Chubby Dean, Outgrowing His Bed. Like, Really Chubby. Chubby. Who Needs A Body Pillow When You ARE One?

Chubby Dean, outgrowing his bed. Like, really chubby. Chubby². Who needs a body pillow when you ARE one?

How to care for your fat boy:

- leave plenty of his favorite snacks and treats just lying around - also leave his favorite fruits and veg, a well nourished fat boy is a happy one - encourage seconds, thirds and more - if he says he is really actually full don’t force him, an ill fat boy is hard to look after - go to buffets, let him go free range and graze - go out to nice places to eat that you both like, your world isn’t all stuffing - conveniently buy him clothes, make sure your fat boy looks his best with room to grow - give him head while he’s eating, positive reinforcement is never a bad thing - let him use his new found girth to dominate you, pin you down and envelope you in flab - make him feel like the king of your world, he is a beautiful handsome man that’s all yours to love - respect your fat boy, a kink is only sexy if it’s enjoyed by both of you

Hey, vessels are really stretchy

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Cabin Feeder

(Ha ha, see what I did there? So, I’m going to try to do a couple fills for @get-beached! this year. Already missed the first one, but snuck in, just in time, for an Original S’more. ~600 words, setting up the scenario. Sam, Dean, and an occasional cameo from Cas, so far, but we’ll see how it goes. Dean will be the one getting his chunk on. Prompt: too much of a good thing)

Also on AO3

PART ONE...

They'd been at the cabin all of a week, and Dean was already getting antsy.

“It's too quiet.”

“There are bugs, Sam. BUGS.”

“All this fresh air. It can't be good for a man. Please.”

“Does this look like poison ivy? I swear it's poison ivy ...”

Sam savored the quiet and the bugs and the relaxation, seeing deer when he went for his morning runs and watching the hawks drift on lazy currents overhead, but Dean seemed to need to be actively entertained. The only thing that shut him up was food, which, fortunately, was at least marginally rewarding to round up.  They could be actual, boring, civilian hunters for five hot minutes. And Dean, to Sam's surprise, was a damned good fisherman. Especially with a cooler full of beer.

So tonight, they were feasting on bass. And a batch of southern biscuits, and green beans Sam picked up from a roadside stand. Throw in more beer, as a food group? Dean was happy as a pig in mud.

Cas dropped by—like, literally, dropped in out of thin air—for a casual visit, and they were all gathered around the old table, sharing dinner. Even though Cas didn't have to eat, he said he enjoyed the green beans, however Sam noted Cas was oddly mindful of the fish, almost moony-eyed looking at the creatures in the frying pan. But Dean was chowing down like it was his new-found career.

The dinner was good, no question. And before long, Dean had dropped his fork to recline back in the chair, rubbing his over-full belly. It didn't bother him one bit to unfasten his belt and top button, much to Sam's amusement.

“Man, Sam. That was ...” Dean stifled a burp, “… I didn't know you could cook. Like, I know you do salads and, I dunno, granola and soy garden quinoa pucks or whatever, but man. Those biscuits? I swear, if I had room I'd eat ten more.”

“As you wish,” Cas said casually, and reached over to touch a single finger to Dean's midsection, right were his stomach was starting to press against his t-shirt in a noticeable bump. At first, Dean looked distinctly baffled, and Sam arched a brow himself, but then Dean grinned almost lecherously. At the biscuits. He chuckled and sat up and plopped another three on his plate, and began smothering them in butter and honey.

Sam gawked. “I thought—”

Dean rubbed his hands together and picked up his fork again, with a twirl. “Hey, I just had to let things settle a minute. Move down the ol' chute.”

“TMI, dude.”

“Actually,” Castiel butted in, “I relaxed your stomach and allowed for more … expansion and digestion. Eased the discomfort. You're welcome.”

“No shit? Well that's awesome!” Dean dug in merrily, and Sam had a thought.

If he kept Dean busy, with cooking and eating and napping and all the excellent things they well and truly deserved, maybe, just maybe, they could stay here for more than the summer. They weren't all that far from a decent sized town (it had a small college in it too), they had surprisingly good wifi, and the view of the lake from the back porch was amazing. There was even an unattached garage where they could stash the Impala, between the kayaks and fishing rods.

Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of their retirement. Sam let himself indulge in the idea, and figured he'd have to see how the summer shaped up. Dean might learn to love it here.

...to be continued...