Eliza loves the Christmas season. What’s there not to love? Spending time with family, playing in the snow, exchanging gifts, being extra cozy in the house to stay warm, and her wedding anniversary is in the same month. Those are the reasons Eliza loves December, and most people know this about her. However, there is another reason Eliza loves Christmas that no one besides her knows about. 

Every time Winter rolls around, her dearest husband Hamilton gains some weight. She knows ‘Winter Weight’ is a completely normal phenomenon, and she’s convinced that she’s the only one who notices it. 

Up until recently, that is.

The usual cycle for years has been that Hamilton would gain some weight in winter, but by the time Spring came it all seemed to magically disappear, as if it were never there in the first place. There’s a hidden sort of disappointment Eliza feels whenever this happens. She finds herself not minding when her husband gets a bit softer. She finds herself preferring him that way. He becomes even more endearing and adorable, and at night when they’re alone, she finds that the extra flesh on his butt and legs only adds to his beauty.

Luckily for Eliza, she didn’t need to feel disappointed anymore. Over the past three years, her Hamilton has not been losing all of his winter weight. As far as she could tell, he seems to keep a small amount of the winter weight permanently. Then, when Winter comes again, more precious padding is added, and the cycle continues. The result delights Eliza tremendously; every year her Hamilton gets just a bit more chubbier.

---

When it is December once more, Eliza wastes no time in cooking and baking to her heart’s content. She loves to bake, though she doesn’t care much about eating the fruits of her labor. Thankfully she has children and a husband to take care of that. Though, Eliza sees to it that most of her baking endeavors go to her husband. 

Unlike his wife, Hamilton is extremely fond of sweets and baked goods. Eliza has no trouble at all in convincing him to try her baked treats. In fact, there’s no convincing required! She simply has to find him in the house (whether that be in his office working, or in the living room reading) and place a plate of freshly made treats in front of him. Kisses are a frequent bonus! 

---

On a particularly chilly December morning, Hamilton found himself in front of the dresser. He'd woken up early (which wasn't unusual) and wished to get dressed. The only problem was that his clothes didn't seem to fit! The suit he'd picked wasn't old, he'd only had it since last year. 

Hamilton tried in vain to button his waistcoat and breeches, but the fabric could only stretch so much. The breeches seemed to be especially difficult to put on. He had to jump and wiggle just to try and get them up his plush thighs. Unfortunately, he was unable to pull them up past his butt, which had gotten much wider since the last time he'd worn these pair of breeches. Hamilton didn't even have them on completely, and it already felt like a second skin, uncomfortably squeezing his soft flesh. 

The breeches were swiftly thrown to the floor, purely out of frustration and panic. The waistcoat was on, though unbuttoned. Hamilton didn't have the chance to button them because a confused and tired Eliza asked, "Sweetheart?"

The sounds of Hamilton struggling as he tried to fit in his clothes woke Eliza up. She was annoyed at first, but when she opened her eyes and saw a pair of breeches strewn on the floor and a promising little belly peeking out from an unbuttoned waistcoat, she was more than delighted. 

Hamilton was not so delighted. His eyes went wide and his face quickly turned a bright shade of pink. "Betsey! I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you!" Eliza sat up, stretched, got out of bed and walked over to him. 

Playing dumb, she asked, "What are you doing so early in the morning?" 

Hamilton's posture shrank in an attempt to hide himself. "I was getting dressed. Or...well, I was trying to get dressed. There were some...uh...wardrobe malfunctions."

Eliza giggled and lightly smacked his butt. "I can see that! I don't know why you thought that thing would ever fit in there," she pointed to the discarded breeches. 

She hadn't thought it possible, but Hamilton's face got even more red. He began stuttering, eventually looking down at the floor in shame. "I thought- it fit last year."

"That was last year. But it's no problem, just take it to the tailor. Easy fix," Eliza smiled warmly and snaked a hand under the back of his waistcoat to stroke his back. 

"I suppose...I'm sorry. You deserve better. You must be repulsed." 

There was a deep sadness that stirred up inside of her when she heard that. "Oh, dear...don't say that." Eliza gave him a reassuring smile before continuing. 

"I could never be repulsed by you, and…" she sheepishly looked away, "I actually prefer you this way. All soft and squishy." She wrapped her arms around Hamilton and kissed his cheek. 

"I think you're much cuter and sexier." 

Hamilton laughed and shook his head, disbelieving. "You're just saying that to make me feel better."

"No. Really. Seriously, Alexander, I know we never talked about this but you never got any hints? Not even once?"

"...what do you mean?"

"I spend most of my free time baking even though I don't like sweets, you're the first person they go to, I keep giving you treats, I do this every winter, I always encourage you to eat, and we make more love during the winter. None of that made you suspicious?"

Hamilton paused, mouth slightly open. "Oooohhh. I never gave it much thought, but now that you point it out it makes a lot of sense." 

He paused again, looked at Eliza slightly offended, and said, "Wait! You planned this!"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Planned? No, I simply count on it...every year, and then watch. And encourage, of course. But I never made you do anything." She grinned coyly and put a hand on his stomach. 

"Please don't be upset with me."

"You exploit my weakness!" Hamilton replied jokingly. "I'm not upset. Just surprised. You cunning little thing!" 

"And what would your weakness be?" she asked curiously. 

"Sweet things and flattery."

"Good thing I've mastered both!" Eliza gave him a kiss. 

"You know...I wouldn't mind if you stayed like this all year. It's always so sad when spring comes and it's gone…" she smirked. "Or, more recently, some of it is gone." Her hand that was stroking his back dropped down and squeezed his butt. Hamilton groaned lowly. 

"Only if you want to, of course," she purred. 

Eliza felt an arm wrap around her back and pull her closer. "I'll think about it," Hamilton replied. "Definitely tempting… now that I know about your preferences, I find the idea worth investigating."

"The idea of being my chubby little hubby?" Eliza teased.

"Yes, but please never say that ever again," he replied, laughing. 

She grinned widely, "You're not ones to make demands around here. We both know who's in charge."

Hamilton snorted. "Right. Sorry. Please exert mercy on me, my dearest angel, and never say that phrase ever again."

"That's much better!" Eliza nodded approvingly. 

---

Much later that same day, when the children had been put to bed and the house was quiet, Eliza dragged Hamilton to the living room. She'd been teasing, groping, and kissing him the entire day. He had absolutely no complaints. "Betsey? What's this?"

In front of Hamilton was a plate filled with some leftovers from dinner, some pastries, and a piece of cake. Eliza sat down next to him and took his hand. "Can we try something new?" she asked nervously. 

"What's new about this? It looks like a plate our children would assemble." 

Eliza laughed, "I want you to eat it, idiot."

"But it's so much!"

"That's the point."

"I don't understand you," Hamilton rolled his eyes playfully. "But if that's what my angel wants, I'll try to fulfill her wish."

"Yes! Think of it like you're giving me my Christmas present early."

Hamilton nodded and began to clear the plate. He started with the dinner leftovers. When he'd finished eating them, Eliza picked up a pastry from the plate and held it up to his mouth. He raised a brow but took a bite anyway. She cooed and stroked his face, "Good boy~" Hamilton didn't get why this delighted her so much, but he had to admit he liked it too, especially the praise. 

By the time he'd gotten to the slice of cake, he was quite full. "Ugh, Betsey, I can't," Hamilton groaned. 

Eliza was prepared. "Yes, you can! Just a little slice and then we can snuggle in bed." 

He whined, only relenting once she rubbed his belly and he discovered its soothing effects. The walk back to their bedroom was torturous. Hamilton collapsed into their bed. Luckily, he had already been in his nightshirt, so there were no ill fitting clothes to make the experience more painful. Eliza joined him in bed. She used one hand to soothe his aching stomach, the other to explore the rest of him.

"You did very well, my love," she praised, stroking his thick thighs. Hamilton shuddered and moaned quietly. 

"You never fail to surprise me...mh…" 

The hungry-ham in the top right is from 1778, and the chubby hams are from 1791.

(also, in case it's not easy to understand, ham tried going to bed after barely eating dinner, but his stomach wouldnt shut up.)

This is also for this anon:

((Happy birthday, Eliza! I thought it only appropriate to write something for you guys on such an important day. Modern AU but with historical appearances, though you can imagine them however you want. I certainly can’t stop you :) ))

It was already dark by the time Eliza’s birthday celebrations had ceased. It was even darker by the time they'd said farewell to guests and got all of the children to bed. All that was left to do was clean up the mess left from the party and then tuck themselves into bed. However, Eliza, the birthday girl herself, had other plans.  

Alexander was standing on a step stool, trying to get a banner off the wall, while Eliza cleared off the tables. She briefly stopped to stare at her husband as she returned from putting dishes in the kitchen sink. She was standing behind him, and since he was higher up and leaning forward to procure the banner, she got a wonderful view of his plush behind. 

Eliza smirked to herself as she went into the living room to throw wrapping paper leftover from when she’d opened presents earlier. While she filled the trash bag, she said, mock innocently, “You know, there’s still one present you haven’t given me yet.”

Luckily, Alexander was quick to get the hint, which he more often than not didn’t. “Oh? I think you're right. How could I forget? I’ll have to amend that then.” As he put the banner under his arm and prepared to get off of the step ladder, Eliza came up from behind him and slapped his butt, just to run her message home; and for her own amusement, of course. Alexander squeaked in response, which only pleased her further.

Both of them quickly, if not hastily, finished up cleaning the house. Eliza had grabbed Alexander’s hand and all but dragged him into their bedroom. Once they got there, she pushed him onto the bed, pinning him down. He laid there submissively as Eliza sat down on top of him. She effortlessly undid the first few buttons of Alexander’s shirt as she said, “Stay there. I’ll be right back.” 

He watched in confusion as she left the room. He nevertheless stayed obedient and didn’t move an inch until she returned. She was holding a plate that had the leftovers of her birthday cake on it when she came back. “Betsy, why did you bring the sorry remnants of your birthday cake into our bedroom?” 

Eliza laughed and closed the door, “Sorry remnants? I’ll have you know that it’s going to be your job to eat all of those sorry remnants.” 

Alexander quickly sat up and whined loudly. “You want me to...again? Why do you make me do such things?”

She rolled her eyes at his dramatic phrasing and set the cake onto his nightstand. “It’s my birthday, you have to.” He whined once again and added a pout to match, hoping his begging would dissuade her. It did the opposite, in fact. Eliza knew that he too enjoyed her preferences in bed, he was just being stubborn for the sake of it. 

“Fine, I guess I’ll oblige you, but only because it’s your birthday!” he said, trying and failing to sound begrudging. Alexander was just as excited as Eliza was. 

She grinned widely and pounced on him, quickly unbuttoning the rest of his shirt. Said shirt was thrown onto the floor, followed by all of the other clothes Alexander and Eliza had been wearing. His hair tie was yanked out; he was pushed back onto the bed. She hovered over him, doing nothing but admiring her beautiful husband. 

To her, Alexander was perfect (physically, at least). He had all of the attributes Eliza loved. Her favorite was his soft figure, with his doughy thighs, round belly, and squishy cheeks (of both varieties). Alexander was embarrassed by this and rolled over, his cheeks just as red as his hair. “May I ask what you’re doing, my angel?” 

“Just admiring my beloved,” she replied huskily, running a hand through his dark red curls.

“It’s your birthday, you should be the one who’s being admired.”

“No. It’s my birthday, I get to do whatever I want.” Eliza grinned victoriously as Alexander gave up. He always surrendered to her, just as it ought to be. 

She got off of him, picked up the plate, and handed it to him when he sat up. After only a moment's hesitation, Alexander took his first bite. He loved cake, Eliza knew, and soon the plate was entirely cleared off. “I can’t believe you made me do that,” he complained as if he hadn’t willingly eaten his favorite food. 

She gave him a loving kiss and delighted in the fact that his lips tasted like cake. After, Alexander groaned and laid down, rolling onto his side. “Aww, does your stomach hurt?” Eliza cooed, laying down next to him and gently stroking the afflicted area.

“I ate half of a cake, what do you think?” 

“Getting testy, are we?” she teased affectionately. “I know just the thing to make you feel better.”

She went to the other side of the bed, leaning down and peppering his sensitive stomach with kisses. Alexander sighed happily and closed his eyes, enjoying the treatment very much. Eliza wrapped one arm around him, cuddling close, and using the other to rub gentle circles on his belly. Indeed, this did wonders in lifting Alexander’s mood and getting rid of his stomach ache. Eliza once again got on top of him and did the other thing she really wanted to do.

---

With both of them a panting and sweaty heap in the sheets, Eliza pulled Alexander even closer. He wrapped an arm around her and nuzzled his face into her neck, kissing her neck and shoulder. She lazily kissed his chest in return, but it wasn’t long before they had both fallen asleep.

//Ask and you shall receive! I hope you enjoy it!

"Hamilton."

He looked up at Eliza. It was dark. The room was lit only by a single candle and the moonlight streaming in from the window. He was illuminated by the candle, revealing a pale, sickly face. "Yes, Betsy, my dear?"

She placed her hands under Hamilton's arms and managed to pull him up, eliciting a small whine from him.

Eliza could pull him up with no issue…

"You need to eat something. You have not been eating lately. I am starting to get worried." He squirmed and dropped his quill. Hamilton’s hands were stained with blotches of black ink.

"I am sorry, my angel. I did not mean to worry you...I have just been so busy." She sighed and shook her head, pulling him out of the room with relative ease. He complied with little resistance.

"I know that. If you really do not want to worry me, then you will come and eat something." Hamilton really had started to wither away. He had always been overly devoted to his work, but he was going through a particularly bad streak lately. It was common for him to work himself into sickness, but he had never lost this much weight before. Hamilton was all skin and bones, and there had not been much of him to begin with! Eliza dreaded to see him in such a state.

"Of course, my love. You are completely right, as always." He took her hand and followed her to the dining room. She smiled smugly.

"That is right, and do not forget it."

On the table was a rather large plate filled to the brim with food. He stared at it as if it were a scary monster. “You do not expect me to eat all of that, do you?”

Eliza pushed Hamilton into the chair and lorded over him with her hands on her hips. “Oh, yes. We are not leaving until the entire plate is empty. You are worse than our children when it comes to finishing your food!”

He looked up at her with pleading eyes, hoping to charm his way out of the situation. Not today, though, she deemed this too important. He gave up, sighed, and began to eat his late dinner. After a few bites, Hamilton asked, “Are you not going to eat something as well?”

“I have already had dinner with the rest of the family.” He felt a twinge of guilt for not having joined them. Averting his gaze from Eliza, he quietly continued to eat. Was this some sort of punishment from her? With only a fourth of the plate eaten, he put his fork down and looked up at her.

“I am full.” Hamilton placed a hand on his stomach.

“Awe, that is bad for you, is it not?” Eliza put her hand on his shoulder and forced him back down as he tried to stand up. He took her hand and kissed it.

“Please, I cannot eat anymore. I will go to bed with you, please do not make me finish it.” She had to admit she found Hamilton’s attempts to get out of this very endearing. She smiled fondly at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek.

“You are very cute, but I am afraid I cannot let you do that. You have hardly eaten a thing! You are finishing your plate.” Eliza paused as she realized her firmness would not work. She had to initiate the guilt trip, then.

“Do you not like it?”

He quickly shook his head and replied, “Of course not! Your cooking is great as always-”

“Then I do not see the problem.” Hamilton opened his mouth to protest but soon closed it again. He pouted, utterly defeated, and picked up the fork again.

Eliza smiled triumphantly and ruffled his hair, “Good boy.”

He made sure to whine and complain the entire time, but eventually, the plate was cleared. She cleaned it up before coming back to help Hamilton stand up. “And now it is bedtime,” she announced, dragging her husband to their bedroom.

He uncharacteristically flopped onto the bed and rolled over onto his side. “Betsy, my stomach hurts. Why did you make me do that?” Eliza sat down next to Hamilton and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Oh darling, it was for your own good.” He shook his head and groaned once more.

“My stomach and I beg to differ,” he countered. She shook her head and began to unbutton Hamilton’s waistcoat.

“Only because it is not used to eating as it should.”

“I suppose you are right, but did you need to be so rough with me?”

Eliza had to laugh. “Rough? Well then, I will have to make it up to you, won’t I?”

He did not respond, being in too much pain to come up with something to say. She did feel bad, just a little, but it was hard to feel too bad when her husband was so adorable like this. Once he was only in his shirt, she climbed into bed next to him. Eliza put a hand on Hamilton’s stomach and began to rub it in small circles. A sigh of relief came from him, he was already feeling much better. This was not so bad after all, he thought. It got even better when she peppered his aching belly with kisses. After a while, Eliza noticed that Hamilton did not have that pained expression on his face, so she ceased her actions.

This immediately elicited a whine from him. “Why did you stop?”

She grinned and kissed him. “My mistake, I did not think you needed it.”

Ahhh, thank you for your request! I hope you like it...I might have strayed from the prompt a bit and I’m sorry if it’s too long.

/////

Eliza breathed in the sweet scent of her Hamilton, her face deeply nuzzled in his neck. A light chuckle arose from his throat due to her breathing tickling him. He reached over and blew out the candle on their nightstand. The room was enveloped in almost complete darkness. Eliza could only make out her Hamilton's vague shape.

She closed her eyes and snuggled into his chest, humming in delight. She could feel his arm wrap around her waist and pull her closer. Eliza did much the same, wrapping her arm around her husband's waist. She couldn't see much in the darkness of the room but swore that something felt different.

Softer.

As discreetly as possible, she pressed her hand against Hamilton's side and slipped her hand under his nightshirt. Eliza felt smooth, soft skin that felt like a pillow under her fingertips. She rubbed the area with her thumb, fascinated by this new discovery. She placed her palm flat on his stomach, which was not so flat in comparison. Eliza could feel her face heat up as her hand gently cupped his stomach. 

A new feeling washed over her. A strange sort of excitement she hadn't felt often. 

Before she could think more about it, her Hamilton spoke. "Goodnight, Betsy," he said softly and lovingly. 

Snapped out of her thoughts, Eliza replied, "Goodnight, my dear."

-----

By the time she woke up and got ready for the morning, Eliza had already forgotten about her experience the night before.

That was not to last.

The whole family had just finished eating breakfast. Hamilton was frantically preparing for work. She had only been half-listening, but he seemed to have misplaced a stack of papers. She was cleaning up when she suddenly heard, "Oh, Betsy! I found them!"

This was followed up with a loud crash and an undignified wail from her husband. 

"Are you alright?" Eliza asked, rushing over to the room her Hamilton was in. By the time she got there, he was already standing up and bent over, desperately attempting to pick up his papers. The papers had been strewn all over the floor. 

Eliza stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes instantly fell onto her husband's butt. It was bigger.

Right?

She blushed madly but couldn't stop staring. Her Hamilton's breeches were filled out nicely, leaving little to the imagination. Eliza suddenly felt the warmth on her face traveling down to a different part of her body. 

She was shocked and turned on at the same time. 

Her Hamilton had managed to gather all his papers and was standing upright again. He turned around and noticed her staring. "My, my, I think someone's distracted. How inappropriate!" he teased. 

Eliza laughed awkwardly and looked away. Time seemed to pass by quickly because before she knew it, Hamilton kissed her on the cheek and walked out the door to go to work. 

The whole day she questioned herself and was thoroughly distracted thinking about her husband's butt.

How improper!

-----

As the months passed, Eliza quietly watched as her Hamilton got bigger. Due to him being incredibly busy, he was always at his desk, barely having time for walks (or any other physical activity). This was accompanied by no change in eating habits. He used to get away with the fattening consequences of having a sweet tooth but, writing and debating don't burn off calories. 

Eliza stayed quiet as all this happened, opting to be a silent observer instead. And an observer she was. Of course, she'd always admired her Hamilton's looks, but she'd been caught staring a lot more often now. 

Fantasizing about different things.

It was stressful for Eliza to keep this all to herself. She knew that if she brought it up, she'd hurt Hamilton's feelings. He was sensitive, and she didn't want him to feel bad about himself. 

She knew she'd have to say something eventually. 

Her Hamilton had not noticed her increased interest in his body, nor the changes that were happening to it. Eliza didn't understand how he wasn't aware of the changes to his own body. He'd gotten undeniably plump.

-----

Hamilton did not expect a lot from his mornings. He did, however, expect his clothes to fit the way they were supposed to. 

So why were they not doing that?

It first occurred to him that something might be wrong when he struggled to put his breeches on. First, they did not seem like they wanted to slide over his hips. Hamilton struggled and huffed as he tried to pull them up. In the end, he had to jump up and down to get them on.

The next challenge was getting them buttoned. Out of breath, and face now red from having jumped, Hamilton's mind burned with shame. He realized that the soft, fleshy mass keeping him from buttoning his breeches was his stomach. He stared at it in embarrassment for what felt like forever before he found the courage to grab it. Distress and shock washed over Hamilton when he realized he could grasp a handful of his stomach with ease.

Throwing his dignity and pride out the window, he squeezed his eyes shut and sucked in his stomach. This time it buttoned with no issue; he did not want to see it happen. When Hamilton relaxed and opened his eyes, he was dismayed to find his stomach poking out over the sides of his breeches. He felt a tiny bit better knowing that his shirt concealed his skin, but the breeches obviously did not fit anymore.

He numbly reached over for his waistcoat and braced himself for the struggle that was bound to ensue. Surprisingly, there was no hassle. Hamilton's waistcoat stretched so it would button around his widened form. It was much easier than putting his breeches on. He did not even need to suck in his stomach this time! Putting the waistcoat on was not the issue, but how it looked on him certainly was. The buttons were straining to keep the front of the waistcoat closed, and there were gaps between each button where Hamilton’s undershirt could be seen. 

His coat and cravat went on with no trouble as they were not particularly fitted. He looked in the mirror and was less than pleased with the reflection he saw. The coat hid Hamilton’s widened and juicy bottom but did little to conceal the rest of his gains. The fabric on his breeches clung to his doughy thighs and hips, doing no favors as they made him look chubbier than he really was. His waistcoat could not conceal the fact that his stomach was round and trying to escape by pooling out over the sides of his breeches. Even Hamilton’s face was noticeably rounder, his cheeks much chubbier. 

He looked like an overfed hamster.

He quickly turned around, away from the mirror, and rushed out the bedroom door. Hamilton’s face was red with embarrassment and shame. He felt a wave of awfulness and self-loathing he had not felt in a long time, and it almost knocked him off his feet. He felt like he had failed himself.

-----

Eliza was frozen in place in a hidden corner of the room the entire time her Hamilton was dressing. She didn’t mean to watch him, and she would’ve left the room, but if she tried to leave, he’d know that she saw him struggle and would feel bad about himself. Worse than he probably already felt.

Eliza did not want to risk that, so she stayed in place the entire time. She watched Hamilton’s struggle and guiltily enjoyed it as he tried to shove his tubby frame into too small clothes. She found it adorable and sexy all at the same time. 

However, Eliza’s heart ached as she noticed the judgmental looks he was giving himself. She could only imagine how terrible he was being to himself; it made her want to cry. 

This made her feel even more guilty for the wetness that had developed between her legs.

That was when Eliza decided being quiet was not going to cut it anymore. She’d have to intervene and tell her husband the truth about her feelings.

Tell him how much she loved his new softness.

Eliza mischievously grinned as she crept into Alexander's office. She held a big mug in her hand that was cold to the touch. Alexander had been overworking again, but she knew what to distract him with.

Alexander didn't notice Eliza enter the room. She walked up behind him and put her free hand on his shoulder. Startled, he flinched and looked up at her. Eliza smiled down at him and handed him the mug. Alexander looked into it and furrowed his brow in confusion.

"...icecream...?"

"It's your favorite! You've been working so much, you deserve a treat."

Before Alexander could interject, his stomach cut him off with a loud grumble. Eliza smirked and patted his soft middle. He had a shirt on that had recently grown too small. It exposed the underside of his chubby tummy.

"Come on, even your stomach agrees."

Alexander sighed and turned around to face her. "Fine, fine. I'll take a break for ice cream."

She smiled widely and cheered. "Yes! Good boy," she purred.

His cheeks burned lightly with a soft pink color. He picked up the spoon that was in the mug and took a bite. Eliza took the opportunity to sit on Alex's lap, his thick, cushy thighs the perfect seat.

He smiled and took another bite of the ice cream.

"I can't finish it all. You filled the entire mug."

"I don't expect you to finish it. It is a lot," Eliza replied gently. She smiled to herself and expectantly watched Alexander. She did, in fact, expect him to finish the whole thing. His appetite had grown recently.

It was no doubt partly her fault, she had to admit. She's been taking advantage of the fact that she could bribe Alex with sweets. It was a recent discovery of hers, and she was proud of it. There were undoubtedly consequences to her exploits. Alex's waistline suffered because of it, but Eliza didn't mind. He'd never been thin, always a little soft, just the way she liked. This was definitely due to his insatiable sweet tooth. She couldn't believe she hadn't been using it sooner.

Eliza was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the mug be set down on his desk. It was completely empty. She smiled gleefully to herself.

"You always do this," Alexander complained.

"Only because it works," she patted his cheek. "And you finished it. I didn't make you do that," she teased.

Alex's face burned a darker color. He put a hand on his stomach and tried to pull his shirt down, but it sprung back up seconds later. His belly had stopped complaining, to his relief. Alex squeezed the bottom part that was peeking out; it was warm and squishy.

"I'm getting fat."

"Just a little. But I like it. I think it suits you."

Alex chuckled and shook his head, "If you say so, Betsy."

"I do, and I'm right!" Eliza got out of his lap and crouched down on the floor in front of him. He gave her a strange look. She smiled and lifted his shirt, exposing his overfed stomach. Before Alexander could respond, she leaned in and blew raspberries into his belly.

He burst out laughing and leaned back in the chair. "B-Betsy!"

After a few moments, Eliza stopped and instead kissed his plump tummy.

"You're so weird," Alex laughed.

"Oh hush, you like it," she murmured against his skin. She grinned and grabbed his side, squeezing the roll that formed in her hand. Eliza let go and let her eyes wander around Alex's newfound softness. She spotted that the button on his pants obviously struggled to stay closed.

"We really need to get you some new clothes," she hummed.

"Y-yeah...nothing really fits anymore."

"Well! Let's go then!"

"N-now!?"

**This is historical, in case you were wondering. Takes place during 1791**

                                                        ------

The house was quiet and dark as everyone lied in their beds, resting, everyone besides Alexander. He was doing his best pretending to be asleep, as not to wake Elizabeth up, but he found it was becoming increasingly difficult. Alexander felt ashamed of himself for being kept up due to cake, which he knew he could have the next morning, though the thought of it still kept him up. 

Unfortunately, his stomach tricked his mind, and before he knew it Alexander was carefully leaving the bedroom. He looked back into the darkened room, contemplating if he was really going to do this all for cake, before turning back ahead and beginning to embark into the kitchen. 

Alexander managed to creep into the kitchen without waking any of the children, but as he opened the cabinet door he realized that his memory had betrayed him and that he’d opened the wrong cabinet. Alexander nervously closed it, worried that the sound would wake someone up, before quietly strolling to the next cabinet over. 

Like a tiger eyeing its prey, he intensely stared at the cake, an aggressive want for the pastry washing over him. He sighed, and for a brief moment was hesitant on indulging, as the consequences of such behavior were already starting to show. That hesitance was soon chucked out the window as Alexander grabbed the cake, every part of him aboard on the indulgence. He placed the cake on the counter and searched for a fork with reckless abandon, quietness no longer being on his mind. When Alexander found a fork he began to munch on the cake as a bunny would a carrot, the soft delicious crumbs spreading all over his softening face. 

Sadly, this bliss soon came to an abrupt end when he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. He quickly turned around, his face burning when he spotted a tired Elizabeth. She walked over to Alexander and said, relieved, “There you are. I was worried when you weren’t in bed.” 

Noticing his embarrassment Elizabeth, smiling, gently stroked his stomach. “I’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

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