donkeykong
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Summary
They’re weightless. Sam wraps his arms around Dean’s shoulders, dotted with sunny freckles, and pulls their buoyant bodies together.
Series
- Part 14 of a very unfinished kinktober, 2025
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They’re everywhere, his thighs and ankles and knees, wrapped from his wrist to his shoulder, slinking up his bare chest and down his exposed behind, rubbing and stroking his hips in an imitation of a comforting, soothing gesture. Each lick of leathery flesh emanates otherworldly lechery that renders Sam absolutely helpless.
Series
- Part 13 of a very unfinished kinktober, 2025
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“Please don’t watch,” Sam whimpers. “Promise me you won’t watch.”
Series
- Part 12 of a very unfinished kinktober, 2025
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Dean: i miss u 2
Dean: want 2 come see u but he wont let me
Sammy: tell me what youll do when you comeSeries
- Part 11 of a very unfinished kinktober, 2025
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Summary
“Oh, Sammy,” Dean eventually drawls into the crook of his shoulder. “I can’t fuck you ‘cause you’re such a pretty virgin.”
Series
- Part 10 of a very unfinished kinktober, 2025
Recent series
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a very unfinished kinktober, 2025 by donkeykong, yulle (donkeykong)
Fandom Supernatural (TV 2005)
25 Oct 2025
Summary
completed days: 15
made with the FFWotSPNF prompt list
sam, dean, and john exclusive <3
please heed individual works' archive warnings- Words:
- 19,248
- Works:
- 14
- Bookmarks:
- 2
Recent bookmarks
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Summary
The guy who dropped Dean off in the morning was in his late fifties, a mop of curly black hair and a boxy canvas jacket. Sam followed Dean through the motel room as he kicked off his boots and shucked his jacket.
“Since… Dad. You’ve been—”
“What, Sam? Since when do you give a shit about this stuff? I don’t go around holding up scorecards for all the chicks you’re not banging, you fuckin’ monk, you’d think the least you could do is—”
“He looked like him, dude.”
Bookmarked by donkeykong
22 Feb 2025
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Summary
There are a few shadowy figures on the sidewalk, the night’s offerings left on the shelf. They're all boys, their frames slight and their legality dubious. They look up at the sight of John’s headlights, but he keeps his head forward and carries on driving. He’s seen exactly what he’s looking for just up the street.
The boy is alone. He's a cookie cutter street whore, all mesh and tight pants. John can see the ghostly entrails of his breath, the skinny arms wrapped around his chest like chains. When John winds down his window, the kid steps forward in a tired, non-urgent sort of way. His lack of pretence is appealing.
John checks him over to make doubly sure that he's the right choice. He’s tall. His hipbones jut a little, distorting his tight pants, the waistband flapping over his barely there stomach. His hair is a few shades light of brown; it's short, but chunky and uneven, like he's cut it himself without a mirror. When John peers closer, he can see that the kid's lips are full and pink. That definitely helps. He's not to John's exact specifications, especially with his completely absent bulk, but he'll do. Beggars, choosers, all that noise.
Bookmarked by donkeykong
30 Apr 2025
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Sam’s tone is casual, like he’s asking if you’re getting another beer. If you’re going for that girl who smiled at you at the bar. If you’re gonna replace that one broken tape from the box in the car with something else. Like he’s not asking if you’re going to put a gun to his temple or not.
Series
- Part 1 of High Voltage
Bookmarked by yulle (donkeykong)
10 Oct 2025
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Summary
Sam squinted at him. “Do you think about Dad while I’m giving you head?”
“What? No!”
“Do you think about Dad while you’re giving me head?”
“Sam, stop it,” Dean warned.
“Woah.” Sam’s eyes widened. “You do. That’s kinda weird, Dean.”
Bookmarked by yulle (donkeykong)
24 Jul 2026
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Summary
This is a story about family. It is about the worst of betrayals and the best of intentions, the comfort of lies and the ruthlessness of truths; it is about fathers and cults, gods and monsters, love and violence, the ordinary and the horrifying, the unspeakable things that happen in the synapses where they meet. It's about what should never be, but is anyway; what could have been, but never will; and what happens when the blood you share, and choose, defines you entirely.
Bookmarked by yulle (donkeykong)
15 Jul 2026