݁ ❛ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ꒱ nate jacobs 𖬺 reader. reader gets curious and checks out nate’s indoor gym. reader knows she shouldn’t play with anything heavy. nate told her to stay out. but nate knows what to do with girls who don’t listen.
𐔌 mild nsfw. meanie nate. gentle ouchies. ꒱ !!
݁ ❛ ✧ 𝐂𝐂 ꒱ first work back after rotapathetic and it had to be nsfw.. felt right. and i’m going through a nate thing so.
can you blame it on boredom? well, you’ll try to if you get caught. but nate is so boring. you basically can’t do anything unless he allows it. no opening doors. no stepping down stairs until he’s in front of you, hand outstretched for you to take. no more walking in heels the second he sees the frown in your brows. and with your kitten heels in one hand, nate, with seemingly ease, will carry you with the other. as stated; he’s boring.
so when you tried to safely lift the smallest dumbbell you saw off the rack, you wondered why nate was so worried. this feels like nothing. the lightest thing you’ve picked up. you also feel light. maybe because one second the weight was in your hand, and the next, it was dropped to the padded floor, and you were no longer touching the floor.
“and what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” his arms were crossed at your back, pushing you into him, digging your lower stomach into his chunky belt. you were too focused on his anxious, angry face and raised brow to notice the hurt, though.
your arms, locked in his grip, tried to attempt a meek shrug. please don’t be mad, please don’t be mad, it was small.. “i just wanted to see if i could lift it.. an-and i did! it was small, nate. i barely felt it..”
nate was already shaking his head before you could finish, exasperated look upon his face. the scares he has to put himself through dealing with you.
“baby..” he blew the word out in a breath, “that was forty pounds you were trying to pick up with one hand. did you even read it? could you see the small numbers engraved into the side? could you not use your head for two seconds before you decided to pick something up? do something i explicitly told you not to? you can’t even disobey me correctly.” he chuckled.
but he didn’t find it funny. when nate’s mad, it doesn’t read as said emotion in his words. it reads as humor. so no one really knows if he’s being serious. if he’s seriously mad. but you have a feeling he is.
“and you barely felt it because i didn’t let it stay in your grip for more than a second. because i have some sort of sense when you’re doing something you know you’re not supposed to.”
your lips twisted to the side, trying to fight off a frown at the now noticeable pain pressing onto your belly. “oh.. i didn’t know. it looked small.. i won’t do it again..”
nate pushed his forehead onto yours, lowering you slowly back to the floor. he sighed deeply, twisting his head while on yours. maybe it actually was heavy. maybe it did hurt. because nate keeps doing things without you really noticing. keeps touching you. so when his calloused, hard hands starting slipping into the cotton material of your lacy panties, your brain barely processed it. as nate tried to find solace in softly kneading you with his hands, he licked his lips, taking in a gulp.
“you know what else is small and unknowingly dangerous?” the question sounded rhetorical. but you still shook your head against his, your neck straining to look at his closed eyes.
then he opened them and took a hand from your underwear, using a finger to boop your nose. “you, silly.. i had no clue you could give me this much anxiety on a daily basis. and i let so much slide.. i always let you walk away all pretty, not a thought going through your head that i’m mad at you. because i’m not.. never mad at you, baby, no..” he mumbled softly, “but i do get upset at the thought you could’ve hurt yourself..”
you thought this was your opening to try to make him feel better. so you softly smiled up at him, a genius idea floating in your head. it sounded so smart to you to say, “but i didn’t. i never got hurt.. because you’re always there! you always stop me from hurting.. you’re such a good boyfriend.”
and you thought maybe this would soothe nate. calm him down from his worries. but my gosh, you shouldn’t have opened your mouth right then.
he matches your soft smile, hands coming up to press into your hair and gently massage your head. and it felt good for a moment. you thought it worked. then the pressing turned into gripping, and your hands shot out to wrap around his wrists. but you didn’t dare attempt to move his arms. nate does what he does, and you take it.
he softly tsked, pulling his head back from yours. “but maybe i’m too good.. maybe for once, i should let you feel how scared i am in those moments. how i fear for your life over mine every time, and i’m not being dramatic baby, the smallest scrape on you feels like a gunshot to my chest, and i’d rather be shot at over and over than let a single hair on your head come out of place..”
you sucked in a breath, your head swaying gently as nate moved it with his hands. he cooed, leaning in closer, eyes widened slightly and brows raised like he was a approaching a scared kitten.
“but it’s not your fault, no, my baby is never wrong. but she does do things that upsets me.. and i think now’s the right time to pay her her consequences, yeah? do you think so, sweetheart?”
that sounded.. reasonable. yeah. of course. you knew nate cared about you. but you didn’t know it felt like that. so of course. of course nate could give you your consequences.
you nodded. the side of nate’s mouth gently lifted before it dropped back down, his face turning stern. he rose his back to stand up straight, reminding you of your polarizing heights. and with his hands still on your head, he controlled your feet, moving them to stand over the dumbbell that lie on the floor. your legs were spread on its sides while nates legs were together, straight. you stood with a bigger, nate’s shirt on, a pair of panties from a matching set, sans the bra, and fuzzy ankle socks that you felt your toes curling into.
nate stood fully clothed, jeans that felt harsh on your supple skin a few moments ago, blank round colored shirt, that chunky leather belt with the shiny buckle you also felt, and gym shoes. polarizing.
“now i know you can’t lift these little things..” little to him, “but can you do a squat, just bend your knees, lower yourself to the floor for me, hm?”
you nodded excitedly. you could do that. and as your lacy coated underside slowly got closer to the floor did you finally glance down, remembering the metal equipment between your legs. you looked back up to nate, and at his nod, you understood he was answering your unspoken question. all the way down?
and so you sat on the hard, black and silver weight, your knees slightly outstretched on your sides to fit yourself onto it. nate’s hands remained on your face, placing your head at his crotch level without him having to bend down with you. you looked up at him through wispy lashes. what now?
“comfortable?” nate asked. you nodded, but you didn’t feel it. not really.. it was pressing. and a dumbbell is an awkward shape. it’s pointy. barely has flat sides. but it was fine. if nate wanted you to feel it, you would. comfortable.
“good, good.. that’s good..” his voice was so soft, if it weren’t just you two in the room, if just one other person was walking around you guys, you wouldn’t be able to hear him. you could hear the sharp, dry sounds of his swallowing and lip licks.
your breaths went in and out, waiting for his next command. your hair sounded like whispers pressed against your ears. heart pattering, trying not to think about the feeling down there, and focus only on nate’s words.
he sniffed, “now this is called a rep, okay? you have to keep count and do repeating counts of the same action..” your brow softly furrowed, but you still nodded. always.
“so you’re going to do a rep of hip presses. three counts of ten, we’ll start with..”
you hesitantly looked to the dumbbell, then up to nate. hip..? you pressed your knees into the mat beneath them, rolling your hips softly onto the weight.
the gasp pushed out of you, stopped quickly by your own control. oh.. you rolled your lips into your mouth, seeking approval up at nate. “like.. like that?”
he nodded down at you, that sickly soft voice speaking up again, “just like that.. good job.. now nine more.”
you quickly nodded. right, you could do that. and with another roll into the weight, you let your gasp push out again. hands pressed onto the mat in front of you, you felt your elbow wiggle. but it wasn’t from holding up your weight. because you weren’t. you were putting it all onto the weight and floor. completely.
and you kept going. the friction started to feel less giving as you went on. because your little cotton piece started to soak. because wet on dry doesn’t slide against each other easily. because your little whimpers and small squeaks of breath started to make sense to your ears. this doesn’t hurt at all. as much as it probably should, it doesn’t.
and nate notices. and it’s all he wants. to make you feel good. but this was a form of punishment, and you couldn’t feel too good. “i guess the gym isn’t that scary to you, huh?”
you shook your head, coming to a stop at the end of your first rep. you twitched with the need to keep going. to keep pressing. but nate didn’t tell you to start the second rep yet. “no, it’s not..”
nate moved his features to express a look of understanding. “i get it.. i get that. not so scary like it was for my first time.. a guy bigger than me hovering over me, waiting for me to slip up. shouting at me to get it right. to keep pushing. because he knew i could do it.. and i know you can, too.”
you’d do whatever nate asked. whatever he believes in you to be true. accomplishable. because like you said; he’s a good boyfriend.
“so maybe i should be a little more.. supportive of you. you did those ten just fine, that was really good, baby. you’re going to do ten more for me. and you’re going to count with me. because we can’t forget the counting. and you’re going to think of why i’m making you do this.”
you nodded again. and when you went to do your first hip press, nate, with his hands still on your head, pulled your head a little closer to him. to that belt. making you roll for longer than you were. making you drag against the weight.
“ah..!” your mouth was close to pressing against that little spot beneath his belt. right where the little hump pressed out against his jeans. your pussy quivered. you clenched at the feeling of stopping.
“do it like that, now. work yourself a little harder. because you deserve it, hm? you deserve a little workout for making your boyfriend so scared. i was so worried, baby, i couldn’t handle the thought of you popping something out of place, of you dropping it on yourself..”
you kept going as nate spoke. slower this time like he wanted. you started finding purchase on the little flat area of the dumbbell. you started liking it. and with little moans seeping out of your lips, your head started feeling fuzzy being mixed with nate’s words. your pussy lips didn’t feel like they were getting caught anymore. it didn’t feel tricky. your were sliding just fine. and the hard equipment piece felt just as hard as nate looked right in front of you. you wondered if it actually would feel as hard.
“three, you’re at three. i told you to count.” his stern voice reminded you. you nodded, squeezing your eyes shut to focus on speaking. your brain felt like it wasn’t allowing you to. like it was only telling you press, roll, drag..
“three.. four..” you counted along.
and nate went on, “but now i think i shouldn’t have even felt so scared. maybe this is what you were doing all along. you wanted to pick this weight up, drop it to the floor, and start doing this yourself. is that it? was i not giving you enough attention? even when i made you go brain dead last night after pulling your fourth orgasm out that you swore you couldn’t? was that not enough? was i gone for too long you thought this thing could make up for me? for my length, my size?”
“five..” you could feel your lace slipping. you could feel the dumbbell somehow pulling your pantries from your pussy. leaving them in one spot while you moved to two spots on the little flat surface. front and back.
your felt yourself bunch into the little square. chasing more. the surface wasn’t that long. but you wanted it to last even longer than nate made you go. and you realized this isn’t enough. it’s not nate. it’s not nate’s longer rubbing tool. the one you liked better. the one you could squirm against as nate pulled and pushed you over it, hands rough on your sides, controlling your movements in bed. dragging your little sounds out. this isn’t the same. so now your little whimpers weren’t sounding from pleasure.
they were sounding from sadness. sadness that this isn’t nate’s cock. that nothing could ever be nate’s cock. and all you could do is listen to his teasing words as you counted to a new number you didn’t even know was in order or not.
“yeah, it’s not the same, you know that..” nate continued. and with a push forward, your head came into contact with the little spot. with the tent in nate’s jeans. your mouth immediately widened around it. out of habit. you pressed yourself closer, your tongue flapping out of your mouth at your pant, tasting the denim. you stayed still at the tip of the weight. no more.. just nate.. just nate.. want nate..
he tsked, tilting his head down at you. “did you forget your numbers? you’re not at ten yet.”
your shook your head against him. “i don’t think i can.. i don’t know if i can keep going,” you whispered, your mouth forming the words over nate’s print.
“no?” he cooed. “you tapping out already? why? you were doing so good.. is it because.. is it because your little cunt can’t handle it anymore? it’s not you. it’s her isn’t it? it misses me, huh? doesn’t like this new little thing it’s rubbing against. my baby’s little cunt can’t stand not having me pressing onto it, making it feel this good anymore. because it’s not me..” your hips twitched at his words, stuttering. “mm.. mhm..”
you felt yourself tonguing at nate. mapping the feel of him with your mouth if you couldn’t use your pussy. your hands came up from the floor, pressing into his thighs. “i just wan..” you mumbled, clumsy hands sliding up to that belt.
nate quickly slid his fingers beside yours, holding your hands still against his legs. “yeah, i know.. i know what you need. you’re so lucky i’m a nice boyfriend. i’ll let you stop..” the last word came out as a grunt. because you were still pressing your mouth over his cock. head fuzzy enough to trick you into thinking you’re tasting him. tasting the skin. the salty white. delusional enough to think you were really wrapping your lips around him. but you weren’t. and even though you weren’t, nate was feeling all of the affects as though you actually were.
you nodded. “please..” he knew what you were asking for. the actual thing. but nate didn’t feel your punishment was actually over. and he couldn’t control himself and longer. keeping one hand on your head, he gently pulled your hair, moving your head back so he could use his other hand to quickly undo his belt, gritting his teeth at the blissed out look on your face and you hadn’t even came yet. but the loud, clanky sounds never sounded more peaceful next to your ear. finally, that thing is coming off.
he pushed his jeans down only slightly, letting his cock be the only thing exposed behind his underwear. he roughly stroked himself over his briefs as he softly murmured, “she want me? she begging for me? she tired of that sad excuse of relief? she trying so hard to make this work but she knows where home is and knows that isn’t it? yeah? is your cunt as hungry for me as much as i am for her? baby, it hurts to stand here watching you go back and forth on that thing. it physically hurts knowing that’s giving you the smallest amount of pleasure when i know i can make you feel so much better. i know exactly what to give you. and you know i can’t stay upset at that face for long. that pretty fucking face. with those soft lips on me, thinking they’re tasting me. my god, you’re so empty in the head baby. all you can feel right now is me, huh?”
“yes, please..” you felt yourself rocking again. because that’s what this is. this isn’t a work out. you were humping the dumbbell. slipping and sliding on it like it was nate. you bunched and bunched, fingers gripping nates, moans spilling out, falling deaf on your now ringing ears. “mm.. aah.. please..”
nate took himself out, hand flashing in front of your face, going back and forth, as you did the same. you were both just going back and forth, giving yourselves pleasure all on your guys’ own. but somehow, without one touching the other, you were both touching. you both felt it.
“go ahead, baby, give yourself your after workout treat. you did so good, you deserve your treat. give it to yourself, baby..”
and when you did let go.. when you felt nate do the same on your face, when you heard his grunts mixed with your little sounds.. did you finally understand the hype of the gym. how it feels so good to guys. this is worth it. worth the body exertion.
you blinked through the stream on your eyes, peering up at nate. his chest puffed in and out, hand coming up to rub what shot on it onto your mouth. “hmf..” his chest constricted, twitching with an aftershock. “good job, baby. thank you.. thank you for listening, thank you for giving me that, thank you so much..”
and you didn’t even let yourself pause to wonder why nate was thanking you.
