The Bet Part 1 (WG Story) (Patreon)

In the dimly lit ambiance of their cozy kitchen, Amy finds solace in a familiar comfort – a large tub of chocolate ice cream. The clock on the wall ticks past midnight, but the allure of a sweet treat proves too tempting to resist. She's nestled against the kitchen counter, the soft glow from the overhead light casting a warm hue over the room. Dressed in a loose-fitting crop top pajama shirt, Amy is the picture of comfort and ease. The shirt, riding up just enough, reveals her full, chubby belly, a gentle reminder of her sweet tooth indulgences.

Rachel, Amy's roommate and the epitome of fitness and athleticism, makes her entrance. Rachel's gym-honed physique is evident even in the casual attire she's wearing – a testament to her disciplined lifestyle.

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Rachel spots Amy indulging in her late-night craving. Seizing the opportunity for a playful tease, she tiptoes quietly behind her unsuspecting roommate. In a swift but subtle motion, she reaches out and gives Amy's love handles a hearty squeeze.

"Enjoying your midnight snack, huh?" Rachel teases, her tone light but pointed.

Startled, Amy whirls around, almost dropping her spoon loaded with a generous scoop of chocolate ice cream.

“Maybe I am, what of it?” Amy retorts, caught off guard and a little embarrassed.

“Looks like someone’s been enjoying their midnight snacks a little too often is all…” Rachel teases, poking her friends belly again, her finger sinking into her soft midsection.

"Pfft, It's not that bad. It’s just a little winter weight" Amy replies through a mouthful of ice cream, her voice tinged with a mix of defensiveness and confidence, her face turning bright red.

Rachel raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips.

“Just a little?”, she challenges, grabbing on to Amy’s love handles once again, this time giving her potbelly a firm jiggle, “this looks like at least 40 pounds of blubber to me”.

Amy squirmed her way free of her roommate's grip.

“I could lose this weight whenever I want," she asserts, standing a bit straighter, as if to emphasize her point, her voice a blend of defensiveness and bravado.

"How about we make a bet?" she proposes, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Amy's curiosity is piqued. She leans against the kitchen counter, spoon still in hand, and raises an eyebrow. "I'm listening," she replies, intrigued by Rachel's sudden shift in tone.

With a confident air, Rachel begins outlining the terms. "How about… for every pound you gain from now on, you owe me twenty dollars," she states, her tone playfully serious.

Amy pauses, her spoon hovering in the air. She mulls over Rachel's proposition, the wheels in her mind turning. A second later, an impish grin spreads across her face, a sign she's concocted a counter-proposal. "Okay," she starts, her grin growing wider. "But for every pound I lose, you have to gain the same amount."

Rachel, caught off guard by this twist, bursts into laughter.

“Fine, you're on. Hope you’ve got enough saved up to pay me."

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.” Amy replies, lifting another spoonful of ice cream to her mouth, to Rachel’s disbelief.

“Are you like, trying to lose this bet intentionally, or?...”, Rachel asks, genuinely bewildered that Amy is still eating the calorie rich dessert.

"I'll start my diet tomorrow," she says nonchalantly, seemingly unfazed by the bet they've just made.

Rachel laughs, a sound of disbelief and amusement mingling together. "Yeah, right, this is going to be the easiest money I’ve ever made," she says, shaking her head as she exits the kitchen.

As Rachel disappears, Amy sits there, a thoughtful look replacing her earlier grin. The game is on, and despite her casual demeanor, a spark of determination ignites within her.

Two weeks later.

Two weeks into their bet, the aroma of freshly baked cookies fills the kitchen. Over the last couple weeks, Rachel had been busy baking all sorts of sweet treats. Ostensibly, she claims it's to hone her baking skills, but her real motive is far more strategic – to tempt Amy into breaking her diet.

However, so far, her efforts seem to be in vain. Rachel can't help but feel both surprised and impressed by Amy's dedication. Against all odds, Amy has been hitting the gym almost every day, sticking religiously to her diet, and steadfastly avoiding the sweet temptations Rachel has been leaving around the house. By all metrics, Rachel should be worried, however, deep down, she knows it's only a matter of time before Amy cracks.

As she takes the golden-brown cookies out of the oven, placing them on the counter to cool, the front door opens. Amy arrives home, fresh from the gym. Rachel can't help but notice Amy's energetic stride and the faint sheen of post-workout sweat on her brow.

"Hey, I made some cookies," Rachel calls out, making sure Amy catches the irresistible smell of the freshly baked treats.

But what catches Rachel's eye next leaves her momentarily speechless. Amy is carrying a large, decadently frosted chocolate cake. Rachel's heart leaps with a mix of triumph and glee, thinking her friend has finally succumbed to her sweet tooth. She can barely contain her smirk as Amy enters the kitchen.

"Looks like you've already got a treat of your own," Rachel comments, her voice dripping with victorious glee.

Amy sets the cake down on the table, right next to the tray of cookies. "Oh, this? It's not for me," she says nonchalantly, her tone casual but with an undercurrent of something more.

Rachel's smile falters, replaced by a look of confusion and a twinge of disappointment. "Then who's it for?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.

Amy's grin widens, a spark of triumph in her eyes. "It's for you," she announces, her voice laced with satisfaction.

"For me? What's the occasion?" Rachel's surprise is evident, her earlier confidence waning slightly.

Amy's grin becomes even larger, if possible. "Well, I've officially lost eight pounds," she declares, her voice brimming with pride.

Rachel is taken aback, her shock mingling with a growing sense of worry. The reality of the bet they made is suddenly very tangible.

Amy places the cake ceremoniously on the table, right alongside Rachel's cookies. Her grin doesn't falter as she looks Rachel straight in the eyes. "Time for you to eat up," she says, her tone playful yet laced with a challenge.