Italian Marble - Yelena AOT x Reader
4.6k words this was a request! A power imbalance kink fic that is literally just porn with plot!! Literally!
Warnings: Strong dom/sub tones. Slight withholding of affection towards reader. Oral sex. Begging. The littlest bit of impact play, more just light pushing around. Little bit of mean Yelena but that’s what we want! We beg! Also pls give me grace with the degradation I used in this I hope it wasn’t cringe. I’m MUCH more of a praise kind of girl but I just might be a changed woman. I really tried to focus on the power imbalance not just smut!! Dumb ending BECAUSE I SAID SOOOO. Honestly… toxic Yelena. I don’t wanna spoil the fun but there’s some mouth on shoe action. I also tried to capture a bit of confused sub space vibe IDK JUST READ IT oh and mentions of gagging. Fem reader but absolutely nothing specified like skin color, hair texture, height or weight. This fic is for everyone!!! (Let me know if I missed anything)
The relationship you fostered with Yelena started off as normal as any other. Hired as her maid, you did what you were told. Working hard was something you were typically willing to do for extra income. Yes, it was a sacrifice, but helping out where you can is just what you preferred to do. It was an added responsibility to cram into weekends and moments outside of office hours with little reward, but that’s beside the point. At least your mind was always occupied. The accounting day job you held was alright, but it really didn’t cover all of your money bases. Now, when it comes to Yelena, she quickly became your favorite boss. Never before had anyone come close to how… demanding she is. Her pockets hold an even larger sum than her requests; she was always slipping cash in the denomination of 50-dollar bills into your purse or back pocket. Regardless of that fact, you’re a nice person. If someone asked you for help, you’re more than likely going to pitch in. That’s just who you are. Right? When your duties to her started to stretch beyond just cleaning, you listened. Originally, it started with little things. Extra but small seeming simplicities like making her coffee while you mopped the kitchen, or drawing a bath for her after you'd freshly scrubbed the bathroom from tip to tail. Or even folding a basket of laundry that comprised all lace, hmm, what would be the right word? Intimate chattels? Whatever the correct term, you took great care in folding all of her black lingerie. Holding a pair up to the light, you gaze right through it completely unaware of Yelena’s gazing through you. From a room away, she peers into what you’re doing, like a predator waiting to strike at the right time. Easy like a moth to a flame, an erotic blush spreads across her skin.
That was when you began to question her intentions. Folding underwear was one thing, or even handwashing bras, but you almost wondered if she was maybe flirting? It was almost like at every corner she was seeing how much she could contort you into doing. That was never an issue for you however. All you longed for was an escape, somewhere to put your focus off of real-world problems and just become mindful of perfecting minor tasks for her. So, when she trailed a single finger down your spine while you scrubbed the kitchen ground by hand, you hopelessly leaned into her touch. Her matching praise was a delight as well. She told you how pretty you looked crouched over your task like that, but that you needed to straighten your back. Sharpen up. How kind of her to aid you with that advice. From there, things continued on. The hand that slid money into your pocket lingered and then slid down. She’d lean in to whisper directly into your ear or even just ask with a full voice of baritone confidence, requesting that you get on your knees and please her. That was her favorite spot for you to be. Down below. Yelena never put a label on what you two had, purposely keeping things ambiguous. You never minded; you admired the manner in which she held power over you. And fall in love you did. How could you not? Everything she had was greater than yours, heftier than yours. Money, possessions, status. You name it. You fell for the way she tugged on your leash, figuratively and physically, and with the way she kisses it all better afterwards, but never relieving enough to make the burn cease. She kept you on edge just for her pure enjoyment, and you ate it right up. She knew better than you anyway, so why fuss?
That leads to the current moment. Trembling slightly, you await an acknowledgement text. Sat on your own bed at home, feeling exhaustion weave itself through your DNA, you’re forcing yourself to keep running on the adrenaline of your crush. Yelena had entrusted you with looking after her home while she was off on a business trip. Knowing it was high stakes, you decided to give her a little treat. When Yelena unlocks her front door, she’s greeted with the invitation of warmth only a lover could create. Immediately, her nose is graced by the smell of her favorite wax melts, and when she maneuvers around after re-latching the door, she takes notice of the vase filled with flowers. It’s dark blue, rich like the night sky, and it’s adorned with milky white swirling waves. Just like the ocean. It’s a decor item she never would have chosen for herself, but now that she sees it here, she can’t imagine there being anything better. Slipping off her shoes to leave them abandoned by the door, she patters her way to her bedroom with her sleek suitcase in tow. The sister of the first vase sits on her dresser, complementary but different. Taking a closer look this time, she recognizes the flowers as pink roses and creamy red tulips. Sensual, and full of veneration. How thoughtful. Coming closer to her pristine, lily-white bed, something off-color catches her eye. It’s an envelope with her name carved delicately across the front, and when she flips it around, she sees it’s been sealed with a lipstick-colored kiss. Renewed upon seeing her gift, the carnality of seeing your handwriting washed through her, and that only intensified upon reading your words.
All this pleading, all this desperation…
If your words weren’t lustful enough, the lewd Polaroid of you that fell into her lap sure sealed the deal. Basking in your submission, Yelena ponders the idea of being evil. If she wanted to show everyone she could, but you hoped that she’d keep it in her bedside table for safekeeping and easy access. How intimately intense of you, her intrepid girl. In theory, anyone could have walked into this house and torn open this little letter and witnessed a piece of your soul. Yelena’s even willing to bet you didn’t take care to think that far into it. Or if you did, maybe that was part of your depraved fun. Staring at the wall to calm her pumping heart, something akin to guilt settles inside the spaces. You had made the house up to an above-immaculate level just for her to return to. Wondering with her mind again, Yelena imagined you going to an actual flower shop for her presents, not just the grocery store. Your wrist would look so polite while fishing out your hard-earned cash to give to the cashier. It’s not fair; you’re supposed to be here for her to spoil in return, for her to replace that money tenfold. But only after you let her find some mistake around the house to degrade you with, just to watch you curl up with discomforting arousal. Instead of doing that, knowing now how lonely you were without her, she will settle for just sending you a text message.
[ thank you for all that you do. the deal went smoothly. come to mine for dinner tomorrow? i’ll have an outfit ready for when you arrive ]
Approaching her door the next day, your fist hovers before knocking. You’re nervous; this is the first time you’ve ever directly approached the subject of more than physicality in your relationship with Yelena. Astoundingly, a man answers. You thought you’d be the only one here? He’s blonde, and when he looks at you over his glasses, his distaste is palpable. “And you are?” Beginning to stumble over your words, you’re overjoyed to see Yelena hot on his trail. Brushing him aside to pull you in, she delivers a shocking kiss right to your lips. Oh? “This is Zeke. Haven’t I told you of how wonderfully inventive he is?” Yes. More times than you can count. Shaking his hand, you notice a softening in his demeanor. That’s right. “Lovely to meet you, y/n. My apologies for the confusion.” So, Yelena talks about you to her coworkers? That’s news. Responding with a simple, “Likewise.” You settle yourself in for further critiquing by the other guests. Yelena holds your hand dearly while you weather the storm of introductions, standing proud and tall for you to lean on if need be. Abandoning the crowd, Yelena leads you to her kitchen. The group isn’t far; you can still hear their chatter, but the slight separation hints at a seclusion for you both. Petting down the top of your head, she rests her palm on the back of your neck. Her other hand clings to your hip, and you anticipate a smooch. Instead of that, she gives you a prompt. “Serve yourself, then meet me back in the lounge. Try the prosecco. I think you’ll find it refreshing.” Separated from you, she heads on her way without sparing you a second glance. What? Had she not read your letter? What about the intimacy she just publicly displayed? Were the flowers not enough? And you’d asked so nicely. Not knowing what more there is to do, you pour yourself a glass and return to the main room. Now feeling like you stick out like a sore thumb, you observe everyone else’s choice of clothing. The men sport suit coats adorned with cufflinks, but their necks are bare of silken ties and their top buttons are undone. Yelena matches them, but their wives wear pointed heels and luxe dresses. Nothing too over the top, but it’s clear they drip with precious diamonds and jewels. Looking down at yourself, you tried to present nicely, but the tax bracket difference is displayed well. Hmm, nothing you can do to fight against that now.
Wholly enjoying your distress, Yelena decides to make her first move for the evening. Right there, in front of everyone, she mentions that you two will be stepping away because she has a celebratory gift for you. The women happily fuss and the men deliver wisecracks, but Yelena doesn’t allow herself to bristle. Following her lead, you meet her openly awaiting hand and start for the bedroom. Upon entering, you take notice of something new immediately. Standing separate from the surrounding crowd of clothes, your new dress awaits. Sat directly below are heels and all around them are the petals from the flowers you’d given her. Swooning, you turn to give her a hug and kiss. Shifting herself away, she dodges you slightly. “Not yet. Try it on.” Walking away from you, she goes to sit on her bed with her back to you. So, she wanted a surprise. Staring expectantly at the outfit, you marvel at the fact that these items are well out of your price range. Sleek and simple, you allow the dress to tumble down your form and slip into the tolerable height of the heels. Yelena has taken off every piece of what you were before entering, shoving her superiority right into your body and feet, and she fits like a glove. “Alright, all finished.” You announce, and you can’t help how your hands clasp one another behind your back. The nervous fidgeting never ceases around this blonde woman. Being too distracted yourself, you miss Yelena’s small cues. Her breath catches just slightly, and her fingers trace a small circle on the bedspread. Peering over her shoulder at you first, her power surges at your meek stance. You stare down at your shoes, and when you glance at her, her heart could have stopped right then and there. Standing at her full height, she slowly, intently, closes the distance. Gently grasping your jaw, Yelena overflows the charged silence with her voice. “These clothes will create quite a distraction for me tonight.” Slightly dissatisfied with that, you knit your brows. “That’s all? Just the dress?” Allowing her eyes to darken, Yelena elaborates. “What would they be without you in them, my love? You don’t really need my words to fill in every space, do you?” Feeling your focus dulled from the light belittling, you cup her face in return just to be sweet. “Kiss me?” After swiping a finger across your lower lip, she denies you again. “No.” It would be dissatisfying, but she wasn’t doing you a disservice. She was giving confirmation, she’d read and heard the message of your letter loud and clear. She’d understood what you’d asked for.
Yelena serves lamb for dinner. Horrible in its opulence and barbarity. Minty and meaty at the same time. Every item you consume has been first measured and then placed on your plate by the chef herself. Just like before, she knows best. She directed you on what two things to mix in one bite, and she kept you from being overly indulgent. How thoughtful. Back in the living room, you’re sat on the couch with one of the many auxiliary wives around you. Her heels are slipped off and sit in a heap against the couch, and her legs are half curled up to her chest. The positioning caused her dress to roll up some, and after a particularly funny moment, you brush your fingertips against her knee. It was a completely friendly gesture, but you’d sensed you’d crossed a line. Not with the woman, but with Yelena. As if a correction came from a strict teacher, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Not accusatory, no, just intimidating. Turning back to confirm who you already know it is, Yelena stands behind the couch. Looking down at you, she has to bend down some to whisper in your ear.
Once you processed her request to follow, the calm piano music of the moment fell flat. Looking around the room feeling shy, you hoped no one heard. Luckily enough, everyone else was completely indifferent. Even the woman you’d just been talking to — her painted mouth was now preoccupied with her drink and her attention was focused on some story one of the men was reenacting. Looking back into Yelena’s eyes, she’s still waiting for you, totally focused on you. Rising slowly, you still go completely unnoticed. Looming nearby, once you’re close enough, Yelena takes ahold of your forearm and pulls you away. No chance of escape now. From Yelena’s point of view, this was just about as thrilling as it gets. In that letter, you’d complimented her so much. Reiterating how thankful you were for her treatment and that you love it so much, there’s just no way you can get enough. You need more, more, more, and it needs to be intense. You just need your woman. So badly so, that you ache when you’re home alone, you miss the grounding directions she always gives you. When she was watching you from behind, normally she would have thought it sweet you were connecting with an acquaintance, or maybe she would have wondered what subject you could possibly be relating on. After hesitating slightly, her recalling the desperate pleading in that letter was all the consent she needed to move forward. That gift will equal ultimate deliverance. Pushing you into the guest bathroom, she locks the door afterwards. When you opened your mouth to question, you’re cut off. “You know what we’re here for.” You fall to your knees without being asked. Resting your palms on your thighs, you look up to her awaiting instruction. Surveying the room, you first focus on the floor. It’s what appears to be Italian marble with a mother-of-pearl design hooping around in smooth circles. Above you, pale but muted blue paint covers the walls, and the white braided rug feels soft against your shins. Clean without being sterile. Glancing back upon her face, from your eyes to her shoes, her gaze guides. “Go on.” She’s placed herself in front of you and leaned back against the countertop. Bending over, you place a small kiss where her pants hem meets her top of her shoe. Then up you continue, smoothing your palms over the stiff fabric and mark her with more. Standing up on your knees now, you hug around her thigh and press yourself into her. “May I touch you?” Shimmying lightly, you hope she can feel the softness of your breasts pressed directly on her leg. “No.” Already anticipating that response, you slither forward further. Splaying palms across the tops of both her thighs this time, you prod with your mouth through the crotch of her pants. Biting, sucking and licking lightly while the word ‘please’ continues to push out from your vocal cords. Betraying nothing of how she truly feels, all she gives you is another bored response. “That still won’t be enough.” So, that’s how it’s gonna be, hmm? Giving her a killer look, you know what she’s demanding — something nasty. Contorting down to your hands and knees, you place a few kitten licks to the top of her shoe.
Gently, you fold up her pant leg and kiss the side of her ankle gently, deliberately avoiding using your mouth on her shoe again. Obviously, this wasn’t up to her rigid standards. Leaning back with her hands against the counter, she lifts her other foot and stomps down on the middle of your shoulder. The feeling of the bottom of her shoe against your bare skin was humiliating enough, but now your face was smashed uncomfortably into her laces. “That was weak. How about you try again with something else?” Nodding as best as you can, you feel the leather of her shoe dig into and pull at your cheek. Relinquishing the crushing pressure, she allows you to sit up, and you’re already breathing heavy. Falling back onto your bottom, you settle for plain old begging. “Please let me touch you.” Her face turns smug. “No, ask me louder.” Biting your lip, you make an attempt. “P-please Yelena, let me touch you.” She doesn’t entertain you with a reply; she only raises her eyebrows as if to say, ‘you’re useless’. Much louder this time, you notice your voice echo off of the tile slightly. “Ugh! Please! I want- need to touch you! Now!” Only then does she smile. “Good job slut, make yourself useful.” Crawling forward, you fumble with her belt and button. Pulling up her shirt to expose more skin, she does it just to stun you further with her beauty. And this go-round, instead of mumbling ‘please’ you whisper ‘thank you’. Now, that last sentence of yours was definitely loud enough to be heard by peeping ears, but Yelena didn’t care. Your typical whispers were enough to make her long to just drag you from wherever you are located to her bed and ride your face then and there, so you can imagine the effect of it strained in that manner is immense to her. Impatiently pulling down her pants and snatching them off of one ankle, her shoe shoots off with them. Honestly, you’re too preoccupied to remove them fully. But they are out of the way enough that they won’t be tainted by any possible mess. Especially with the way they basically dangle off of her opposing leg.
Pushing herself back to sit on top of the counter, the elevated position in combination with her long legs makes it so that you can’t just kneel to pleasure her; you have to squat, and that extra work makes your thighs burn. But you savor it. You love how unsteady it makes you feel, and Yelena can sense it too in the way you waver around. At first she allows you to take the lead, but the moment you feel in control, her hand comes to the back of your head to smoosh you in. Watching you intently, she grinds herself against your face. The wet slide roughs up your makeup, and your attempts to keep breathing make a creamy mess. “Look at you. How disgusting.” Repeatedly, she removes your mouth and places it back to make it appear like you’re sucking her off. It sounds like it too. That wet spurt sound soils the air. “Gag on me, sweetheart. Fuck.” Closing your eyes, you moan into her skin. Yelena never would have foreseen your being so into this. In fact, this was her ultimate fantasy. A tip on the scales of authority. Are you her whore or her maid? Either way, you will gladly accommodate. You’re always eager, but astonishingly enough, you’re literally throwing yourself at her right now. Your left hand is braced against the top of her thigh, and your right hand cups under her knee where it’s hanging heavy after being slipped onto your shoulder. Noticing your balancing act with squatting was becoming too easy for you again, she snatched up both of your wrists to pin them in the air above your head. She laughs meanly at your frustrated, garbled groaning into her pussy, and your weight falls forward, making you smother yourself lightly. Though don’t think the smothering is a bad thing, you crave it. The noises you make are absolutely rude in their obscenity, but you don’t even care. “Wow, my god- if you get too loud, everyone is going to catch on.” Wanting to turn the tables this time, deliberately pushing yourself all the way into her heat, you penetrate her with your tongue just to try to get even. It works some, her voice cracks lightly but then she bites her plush lower lip to silence her uproar. Frustrated that your efforts aren’t working, you fully allow yourself to drool freely. The mess pools below Yelena and collects on the cool marble countertop. That makes additional noise. Slurping now just for the purpose of being obvious and obnoxious, Yelena allows your arms to drop, and you immediately overpower her with what little strength you’ve got. Feeling your jaw go slack from all the work you’re putting in, you absolutely won’t give up. Pressing your tongue flat to touch right on her clit, you shake your head back and forth some and allow your neck to take a turn. “Oh, oh fuck. I’m gonna cum. Don’t you dare stop.”
With a twitch and one loud groan, she finishes all over your face. Pushing you away by your forehead, she makes you fall back onto your bottom. Catching yourself with your hands, the strain in your joints is heavy now, but it’s all right when she’s mean like this. When she uses you and simply discards you when she’s through. Just like a filthy cum rag.
Hopping to it, you obey, albeit stumbling some, and immediately get back into position. Pushing two fingers inside, you brush up against her internal pulse point. All the while, your mouth is pressed and preoccupied with sucking hard on her clit. This go-round she’s noisy, groaning here and whining some there, but when she hums in a low tone, you feel a shift. Trapping your face in place, she unintentionally alerts you to what’s coming. She’s shaking now, and you can feel her muscles fighting to push you out. With one last cry, she ends up squirting like a faucet. Liquid comes gushing out in time with your thrusts and because you’re unable to move, you graciously swallow what you can, accepting this anointment from your owner like a good, used-up girl. Breaking away for air, the last bits of her cum dribble from your lips and slide down to meet the rest of the mess on your front. Gasping, you check the floor, and the disarray pools there as well.
Well, there goes your fresh mopping job.
Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand while returning to kneel properly, Yelena is already two steps ahead, already freshening herself with a nearby towel. Watching her shamelessly, absolutely staring openly, you’re corrected once she redresses herself. “Clean up. I know you remember how.” Being familiar with the room, you know where to look. Opening the undercarriage cabinet, you reveal the previously hidden cleanser bottle and rags. Painstakingly, you first absorb the excess mess and then rub careful circles around the floor to make sure you perform well. While you fuss and brush, Yelena redresses herself and returns the favor of staring by looking down disapprovingly. It’s clear that you scrub your thighs together occasionally. Wedging her sock back into her shoe, she takes notice that few wet droplets remain on it. “You’ve missed a spot.” Coming close with the rag, Yelena stops you. “Not with that. With your mouth instead, please.” Slow and full of lethargy, you bring your mouth close and clean up. Your tongue left an additional webbed path of moisture, so you cleaned that up with the cloth as well. Hmm, spit-shined.
Needy and clammy, with a clean face now since you had access to towels yourself, you have to find a way to make Yelena touch you or you won’t be able to function. That’s just what Yelena does to you; she makes it so you’re able to function. You wouldn’t be able to cope without her direction and without her relaxing treatment. “Yelena, can you touch me now?” You huff. “Stand up.” She aids you in your resurrection and braces you against the sink in the spot she filled previously, then she helps you up onto the chilled tabletop. “Could you use your, um, mouth? Pretty please?” Rubbing up and down your forearms, she frustrates you further. “Hmm, I can’t exactly ruin my face like you, can I?” Unceremoniously, she ruffled your dress up and dipped into your underwear, and you can’t help but gasp pitifully. “I love you, but I’m not a dirty, needy slut, now am I? That’s all on you, sweetheart. That’s your one and only job. Now shut your mouth before I decide you haven’t earned what I’m going to so graciously gift to you.” You look up at her teary-eyed and scared she will leave you uncomfortable. She loves you? “Nod if you understand, or I will take my hand out of your panties.” You reach up and pull on the middle of her suit jacket, fingering the buttons out of nervousness. “Please, please touch me. I want whatever you are willing to give me.” Whatever she’s willing to give? Wow, you really are pathetically perfect.
“Good girl. Now spread your legs some more.” Sticking her fingers in your folds, she rubs around to collect your arousal on her fingertips. When she takes them out, you shutter. She separates them in a scissor-type motion right in front of your face. “Hmm, wet.” Strings of your slick connect like a bridge between her digits. Resting them against your mouth, she directs you to open. Pushing her fingers inside, she brushes against your tongue and travels to the back of your throat. The small gag this causes makes you drool all over again. “Tasty, right?” Pulling out, she makes a supplementary mess of your face by rubbing your spit all along your cheeks and chin. “That’s enough.” She concludes flatly. Horror displays across your messy features. “What?!” Huffing with a smirk, she repeats herself. “I said, that’s all you get. We’re done. Now get down.” Sliding off, you place your weight back onto unsteady knees; you’re full of jitters. Leaving you behind, she stands in the doorway. “Try harder next time and maybe you’ll be deserving of more. For now,” She digs in her pocket while you wobble to stand near. “This should suffice.” Then, she hands you a paper check with a peck to your forehead.
“Look. Check how much it’s worth.” Her smile is slightly daunting. Glancing down, all you can think is ‘well then’.
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