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John Doe Smut Collection

Summary:

…It’s a collection of smut from a person who mainly writes NON-vanilla stuff.
(Aka I like monster dick)
…Enjoy I guess? You weird kinky freaks you?

Notes:

This is the one and only time I’ll tell you on this group of Fics.
The Tag List is your Warning List
Don’t like something?
…Don’t read it, simple as that.
You continued reading?
YOU consent to seeing content about a mentally unwell not all there, not so ‘mortal’ man get his freak on. The back button exists for a reason~

I just write to scratch my own itches plus a little bit more that isn’t always my cuppa. Because I write for the target audience of mainly me, plus a little more.
I am one of the types of people who use horror to cope with my own trauma, I do not condone these actions IRL. Fantasy =/= Reality. Actions have consequences.

But having said that, I will restate the tags that apply to each individual one-shot in the notes. Like this:

This Chapter Contains: Masturbation, Non-human Genitals, Trans Doe, Injury, Self Harm, Blood, Knife Fucking, Hair Fucking, Self Cannibalism, Doe likes the feeling of his teeth in his mouth sexually, Sounding with Hair, Sounding with Tongue, Hair kink, Implied Non-con/dub con on ‘You’, Implied Wound Fucking, and generally hundreds of ‘Don’t Do This at Home You Will Get an Infection’ sex practices, Implied Gender Dysphoria (Doe is coded AFAB [Assigned Female at Birth], which does mean if you’re FTM or NB and having a bad dysphoria day, this might make it worse, be advised), Hypersexual Doe, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, Intrusive Thoughts, Ambiguous Gendered ‘You’, Doe uses his own hair to masturbate.

Viewer Discretion is Advised
Really, reaaaally advised~

Work Text:

Doe

They weren't available. They were busy.

But the room smelt of them.

It had only been a day, maybe two since they went home but everything smelt of them.

His bed. His pillows. His chair. Even himself

He just couldn’t help himself, his hand moving to shove itself down the front of his pants as he grabbed a pillow off his bed, smashed it against his face and breathed deeply, his fingers finding their way down to his abnormally large and overextended clit, stroking it between his index and forefinger like the pseudo dick it stood for. …Doe couldn’t help it if he tended to lead more male leaning, there was just more appeal to sticking something in someone. 

But sometimes…

Just sometimes.

He really, really liked sticking things inside himself~

His unfocused eyes took in the room, pupils blown wide, making everything harder to see, but there it was, just fallen down next to the night stand. …The knife from the last time they were over. A shudder rolled along Doe’s back at the thought, drool collecting at the corner of his mouth, swallowing audibly. He quickly undid his button and zipper, pushing his pants down, leaving the sticky stiff piece of clothing on the ground behind him, pulling off his sweater and laying down on the bed, grabbing the knife and admiring it in the dim and flickering lighting as he kept stroking himself. That was their blood. Theirs. He nearly came at the thought alone, bringing the blade up to his face and breathing deeply. His hand trailed lower, sticking a couple of fingers into his moist, warm heat, his thumb starting a crazed stroking of his clit back and forth as he dragged his tongue along the edge of the blade, saliva and a mix of their old blood and his new dripping down onto his shirt, which just seemed to be covered in heart shaped droplets blood spatter pattern. 

It was like they were still here. He still had a piece of them.

He needed it inside of him

He removed his hand with a wet squelch, spreading his legs, and lifting his hips up, almost like he was displaying himself for a person that wasn’t actually there.

…He wondered very briefly to himself, if they knew he sometimes pictured them fucking him with a knife strap on when he jerked off.

They probably would find that disturbing, he was creepy enough

Whatever negative thoughts bringing him back down were chased away as he plunged the knife into himself, back arching, toes curling, gasping and crying out their name, nearly squirting around the chef knife as he climaxed from that action alone, a torn and guttural sound of need and desperation left him as he rocked his hips, his clit bumping and pinching against the base of the handle as he fucked himself on the knife coated in his love’s blood. As he put their fluids deep inside him where they belonged. 

The bed was coated with more and more of his own sexual fluids and blood as he kept keening and humping against the blade, writhing and squirming on the bed, enjoying the wet and violent ripping and squelching sounds it was causing. But… the stimulation wasn’t enough. And some left over part of his brain from a time long ago was reminded of something else with the how much blood had been spread out on the bed, some of the hearts on his shirt turning to little spirals as his arousal flagged when he was so close to releasing the way he wanted. So close!

A lust tinged growl of frustration left him, his clit growing and changing in size with each throb, until it resembled a more standard, if admittedly on the comically large end of the spectrum, dick. He only wished he could use this size on them without it actually hurting them.

Although a small sick part of him did delight on the fact they couldn’t always remember everything they did together~ And some passage ways didn’t end like that one~

The new appendage throbbed in time with the thrusts of the knife, a trail of precum leaking down the side of his length, Doe panting harshly, moving so he was half sitting up, still driving the knife in at a good and hard angle, but he bent forward, his wild and untamed mess of hair moving forward with him as he did so. One of his hands slid under his shirt, massaging at the lump on his chest there as his tongue flicked at the precum on his own head, shuddering lightly, before teasing the tip with the end of it, causing him to gasp and groan, bucking up against it as it began to slide inside his length, sliding in and out in time with the knife, his hair wrapping around his length, like razor wire in places where there were next to no strands, and like fine (if admittedly dirty) silk rope where there were enough, and the mix of the two feelings was quickly driving Doe to the end of his next orgasm, chanting out their name, the sound muffled by his own extended tongue. 

He bent forward to catch his own fluids, wrapping his lips around the head of his dick as he let his tongue uncork himself, picturing it was someone else climaxing down his throat before he flumped backwards, holding the semen in his mouth for a long moment, running his tongue through it before swallowing it, letting the knife fall from his grasp and rest on the bed, and just remain half in, half out of him as he admired the picture before him, of the blood and other fluids, half soaked into the bed like a vibrant Rorschach test. 

It didn’t matter what the shapes actually formed, all he saw was his love’s image in it. 

But it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

A soft growl left him, pressing his arm against his face, smelling the areas just higher than his wrist that daily use of his hand hadn’t tainted their smell on him.

It was like they were still there

A soft pleased sound left Doe as he nosed and nuzzled at his own wrist, smelling the traces of them on him, slowly removing the knife with a shudder and a soft warm pant against his arm, taking a moment to just bask in their smell over his, before shoving the knife back in hard and running his tongue along the edge of his teeth, shivering, his length springing back to life as he felt the smooth hard enamel bits that made up his dental structure before biting down hard on his own arm and ripping. …He loved that sound, the moment right before flesh gave way and detached from something, that squelchy, teaaaaring sound. …It was almost as good as sex. Almost ~

And while his blood tasted off , like something stale and left in the fridge uncovered too long, and the texture was off, like half baked dough instead of bubblegum, it was as close as he was getting tonight to the act of eating them, chewing and savouring the flesh in his mouth, licking every trace of them off him, like seasoning off a corn chip before swallowing, stroking himself in a mad and needy frenzy. He tore another chunk off, higher up his arm, finding it underwhelming, like an under-seasoned chip, to continue the metaphor, but his dick seemed to have a mind of its own, threatening to spill over, a soft growl leaving him, bending forward again, his hair wrapping around the base of his own dick tight, hard enough to certainly cut off the circulation before a tendril of hair worked its way into his length, the sensation both painful and oh so pleasurable. He could feel the individual strands as they worked their way down, feeling them scratch and slide, past the inner opening, that had he bothered forming full organ structures, there may have been other fluids than just sexual ones threatening to come out of him. Eventually however, his hair found the target he was looking for, a guttural groan of their name leaving him, pressing against his prostate, the hair wrapped around him going back to being just normal levels of tight as he stroked himself off, while ensuring he was unable to actually cum. His heels and hands dug into the bare filthy mattress as he writhed and bucked against his own hair, closing his eyes, picturing it was someone other than just himself touching him, pressing his face against the pillow that still smelt like their fluids from the last time they were here, having stuck it under them to take weight off their hips… and well… to collect other things, but he had only mentioned the first part when he suggested it.

They knew he was a freak, but he tried his best to not draw attention to it if he could help it. 

A deep growl left him, his eyes wide as he tugged at the hair near the front of his face, wishing the damn intrusive thoughts that kept popping up uninvited every time he got close would shut the fuck up already. His own hair wrapped around his throat, caressing it for a moment before tightening with a firm snap sound like a leather belt being pulled quickly and suddenly against itself, dry orgasming in the front with a cut off whine, his hips bucking up hard, fluid absolutely gushing out of the gaping wound and what was left of his internal structure left between his legs, the knife falling out fully, his hips bucking up against his hair with a stuttery motion before collapsing back down against the mattress, his thoughts finally silenced, able to just focus on the feeling of his hair stroking up and down his length in a frenzy, the back satisfied, but the front still on the edge of true release, the two systems working in tandem but still separate. 

He wasn’t sure how many hours he lay on the bed writhing, his own hair cutting off any thought but the thought of them, and the feeling of pleasure. Sweat, other body fluids, and maybe parts of his own flesh lay pooled on the bed beneath him when he finally took the hair out, and loosened his own grip on his throat, his back arching forward with a hard snap that had he bothered making himself a spine this morning, it would have well and truly snapped it, his throat hoarse from not only choking himself but also due to the singular loud guttural scream of their name that left him as he finally let himself cum, the fluid splattering on the ceiling, some of it dripping back down… some of it having not even reached the rest,  gravity returning it to sender before it even reached its destination. 

But he didn’t care, his chest heaving, a wide grin plastered on his face, eyes half lidded. …He finally felt satisfied enough to sleep… for at least a little while. After all… They woke up for work soon, and he had to be up to greet them on the off chance they wanted to start their day with him after all~