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ssweetleaf · 7 months ago

Text

roll like thunder.

carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you piss carmy off, he decides to teach you a lesson.

includes: 18+, dub con, angst, mean!carmy, belting, wedgying?? is that a word?, degradation, too many uses of the word ‘fuck’, sorry, no actual smut in this, but i’m thinking of making a part 2…let me know if you’d likeeee :D

divider credit goes to @cafekitsune

Being in Carmy’s bad books was not a usual occurrence for you.

You were used to being good— having him coo and dote over you, petting your hair and kissing at your forehead, telling you what a good girl you were.

You were used to being underneath him, all pliant and submissive, eager to please— and he’d treat you so good, give you anything you’d ask for and you didn’t even have to use your words.

So when he sat in the driver’s seat of his car, his hands were clenched upon the wheel, the leather squeaking under his grasp— you sorely missed the usual hand that squeezed at the fat of your thigh, or warm palm that enveloped your knee.

In fact, he barely looked at you, nostrils flaring as he stared straight at the road ahead, chewing irritably at the skin of his bottom lip— already red raw.

You awkwardly shifted in your seat whilst he drove in silence, fiddling with your fingers and wringing your hands in your lap. Your mouth stuttered for words, wondering how to approach him and what to say.

“Carm, I—,” you began, only to be cut off rather abruptly by the man himself, the first words he had uttered since you’d left the restaurant, since you said your goodbyes to the rest of the kitchen, since Carmen piped up on how disappointed he was with you.

“Shut up.” He muttered, utterly fuming, smoke practically bellowed from his ears and you sucked in a sharp breath, trying to keep your tears at bay.

You didn’t like when Carmen thought you were bad.

“But I just—” you tried, reaching out to grasp his hand that lay limp on his lap, only for him to bat it away.

“I won’t tell you again.” He spoke firm and lowly, a kind of voice he had never really needed to use with you before.

A part of you hated it— the tears that begged to ebb over your lash line were proof, however there was someplace deep inside you that enjoyed his tone, an itch that needed to be scratched, a desire to be put in your place, to know your place.

But you nodded shakily anyway, cowering down into your seat and keeping your gaze set on the hedgerows that zoomed past your window— you were nearly home, just a few more minutes and you’d be ridden of this awkward tension, at least you’d hoped.

…

Once you had both made it home, Carmy turned off the ignition, and got out of the car, letting the door slam shut before making his way inside your apartment.

You frowned, any other day he’d come around to the passenger side, insisting on opening the door for you, helping you unbuckle your seatbelt and aiding you in stepping out with an open palm. Instead today, you had to walk inside on your own, smoothing your dress down (one of Carmy’s favourites, though you were sure it didn’t really matter, not with the mood he was in) and watching hesitantly as he gripped the kitchen counter, his head hanging between his shoulders and mouth in a thin, firm line.

He was very clearly pissed.

“Carmy,” you whispered, shifting on your feet, watching when his shoulders tensed at your words. “talk to me.”

You could see the way his jaw ticked, flexing and grinding his teeth, a habit of his when he was angry— though it had never really been directed towards you before.

He chuckled, a humourless and dry laugh that had you chewing at your lip, trying to keep your frown at bay.

“What’s there to say, honey?” His usual pet name didn’t flow off his tongue as sweetly as it usually did, instead it was spat out like venom— mocking you. “You embarrassed me. In front of my fucking employees, no less.”

Your gaze was fixed to the floor, toeing your sock clad feet against the kitchen tiles and chewing anxiously on your lip.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” you uttered, feeling the lump in your throat starting to form and thick tears building from beneath your waterline.

It didn’t help your oncoming emotions when he decided to mock you further— to imitate your helpless stuttering with a roll of his eyes.

“Oh, you didn’t mean to, huh?” He said, and you shook your head, looking at him now, eyes boring into his, just hoping to see a semblance of your usual Carmy inside them. Instead they were dark and swarming, his cerulean irises glazed over and almost black.

Carmen was quiet for a while— moody and brooding, chest heaving and shoulders impossibly tensed. You felt like running to him, pressing your cheek to his chest and saying how sorry you were, that it’d never happen again, that all you wanted was to be good. But some part of you decided to leave it, to wait and see what he’d do— to see how far he’d take his anger.

“Bear—”

“Bend over the counter.” Carmy spoke, hands on his hips, completely fuming and not in the mood for anything other than obedience.

“W-what?”

“Bend over the fucking counter, m’not gonna repeat myself again.”

You swallowed thickly, wetting your dry lips with a swipe of your tongue before nodding. Moving to the island, you pressed your tummy against the cool marble, leaning forward so your ass jutted out, your chest completely flat and cheek squished.

You could hear the clinking of his belt buckle, the quick swoosh of the leather pulling from the loops on his slacks.

You craned your neck, lips in a pout from the hard surface upon the fat of your cheek, taking a peek at Carmen and watching him fold his belt in half, leather squeaking in your ears and buckle jangling with each slight movement.

His eyes found yours and you saw his jaw tick.

“Gonna show you how to fucking behave.”

You grew tense at his clipped words, cheeks warming and chest heaving against the cold marble, waiting in jumpy anticipation for what was to come.

Carmy tugged at the hem of your pretty dress before flipping it up, tucking it up under the band of your bra to keep it in place— he pulled at your panties too, tugging them up up up, your pussy lips swallowing the gusset of your underwear, the fabric tight and uncomfortable against the seam of your ass and you whimpered when you heard the short cracks of the elastic snapping.

“Carmen—”

“Shut. Up.” He muttered it through gritted teeth, pulling and tugging even harder, bouncing you a little when you were brought to the tips of your toes, having nothing to hold onto apart from keeping your chest flat against the kitchen counter.

“The trouble is I spoil you too much,” he huffed, twisting at the soft pastel of your panties, watching with a little smirk when they slowly started to rip, the elastic hem snapping at the seams, just moments away from falling apart. “give you anything you ask for, treat you like a fuckin’ daddy’s girl.”

“But,” you hiccuped, sobbing at the way the fabric dug into you, leaving your skin raw. “but I am daddy’s girl.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw the way he shook his head, grunting lowly, almost scoffing at the way you decided to pipe up.

“No,” he sighed, you could hear the disappointment and you whined audibly at it, “you ain’t daddy’s girl— ain’t nothing but a fuckin’ bratty whore.”

You continued to sob, tears running freely now, thrashing your legs about to try and get free of his torture— that is, until your panties had finally decided to rip, leaving you bare and sore, feet back to being flat against the tiles, your thighs rubbing mindlessly together, trying to quell the ache between them.

Carmy let the scraps of fabric fall to the floor, pushing at the small of your back and having you arch even deeper— he adjusted the leather belt in his palm, doing a couple practice swings, readying himself.

“P-please, Carmy, not the belt— I’ll be good, I swea—” your babbling was quickly cut off by the flick of the leather, a sharp, searing smack that had you gasping out. “Ow!”

Another one came, inflicted towards your other cheek this time, quick and to the point, no nonsense, just like Carmy and you squealed at the pain, reaching back with your hands, desperate to quell the sting and ache by smoothing the softness of your palms over the welted flesh.

The welts bloomed thick over your skin, throbbing, as if they had their own heartbeat, never seeming to dull— tears already started to flick over your lash line at a mere two spanks and you were afraid to ask how many more he had planned.

“Get your hands outta the fuckin’ way or I swear to fuckin’ god.” Carmy smacked at your wrists repeatedly, gathering them up in a single hand and pressing them firmly against the small of your back, keeping them there, daring you to even twitch a finger.

He started again, raining smacks down on your ass in a quick fashion, grunting at your little squeals and sobs when he caught the space where your ass and thighs met— a sensitive spot, you were sure you’d be able to feel it for days after.

“C-carm, it hurts,” you whined, sobbing into the cool marble, drool dripping down your chin, eyes all swirly and glistening with tears that slowly traipsed down your searing cheeks, messing up your makeup that you so prettily put on for him, for carmy.

“Good,” he huffed, reaching up to push your head down and further into the counter. “S’fuckin supposed to.”

You were full on crying now, throat hitching with each inward take of breath, stuttering and sobbing with watery eyes and a runny nose. It felt like torture, the constant flicks of his wrist feeling like forever, you were glad he didn’t make you count them, because you genuinely had no clue, mind a hazy, fuzzy mess.

Carmy watched with a raised brow when little drips of arousal slipped down your inner thighs— he spread your legs, your cunt glistened in the low light of the kitchen, the constant surge of arousal slicking you up, turning you into a sopping mess.

He paused his spankings, reaching his belted hand down to your pussy, running his raised knuckles along your slit, collecting your sweet slick on his skin, a long sticky, silvery line of arousal connecting his hand to your cunt before snapping away.

“You gettin’ off on this?” He scoffed, embarrassing you further, wiping your wetness off his knuckles and onto the skin of your thigh as if it was some hindrance. “So fuckin’ filthy— tryna teach you a lesson and you’re fuckin’ wet?”

“C-can’t help it,” you sniffled, squeezing your thighs together to try and quell the ache in your clit and to stop dripping all over the tiles. “bein’ so mean.”

He chuckled humourlessly, sucking his teeth with his tongue.

“Oh, I’m bein mean, huh?” he cooed, false and sickly sweet, hands palming over your poor, welted globes, soothing them slightly and you melted into his touch, leaning into him— into your carmy, hoping now he’d let up and go easy on you.

Far too gullible, he thought— he wasn’t gonna let you off that easy.

Carm pinched at your sitting spots, the places that hurt the most when he used his belt on them, just above your thighs— the soft, pliable skin blooming with more heat and nothing to soothe the sting.

“I’ll show you fuckin mean,” he spat, loosening his grip and letting the belt clatter to the floor, hands quick with unzipping his fly and pulling his cock out, jeans barely past his thighs. “told you I’d teach you a fuckin’ lesson.”

#let me know what you think!!#send me more smutty asks if you like #for richie too :D #carmen berzatto smut #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto smut #the bear x reader #the bear smut #jeremy allen white x reader

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