Having a coregasm with rensuke kunigami.
Fem reader
2nd pov
A coregasm if u didn’t know is an exercised induced orgasm. Hope u like it. Ive been doing nothing but writing recently
Mdni. Pls nd thx
You grip the edges of the workout bench a little tighter than necessary, your heart hammering from more than just the effort. The gym is relatively quiet this time of day, the clang of weights and low hum of treadmills distant. Rensuke Kunigami stands behind you like a solid wall of muscle and focus, his large hands hovering near your sides as he spots you on the decline sit-up machine. His orange hair sticking to his forehead from the sweat, a few strands loose from the intense session he’s already put you through.
“You’re doing great,” he says, voice low and steady, the way it always gets when he’s in trainer mode. “Just a few more. Keep your core tight—don’t arch your back.”
You’re not athletic. Not even close. But Kunigami had been so earnest when he suggested you come with him today—“I’ll go easy. I just want to spend time with you”—that you couldn’t say no. Half an hour in and your muscles are already screaming. Sweat clings to your skin, your tank top sticking uncomfortably. Still, the way his eyes track your form with protective intensity makes the burn worth it.
You curl up again, exhaling sharply as your abs contract hard. The decline angle forces your core to work overtime. Kunigami’s hands brush lightly against your waist to steady you on the way down, warm and calloused from years of training. The contact sends a spark through you—unexpected, electric.
Another rep. Your body tightens, that deep, building pressure in your lower abdomen growing sharper than simple fatigue. You try to breathe through it, but on the next slow, controlled rise, the friction of your shorts against you combined with the intense core engagement hits differently. A sudden, involuntary wave of heat floods your pelvis.
“Ah—!” The sound slips out before you can stop it, breathy and surprised.
Kunigami freezes. “Hey, easy. You okay? We can stop if—”
You don’t stop. Your body doesn’t let you. The next contraction rolls through you stronger, a deep, pulsing throb centered low in your core. Your thighs tremble. Pleasure—sharp, unexpected, and embarrassingly intense—crashes over you without warning. A coregasm. You’ve heard of them in passing, but never experienced one, especially not here.
Your back arches slightly despite his instructions, a soft, broken moan escaping your lips as the orgasm peaks. Your inner muscles clench rhythmically, waves of slick heat spreading through you. Your legs shake, toes curling in your sneakers. It’s mortifyingly public even if the gym is sparse, and the fact that Kunigami is right there, watching, only heightens everything.
His eyes widen, golden-brown and shocked. “What the—? Shit.” His voice drops to a rough whisper. The confident, heroic striker who dominates the pitch looks completely thrown for the first time. His hands move instinctively, one bracing your lower back to support you as the aftershocks start, the other gently gripping your hip to keep you from sliding off the bench. “Breathe. I’ve got you.”
You slump back against the decline, chest heaving, face burning hotter than any workout could cause. Little ripples of pleasure continue to pulse through your core, making your abs flutter under your damp shirt. A soft whimper leaves you with each lingering contraction.
Kunigami’s face is flushed, not just from exertion. He leans in closer, shielding your body with his broad frame as if trying to hide what just happened from the rest of the world. “Was that…?” He swallows, voice husky. “Did you just— from the sit-ups?”
You nod weakly, too embarrassed to speak at first. Another aftershock hits and your hips twitch involuntarily. His grip tightens, steadying you through it, thumb unconsciously stroking small circles against your waist.
“Easy,” he murmurs, voice gentler now, almost reverent. “Just ride it out. I’m right here.” One hand slides up to brush damp hair from your forehead, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so powerfully built. He stays close, murmuring quiet encouragement between your shaky breaths. “You’re safe. Let it happen. Fuck… I didn’t expect that. You looked so good pushing through the set and then—”
He cuts himself off, clearly fighting his own reaction. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his breathing has grown heavier too.
When the strongest waves finally ease, leaving you limp and tingling, Kunigami carefully helps you sit up fully. His arms wrap around you in a supportive hug, pulling you against his solid chest. You can hear his heart racing.
“You alright?” he asks, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. There’s still shock in his tone, but it’s melting into something warmer, protective, and unmistakably turned on. “We’re done for today. No more sets. Let’s get you some water and… somewhere more private if you need to recover.”
His hand rubs slow, soothing strokes up and down your back as residual tremors fade. You bury your face in his shoulder, equal parts mortified and exhilarated, while Kunigami holds you like he never plans to let go.
“Next time,” he whispers against your hair, a hint of that familiar determined grin creeping back into his voice, “we’ll figure out how to make that happen on purpose.”
