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You Belong to Me Ch. 1

Alcina Dimitrescu x F! Reader

AO3: You Belong to Me

Summary: Lady Dimitrescu's obsession knows no bounds as she becomes increasingly possessive over you. Will you succumb to her dark embrace, or find a way to break free before it's too late?

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: Yandere, possessive/obsessive behavior, blood, aftermath depiction of violence

You woke up every morning to the faint glow of dawn filtering in through the small, frost-covered window of your cramped living space. The air was cool and still, carrying with it the subtle scent of weathered stone and aged wood. It was a far cry from the comfort of your former life, but you have long since resigned yourself to the harsh realities of servitude since you began living in Castle Dimitrescu three months ago.

With a weary sigh, you pushed yourself upright. The blanket slid away to reveal the simple cot that served as your bed. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and planted both feet onto the cold, unforgiving surface of the wooden floor. It made goosebumps travel across your arms.

Ignoring the slight chill in your bedroom for now, you walked over to a small dresser, and with a gentle tug, you pulled open the drawer, revealing an array of neatly folded uniforms within. You sift through the selection, your fingers grazing over soft cotton blouses, tailored trousers, and dresses. After thoughtful consideration, you settled on a plain white blouse paired with sleek black trousers.

Once dressed, you made your way over to where a small basin sat atop a stand, tucked away into the corner of your bedroom. Cupping your hands, you scooped up the frigid liquid and splashed it onto your face. As the droplets cascaded down your cheeks, you reached for a hand towel hanging nearby and patted your face dry. You turned your attention to your hair next and picked up an old hairbrush resting on the stand. As you ran it through your strands, you felt the satisfying tug of knots being smoothed out.

After combing your hair, you placed the hairbrush back down with a soft clink and grabbed your toothbrush and toothpaste tucked next to the basin. You applied a pea-sized amount of toothpaste onto the bristles and began to brush your teeth. Once two minutes have passed, you rinsed your mouth and toothbrush and placed it back on the stand. With a sense of cleanliness and readiness, you leave your bedroom, prepared to face the day ahead.

You walked down the hallway, the quiet tap of your shoes thumping lightly against the carpeted floors. The walls, painted a pristine white, were lined with gold accents that shimmered under the candles’ soft lighting. Alongside the decor, various paintings adorned the walls, depicting scenes of women dancing in sunlit fields or portraits of people.

The interior of the castle was beautiful, you could admit that, but beneath it all lurked the unsettling reality of torture and death. Behind closed doors, unseen horrors unfolded. All the maids lived in constant fear, their every move scrutinized, and their slightest mistake met with brutal punishment. The halls were haunted with their pained screams and whispered pleas for mercy.

The price of disobedience and the consequences of crossing the line drawn by Lady Dimitrescu and her daughters was one you wanted to avoid at all costs.

Eventually, you reached the supply room door and turned the handle. The hinges protested with a soft, familiar creak as you swung the door open. Inside, shelves were neatly stacked with cleaning supplies. Just as your hand reached out to grab the items you needed, you heard a familiar voice behind you say your name.

You turned around and a rush of warmth flooded through you as you realized it was Catalina. Since your arrival three months ago, Catalina had become your closest friend, an anchor, guiding your life through the horrors of this castle.

“Good morning.” Catalina greeted you with a warm smile, her chestnut brown hair cascading in gentle waves around her shoulders.

“Hey, good morning.” You replied, returning her smile.

“Are you ready for another grueling day?” She joked lightly, though her voice was tinged with exhaustion.

“Yeah,” you forced to maintain your smile despite the unease that gnawed at your insides. “But we’ll get through it like we always do.” You added, summoning a bit of reassurance for both you and Catalina.

The corners of her mouth downturned, forming a subtle frown as she spoke. “I wish I had your optimism right now. I have to help Maria clean up Miss Daniela’s bedroom,” she continued, her tone heavy with a sense of foreboding. “I dread what I’ll find in there.”

You grimaced in response.

Daniela was the youngest of Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters. She was known for her volatile and unpredictable nature. Her actions often left everyone on edge. At any given moment, Daniela's demeanor could shift like the wind, turning from saccharine to savage in the blink of an eye. It was best to avoid her completely when it came to the Lady’s three daughters.

“Well, I hope it’s nothing too bad.” You murmured.

“Me too,” Catalina said with a soft smile. “But I’ll see you later at lunch, okay?”

“Definitely. See you then.”

As Catalina left the supply room, you grabbed a bucket already filled with soapy water, a mop, and a couple of washcloths. With your supplies in hand, you made your way over to one of the hallways assigned to you. Upon reaching your destination, you carefully set your supplies down. The mop leaned against the wall while the bucket of cleaning solution sat nearby.

Taking a moment to survey the large window, you noted the thin layer of dust and grime obscuring the view beyond. Determined to restore its clarity, you dipped one of the washcloths into the water and wrung out the excess liquid soaking the fabric.

Positioning yourself at the first window, you finally got to work.

***

As you finished wiping down the last window, the midday sun shone high above the mountains, letting you know that it was nearing noon. Satisfied with your work, you gathered your cleaning supplies and began to make your way back to the supply room.

However, as you walked along, the silence of the castle was shattered by the sudden, blood-curdling scream of a woman. The chilling sound was quickly followed by a sickening gurgle. Dread washed over you like a wave as the implications of what you had just heard sank in. Without hesitation, you quickened your pace, clutching your supplies in a death grip as you hurried away from the source of the horrifying noise.

“You there, stop!”

A menacing voice cut through the air, and you halted in place. Every muscle in your body tensed as you recognized the commanding tone of Cassandra, the middle child of Lady Dimitrescu. Encountering Cassandra was an ordeal in and of itself. Though not as overtly unhinged as her youngest sibling Daniela, Cassandra's brand of cruelty was more insidious. Her actions were calculated, designed to inflict maximum suffering upon those unfortunate enough to cross her path. She was known to be the most sadistic among her sisters.

With a knot of apprehension tightening in your stomach, you slowly turned to face her, meeting her piercing gaze with trepidation. However, your attention was soon drawn elsewhere as you noticed something deeply disturbing: blood dripped from the edge of her sickle, staining the floor in dark, ominous droplets.

“Come here.” Cassandra drawled out, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. Her lips curved into a sly grin as she extended her index finger, beckoning you over.

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to comply, your footsteps hesitant as you approached her. Her grin widened, a glint of amusement dancing in her eyes as you stepped closer, feeling the weight of her gaze upon you.

“Clean this mess up.” She said lowly as she inclined her head toward Lady Dimitrescu’s study room.

“Yes, Miss Cassandra.” You whispered obediently.

As you cautiously stepped past the door frame, a scene of horror greeted you. There, sprawled in the center of the room, lay the lifeless body of a maid. Her throat was gruesomely slashed, the wound jagged and brutal. A pool of blood spread like a sinister halo around her head, seeping into the cracks of the floorboards.

For a moment, you stood frozen in shock.

Time seemed to stand still as you struggled to comprehend the brutality of what lay before you. Your eyes were fixated on the lifeless form, unable to tear your gaze away. You had never encountered a dead body before. The sight was jarring, shocking you to your core.

You had seen the aftermath of violence before, heard the distant screams, and seen leftover blood etched into the fibers of the carpets, but never have you come face to face with death itself. This was different.

This was raw and real.

Your eyes briefly caught sight of a large key adorned with the Dimitrescu family crest, resting delicately next to her hand. Before you could ponder its significance, Cassandra's voice, smooth as silk but laced with an unsettling edge, whispered close to your left ear.

“Don't mind her,” she purred, her breath brushing against your earlobe like a cold breeze. “She had it coming.”

Startled, you gasped and instinctively stepped forward, desperate to get away from her.

Cassandra chuckled and stepped around you without a single care in the world. She bent over and retrieved the key, slipping it into the pocket of her dress. Then, in a chilling display of strength, she seized the young woman by the collar of her blouse, her grip unyielding as she dragged the limp body along with ease. And then, as if forgetting something, she paused, turning slowly to fix you with an unnerving gaze.

“Consider this a lesson. This is what happens to those who attempt to escape.” She remarked, her tone almost causal, as if discussing the weather. Her eyes then drifted toward the trail of blood that stained the floor. For a moment, her eyes lingered on the crimson mess before meeting your own again, a smirk playing on her lips. “You may want to hurry and clean this up before Mother makes an appearance.”

The implication of her statement hung heavy in the air.

“Yes, Miss Cassandra.”

As Cassandra finally departed the room, a surge of anguish threatened to engulf you, but you suppressed it. With trembling hands and a heart heavy with dread, you forced yourself to maintain composure, though every instinct screamed at you to turn and run.

There was no time to waste as you got started on cleaning the blood up.

Time seemed to warp and twist, stretching into an eternity as you meticulously cleaned every speck of blood off the floor. With each swipe of the mop, your hands shook uncontrollably, the memory of what had transpired haunting your every move. Every corner you scrubbed, every stain you erased, felt like an attempt to cleanse not just the physical space, but the sorrow that threatened to consume you from within.

Just as you thought you couldn't bear another moment of the suffocating silence, you heard it. The unmistakable sound of heavy high heels clicking through the hallway. Your heart almost leaped into your throat, but instead, pounded against your ribs like a caged animal desperate for escape.

The click-clack of her high heels came to a sudden stop.

A tense stillness settled in the air, thick and palpable, as you sensed her presence looming by the doorway. The hairs on the back of your neck prickled and stood on end, a primal instinct warning you of the danger that stood before you. But your eyes remained fixed on the floor, as if it held the key to your salvation.

And then, finally, she spoke, her voice like velvet. “Well, well, what do we have here?”

You found yourself momentarily stunned. You didn't know how to respond. Your mind raced, searching for the right words, but they never came. You had never spoken to her before, until today. So, you settled for her title instead.

“My Lady.” You managed to utter softly.

But there was only silence in response.

You shifted uneasily, unsure of what to do next. Was she waiting for something? Did you do something wrong?

With a hesitant glance upward, you found yourself locking eyes with Lady Dimitrescu.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you held her gaze, a sense of unease creeping over you like ivy winding its way around your limbs. There was something in the way she looked at you – a hunger, a thirst for something you couldn't quite name – that made your insides curl.

And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the moment passed, and she offered you a knowing smirk – a flash of pearly white teeth that sent a chill down your spine.

Your pulse quickened as you watched Lady Dimitrescu walk past you, her tall figure casting a long shadow across the floor. But then she stopped, the sudden cessation of movement sending a jolt of fear through you. You could feel her presence hovering somewhere behind you, a suffocating weight that seemed to press down on your very soul.

“You missed a spot.” Lady Dimitrescu said but it sounded almost playful.

“I-I’m sorry, my Lady,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll get that cleaned up right away.”

Your heart hammered in your chest like a relentless drumbeat as you scrambled over to her. Kneeling beside her, your eyes caught a small spot of blood that you had missed, a tiny droplet that clung stubbornly to the floor. How was she even able to see that?

You pulled a handkerchief from your pocket, fingers fumbling slightly in their haste. With gentle precision, you began to clean the area, your movements slow and deliberate.

Finally, when the task was done, you gazed up at her, seeking some sign of reassurance. But what met your gaze was unnerving – a smile that sent shivers down your spine. It wasn't the smile of satisfaction you had expected. No, it was something far more sinister. Her lips curled upward, revealing a glimpse of something altogether different – a flash of fangs.

“You may go.” Lady Dimitrescu said, her voice carrying an eerie calmness.

“Thank you, my Lady.”

With a deep, respectful curtsy, you dared not linger any longer than necessary. As you hastily gathered your belongings, you could feel her eyes boring into the back of your head as you left her study.

You navigated the many hallways once more, each twist and turn blurring together seamlessly. Desperation clawed at you, urging you to put as much distance as possible between yourself and Lady Dimitrescu.

As you rounded another corner, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, both physically and mentally. Taking a moment to collect yourself, you breathed deeply, letting the tension melt away. But even as you tried to calm your racing heart, your mind couldn't shake the image of the way Lady Dimitrescu stared at you.

There was something off about it, something you couldn't quite put into words.

You hope you never find out.

***

The morning sun casts a soft golden glow through your window, signaling the start of a new day.

With a languid motion, you stretched your limbs and pushed the covers aside, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. Rubbing your eyes, you let out a soft yawn and glance around the room, the familiar surroundings gradually coming into focus. Yet, something seemed out of place.

Your gaze drifted to the door of your bedroom. You frowned as you saw a small, folded piece of paper lying on the floor, just beneath the edge of the door.

Intrigued, you rose off the bed and padded your way across the room toward the note. You bent down and picked it up. Unfolding the paper, you found yourself staring at what appeared to be elegant handwriting scrawled across the page.

My dearest pet,

It has come to my attention that your talents are wasted on menial tasks. Therefore, it is with great pleasure, and without room for negotiation, that I hereby command you to assume the role of my personal servant from this day forth.

You shall attend to my every whim and desire with the utmost devotion. You will be at my beck and call, ready to serve me without question or hesitation.

You are expected to begin your shift at 9 A.M. in my bedchambers. Do not be late.

Yours faithfully,

Lady Alcina Dimitrescu

Blood froze in your veins.

As you read those words, an icy grip tightened around your heart.

Pet.

Being labeled as Lady Dimitrescu's “pet” made your stomach churn. At that moment, the room seemed to close in around you, suffocating you with its hold. You released the note from your trembling fingers, watching it flutter back to the floor.

None of this made any sense.

Lady Dimitrescu wasn’t known for keeping pets. The very idea seemed absurd, yet she called you one.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, she also wanted you to be her personal servant. That fact alone was terrifying. You were already forced to work in this castle but the prospect of serving directly under her? That was a whole other matter.

You stole a glance at an old clock perched on your dresser. It was 8 A.M. You knew you had little time left before you were expected to be in her bedchambers, ready to fulfill whatever tasks she demanded of you.

Many thoughts flittered around in your mind, swirling like leaves. Among them, one stuck out the most. The desire to escape burned within you like a flame refusing to be extinguished.

No.

The idea was foolish. It would surely get you killed. You have already seen what Cassandra did to that maid yesterday.

But what if you took your time to plot your escape?

Escaping the castle would not be easy. It would require cunning, stealth, and a plan so foolproof that even the Dimitrescu family would be caught off guard.

Despite the overwhelming odds stacked against you, you have to try. You refuse to live the rest of your life as some noblewoman’s pet.

Turning on your heel, you got dressed and left your bedroom. With each step, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, as though a pair of unseen eyes followed your every move. You glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to catch a glimpse of someone lurking in the shadows, but the hallway remained empty. You quickened your pace until the sound of your name pierced through the stillness of the hallway.

Startled, you pivoted to find Catalina standing there. Her smile, usually bright and welcoming, faltered as she took in your demeanor. Concern etched across her features as she walked over to you, her hands settling gently on your shoulders. Her touch offered both comfort and support.

“Hey, is everything okay?” Her voice carried genuine worry. “I didn’t see you at lunch or dinner yesterday.”

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling dry and constricted.

“No, everything is not okay.” You managed to rasp out.

“What’s wrong?” Catalina's expression softened with empathy.

You hesitated, feeling the weight of Lady Dimitrescu’s words pressing down on you. But you needed to confide in someone, and she was the only person you trusted enough to share that information with.

“I received a note this morning from Lady Dimitrescu. She said that I’m to be her personal servant starting today.”

Catalina's reaction was immediate. A light gasp left her lips, and her hands, which had been resting reassuringly on your shoulders, fell away. The color drained from her face, leaving her complexion pallid as her lips pressed together in a thin line.

“I don’t know what to do.” Your voice quivered, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. “I’m scared.”

Catalina's brow furrowed as she sought to understand the situation.

“Why did she ask you to be her personal servant?” she asked, her tone gentle yet probing. “The grand chambermaid usually attends to the Lady’s needs.”

You reached up, delicately brushing away the tears that gathered in the corner of your eyes. “I’m not sure. She just said that my talents were wasted on menial tasks.”

There was a long pause as she absorbed your words.

“This is very unusual.” Catalina murmured; her voice laced with unease.

A queasy sensation crept up from the pit of your stomach, coiling like a serpent as you hesitated to tell Catalina how Lady Dimitrescu addressed you in her note as well. You were reluctant to say it out loud.

Pet.

You were no longer a person, but a possession.

#love a woman that makes my stomach churn #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x maiden

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