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crimsonbodies · 2 months

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❝Now Kiss!❞ 18+ - MINORS DNI … Alan Wake x Joan Newbury | Original Female Character ] WARNINGS: non-con, infidelity, graphic violence. >a/n : heyo! crimson here. so i'm posting on ao3 but thought i'd start posting on tumblr too again! after having writers block for (checks notes) 6 years, i'm back and ready to write smut finally. hope this isn't too much for some people. i'm not into the infidelity trope at all but it would appear that alan wake belongs to me now :) i thought about this. i wrote this. i read this. the guilt is immense. but i'm still gonna touch myself to it at the end of the day because it's hot 😎👍 ENJOI ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

So Alan Wake had a ring on his finger. So what?

Jiwoon couldn’t wrap his head around why the two most gorgeous survivors (besides Yunjin) wouldn’t just confirm their feelings for each other already!!! It super obvious they were meant to be together, and it was driving him INSANE!

Wake had a wife in the real world or whatever but it had to be like a million bajillion years ago since he last saw her, so he didn't understand what the problem was, and he bet Joan was WAYYY better than Wake's wife anyways like C’MON. Plus what if she was dead??? He had half a mind to escape this realm and kill her himself. The mere memory of her was getting in the way of his power couple for god's sake, and Joan was NOT a second lead.

He paced around the stage, his home in between games being a massive auditorium. When he wasn’t practicing his performances, he was sitting in a meeting room at a long table with all the other killers. Well, most of them. Some didn’t want to participate in their little reality-tv ramblings, and others had been kicked out for being too rowdy. They had been non-stop teasing him about how Alan and Joan would never get together, and it was torturing him because he knew they were right. He had been around Wake long enough to know that the guilt of ‘cheating’ on his long lost wife was looming over his head every time he was with Joan; and yet his puppy-dog eyes couldn’t hide just how much affection he had for her. It was pathetic. It was dramatic. It had him on the edge of his seat, but the endless “will they, won’t they” had gone on for far too long. It wasn’t enough for him anymore, he needed a real display of affection.

Whenever he had them in a match, he would tunnel out the other two randos just so he could watch them interact alone, or ALOAN as he liked to call them (it was their ship name he made up and he was very proud of it)(he hoped it caught on in the meeting room soon). Even when tensions were high, and they constantly looked over their shoulders, Wake would still spare some time to make a bad joke, and Joan would call it awful but wouldn’t be able to stifle her laughter. Then they would gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes, or even worse, stare longingly when the other wasn’t looking. From the moments where Wake would drop whatever he was doing when he saw her being chased, to the fact that he would never even let her end up on hook in the first place, it was so obvious to every survivor and their mother how they felt, and if they were trying to hide it from people they sucked at doing so. They were even known to the younger survivors as 'mom and dad'. It was CRYSTAL LAKE CLEAR how well they fit together like two puzzle pieces, I mean, CLEARLY since even the killers who didn’t really care about them weren’t denying the chemistry they shared. Even Freddy, who rarely participated in the round table love island conspiracy, had a few choice words when Merchant said Joan could do way better than Wake. You could hear the sound of one of pinhead’s nails dropping the way the entire room froze in shock; it made Jiwoon proud to call them his OTP.

But Jiwoon wasn’t just another annoying fanfiction writer, he was the Trickster! A cold, confident, calculating, killer. He wanted an intimate performance, not 50 webtoon episodes where the couple barely so much as brushes up against each other. He had already read plenty of that slow-burn garbage back in the real world, the comments flooded with disappointment every time a kiss was teased and not given for the seventh time over. He would never do that if he was the author, he would simply give the people what they truly wanted immediately.

And then it hit him. He stopped pacing, bringing his hand up to his face that was curling into a devious smile, and started chuckling to himself. He knew exactly how to get them to admit their feelings. If the forced proximity trope wasn’t enough, he would have to take it a step further.

He needed to get them to fuck each other, even if he had to force them to do it.

/////

Sooner rather than later, the Trickster had made an appearance in one of their matches. Alan and Joan had long noticed how he liked to stalk them, catching on to his constant ploy of saving them for last, but he never really finished what he started. He often seem to give up in the end game, and they would always see him from afar as they ran through the exit gates. Still, they learned not to let their guard down, and were extra cautious around him since he was unpredictable, but he knew it was all a farce. Some would say he was underestimating what they were willing to do for the other, but Jiwoon was banking on it. In fact, they needed to stick to the script that he had been writing for them behind the scenes or all of this would be for nothing. He was risking them never being able to face each other again. The stakes were high, and he was all in.

As per usual, he made quick work of the unfortunate Dwight and David (sorry about your ship Trapper) and quickly made his rounds to the last gen. There were only three left for them to work on, and they almost always worked together on one of them. The map was Gas Heaven in Autohaven Wreckers. He knew exactly where they were headed: the gas station. The false pretence of a safe roof over their head. They would crouch walk over to the gen, unaware that the basement was directly next to them, patiently waiting for the next scene to unfold. And he was right; there they were. From a fair distance away, he could see Joan’s dark chocolate movie-star hairstyle peeking out from the cracked glass of the garage door. In his head, he fantasized about them exchanging meek smiles, their fingertips would brush as they reached for the toolbox at the same time, unable to hide their blushing.

‘Sorry Allie.’

‘You can use it June.’

He pictured them exchanging lovey-dovey nicknames, truly the pinnacle of a completely platonic friendship. Ignorant lovebirds.

‘Keep it together, Jiwoon. It’s… showtime’

He took a deep breath, brandishing his throwing knives before he took off. The only reason it wasn’t wise to form a relationship in the games was the fact that sometimes you were so focused on protecting the other person that you ended up making stupid mistakes, and Wake was due for his own to catch up with him. Joan was on the side of the gen perfectly in line with the doorway. Wake hadn’t even noticed, too busy scanning their surroundings for the both of them and getting his vision caught on the way Joan’s delicate hands made quick work of the wiring. But the hair on Joan’s neck raised as the killer approached, and just as she was about to get off the gen and tell Alan to hide, a firm hand was grasping the back of her black turtleneck. She yelped as she was pried from the engine, and Alan yelled after her as Trickster swiftly walked toward the basement with her over his shoulder. He couldn’t help but smile as he carried her down the stairs, turning the corner and letting her fall to the ground. He had mulled over hooking her in his rough drafts, but ultimately decided against it. Instead, he rolled her onto her back and dropped on top of her.

Wake was usually not far behind whenever she was in danger, and Jiwoon wanted him to see this. He took a blade out and plunged it into the fabric of her long-sleeve, cutting it straight up the middle to reveal her bra. Joan stopped struggling and stared at him in shock, but he wanted her to make some noise so he pressed the blade into her shoulder, just deep enough to make her scream. He started to fiddle with the zipper on the side of her skirt and heard Wake come bustling down the stairs as Joan was quietly pleading ‘no, please don't, no no no stop’. Trickster catches his gaze and Wake stops in his tracks in disbelief at the sight. His blood is boiling and his fist is ready to connect with the killer's jaw, but he knows he can't. He’s not allowed to. He'll be punished.

'Good,' Jiwoon thinks, 'stay on script'.

He holds the older man’s gaze as he stands up, leaving Joan writhing beneath him, holding her wound.

"Heal her." He instructs, and though Alan doesn't quite comprehend what's happening, he rushes to Joan’s side to help her. He sees her exposed chest and cute mint-green bra and forces himself to focus on her injuries, burning a second hole through the hole in her shoulder.

"Allie... Allie..." She cries, grabbing onto his jacket sleeves, her grip loose.

"It's okay, I'm here. I'm here."

He tries to reassure her but there's still too many questions about the situation. That and she’s half naked underneath him and he hopes it isn’t obvious he’s avoiding looking her in the eyes. As he finishes healing her and is about to help her stand up, Trickster lunges at him, downing him in one hit. Joan yelps at the sudden movement, jumping away. She wants to run but her feet feel like they’re made out of concrete, sinking her into the floor. Her and the killer stare at each other as he peers over his shoulder, slowly turning to face her as he starts to close the distance between them. She begins to inch away but her back hits a locker, allowing the Trickster to get right in her face. She turns her head away as he holds the blade of his knife up to her neck, slowly lowering it to trail down her stomach to her waist..

"Take off your skirt."

"DON'T."

Wake's booming voice bellows off the walls of the basement. For someone who was bleeding out, he sure did have a lot of strength left. Maybe it was just desperation, and that's exactly what Jiwoon wanted. He flashed a crazed smile, turning his attention back to the man on the ground. Wake was lying on his stomach, and Jiwoon easily dropped down on top of him, grabbing the back of his hair and holding his head up with a blade pressed into his neck.

"Take it off or I'm gutting him like a fish."

Joan’s hands are shaking. She looks back and forth between Alan’s pleading gaze and the line of red threatening to bloom from his neck. She carefully reaches up to the zipper on her plaid skirt and starts pulling it down.

"June.. don't." he stutters out, his breath shaky.

But Joan listens to the popstar, bending one knee and taking one leg out and then the other. She never pulls her gaze away from the knife, afraid that if she blinks it will be pressed further into his skin. She drops it beside her, revealing her matching panties under her pantyhose, and pulls together her blazer over her bare skin in embarrassment. Jiwoon retracts his knife and suddenly lets go of his grip on Wake's hair. His head drops to the floor. Not much strength left, eh?

"Heal him." he instructs again, and Joan clambers to her partner to stop the bleeding.

'Perfect. Everything is going perfect'.

"You don't have to do this… You can escape… Please… Joan. Please leave me-." Wake pauses between each sentence, breathing heavily, but gets cut off.

"Don't ever ask me to do something as stupid as that. I woudl never just let him torture you to save my own ass."

"Better me than you. I won't let him.. hurt you."

Alan was about to say 'I won't let him have you' but stopped himself. That was not what he should be thinking right now. Joan didn't belong to him, and he was married. He had… Alice. Right. That was her name.. He felt guilty every time he looked at Joan and felt something more than friendship. But in this type of situation the lines were starting to blur. How fucking dare he put his hands on her.

"Who says I'll be the one hurting her?"

Trickster chimes in as Joan finishes her healing. Wake sits up on one knee, still breathing heavily, and Joan bends down with a hand on his shoulder. He reaches a hand up to grab hers, and Jiwoon does his best not to fangirl because holy shit they’re actually touching hands. This was going even better than he had imagined. He made sure to block the exit, leaning against the wall at the bottom of the stairs, but no one was moving anyway. They were far too afraid to anger him.

"You two are gonna put on a show for me, a private show, for your loyal, royal, number one fan. You do what I say, and I'll let you wander the fog together, safe until the next game. How does that sound?"

The pair stared up at him confused.

"A show?" Alan questions, angrily. "What the hell are you talking about? We’re not your playthings."

"Woah, chill out man. I thought you'd be jumping at the chance to protect miss victoria's-secret-model here from the clutches of my toned abs."

Jiwoon points to his stomach dramatically, and Joan blushes deeper, trying to further hide behind Alan. He straightens his back in response, trying to protect her. Jiwoon almost can't keep his act together. He begins to walk towards them again, knife first, and points it right in Wake's face.

"On your back." he instructs, but doesn't wait for him to lie down, instead pushing him down by his shoulders. He groans in pain at the sudden movement, only half-healed. Trickster then grabs Joan by her shoulders, and shoves her down. Her knees hit the floor on both sides of Wake's waist, effectively straddling him. Their crotches connect causing both of them to flinch, and Joan does her best to pull herself off him. He uses their shock to slowly lower himself behind Joan.

"Undo his belt." Trickster whispers, leaning his chest into her back. He presses his knees into Alan’s thighs to prevent him from getting up or kicking her off.

"Wh-.... I-.... I-..." She stutters out, staring at the slightly exposed skin from under Alan’s untucked shirt.

"Unless you want me to make him pick his intestines off the floor, do what I say. Undo his belt. Now."

Joan and Alan hold eye contact again. His gaze seems to beg her not to, but not because he doesn't want her to.

"You don't have to do this Jun-."

Trickster holds the knife to her neck and she gasps. Wake freezes just as he's about to sit up. He knows it's a threat to keep him lying down. Trickster read his movements like a book.

"Oh, but she's going to. Isn't that right, Junebug?"

Joan’s lip quivers. That was the nickname her dad used to call her, the one she shared with Alan. That was the reason he called her ‘June’. How could the killer possibly know that? It frightened her even more.

"I-I'm-. I'm sorry, I-." she stuttered out as she took the metal clasp of Alan’s belt into her shaking hands, fiddling with the loop until it was open and unable to stop her repeated cycle of apologies.

"Now undo his pants."

She does as she's told, and Jiwoon keeps instructing her through it.

"Pull them down. Then his boxers. Gooood girl."

Joan shimmies the fabric down and her pupils go wide as his cock springs free, half hard. She had always fantasized about having her way with him in a match, but not like this. This just made her feel awful. And she felt even worse about how wet she was getting from forcing herself on him. Alan turned his head away, unable to face the effect she had on him.

'That's fine.' Trickster thought, 'Let's see how long you'll be able to keep that up.'

"Put your hand around him. Yeaaah just like that. Now start stroking uppp and downn."

Joan’s grip is loose as she feels the guilt taking over her. Is this really that much better than being tortured with a knife? This was its own fucked up type of torture. Things would never be the same between them when they made it out of here. How could she ever face him again? Jiwoon noticed her hesitation and gripped his own hand around hers, forcing her to grip Wake harder. He guided her hand as she stroked him, and Wake clenched his teeth trying not to let a whimper escape. Her hand was so soft and it felt so good, but it was so so fucking wrong.

"Keep going. Faster." Trickster releases Joan’s hand when he's satisfied she won't disobey him again. He lets the scene play on until he starts to see Wake buck his hips up into her hand.

"Stop."

Joan freezes, Alan’s hard cock pulsing in her stationary hand.

"Don't. Move."

Jiwoon snakes an arm around her waist, bringing the knife between the flat fabric of her bra at the centre of her chest, and yanks upward, cutting it clean in half. Her breasts bounce free, and she's quick to try and cover them but the killer catches her forearms before she can do so, pulling her whole body back and pushing her head forward. Her lips brush across Alan’s tip.

"Open your mouth and stick your tongue out. Do not make me ask you twice."

Joan once again does as she's told, beginning to lick a line up his shaft. Her breath is quivering, and it's hot against Wake's skin. He can't help himself and glances up to see Joan’s tits pressed into his crotch, her face flushed, her lips red. He gulps.

‘Think of Alice, think of Alice, think of-…’ he repeats over and over in his head.

Trickster notices the silent battle and his eyes twinkle. He takes the opportunity to let go of Joan’s wrists and instead gathers her hair back so it doesn't get in her face.

"Start sucking."

She closes her eyes, letting her sinful thoughts take over and hollowing her cheeks out. She was saving them both. She shouldn't feel bad. She also shouldn't be enjoying it as much as she was, but she couldn’t deny the feelings she harboured for him. She knew he must feel something for her. They shared far too many intimate moments for their relationship to be seen as 'just friends'. They were both being reduced to sweating, moaning messes. It wouldn’t be long before their animalistic instincts took over. It was getting Trickster hard just watching them, but that wasn't what he was here for.

Joan went up and down, sucking hard and swirling her tongue around. It felt so good Alan was seeing stars. He closed his eyes and all he could see was her face. She was god damned good at this. Better than his wife, which was a dangerous thought to think but he couldn't help himself. He hadn't felt the touch of a woman in god knows how long, and now a woman he had strictly forbidden himself from touching was hitting his cock against the back of her throat.

"Help guide her head."

Wake was snapped out of his ruminating to see Trickster staring directly at him from behind Joan. It was almost as if he was hypnotising him. His arms unconsciously began to lift and his hands touched Joan’s head, pressing her down and lifting her back up, matching her rhythm. It wasn't long before his grip had tightened and he was shoving her up and down further and faster to get him closer to his high. His hips bucked into her face and it made his belt jingle. He felt himself getting closer and closer to the edge, threatening to burst. But Trickster wasn't done yet. He yanked Joan off of him by her hair, a line of her spit trailing between them, and Alan whined as he felt the cold breeze wash over his raw, aching cock. He was so close.

"You cum when I say you can." The killer said, pleased with the reaction he was getting. He turned his attention to Joan. "We’re only halfway through the show, no skipping to the good part."

He let go of her hair and pushed her over onto Alan, her breasts hitting the fabric of his dress shirt as she was pressed into his chest and felt his bare cock on her stomach. Trickster wasted no time cutting a hole into the back of her pantyhose, ripping them apart with his hands. He then hooked his hands under her shoulders and pulled her back up.

“Move your panties to the side.” He said into Joan’s ear, loud enough for Wake to hear. “And YOU. I’m not touchin another dude’s junk, so hold it up, and make sure it’s straight.”

Time seemed to slow as the words fell from the killer’s mouth. A shameful blowjob for the killer’s entertainment was one thing, but actually making them fuck each other? Just what kind of game was this psycho playing? This was on a whole other level of wrong, specifically a line in the sand that was never supposed to be crossed, and the Trickster was like a strong gust of wind just blowing it away. Neither of them could look at each other, and Jiwoon felt the tension in the air. No one dared to move. Was this a bad end? Did his plan fail?? Was this the one fic tag he had glanced over in the beginning coming to fruition, #no happy ending??? He almost regretted everything he had done to them… Almost. Just as he was about to start waving a white blade in defeat, he felt Joan’s arm moving. She reached down to her groin, slowly pulling the thin fabric away from her sex. He looked down to see Wake’s hand firmly grasping his erection, his head still looking to the side with his eyes closed. The shame wasn't enough to make them stop what he had started. He felt a crazed smile curling at his lips again. HE KNEW THEY WOULD PULL THROUGH!!!! HE SHOULD’VE NEVER DOUBTED HIS POWER COUPLE IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!!!!!! HASHTAG LOVE WINS OR WHATEVER!!!!

He slowly lowered her down. Joan felt the tip hit her and she gasped at the contact as Alan dragged himself over her folds, trying to find her entrance without having to look at it. Rather than shame, the feeling was embarrassment. Neither of them wanted to do this in front of someone, let alone one of the people who killed them for sport. But neither of them could stop themselves. It was just like the Trickster had envisioned. Wake slightly raised his hips to push the tip of his cock inside of Joan, and she couldn’t help but let a moan escape her lips.

“Is it in?” The Trickster asked flatly.

“Y-yes…” Joan had whimpered out. Without warning, the Trickster had let go of her arms, and she dropped down hard onto Alan’s crotch, completely swallowing him. She cried out, having no time to adjust to his girth. He was so big that it was painful. She carefully lifted her hips as her walls burned, but Trickster shoved her back down, and she let out another cry. Alan was suffering in a different way. She was gripping him so hard, her sex was tight and warm and wet, he was holding himself back from gripping her hips and thrusting up into her like a wild animal.

“I-it hurts.”

“You’ll get used to it.”

Jiwoon replied thoughtlessly on purpose, leaving room for Wake to speak up and comfort her. And he did, right on script. He reached out a hand toward her, and she met him halfway, reaching out her own to intertwine their fingers.

“H-hey, June. I-it’s okay. It’s okay. Look at me, it’s okay. I’m right here. I’m right here.” His voice was trembling as he tried his best to soothe her. He glared at the man standing over them, and Jiwoon put his hands up in defeat, letting their story play out without any more of his direct intervention. He backed away, watching them from a safe distance, and took out his knives to fiddle with as a warning, making sure Wake got the message. He did.

“O-okay. Okay. It’s alright. I’m alright.” Joan replied, her words just as shaky as Alan’s. Jiwoon didn’t need to tell them what to do next. They already knew. Alan put his free hand on her thigh.

“Start slow, okay? We’ll go slow. Just focus on me. Focus on your breathing. No crying, okay? I know you can be a crybaby.” Alan tried his luck at a joke, and was able to pull a chuckle from Joan’s lips.

“O-okay.” She laughed, taking a deep breath. “Okay. Slow. We’ll go slow.”

“Do you want me to help?”

“N-no no. No. I can do it.”

She delicately raised herself up the smallest amount she could manage, and lowered herself back down. Alan whined at the friction. She felt so fucking good and he needed more. She kept going, steadying her breathing, her grip on Alan’s hand getting tighter. Her walls were relaxing around him, but she was still so god damn tight. She reached a finger to her clit, rubbing it in circles and it made her moans become louder. They were music to Alan’s ears. But Alan had a wife. What about your wife, Alan? Remember her? Her name-... Her… what was her name again…? Joan began to speed up, allowing his name to roll off her tongue, and he tilted his head back, letting it hit the floor as he closed his eyes. Shit, this feeling was dangerous. He began to match her movements, thrusting in and out, the sound of skin slapping skin growing louder. They almost forgot about the other presence in the room. Trickster watched them intently, beginning to palm himself over his pants. Was this the type of stuff survivors got up to in their spare time? He almost wished he could share a tent with Yunjin. Damn, this was fucking hot. It was a million times better than the way he conjured it up in his head. Imagine your wildest fanfiction dreams being acted out in a way you could watch over and over and over again. Oh! He almost forgot! Danny, the Ghost Face, had generously lent him his camera for this very reason, though he wanted him to fail miserably just to see the sad look on his face, he was also secretly a #Aloan shipper.

Jiwoon shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and fished out the silver digital camera, turning it on. He wasn’t into photos like Danny, he strictly wanted to capture videos. He flicked around with the settings until he deemed it perfect, and pressed the shutter. The camera made a beeping noise to signal that it was now recording, and he stalked closer to the couple, capturing their intimate moment forever on film. Joan took notice and started to slow her movements, her anxiety taking over, but Alan reassured her, picking up her slack by thrusting deeper.

“Hey, hey. Keep looking at me. It’s okay June. It’s okay. You’re okay. You're here with me.”

But the Trickster was starting to become impatient. He put the camera on the ground, pointing it toward them.

“Alright, love birds. He smirked. “Time for the big finale.”

He sauntered over to them, pulling Joan off of Wake once again. They both felt the disconnect this time, whining in sync as Joan was pushed onto her back. The ground was cold and unwelcoming. Jiwoon crouched down, spreading his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. Alan also half-sat up on his elbows, looking directly into the killer’s piercing stare, almost as if asking 'what the hell do you want now?'. He leaned in closer to the man on the floor.

“Now get on top of her and fuck her brains out.” Trickster winked.

He pushed himself up off his knees and walked away, back into the corner where he came from, picking up the camera as he went. He waited.

“If you don’t put your dick inside her, I will.” He called out from across the room. “And I know you don't want anyone else’s dick anywhere near her.”

Alan hated him. He hated how right he was. Hated how hearing those words made him feel. Joan was his woman. No one else could have her, not while he was around. Over his goddamn dead body. He turned to his side and got on his hands and knees, crawling the short distance over to her until he was right on top of her, his legs inbetween her own. His tie fell into her face, and she sheepishly reached up to loosen it. He bent his head down so she could pull it off of him.

“Thanks…” He muttered.

She pressed her lips together and nodded in response, looking down. His hard cock was hovering above her stomach, and she felt a bolt of lightning go through her body. Alan lowered his gaze too, eyes landing on her perfect tits. He tried not to think about how he wanted them in his mouth, but he failed miserably.

“I’m losin battery life here, folks. Get on with it.”

The Trickster feigned impatience but he just really wanted them to start talking to each other. He pointed the camera back at them, adjusting the zoom. The pair’s eyes looked towards him, the camera, then back at each other like deer in the headlights.

“I’m sorry we have to do this in front of him.” Alan offered his sympathy, but Joan’s reply surprised him.

“This isn't how I imagined how first time. I wish it was different than this.” She smiled, but tears started to prickle in her eyes.

Shit.

Alan steadied himself, thinking over his options before he got closer to her face, and kissed her forehead gently.

“I promise I will protect you. You’re safe as long as you’re with me. Alright?”

Joan swiftly nodded, trying not to let her tears spill. He continued.

“Do you trust me?”

“I trust you. I-I trust you, yes. Of course I do.”

“Can I put it inside you?”

Joan hesitated, looking down again. Alan was lining himself up. She looked back up and in a moment of bravery reached up to cup his face and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. He was shocked, but kissed her back. That was answer enough for him. They kept kissing as he rubbed himself over folds again, pressing the tip gently in and out. He pushed further in, and Joan gasped, but he caught her lips again and continued to kiss her. He kept slowly pushing in and out, going further each time he went in, until he was fully sheathed inside her. They both let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding.

Yep. This was WAYYY better than the Trickster had hoped for.

“I’m gonna start moving, okay? Are you ready?”

“I-I’m ready.”

Alan pulled back, but paused for a moment.

“Do you… want this?”

“What?” Joan asked in disbelief. Trickster cocked his head to the side behind the camera. Was he really asking this right now?

“I like you, Joan. If we’re really doing this, I need to know that you want thi-.”

He was cut off by Joan reaching up again to kiss him. She was the one to pull back first so she could reply.

“Alan Wake, you big stupid oblivious man. I like you. So much. I didn’t want to overstep but, wasn’t it obvious…?”

“I… I like you too. I like you so much too-.”

Wake’s words were cut off again by himself this time, pressing their lips together, this time with a hunger he hadn’t felt in a long time. Joan reached her hands up to run them through his hair. Jiwoon was screaming internally. He felt like a fan watching their idol finally receive a daesang after being with them since debut. He was SO making his own #Aloan banners and lightsticks when he got back, and he was SO rubbing it into Merchant’s face. Hell, he wanted to throw a fucking pizza party. He should start planning that ASAP.

Alan pushed himself back inside Joan, and she flinched as he spread her walls apart. She was soaking wet and her juices were rubbing all over Alan’s crotch. He began to speed up as he pushed her legs further apart, pulling her down by the thighs, closer to his body. They never broke the kiss, moaning into each other’s mouths. Joan removed her hands from his hair and brought them to his dress shirt, fumbling around with the buttons until they were all undone. She ran her hands over his toned torso, wanting to feel as much of him and she could. This made Alan pull back from the kiss and adjust himself, and Joan was confused until he gripped the sides of her hips and began pounding into her with the fire of a thousand suns. The basement was filled with the sound of their love making, loud, breathy moans, each other's names falling lovingly from their lips inbetween deep kisses, and the hot squelching noises of their juices mixing between them. Joan's back arched off the ground and she closed her eyes, one of her hands coming up to cover her mouth, embarrassed at the noises she was making. Alan saw what she was doing, and had other plans. He took both of her wrists in his hands, pulling them up over her head and holding them firmly in place.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I want to hear you.”

He sped up his pace even faster, dipping his head down to lick and suck on her neck. Her breasts bounced against his chest, feeling her nipples against him was driving him crazy.

“W-wait, that’s- ah, s-s-sensitive-, ahh.”

Hearing her say that had him sucking harder, leaving a trail of hickeys leading down to her collar bones. He started kissing a line down to her breasts, and adjusted his grip on her arms, moving them so they were beside her head. This allowed him to keep going down her body, and he licked over one of her nipples as her body curled to the side and his cock to hit a sweet spot inside her. The sound she let out went straight to his groin, and he alternated between sucking and biting on her breast and nipple. He let go of one her wrists to take her other breast in his hand. She brought one of her legs up and rested it on his shoulder, letting him thrust deeper inside her, hitting her cervix.

“A-Allie… Allie- ah, I-I’m gonna- o-oh my god I’m gonna-.”

She stuttered out his pet name as she felt the build up between her legs like a dam threatening to burst. Her stomach was coiling tighter and tighter into itself. Alan let go of her other arm, and she brought them down to grip onto his forearms.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck i’m gonna- I-I’m, oh fuck Alan.”

“Cum for me baby. Cum for me. It’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you. You're safe. I've got you baby.”

He whispered sweet nothings in her ear as he felt her begin to tense around him, keeping his same pace to drive her straight over the edge. She was going to speak up again, but her orgasm suddenly hit her, and she sputtered his name over and over again between moans as her whole body violently twitched underneath him. She threw her head back, and it hit against the ground before he placed his hand under it, stopping it from hitting the concrete floor. He slowed his thrusting as her walls pulsed around him, trying to milk his own orgasm out of him, but he wasn’t ready to cum yet. He planted gentle kisses all over her face, landing on her lips.

“You’re doing so well baby, you’re doing so well for me.”

Her chest was heaving, her breathing heavy as she came down from her high, her eyes fluttering. Alan continued to kiss her neck softly, slowly pushing in and out.

“Can I keep going, or do you want to stop?”

Joan thought about it as if she had a choice. Her droopy eyes glanced over to the killer in the corner, his camera flashing to signal that it was still recording. Alan followed her gaze, nearly forgetting the reason they were doing this in the first place.

“W-we can stop now-.”

“No.”

He began to pull away from her, but she stopped him, putting a hand on his cheek and giving him a soft smile.

“I want you to keep going. Keep going until you're satisfied.”

“I-I… don't want to overdo it.”

“You won’t.”

“Please tell me if I do.”

“I will. Of course I will… He told you to fuck my brains out, remember?”

“Pfft.”

That earned a snicker from Wake. At least she could still find some humour in this situation, as fucked up as it was.

“You really want me to fuck your brains out…?” He cocked an eyebrow.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I walk with a limp back to the campfire. Do your worst, Wake.”

Joan smirked, and it caught Alan off guard. This was a new side he was seeing for the first time, and he didn’t hate it.

“Alright. You asked for it.”

He pulled out of her, wasting no time to flip her onto her stomach. The cold floor made her nipples hard, and she shivered at the contact. He grabbed her waist, pulling her ass up into the air and spanking it with a loud smack. She yelped from beneath him, but moaned into it. It was his turn to smirk.

‘Do your worst, huh?’ he thought. But he wanted to save some stuff for when they were truly alone. He grabbed the waistband of her ripped pantyhose and her underwear, pulling them both down in one swift motion and smacked her now bare ass again, enjoying every new noise he could pull from her lips. He took a good look at her sex, and she could feel his burning gaze, becoming embarrassed. She was about to regret asking for more when he plunged two fingers into her, scissoring them around a bit before adding another. She was so fucking warm, and soaking wet. And the smell of sex was driving him insane. He wondered if she ever touched herself to the thought of him, and the image of her whimpering his name alone in her tent set off something inside of him. He pulled his fingers back and licked them clean.

Shaking off his blazer, it dropped to the floor next to him. He was sweating like a mule. He decided to take off his shirt too, it was already half off anyway. He looked back down to Joan, and decided to undress her too.

“Put your arms back for me baby.”

She did as she was told, and he grabbed onto the cuffs of her own blazer, pulling it off with the remnant of her turtleneck, leaving her bare back exposed. She put her hands back down to the floor, shivering again, but he grabbed her biceps pulling her back. He pressed his chest into her arched back, and she rested her head on his shoulder, looking up at him.

“I wanna feel you baby, your skin on mine.”

“I-I’d like that.”

Joan stuttered out a reply as she felt his cock get hard again, pressing into her ass. He released her arms to grab her boobs, and kneaded them, softly tugging at her nipples. His cock was dripping with precum as he rubbed himself against her, and she pressed herself back, further into him.

“I’m gonna put it in.”

He was about to reach down one of his hands but she stopped him.

“No, let me… Okay?”

Her fingertips brushed against him, delicately stroking him, and his breath hitched.

“O-okay.”

He returned his hand to her breast, and planted a trail of kisses across her shoulders as she prepared herself. She rubbed him along her folds until she settled on her hole, and pushed back to bury the tip inside her. Alan thrusted the tip in and out a few times before jerking his hips forward and back, immediately setting a relentless pace. Joan cried out, not from pain, but from the pleasure taking over her. Wake could tell the difference and didn’t stop, letting his carnal instincts take over. He shoved himself deeper and deeper inside of her, his pace as rapid as his own heartbeat that was pounding out of his chest. Fucking hell she was melting around him. He wrapped his arms around body and burried his head in his neck, holding her firmly in place as if she would disappear, biting down on her shoulder, leaving a mark but not drawing blood. She tried to meet his pace but it was proving to be impossible. He was eating her like she was his last meal, he wanted to devour her whole. He kept trying to remind himself how dangerous this was, but he didn’t care anymore. He wanted to make sure she remembered the shape of his cock. It felt so good, and she sounded like heaven. She couldn’t stop moaning and cursing.

“God I just want to destroy you.” He let his thoughts mix with his words as he felt his climax reaching its peak. His breathing was heavy, his voice low and husky. He was almost growling.

“I’ve held back for so, so long. I’m not gonna let you go so easily.”

“Allie, A-Allieeee, ugh. Don’t stop Allie. I-I’m gonna-”

“Keep saying my name- ugh, k-keep saying my name. You’re mine. O-only I get to- ugh.. fuck you like this. Fuck, Joan. Joannn. Ughh Joan.”

His movements were becoming erratic and sloppy, and his grip around her tightened, bending her over slightly to fuck into her from a different angle. He was so damn close. He was gonna fill her up so good. So fucking goo-.

“F-fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK, ugh, Joannn. Fuuuck, ughhh.”

He sputtered out, his voice turning into a sweet melody of whimpers as he pumped everything he had into her. Joan felt her walls get sticky, and Alan didn’t relent his pace. Her second orgasm washed over her as he continued to cum, holding her firmly in place as he felt her spasm under him. She dropped her head forward, exhausted, and he finally began to slow to a stop. Their breathing was the only thing they could hear as he gently relaxed his grip and pulled out of her. Joan collapsed on the ground, her ass sticking out in the air, giving Alan the perfect view of his cum dripping out of her.

Damnit, he wanted to fuck her again.

“You think you can get pregnant in here?”

A chipper voice broke through the private moment, causing Wake’s head to snap in the direction of the sound. The Trickster was right beside him, leaning forward and admiring the view. Wake quickly grabbed his blazer off the floor and draped it over Joan’s rear, covering her from the killer’s sick gaze. He got between them as he stood up and pulled up his boxers, staring daggers into the idol.

‘Hey, that’s my job.’ he thought, flashing Wake a smile. Wake just furrowed his brows deeper.

“Show’s over, pal. We did what you wanted.” He said sternly. They had held up their end of the deal, now it was time for Trickster to make good on his word. He chuckled, leaning back to stand up straight.

“Yeah yeah, I suppose you did.” ‘You did that and more,’ he thought to himself. “Well! I’ll let you two get dressed. I’ll be just upstairs.” He sang as he sauntered up the stairs, leaving the pair alone. Joan had begun to get up from the ground, turning herself over to sit down properly. She realized she was sitting on Alan’s blazer.

“Oh- Alan. I’m making your jacket all… gross. ” She whispered the last part, a bit ashamed. She began to stand up but forgot her pantyhose were around her thighs, limiting her movement. Her feet caught on themselves and she began to tumble forward, colliding with Alan’s chest as he caught her in time, her breasts pressing into him again. He sighed lovingly, looking down at her.

“So… walking with a limp, huh?”

She blushed, hitting his shoulder.

“Not a word until we’re out of here mister.”

“Are sure you're able to walk out of here?”

“Not another word!” She huffed as he laughed, pulling herself off of him only to be pulled back, a kiss pressed against her lips. Alan’s gaze softened as he pulled away.

“I love you.”

“!”

Joan squeaked at the sudden confession. He WHAT!? Alan LOVED her? Her!? The same her that was an absolute liability in matches and wouldn’t know map sense if a pallet hit her in the face, and Alan was there to save the day every single time. Steam came out of her ears as her brain tried to process the information. Alan frowned awkwardly at her overthinking.

“You don’t have to give me an answer-.”

“I LOVE YOU TOO.”

His eyes went wide as he was cut off by Joan's sudden yelling. Embarrassment washed over her face and she dropped her gaze to the ground.

“I-I mean.. I love you too, Allie. I have.. for a while…”

She sheepishly looked up at him, suddenly scared to hear his response, but was met with a goofy grin instead.

“What…?” She asked, wondering if something was funny.

Alan offered no verbal response and instead started laughing, lifting her up and twirling her around.

“A-Alan! Hey!”

She joined in on laughing with him, and they spun around giggling until they settled down.

“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that.”

He flashed a genuine, glowing smile, and all Joan could do was warmly smile back, careful not to start sobbing on the spot. That would have to wait for later, when they weren’t in a literal meat freezer.

Oh. Right.

They both seemed to realize where they were again and quickly released each other, beginning to pick up their clothes and get dressed. All the while, Jiwoon was quietly listening on the staircase, looking like the meme of the guy crying while holding the lightsticks in Wake Up, Girls!

His ship had finally sailed.

/////

As they made their way up the stairs, the Trickster was awaiting them at the top, leaning cooly against a locker, admiring his nails absentmindedly. He totally hadn’t been eavesdropping, psh, not a chance, he would never do that. He looked at the survivors up and down. Joan had chosen to discard her mauled tights, and was wearing Wake's dress shirt. Wake wore his jacket with no shirt underneathe. Both of their hair was a bit of a mess. And they were holding hands.

STAGE CLEAR .ᐟ‧₊˚✩彡

“I suppose a deal’s a deal.” Trickster said nonchalantly, trying to sound as bored as possible. He sighed extra loud for dramatic effect. Alan raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. So, we’re gonna go work on the last gen-.”

As if God himself had intervened, the last gen lit up across the map, signalling its completion, and the exit alarm started blaring. They all heard the exit gates opening and stared at each other in disbelief.

It seems the Entity had had enough and was telling them to get the fuck out.

“I’ll, uh… walk you two out. Ha ha… ha.” Trickster said, trailing off his laugh. He was sure to get a mouthful when he got back. He hoped the beating wasn’t too bad this time. He knew it would be. It was worth it. Totally worth it.

He swivelled on his heel toward the exit and led the newly announced couple to the edge of the map and through the exit doors, stopping just before the spikes came up signalling he couldn’t go any further.

“Pleasure doin business with ya, Wakey. Let’s do this again sometime, yeah?”

Alan let go of Joan's hand and straightened his back, getting right in Trickster’s face.

“Let’s not, yeah?”

Jiwoon felt his overwhelming presence and immediately backed down, dropping his shoulders as if to protect himself. He placed his hands in his pockets and felt the cool plastic casing of the digital camera. His eyes flickered back and forth between the pair. He was about to say something along the lines of ‘have a safe trip home!’ but felt he had said enough for the day. He simply nodded as Wake led Joan into the fog, placing a hand around her lower back and pulling her closer. The pair had seldom thought how they were going to start to unpack what had just happened to them. They felt it was in their best interest to just ignore it and hope for the best; they'd jump off that bridge when they got to it. But they had one another to help the other through the nightmares now. There was no space left between them anymore, no need to keep each other at arm's length. They were truly together. And they'd be even more together sharing a tent later tonight to finish what they had started without a serial killer across the room.

Jiwoon watched as they started to disappear, and noticed Joan was slightly faltering as she went. Was she walking with a limp…?

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck and looking around as if someone could be watching him. When they were completely gone, he let his crazed smile light up his face and he squealed, jumping around and waving his hands in the air.

The other killers were not gonna BELIEVE this.

#alan wake #alan wake smut #alan wake x ofc #alan wake 2 #dead by daylight #trickster #smut #now kiss!#i know he's married and i love him and alice together so very much #something just took over the worms in my brain and i needed to have sex with him i'm sorry

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