
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11462406.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester, Henry_Winchester,
      Castiel_(Supernatural), Original_Female_Character(s), Original_Male
      Character(s), Meg_Masters, Benny_Lafitte
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Serial_Killers, Twink_Sam, Top_Dean_Winchester,
      Bottom_Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester's_A+_Parenting, Character_Death,
      Serial_Killer_Sam_Winchester, Serial_Killer_Dean_Winchester, Serial
      Killer_John_Winchester, Incest, Sibling_Incest, Brother/Brother_Incest,
      Dean_Winchester_and_Sam_Winchester_in_Love, Murder_Family
  Series:
      Part 1 of Wincest_Poems
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-10 Completed: 2017-07-16 Chapters: 7/7 Words: 3740
****** Kill Every Motherfucker (Get Fucked Up) ******
by thorkiship18
Summary
     Enter the madness of the Winchester Family. Those who enter their
     house, never come out alive...
Notes
     Based on a shit ton of Rob Zombie songs and movies! ❤ (Updates Bi-
     Daily!)
***** Pussy Liquor *****
Henry had a baby, John was his name. Wild as a dog, totally insane. John loves
the girls, young and clean, down 'am in a bucket of gasoline.
John had a baby, Sammy was his name. He knew he was crazy, Dean was the same.
Down behind the shed, slaughtering the hog, slice along the belly, feed it to
the dog.
Sammy loved to play, sweet little thing. Pour salt along the wounds, he knew it
would sting. Dean would play along, laughing at the pain, all while avoiding
Grandpa's glare and cane.
John was aware something wasn't right, when he heard strange noises all
throughout the night. When Sammy turned sixteen, he caught him with Dean, on
his knees, looking so serene.
Dean smiled at John while giving Sammy's mouth a plow, "Baby Boy's doin' great,
he's a man now."
Sammy gazed at John the entire time, eyes set in a firm line. He wanted him to
see how much he enjoyed it, how much he enjoyed Big Brother's dick.
***** Teenage Nosferatu Pussy *****
Cass was a good man, young and smart. He loved his girlfriend, Meg, full of
heart. They came across a shop along the road in the middle of the night, it
was nothing special, not even the best sight.
The man at the counter looked dazed, wizened and old. The stare he gave Cass
was quite cold. His name tag said Henry, that much was seen. Next to him was an
old photograph with the name "Dean".
Relative, perhaps? Likely. Cass is thrown from his trance at the man's light
taps.
"Buy or get out." The old man said, angry for some reason. "You've had me
waiting for a whole season! Kids today should be beat" He just yells from his
seat.
The couple bought their good, leaving in a huff. Cass wasn't about to call the
man on his bluff. They drove down the empty road smiling at old tales in kind,
unaware of the two brothers trailing behind.
****
"Wakey, wakey." Sammy grins, running the knife down Cass's face. "I'm gonna
carve you up, and never leave a trace!"
Cass screamed, recalling the events of last night. A boy and his brother in a
bind, in a plight. He graciously offered his help, smiling wide. When he least
expected it, they seized him and all hope died.
Now, he sits bound in a chair, staring at a sweet boy. The kid from last night
who has a mighty sharp toy. Cass screams, looking to his right. There she is,
Meg's mutilated body in the sunlight.
"Hush hush, my sweet." Sammy coos, kissing his tears. "I will alleviate all of
your fears."
Cass shook wildly, scared breathless. "Let me go, please! I won't tell anyone
of this mess!"
Sammy stopped, face fully of pity. He put his hands on his hips. "Do you think
I'm pretty?"
Unable to answer quickly, Sammy slashed at his flesh, giggling deeply at the
blood pouring from his chest. Cass screamed and yelled, begging for release.
None of it mattered to Sammy, who never, ever ceased.
Finally, he was dead, drenched in crimson. Sammy licked the blade clean,
smirking like a real life villain. Dean walks in, bloody as well. He grabs
Sammy for a kiss; he's ready to fuck, he can tell.
"One, two, three, who should I kill?"
Sammy responds. "Every motherfucker runnin' up the hill."
"One, two, three, what should I do?"
"Get fucked up, and fuck up you."
***** Dragula *****
Dead, I am the one, exterminating son.
Dean carves his initials into the young woman's chest, cackling and grinning.
Slipping through the trees, strangling the breeze.
Sam stalks his prey through the woods, taunting them in a sing-song voice. The
voice of a wolf in sheep's clothing.
Dead, I am the sky, watching Angels cry.
Dean shouts, tussling with John for the umpteenth time for fondling Sammy, his
property.
While they slowly turn, conquering the worm.
Henry walks up to the chair in which the man is bound, aided by his youngest
grandson, knife in hand.
Dig through the ditches, and burn through the witches.
Sammy grabs a hold of the sheets, moaning like a whore for his big brother.
Dean pounds into him furiously, bruising his hips.
I slam in the back of my Dragula.
Dead, I am the pool, spreading from the fool.
The woman fights back, striking Sammy in the face. Enraged, Dean beats her to
death. No one hits his Baby Boy.
Weak and what you need, nowhere as you bleed.
John takes a look at his selection. A woman with a mutilated face, and another
with a broken leg. He unbuckles his pants, making a choice on who he screws,
and who dies.
Dead, I am the rat, feast upon the cat.
Sammy enters a bar, dressed in the shortest of shorts and shirts. He eyes his
prey; cherry red lips pouting. The man's a big one, but the bigger they are,
the harder they fall.
Tender is the fur, dying as you purr.
Henry sits, patting Sammy on the head. He brought home a good kill. His
favorite grandkid, unlike that degenerate, Dean. Fucking bastard.
Dig through the ditches, and burn through the witches. I slam in the back of my
Dragula.
Dead, I am the life, dig into the skin.
Dean resumes his pushups, taking note of the woman watching him at the gym. He
smirks at her. How would it feel to run his knife along her beautiful face?
Knuckle crack the bone, twenty-one to win.
She almost got away, but Sammy got her. He threw that knife right in her back
with expert precision. Dean fucked him good after that.
Dead, I am the dog, hound of Hell you cry.
John licks his lips hungrily at Sammy. The boy only smirks. Tease. Dean is
always close by, just waiting to pounce. That's Daddy's Boy.
Devil on your back, I can never die...
***** Sick Bubblegum *****
Chapter Notes
     Some of my poems rhyme, some of them don't. This is one of those that
     don't.
We all know how we're gonna die, Baby. We're gonna crash and burn.
Saturday night.
He's got no plans. The glass sits in his hand. He takes another shot, drowning
away the sorrows of yesterday's past.
Rick signals for the bartender to keep going, to keep serving him drink after
drink, shot after shot.
It's pitiful, this place. Nearly empty save for a few other dickhead losers who
would rather drink their problems away. They've most likely been frequenting
this place for long years.
He spends an hour in there, pleasantly buzzed. All of a sudden, someone sits
next him. Rick side-eyes the patron, features coming into brief view.
This here ain't no man, but a boy. A slender, long legged, skimpy dressed
whore. Rick turns to him fully, feeling the attraction grow. The way this boy
is dressed means he's here to party. He's chewing gum; he blows a bubble, then
pops it.
"Hey, Baby." Rick grins. The alcohol is taking effect. "What's a little thing
like you doin' in a grown up place like this?"
The boy turns to him, giggling with huge dimples. He nods to the bartender who
chuckles in response. He must frequent this bar. "No boy here, sir, not with
the way I do business."
The looks he's giving, the shape of him, the length of his limbs. Beautiful,
like a soft, white rose among red ones. His lips are glossy, and he looks to be
wearing eyeliner. Prissy little bitch, huh?
"Little young to be drinking, ain't ya?"
"You know, I like to get fucked up."
"Yeah, I like to get fucked up too."
"Yeah, I bet you do. I'm Sammy. Wanna get outta here soon?"
Rick gazes at the kid strangely. He's not particularly into guys, let alone
teen boys...but Sammy is something else; there's something hypnotic about him.
"How much?" Rick asks.
Sammy downs his drink in one gulp. Damn. "Free of charge, Stud."
****
They walk.
Walking among the path to nowhere in the darkened forest.
The liquor hits Rick hard; his head is swimming, yet he's still in charge of
his basic motor functions. Sammy is beside him, holding onto his arms as he
wobble on both legs.
He doesn't know where they are, nor does he actually care. All Rick knows is
that he's getting some ass tonight. Some young, tight ass. Just then, Sammy
stops them, snatching Rick's keys from him, a playful and mischievous smile
touches his soft features.
The boy takes off into the dark, prompting Rick to chase after him. That's
okay. He loves it when people play hard to get. He's been on this earth for 45
years, and he's never had to fight this hard to fuck anyone.
Rick wills himself to run, to sober up more so he can catch the little fucker.
He finally does, and wrestles the boy down onto the forest floor. Sammy only
struggles mildly under Rick, who pins his hands above his head.
"I hope you like it rough, Baby. I'm not going easy on you."
Sammy giggles once more. "He's not gonna like that."
"Who?"
Dead.
It's all over so quickly.
Dean grabs the man by his hair, exposing his neck, then slices open his
jugular. The blood streams from the wound, and all over Sammy's clothes. Dean
allows Rick's body to fall, and helps Sammy to his feet, caressing his cheeks.
"My Sammy," Dean growls. "Mine."
Sammy grabs him for a hard kiss, smearing the blood on his big brother's
clothes. "Yours. Only yours."
Chew it up, spit it out, Sick Bubblegum...
***** American Witch *****
This is a journey back to fear, guilt, anxiety...
Henry wakes up in the morning, drunk as a skunk. He hears the sound of a child
laughing. His own kid. John. That little fucker.
He makes his way into the kitchen, seeing his whore of a wide cooking
breakfast. She sleeps around, he knows it. Where else is the extra money coming
from?
John stops giggling as Henry steps foot into the place. All life stops when
he's around. It's funny, except when it's not. No one likes Henry, and he
doesn't care. He has ways of getting rid of his aggression.
As he sits down, John gets up, exiting the kitchen. This attitude, this fucked
up little bastard is gonna be the death of him. Henry shouts, sweeping
everything onto the floor.
Black dog dying on the weather vain, The Devil's in a cat and the baby's brain.
Henry snaps one day, coming home from work. He finds John watching cartoons,
yet his wife nowhere to be found. He asks John, but the boy only says upstairs.
Alone on the hill, and ready to die.
He discovers his wife with another man in their marital bed.
Cancer of darkness - blacken eye.
Henry slaughters them both in a bloody rage. He considers killing John too, but
the boy looks up at him with hopeful eyes before snatching away the knife to
stab his still breathing mother in the heart.
"The End...of The American Witch." He laughs.
****
Henry looks back on that day as a fond memory as he strangles a young man to
death. That way the day he and John finally started to bond. It was also the
day he taught the boy everything he knew about killing.
Sammy skips up to his grandpa in those provocative clothes. Personally, Henry
finds it odd that his favorite grandson would occasionally wear women's
clothes, but it apparently helps lure in the big men.
"Do you wanna know where their dreams come from?" Sammy asks, kissing his
granddaddy on the cheek.
Henry shrugs. "Some showed their faith, and some showed none."
***** Living Dead Girl *****
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes
Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?
Sammy stalks the girl and her friends through the store, bored. That's when she
spots him, feet glued to the floor.
He's been following her for days, Becky is her name. She's kinda pretty, young
and tame.
He blushes from her gaze, unsure how to feel. He rushes out of the shop, making
a sort of girlish squeal.
Finally the days comes when he and Dean snatch them up, make them scream, make
them buck. All four girls shrieked in distress, except Becky, not even making a
mess.
Sammy separated her from her friends, slowing getting to know her. She was
anticipating the attack, not even a moment slower.
"Do you like me?" Sammy laughed, twirling his knife.
"I do!" Becky smiled. "More than I do my own life."
Sammy cut her loose, giving her his extra tee. "I'm gonna take you somewhere to
prove it to me."
He lead her by the hand to where her friends were kept. They all screamed, they
all wept. Sammy gave her the knife, grinning with glee. He was prepared for
what he was anout to see.
Sure enough, Becky proved him wrong. She killed her friends while even singing
a song. Dean came down, furious at her work. But Sammy stopped him with a small
smirk.
It was evident that Becky liked Sammy, as a girl would a boy. However, he liked
her as a friend, maybe even as a toy. A fool that is merely a tool.
They allowed her to leave, unharmed unlike most. Sammy was sure she'd never
tell, never boast. Dean hugged Sammy close, whispering in his ear, watching her
leave from afar.
"What are you thinking about?"
Sammy smiles, taking out his gun, and pointing it at Becky's back. "Same thing
you are."
Chapter End Notes
     Bye bye, Becky!
***** The Devil's Rejects *****
Chapter Summary
     Hell doesn't want them.
     Hell doesn't need them.
Chapter Notes
     This one isn't a poem, just a story!
     Thank you guys once again for reading. This was a fun little project
     to work on!
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Sammy sits on the front porch, picking at the loose strings on his cut up
shorts. He's bored. John and Dean are fighting over him again, and Henry is
over at the store, presumably luring in fresh meat. This is all he's ever
known: Kill, Fuck, and Kill again. It's not at all bad, but when there's
nothing to murder, it does get quite tiresome around here, especially out in
the middle of nowhere.
He takes out his cell phone, looking through the dating app he's downloaded
days back. It helps a lot more than trying to pic up a guy at a bar, though he
hasn't given that up yet. No, this app just makes it easier for his prey to
come to him. Sammy swipes left and right, depending on which guy catches his
eye.
"Hello there." He grins, finding the perfect specimen.
It's a man in his mid-twenties. Kyle. Well groomed, college graduate with a
love for action movies and twinks. Jackpot. Sammy favorites him before typing a
short message. He's gotta hook him in quickly before some other thirsty boy
comes sniffing around him. With a few more taps on the touchpad keyboard, the
message sends. Sammy waits patiently, going over the events of the past few
weeks.
He and Dean hunted down two girls who got the upper hand. It was stupid of
Sammy to allow them to eat like normal people for an evening. Never again will
he make that mistake. It wasn't as bad as John's mistake though. Oh no, John's
was worse. He knows how much Dean loves Sammy, and how he has a strict "No
Touch" policy for the boy.
Well, John didn't get the memo it seemed. He cornered Sammy in the bathroom,
placing hot, open mouthed kisses on his neck. Sammy didn't turn him away, oh
no. He encouraged John to kiss him deeply, knowing what his big brother would
do. Dean found them though, and began brawling with John. After that...well,
Dean took Sammy back to their room for a last minute fuck. Anything to reclaim
his boy. 
The phone chimes suddenly, making Sammy look down. It's a message from Kyle.
Hey. Wanna hang out?
Sammy smirks.
Pick the time and place, hon. I'm always eager to play.
Kyle soon sends his address over the phone. Sammy grins triumphantly, pushing
himself off the step.
"I'll be home late," He yells over his shoulder, still grinning. "I'm going
Huntin' tonight..."
****
This is awful.
A fucking bloodbath!
Detective Benny Lafitte kneels down next to the body of 26 year old Kyle
Johnson. Jesus! Well, what's left of him anyways. He's been butchered, but
perhaps brutalized before that. This isn't a coincidence. It has to do with all
those people going missing around these parts.
He takes a look around the man's apartment, trying to find anything peculiar.
Benny scoffs. This guy was a neat freak. Good luck trying to find a speck of
dust in this fucking place. And everything's so damned organized! However,
something catches Benny's eye. A cellphone. An obvious clue. He unlocks the
phone without any problems, and scrolls through until he sees texts from
another individual.
Sammy W. 16.
Hmm. Looks like if Kyle were alive, he'd have to take him directly to jail for
sexting a minor...but Benny needs to investigate this further. By himself. He
doesn't work well with others, and in order to regain is tarnished pride and
restore his reputation, he's gotta solve this case by himself. It's all
connected.
It's gotta be.
****
Sammy claws at Dean's back in ecstasy as his big brother fills him up with his
hot load. This is the 4th time in a row. God, every time he thinks the man is
done with him, he surprises him at the last second with another round. Dean
rolls off him, grabbing a discarded shirt from the floor to clean them off.
Sammy smiles at him, curling up into his arms. He loves Dean so much.
"Do you think we'll be together forever?" Sammy whispers, feeling slightly
melancholic.
Dean frowns down at him. "I swear on my life and lives of those bastards I've
killed that we'll always be together. If I get caught, I'll break out and come
back for you. We'll go on the run."
"Like Bonnie and Clyde?"
"Just like Bonnie and Clyde, Baby Boy. Gimme a kiss."
Sammy doesn't hesitate in the slightest. He lifts his head up until his and
Dean's lips are touching. They try to deepen the kiss, but loud knocking on the
front door interrupts them. They look at each other. Who the fuck is that?
Sammy hops out of the bed, quickly putting on clothes; doesn't matter whose.
Dean does the same, following him down the stairs. John stands by the door,
Grandpa Henry too.
John opens the door, and the family is greeted by a scruffy looking man on
their doorstep. He's fuckin' hot! Dean senses Sammy's attraction, and puts his
arm around his waist.
"Uh, Hello," says John. "May we help you?"
The man pulls out a badge. Shit, he's a goddamn cop! "Detective Lafitte. I'm
here to question a member of your household. Is there a 'Sammy' here?"
"That'd be me, Officer." Sammy smiles wide, pushing past Dean. He grabs the
man's hand, pulling him in. "Come in, don't be shy, Honey! I don't bite too
hard."
****
Benny excused everyone else from the living room so he could have a chat
with...Sammy. Wow. He's dressed...wow. Who allows their 16 year old to dress
like they're going to turn tricks on a street corner? It seems only John
Winchester. Hell, even the boy's grandfather could've said something, but I
guess not. Benny adjusts himself discreetly. Sammy's looking at him like a
meal, and truth be told, it's a little hot. It's completely wrong, but it's
still hot.
"I'm just gonna ask you some questions, okay?" Benny clears his throat.
Sammy smiles. "Fire away, Sugar."
"Okay. Uh, do you know a man named Kyle Johnson, by chance?"
"I do!" Sammy answers enthusiastically. "Oh, I remember Kyle! He was so sweet,
a real gentleman. I liked his apartment."
Benny grimaces. This changes everything. "Were you...with him recently?"
"Sure was. Two night ago."
That's precisely how long his body's been there.
"He's dead." Benny deadpans. "Kyle was found murdered in his apartment this
morning."
"Oh, I know that, Hon." Sammy says with a sweet smile. "I did it. All by
myself. Lemme tell you, it wasn't easy."
Holy Shit.
To speak so candidly about murdering another person...Benny doesn't know if
Sammy's telling the truth or just playing sick games. However, Sammy's
sickening grin tells him all he needs to know: This boy is far from innocent.
Benny stands, taking out his silver handcuffs.
"Sammy...I have to take you back with me to answer more questions. You just
admitted to killing a man."
But the boy laughs. He crosses his legs sensually where he's seated. "I'm not
goin' anywhere, and neither are you."
Without warning, Benny feels a blunt object strike the back of his head. He
goes down without a word.
****
When he next opens his eyes, he sees the Winchester Family cackling amongst
themselves over the dinner table. Sammy helps feed his grandpa while Dean and
John point their steak knives at each other. It seems like a typical, American
family dinner, yes? No. These people are sick. Benny tries to move, but he
finds that he's bound to a chair.
Sammy takes notice, picking up his own knife. He walks over to him, running the
blade down his neck. "Gosh, you're so handsome. What a waste."
"You'll be sorry." Benny tries getting through to him. "You will. Killing a
cop? That's serious jail time. You'll never get away with this."
"That's cute." Henry laughs. "You really think you're the first cop to sit
there, saying those same words?"
Benny's face turns pale.
"More like the 10th." John chimes in.
"12th." Dean corrects, eating his steak.
Seeing no way out, Benny starts to struggle in his bonds. "HELP! HELP ME!
SOMEBODY--AHH!"
Sammy slams the knife into the cop's leg, and twists the blade around harshly.
Benny screams in pain; there are tears that fall, but he is not concerned about
that. He just wants to live, but he knows that his clock is running out fast.
There's no hope of escape in this house. Who knows how many these people
killed. Tens? Hundreds? Sick fuckers!
Hell doesn't want them.
Sammy sits back down next to Dean, joining in on the family's conversation.
Hell doesn't need them.
Benny continues to scream until his voice is raw and hoarse.
Hell doesn't love them.
John laughs with his father, reminiscing on the old times.
This world rejects them.
Sammy and Dean share a kiss, holding each other's hands under the table. Always
together, never split apart.
The Devil's Rejects.
Chapter End Notes
     Stay tuned for more surprises in the future!
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
their work!
