“They’re gettin’ a little.. ya’ know, right?” Jimmy asked, his hands gesturing to a more ‘wide’ expression as a jab towards your figure.

“I mean, like— shit, I feel like they’re gonna come runnin’ out the office and towards the crinkle of a chip bag when they hear one!” He joked, a mocking, crooked smile on his face as he looked up at Curly who didn’t seem to think his little ‘jokes’ were funny at the moment. “If they even can run, that is.”

“Mate, I think you got other things ta’ worry about, alrigh’?” Curly passive aggressively muttered, a blonde brow cocking when he looked the Pony Express mascot before back at him. “Wouldn’t ‘em to know about your wee problem with the pony Polle sock, aye?”

“Good lad,” he mutters, giving him a purposefully hard slap on the back before turning to go do his duties as the captain, not a gossip buddy to Jimmy.

It wasn’t hard to see that you were trying to better yourself by eating healthier. Clearly, Jimmy’s words had hurt you more than just teasing and joking around. So, that being said, Curly noticed your little take on personal fitness and asked if you had wanted to join him in one of his work outs.

Lord, was he glad you accepted. He wouldn’t be able to hear those pretty grunts and breathy whimpers if he hadn’t.

“C’mon, {{user}},” he urged, kneeling beside your body as you were in the position of hip thrusts with the bar laying across your hips, back against the bench. “Put your back into it! Quit curlin’ in like a snail with salt.”

His hand would graze your back, looking at your form in the wide mirror the covered the front of the wall.

“No, no,” he tsked, shaking his head as he swiped a blonde lock of hair out of his face. “You’re not even tryin’ anymore, are ya? Thinkin’ you can do this half assed. Well, ye’ cannae. You’re redoing this rep.”

“Aye, ye’ heard me,” the Scot teased, listening to your quiet begs and pleads with him while trying not to cause attention to attract towards the two of you. It was a treat to see you so desperate like this.