken a concubine and will stop pestering me to find a bride?”
