A 1920s time period piece. I made this as historically accurate as I could. It is more historically inspired and set in London. This is for @justamegafan
Yandere 1920s Imagines: Parlor Maid
Yandere Socialite x Fem Maid Reader x Yandere Nobleman
TW: Wlw, internalized homophobia, messy love triangle between siblings (Not incest), bullying (mention), yandere behavior, abuse of power, uncomfortable situations, two emotionally constipated nobles, and unhealthy relationship dynamics
Duchess Frances and Duke William Monroe had always fought over toys and trinkets since they were young. These small squabbles never ended, even when they reached adulthood. Especially when they both had their sights set on you, the pretty little maid. Both siblings were incredibly competitive over you, their sweet, oblivious maid.
You had been with them since they were children since you were the daughter of a maid. And once you were a teen, you worked for the family too… and those two siblings made your life a living hell. You had no idea that they did such awful acts upon you for your utmost attention rather than sadistic pleasure, but how were you to know the truth? They merely learned love through what they observed between their cold parents.
Frances used to cut your hair without your permission and stuff the remnants into a tin under he bed, while William had a much stranger habit. He enjoyed keeping your dirty socks. They were both so strange to you as the years went on. What started at childish bullying turned into a strange dynamic they had with no other house servant.
When adulthood finally came, Frances Monroe became a diva. Unlike her war commander brother, who threw elaborate parties and had gaggles of women dancing on his arms, she’d flaunt her furs and jewelry amongst the party guests. And she made you, her maid, do her hair and makeup multiple times a day just so she could have your hands on her. Frances adored the attention she recieved from other women, but didn’t like the attention of men… the socialite didn’t quite understand why, but she gravitated towards you. You were the only one who indulged her every command and it made her feel special. Even though Frances failed to realize you didn’t quite have a choice.
Your hands were constantly making finger waves in her French bob. You swore your hands were in the permanent shape of the comb and your hands smelled constantly of sugar water. Yet Frances was never satisfied.
“Redo it. You can’t possibly think this hairstyle is acceptable for my party guests.” She’d tell you each time despite how good the hair looked. This was all to have your constant attention… and to keep you away from her older brother, William.
When you finally had free time, you’d be hounded by William who wanted you to fetch him all kinds of assortments. Whether it was drinks or snacks, he’d ask for them in bountiful amounts. Yet that wasn’t the worst part, the worst part was when William had you feed him and it was always a show.
William would beckon you over like a dog in front of so many people before he’d have you nearly straddling his lap to hand-feed him an appetizer or an olive from his martini. His blue eyes would be half lidded and dazed… like you were yet another woman he wanted as a conquest. It made you sick.
You hated those two spoiled brats. The hours you worked as a servant were so long and demanding and the pay? It was so low, you almost felt like a pet rather than a worker. You worked multiple jobs since the Monroes' cutback on servants in the manor. There were hardly any male servants due to the ongoing war… and you knew it was only a matter of time before one of the few men left in this house might try to put their hands on you. You had heard stories from other maids… and you had no interest in being a bed warmer and ultimately, known as a trollop it’s why you’ve been saving most of your checks. You needed enough for a ticket to sail across the Atlantic to America… maybe you’d find a better life in New York than working for this awful Duchy.
You sat up as you went to the hidden hole you had hidden under your mattress where you kept a metal tin full of shillings. You had about £14 that you’ve collected over three years. It’d be enough for a boat ticket… You only made about that much a year as a parlor maid. Which was more than what you made years ago. You were grateful for the meager pay rise because you were that much closer to freedom. You packed your tin back where it was before you made sure it was secure once more. The last thing you needed was for someone to discover this… you had been talking to a sailor for a few months now on getting on the hair and he promised you a spot if you ever truly needed it. You took great advantage of your looks to get what you wanted. And you were hopeful that he’d keep his word.
The days went on and you noticed William began to seek you out more and more. Whether it be to ask you to fetch him a beverage or to stand as close as possible beside you while you dusted. It unnerved you how he looked at you, yet the older maids could do nothing to help you.
“I’ll be going to war soon,” William told you softly. His blue eyes filled with longing. “…meet me in my room tonight.”
Frances angrily stormed into the room when one of the maids let it slip that William asked you that request. Her blue eyes were narrowed as her pin curls were still pinned to her head since she had waited all morning for you, specifically, to come to her room to take them out despite her having a personal maid.
“How dare you indulge my brother! You are to be at my beck and call, not his!” She huffed in annoyance, her pale cheeks flushed red. “I’m far better company than that sheik! Look at my hair! I need you to fix it.”
You obediently followed her to her room as she practically dragged you. Frances complained the entire time as you fixed her blonde bob for her. The socialite was leaning into your hands the whole time which made your job even more difficult. If only you looked up to see the dazed expression on her face, then you’d know how Frances really felt. Frances felt the feelings for you that a man would feel for a woman and that really upset her. Because Frances knew she could never truly have you. She’d have to marry a nobleman one day. Unless… She took you back with her.
It rained that night, but you quietly went to William’s room as he asked. You didn’t want to upset him since William had a worse temper than Frances, herself.
He was quick to wave you over to him as he sat in his chair. His blue eyes studied your form in an emotion you could only describe as reverence. Which was odd since he was a known ladies' man. Yet you never truly looked into whether or not he genuinely joined those ladies in his room. He was just a privileged elite in your eyes anyways.
“You’ve grown so beautiful.” William quietly told you, and his hand went to grab yours. His grip was as tight as the coils of a snake around its prey. “It’s not fair that my sister keeps you all to herself.”
The moment he went to try to pull you into his lap, you quickly tried to push away from him. His blue eyes widened before they became half-lidded. Did you enjoy teasing him? How naughty…
“I’m sorry, my lord. I hadn’t meant to offend you-“ William chuckled as he continued to let his hands roam your body. He had been holding back for so long but no other woman could get him quite as worked up as you did.
“Nonsense. I’m finally able to appreciate you and your beautiful body now that my father isn’t here. Do you know how hard it was to keep all the men away from you all these years? I didn’t want another man to ever touch you, sweetheart.” William smiled. “I’ve been carrying a torch for you for years and now I finally get to touch you.”
The moment he went to pull you in for a kiss, you shoved him before you fled. The Duke hardly had time to register what had just happened before he gave chase. If you glanced back, you would have see the expression of pure panic on his face. William had thought you liked him too… You had never lashed out like this before!
“Wait! Please-“
But you rushed into your room and took out that little tin full of money from under your mattress before you fled down the staircase. A few servants merely gave you a glance at first until they saw the young master chasing you. The room soon descended into pandemonium, which of course attracted Frances to exit her room in shock. Her blue eyes widened when she saw you rushing out the door in only your maid uniform and your little, metal tin.
“Wait! Where are you going?!” Frances soon descended the stairs as well, yet she wasn’t quick enough. You were out that door. Both siblings screamed for you over and over again, but you drowned them out.
You ran down the streets of London, grateful that you were a fifteen-minute run to the Tilbury port. You practically threw the money at the sailor you had spoken to for all these months to take you away this very instant, the poor man was practically at a loss with how inconsolable you were. Yet he allowed you onto the ship. You had escaped your hellish life as a servant for the Monroe Duchy… unaware that your nightmare was only just beginning.
