Ariane DeVere (arianedevere) wrote,
Ariane DeVere

Primeval fic: Author, Author

Title: Author, Author
Author: Ariane DeVere
Rating: 15
Spoilers: none

He thrust harder into her as his pace began to increase. Her hips rose to meet his downthrusts and she gasped and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. He groaned appreciatively and buried his face in her shoulder, the sweat on his forehead feeling delicious against her already damp skin. As he drove into her again she could feel the familiar tingle starting in her thighs and knew that her climax was approaching. She began to lose coherent thought as all her senses dived down her body and she concentrated on nothing but the rising feeling of this is ... this is ... oh, this is ... ...

... This Is Not Right.

She forced herself to ignore the rising tingle in her thighs and looked up towards the dark ceiling.

“Uh, author?”

A high-pitched gasp came from the direction of the ceiling. Instantly the man above her froze – on a down thrust, which was partly rather nice and partly a bit uncomfortable. She tried to push him off her but he didn’t react and he was too heavy to shift by herself. She looked up to the ceiling again.


A strangled voice came from the ceiling. “Uh, hello?”

“So I’m right,” she said. “This is some sort of weird fiction, isn’t it?”

“Uh, how could you know that?” the voice asked, full of panic.

“Well, let’s see,” she said a little sarcastically. “I have no memory of how I got here, and I know I haven’t been drinking; and he’s not the sort to have drugged me and brought me here against my will.”

She wriggled a little, which provoked another pleasurable tingle from her thighs which she tried to ignore. The movement, however, made her realise something else.

“There are satin sheets on my bed. I’ve never had satin sheets in my life!”

She glared upwards and noticed something else.

“I don’t have a four poster bed with fancy drapes hanging from it, either!”

She glanced around her bedroom.

“And the scented candles are ridiculous!”

She wriggled again, trying to ease her aching legs which were starting to feel strained after being spread so wide for so long, and continued.

“Not to mention that I don’t do casual sex with someone I work with but aren’t dating. So unless I’ve died and this is some sort of Purgatory, I can’t think of any other valid reason why I’m in this situation!”

“You’d go to Sanctuary if you died,” the voice said promptly. Then it gasped and mumbled, “Forget I said that.”


“You’re not supposed to know about that.”

“Why not?”

“Look, just forget about it, OK?”

She frowned, trying to concentrate. “All right,” she said, and returned to the original subject. “Why am I even with him? There’s plenty of other guys at the ARC who I might be interested in, like ... um, never mind ... but this one?!”

She paused, feeling increasingly uncomfortable at the weight of the man on top of her, and raised her voice angrily. “I would never go with him even if he was the last man on Earth!”

“There’s no such thing as an impossible pairing,” the voice retorted. “I mean, have you visited Denial lately?”

“Denial?” she asked, wondering whether she’d misheard and the voice had said, “The Nile.” Either way, the reply didn’t make any sense.

“Oh,” the voice said nervously. “Never mind.”

She sighed. “Another thing I’m not supposed to know about?”

“Mmm,” the voice replied vaguely, then continued hurriedly. “Look, do you really not want to be with him?”

“Of course I don’t!” she said indignantly. “He’s not my type; I’ve never looked at him twice and I’m not even remotely interested in him now! Can’t you just get rid of him?”

“Well, I suppose I could,” said the voice thoughtfully. Then it turned a little tetchy. “I spent a lot of time on this, you know! It’s my first attempt at a pr0n story and now you’ve ruined it!”

“Oh, excuse me!” she said sarcastically. “You decide that I’ve got to shag some guy I don’t like and I’m supposed to be sympathetic to you?!”

The voice grumbled incoherently for a moment. “All right,” it eventually conceded. “Give me a minute.”

She heard the unmistakable sound of a cigarette lighter, and a second later the author drew in a sharp breath and then blew it out again. The faint smell of cigarette smoke drifted down from the ceiling. Moments later she heard fingers typing on a keyboard, and then suddenly the weight above her was gone and she was alone on the bed. Instantly she rolled onto her side, groaning as she pressed her legs together to try to relieve the ache in her muscles. As they began to ease, she looked around and found that the bed was back to normal and the candles were gone. She sighed with relief, then a thought hit her.

“Hey!” she called out. “He won’t remember any of this, will he?”

The voice didn’t reply, and the smell of cigarettes was gone.

She lay there for over an hour, mulling over the weird experience. It was more than a little worrying that apparently someone was influencing her life in this way; but even more disturbing was the fact that she couldn’t forget the feeling of him. Despite her assertions that she would never have even considered sleeping with him, she couldn’t shake off the memory of how he’d felt on top of her and – more importantly – inside her. He’d felt so ... right. She really wasn’t in the least bit attracted to him, but right now all she could feel was a sense of loss that they hadn’t finished what they’d started, and an increasingly undeniable need to know whether he really did feel that good.

Hardly believing that she was doing this, she picked up her phone from her bedside table, scrolled through the menu and dialled. The phone at the other end was answered almost immediately. For a moment she seriously considered hanging up, but then she drew in a deep breath.

“Danny? Hi, it’s Sarah. Am I disturbing you?”


Somewhere out in the real world, the author took another drag on her cigarette and put her fingers back onto the keyboard, her eyes glazed and uncomprehending. Sitting comfortably at her feet, the bunny grinned evilly and let out a self-satisfied snigger.

Tags: primeval, primeval fic

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