: The AnnouncementAuthor
: Charlie Weasley/Hermione GrangerRating
: Dub-con, choking/breathplay. Themes/kinks chosen
: coprolalia: dirty talk, harnesses: as used in bondage (mentioned in passing), salirophilia. Word Count
: Hermione's sure of her choice, so why is Charlie making things so difficult?Author's notes
: Dedicated to tamlane
, who inspired this story with a discussion in her journal.
Thanks to emynn
for checking this over for me. Disclaimer:
The characters contained herein are not mine. No money is being made from this fiction, which is presented for entertainment purposes only.
Hermione blushes under the attention and the hugs as she’s passed from Weasley to Weasley. Ron, on the other side of the room, looks a bit overwhelmed at the result his announcement wrought, but Hermione’s not really surprised. After all, they’ve all been through a lot, what with the war and its aftermath, and a wedding is just the thing to cheer everyone up.
“When are you planning to have the ceremony?” Molly asks amidst all the babble.
“We were thinking about the autumn,” Hermione says. “October perhaps?”
autumn?” Molly’s eyes widen almost comically. “Oh, but it’s June! We have so much to do! Good grief!”
“You’re in for it now,” says Ginny with a grin. “When Mum goes into overdrive, no one’s safe.”
Hermione starts to laugh until she spots Charlie in the corner and her smile falters. He’s staring at her, his eyes blazing as they bore into hers, and she know she owes him at least an explanation. She licks her lips, swallowing hard, as his eyes darken.
He nods once towards the stairs, demand written in every line of his body.
Hermione hesitates then slowly nods. She owes him this, she reminds herself as she manoeuvres herself around everyone to meet him at the top of the stairs. Even though what happened that night last week was a mistake, she thinks as she climbs the stairs, maybe we can salvage a proper brother/sister relationship out of this. She’ll just explain that him seeing her at that club was one last fling; her sowing her wild oats before settling down. Surely he’ll see she’s entitled to that.
The sound of the merriment downstairs is muted at top of the stairs. At times, the Burrow seems tiny, with everyone living on top of each other, and at other times, like now, it feels like each room is its own little world.
Hermione steps into the landing and looks around. She doesn’t immediately see Charlie and she frowns. “Charlie?” she whispers. “Are you--?”
She starts to shriek as she’s lifted and carried down the hallway to a room, but she can’t because of the hand slapped over her mouth. For all Charlie is compact, his hands are big, almost smothering her, and she’s lightheaded when he finally kicks the door closed and tosses her on his bed.
Taking big gulps of air, she glares up at him. “What on earth did you do that for?”
Charlie crosses his arms and stares at her. “We need to talk and I needed to move quickly. Percy was on his way up behind you.”
The door to the next room slams and Hermione exhales. “Ah, right. Well you almost choked me.”
“Did I?” His gaze flicks to her throat then back up to her face. “Sorry.”
He’s not and she can tell. Hermione bites her lower lip. “Look, Charlie. I’m sorry you had to hear about our engagement like that, but, well, you knew Ron and I were serious, right? I mean you seeing me at that club doesn’t mean anything--”
“Do you love him?” Charlie interrupts.
Hermione blinks. “Ron? Of course I do. Why else would I be marrying him?”
“Why indeed.” Charlie’s eyes narrow and before she can move, he’s got her pinned to the bed and he’s settling on top of her, his thigh pushing her legs apart. “Maybe because he makes you feel safe? Maybe because that’s what everyone expects yo to do? Or maybe it’s because you’re supposed to the the good girl, but you’re not, are you?”
Hermione starts to struggle, to push him away, but he’s too strong, and when he sets his hand to her throat, she goes still. “Charlie...please don’t,” she begs.
“Don’t what?” Charlie asks. His fingers tighten slowly, inexorably. “Don’t choke you, even though you love it and it makes you wet? Don’t tighten my grip until you’re gasping and then fuck you into this mattress? Don’t mess you up and then send you back downstairs looking like you’ve been shagged and with my come running out of you?” He smirks. “You loved it when I fucked you at the club. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t now.”
Hermione tries to talk but can’t, his fingers are too tight. She starts to gasp for air, her vision going spotty, her hands trying to pry at his, but it’s no use, and it’s only when she’s on the very edge of losing consciousness that he eases up slightly. “Charlie--” she coughs.
“Shut up.” He leans in, scraping his teeth along her jaw as his free hand slides under her skirt to toy with the edge of her knickers. “Let’s see how wet you are, shall we?”
As he sinks two fingers into her, she closes her eyes, ashamed. She’s drenched and throbbing for him and she shouldn’t be, dammit! “We shouldn’t,” she whispers. “Everyone’s downstairs, they may hear--”
“Not everyone,” Charlie murmurs, his fingers crooking inside her. “Percy’s next door, remember?”
Charlie hums. “Ron would never do this, you know,” he says, tone almost conversational. He draws back just enough to pull his fingers out of her and grab his wand from his back pocket. “He’d never sneak you up to his room and fuck you while there’s a party going on downstairs. I bet he’s never fucked you anywhere but in the bed in your flat.”
Hermione knows she should defend Ron, she’s going to marry him after all, but even as she draws breath to speak, Charlie’s grip on her throat tightens again. “I’m not like him,” Charlie says. He waves his wand and their clothes are gone. “I take what I want, where I want.” Shifting, he manages to spread her legs wider. “And right now, Hermione, I want to fuck you until you scream.” He smiles as his cock nudges at her labia, prods inside. “Oh, wait,” he purrs. “You can’t, can you?”
Hermione gasps for air as he fills her and fills her. She’s aching, her cunt pulsing around him, and he doesn’t let up. He moves smoothly in and out of her, his fingers exerting their steady pressure on her throat all the while. She’s going to have bruises, she may even have trouble swallowing dinner later. But clearly, Charlie doesn’t care. He fondles her nipples as he moves, at times bending his head to suck and bite them. And all the while he’s whispering the filthiest things.
“If I were him I’d want to watch you get fucked by everyone. I’d have parties and I’d invite my friends to come over and fuck you. But not Ronnie, oh no. He’s going to insist that you be with only him.” Charlie hums, leaning close, catching the lobe the lobe of her ear loosely in his teeth. “But we both know that’s not you, Hermione. You love
fucking. I saw how much you love it last week. How many did you take before I get there and got my turn?”
Hermione against starts to struggle, but Charlie is ready, and a sharp word from him sends rope shooting around her hands, tying them in front of her.
Charlie releases her neck, but before Hermione can say a word, or a counterspell, rope replaces his hand, sliding around her neck. She gasps, chest heaving.
Charlie slides his hands under her bottom, lifting her so that he can slide into her more easily. He smiles down at her as he fucks her. “The next time we do this, I’m putting you in a harness,” he pants. “You would be magnificent.”
Hermione’s lightheaded, her vision going spotty again, but Charlie doesn’t falter, doesn’t hesitate, he simply pounds into her, speeding up until finally, with a grunt, he shudders, pouring himself into her before collapsing atop her.
When he catches his breath, he raises his head and looks at her. He knows she hasn’t come, she can see it in his eyes.
“You want to come?” he murmurs, slipping his limp cock out of her and rolling to the side.
Hermione sets her lips in a line, but the rope slowly starts to tighten and she finally gasps, “Yes!”
He smiles. “Of course you do. That’s all you want to do all the time, isn’t it? if it was up to you, you’d spend all day, every day on your back, legs spread, cocks and fingers inside you.” Slipping two fingers into her, he plunges them in and out even while he circles her clit with his thumb until she’s trembling, aching. “Come for me, baby.”
She does, her vision going white as she arches off the bed, trembling.
When she comes back to herself, the rope is gone, her clothes as beside her on the bed, all crumpled. With a moan, she sits up, spotting him standing by the window looking out. “You still planning to marry him?” he asks without turning to look at her.
Hermione sighs. “Yes.” She reaches for her clothes, trying to put them in some semblance of order. She dressed carefully for today, someone’s sure to notice she’s a mess now. She snorts. “I mean, it’s not as if you
want to marry me.”
Charlie turns to face her. “You’re right. I don’t.” He hums. “But I’ll never get tired of fucking you.”
Standing, Hermione tries to gather her tattered dignity around herself. “Once we get married, I won’t be doing this anymore.”
Charlie smirks. “Keep telling yourself that, baby.”
Exhaling, Hermione starts for the door. Her hand is on the handle when he says, “When you want more, you’ll know where to find me.”
Shaking her head, she exits and slips into the bathroom. It takes a couple of tries, but she finally manages to put herself back together, spelling away the bruises and smoothing out her hair. Once she’s satisfied she looks somewhat dignified, she goes back down the stairs, rejoining the party.
“You okay?” Ron asks, slipping an arm around her. “You were gone for a while.”
“I had a headache,” Hermione lies. “I went to lie down for a while.”
Ron smiles, kissing her cheek. “Yeah, I understand. We Weasleys can be pretty overwhelming. Don’t let Mum drive you mad, though.”
Hermione relaxes against him, studiously avoiding looking at Charlie, who she knows is staring from across the room. But as Ginny and Molly continue discussing wedding plans, Hermione sighs knowing in her heart of hearts that she’ll be going back to Charlie for more. She shouldn’t, but she will.