Perturbed.

perturbed.

MDNI — 18+ only.

academy!coryo x virgin!reader

summary: in which you and coryo in your relationship reach the point where you want to try sex for the first time — yet it doesn’t go very well.

warnings: p in v, smut, fingering, implied oral sex (f receiving), fluff, distressing theme, read at own risk.

“coryo!” you giggled, your head which was once thrown back now leaning down to cup his beautiful face up to yours, connecting his pillowy lips back onto yours. “—my parents are gonna be home soon, baby.”

“i don’t care,” he murmured. you smiled as you looked down at him, his lips tugging up into a small smirk as he leant down to place peppery kisses along your jaw, to your neck, to your shoulder.

laying in your cozy bed, legs tangled together, you and your boyfriend pawed at each other. your parents had left home a few hours ago, and could be back any minute. however, coriolanus would never let anything get in the way of having his girl, in his arms, with his lips on her.

his hand gently smoothed down your body, reaching your silk shorts, which fortunately granted easy access for his hungry hand to slip underneath. you whimpered at the feeling of his slender finger sliding ever so slowly up your already damp slit through your thin, lacy underwear. “already soaked for me, dove?” coryo whispered against your lips, before gently pulling your panties aside and pressing his thumb against your throbbing clit. an unsolicited moan left your lips. he pushed one of his fingers in, his thumb still slowly rubbing circles over your clit, causing spasms of pleasure through your body. his finger felt so good pumping in and out of you, and your back arched at his touch, your breasts pressing against his chest. the feeling made his rock-hard cock twitch in his boxers, which you felt against your thigh.

oh.

right.

his cock.

in your whole 5 months of dating, you had never really done anything with his dick. simply always throbbing against you whenever you did this. it was always him fingering you, eating you like his last meal, or rubbing your clit till you were on the brink of orgasm. not like you were complaining, of course — but you had nearly forgotten that he had needs too. you wanted - no, ached - to give him the same amount of pleasure he would grant you nearly every fortnight.

while moans left your lips as you neared your orgasm, your mind was still thinking on how you could repay him back. you could jerk him off? no, he deserved better than that. he probably did it every night anyway. you could suck him off? no, too scary.

your mind couldn’t really think of anything else due to your inexperience and, well, because of the second digit he had shoved in you. your mind landed on the last option you had in your love drunk mind.

sex.

your heart skipped a beat at that. nervousness, anticipation, lust. it wouldn’t be your biggest regret, if you ended up breaking up. you concluded. coryo, in your eyes, was a good, loving, and gentle boyfriend. and man. he took care of his cousin, grandma’am, and you. with a deep breath, you pulled your panting lips away from his.

“wait, coryo,” you murmured, looking up at him. he looked angelic in this moment. he hummed back, his eyes changing to concern at your sudden interruption, scanning your face for any discomfort. “i wanna try something.” you whispered.

“i think…” your voice was a small, delicate tone. your eyes watched your finger begin to trail down his abs slowly, too embarrassed on the inside to be making eye contact at this moment. “i think i’m ready. to… have sex.”

his fingers inside you stilled. pulling out of you, he rested the hand on your waist as he used his other to gently pull your chin up to look at him. you obeyed. the look in his eyes was genuine, a caring, comforting look in them. but you saw, behind the honest blue, the hint of primal hunger in them at the thought of fucking you senseless.

“baby… i… are you sure? 100% sure? you’re not pressured by me, right? don’t think you owe me anything, darling.” he assured you, pushing down the intruding thoughts of you bent over his sink as he railed you relentlessly. or your legs hooked over his shoulders as he looked into your eyes whilst abusing your pussy. the scenarios what would race through his mind at night whilst he fisted his cock savagely.

you shook your head, your forehead leaning forward to press against his as you look into his eyes. “no, i know. i want to, coryo. please. i… i need your cock.” you whined, your hips rolling against his extremely stiff dick through his strained boxers.

after a couple more reassurances, he finally was lined up against your cunt, and your heart was beating so fast you thought you were gonna implode. you should be feeling turned on. you should be still gushing at the anticipation of what was about to happen. so why do you feel scared?

coryo didn’t notice at first. he pushed in slowly, checking every second that you were okay. you simply nodded. you didn’t moan. you wanted to. you wanted to be scratching his back, screaming his name, bucking your hips up into his. but instead, you had tears prickling at the corner of your eyes.

everything was muffled, seeming like it was going in slow motion around you. the sounds of his hips slapping against your skin was a distant memory — even though it was happening this very minute.

his grunts and dirty words which left his throat was unfamiliar. it didn’t feel real. the ringing in your ears grew louder and louder, and soon enough tears were streaming down your face.

coryo’s face was buried into the crook of your neck as he thrusted deeply, not realising the sudden blood around his cock inside of you. the way your chest heaved up and down quickly didn’t even occur to him that it was because you were writhing in pain — the whimpers and moans which left your lips was most definitely not of pleasure and the salty wisps of wetness coating your cheeks was not tears of pleasure. it was only the strangled sob of “stop,” that you don’t even remember leaving your mouth was the only thing that got him to look up. the sight of his face dropping and frantic words of worry he spoke wasn’t even audible to you. the feeling of the warm cloth he had gotten from the bathroom to clean up the blood was like having hypoesthesia against your numbness. you were detached from your soul — watching it all happen from above. third person. were you a narrator in your own world?

you were brought back when you felt his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer as he whispered nonstop apologies against your hair, his hands gently cradling you against his chest, in his lap as if you were a priceless china doll which would break if looked at the wrong way. an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over you, and you burst into tears.

it wasn’t meant to be like this. why can’t you get this perturbation out of your body?