emeritusemeritus

[emeritusemeritus]

Could I get a Weasley twins x female reader where they have an established relationship and drunk one night confesses that one of the twins is *bigger* but you don't remember which one at the moment and they offer to help you remember and then at some point in the smut of it all the twins take turns thrusting in one at a time like Fred in then George then Fred and etc...

Hi Anon! This request has made me genuinely feral and I couldn’t wait to start writing this! 🖤

Warnings: SMUT, descriptive & graphic smut, slight humiliation kink? Possessiveness, sex games, the twins compete. Competition, reader has to chose. Use of petnames.

Word count: 2.1k

The Bigger person.

You really weren't sure what had led to this very moment, memory a little blurry from the alcohol, but whatever or however you got here, you were eternally thankful that you did.

You spent the night dancing, drinking and catching up with your girlfriends in London, having a good time and letting loose. You'd gotten home safely, had something to eat upon returning back to the flat and sobered up slightly until you were joined by your boyfriends on the couch, recounting the stories you'd been told and laughing about the night. It had taken a turn just around then when you'd disclosed a certain piece of information to the twins that you usually kept close to your chest, but the drink had loosened your lips and had created the very situation you were facing.

Your clothes had been unceremoniously ripped off on route to the bedroom, as had most of your boyfriends' attire. It was a rush of kisses and touches, little spanks and a lot of manhandling which always made you aroused past the point of rationality. You'd been bent over on the bed, face pressed into the pillows as the twins surrounded you, bantering back and forth as they watched your naked figure squirm for them.

George had pulled one of his silken ties from the dresser and had tied it around your eyes into a makeshift blindfold which only prompted your other senses to become heightened, leading to you feeling desperately aroused for them both.

"Can you tell who I am?" One of them asks from your left side, his hand ghosting over your arched back and over the curve of your ass that was completely on display for him.

"Georgie," you say with a breathlessness that only came on from being so painfully ready.

"Good girl," he says, his finger slipping between your folds until he lingers around your weeping hole, teasing and torturing you as you squirm to get him to penetrate you. When his finger eventually slip inside you, it's like pure torture and sheer relief all at the same time. When his finger pulls away, you let out an exaggerated whine, feeling the loss of him beside you.

"Still can't remember who's bigger sweet girl?" A voice from behind you says, which you're almost certain is Fred.

That's exactly what got you here, like this. A slip of the tongue, an accident, in which you'd disclosed to your boyfriends that one of them was slightly 'bigger'. You knew George had a slight upwards curve to his cock and Fred was a tad wider  utnyly judt couldn't remember which of them could reach that spot deep inside you that made you breathless.

"Wanna find out?" The second voice said from your right side, which you thought was George.

"Please," you begged, not particularly caring about the game they were playing, you just wanted to be fucked, to be filled.

"Think we should get her remember mate?" One of the twins says to the other. It's almost sinful how wet this makes you, their playful banter talking about you without actually including you, like you're just a fuck toy to them.

"I reckon we need to," the other agrees, "wouldn't want our girl to forget would we?"

"Turns?" They say at the same time, apparently thinking the exact same thing as a hand creeps over the curve of your bum, watching as you squirm for attention.

"What'd'you think sweetheart? We each take a turn and you try to tell us who's bigger? And if you guess the right brother we'll let's you cum."

It feels like you're burning from the inside out, from Fred's words alone never mind the hand that was caressing your skin, across your back and over your bum.

"Please, please," you beg quietly, pleads muffled as your face presses into the pillow.

You hear a deep chuckle and you can't help but try and close your legs at the noise, desperate for some friction.

When the first twin lines themselves up with your waiting hole, you hold your breath in anticipation, too overwhelmed with the need to be filled. The first thrust has you gasping into the pillow, the semi-forceful but still delicate thrust making it impossible for you to think of anything other than the cock inside you.

"Any clues?" One of them says behind you but you can't determine who. There's no hands on you, no nicknames or whispered praises, only the feel of their rigid cock grazing your inner walls. You let out a sigh of disappointment as you felt them remove themselves from you after only that initial thrust but then gasped when you felt another cock lining up with you and this time pushing in with less hesitation.

You cried out into the pillow as they pushed in, filling you completely and holding themselves deep inside you, keeping their hips flushed with yours. Was it the other twin, a different cock? Or was it the same?

Another cry filled the air as you felt them pull out and be replaced by the other, this time you knew for definite as you felt the bed shift as someone else took their place.

Over and over you felt them thrust into you, one at a time and taking turns, feeling every inch of their perfect cocks without any resolution to the burning desire you were feeling. It was pure torture, having them right where you needed them but only for one single thrust, absolutely not what you needed from them.

"Any takers?" One of them says as they thrust into you harshly, making a gasp emit from your throat. "Who am I baby? You know my cock?"

"Or mine?" The second one says, thrusting deep as soon as his twin had retreated.

For the first time you can feel a slight hint at who it was, the second that their place a hesitant hand to your hip before quickly pulling away. Your eyes are closed as you reach a slight subspace, too consumed by the feel of them to allow any of your other senses to work properly. It's George, it had to be. The delicious curve of his cock drags across your upper walls as he sinks in to you, the ghost of a hand on your hip being the dead giveaway. George held your hip whereas Fred would have grabbed and left bruises. George liked to drag out every thrust, forcing you to feel him slowly filling you whereas Fred was often rougher, quicker in pace. George's curve served him well, pressed against that delicious spot inside of you that made you see stars whereas Fred's girth seemed to make you breathless even without needing to be in more than just his tip. But who was bigger?

"George!" You cried out, taking the chance and as soon as you called out his name, his hands fell to your hips and he began thrusting wildly into you, not pulling out or stopping as they had for what seemed like hours. You'd been right.

"But who's bigger?" He says, pulling you back just enough so that you're face is no longer pushed into the pillow.

"I- I don't know," you say weakly as you try and canter your hips to get him to fuck you again.

You cry out in frustration as George suddenly pulls out, leaving you empty and increasingly annoyed at the game they were playing .

Suddenly, Fred's whole length is shoved inside you without warning, his big hands coming to grab at your hips as he fucks deep, holding you tightly in place. You automatically squirm to alleviate the pressure from deep inside you but his grip is so strong you can hardly move.

“Still don’t know, pretty girl?” You can hear the smirk in his voice even over the sound of your deep breaths, trying to steady yourself against the feeling of him so deep, so far up you’re certain he’s in your guts.

“Freddie!” You cry out, trying to get him to fuck you, “you said I could cum, I guessed right!”

“Yeah we did,” both of them say at the same time, making your walls clench around Fred’s length.

“Who’s bigger sweetheart?”

You don’t want to say, don’t want to upset either of them even though you know it’s Fred. It’s only maybe an inch, if that, and you’re sure the wider girth of his cock is making him seem even bigger but you couldn’t say, not out loud.

“You’re both-.”

You can’t even finish your sentence as he suddenly starts pounding you, taking what he wants from your little dripping hole. You cry out, head thrown back at the feeling and you feel yourself building up to an almighty climax after almost no time at all, so wound up from their torturous teasing.

“Cum sweetheart, let me feel you,” Fred says between ragged breaths as his grip doubles down on your hips. It’s rare that you can cum so effortlessly without any clit stimulation but between their game, your vulnerable and exposed position and the extended teasing, you were feeling ready to cut almost immediately.

“Freddie!Fred!” You chat as you feel yourself falling over the edge, earning a generous and ridiculously sexy moan from Fred as he feels your walls tightening around him. He cums not a second later after you ride out your peak, your fingers digging into the soft bedsheets below you, pillows smushed into your face. His cum feels blazing hot as it fills you, his roar echoing through the room as he releases everything he has deep inside you, once again keeping you as far down on his cock as you can go.

“Wanna feel who cums more?” You hear from beside you, a hand stroking over your spine as you turn your head weakly to look at George who’s smirking at you, cock still hard.

You nod pathetically into the soft pillow, letting out a whine as you feel Fred pull out of you.

“Roll over Angel, want to see your beautiful face.”

He helps you shift, knees locking from being in the same position for so long. Your hair fans out against the pillows as you look up with half-lidded and tired eyes at George who climbs on top of you, smirking and with wandering eyes. He leans down and kisses over your breasts, your nipples hardening under his tongue. You cry out when his hand makes contact with your swollen and neglected clit, circling it just how he knows you like.

“You ready for me Angel?”

“Yes Georgie,” You say, eyebrows knitted together as you focus on the pleasure from his fingers, never wanting him to stop.

He pulls away only to line his cock up with your pussy as you feel him slowly sink it, drawing out that first thrust until he begins wildly thrusting into you, pulling your leg up onto his shoulder. His left hand holds your leg whilst his right hand sinks down to play with your clit again making almost inhuman noises fall from your lips. In this position he always seems to get exactly the right angle to drive you crazy, to hit all the spots that he knew Fred couldn’t.

“Not gonna last Angel, want you to cum with me.”

He begins circling just a little faster around your sensitive nub and your hips begin to buck wildly against his only thrusts, making him fuck you harder, deeper.

“Fuck!” He cries out as his hips stutter, his cup already shooting deep into you. You didn’t think you could be any fuller than you felt already but as he pours his load deep into you, fucking it deeper and deeper, you feel like you’ll explode. And you do. Your orgasm hits you like a steam train, walls wildly clenching and squeezing on their own accord as the overwhelming amount of cum trickles out of you even around George’s softening cock.

When he finally pulls out of you, he sits back on his haunches trying to catch his breath as you do the same, only lying down spread out on the bed, completely unfazed by your nudity.

Fred hops back on the bed beside you and immediately pulls you into his arms, not having bothered to re-dress during your time with George.

You’re completely sober now, at least in terms of alcohol- you feel completely cock drunk.

“What’s the verdict sweetheart?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows and you look up at him in disbelief. Even George shoots his twin a look of disbelief as he tries to catch his breath.

“Don’t know, you’ll have to try again tomorrow.”

“Best 2 out of 3?”

“Yeah.”

[emeritusemeritus]

where r u queen 💔💔💔

Hi love! I’m sorry I haven’t posted this week, I’ve actually been in the hospital following my doctor appointment last week. I’m feeling better in myself mostly but I really haven’t had the time or the inspiration to write on top of caring for ToddlerEmeritus and healing but hopefully I will soon 🖤

[emeritusemeritus]

you are very strong!!! Thanks for sharing I try to hear from women and their experiences with endo because it's definitely not spoken about as much as it should. Wishing you the best + sending u love🫂🫂

Thank you very much love, hope you have a great day🖤

[emeritusemeritus]

omg u have endo!!!!!??? Omg I have sm respect for women who have to deal w it. I have intense pains without a diagnosis so I couldn’t IMAGINE what u guys go through 💔💔💔☹️

Hey anon! I do, one of the lucky ones I guess 😂 thank you so much for your message it’s so kind of you to reach out 🖤 Usually I can handle it but this flare up has really taken it out of me. So far I’ve had multiple complex cysts, one emergency operation, one ovary removed and now back to square one trying to get the surgery to remove the endo patches but it’s a battle. Makes me so thankful that James has spoken out for the cause as his wife who also suffers with endo (and it made me love him more).

I’m hoping for a good result with the doctor tomorrow.

Sending love to you 🖤

[emeritusemeritus]

Sorry to anybody waiting on old requests,

I’m currently having the worst Endo flare up and have spent most of the weekend curled up in bed unable to write more than a few lines. I’ll post as soon as I can, for now I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself and imagining Fred helping me through the pain.

[emeritusemeritus]

Hello I like your work, can I request the Reader and George at they wedding day at the end of the day they will make a hard sex please

Your work is amazing ❤

Hi love! Thank you so much, it has been a pleasure to write this! I hope you don’t mind but I changed it up just a little as I’ve recently written two other George wedding day fics but I tried to keep to your request as much as possible. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: SMUT. Graphic sex, PinV sex, slight oral. Lots of wedding mentions, George has a bride kink? Quickies.

Word count: 2.2k

Rain Clouds

According to superstition, rain on your wedding day was actually good luck, a clear sign of a long lasting marriage- after all, a wet knot was much harder to unravel.

It created a beautiful backdrop to your wedding, a soothing ambience that seemed just as cozy and comforting as the man you were marrying and at no point did it put a dampener on the day. After all the more important aspects of the wedding, the vows and the cake, the first dance and all the traditions you had been expected to follow, you'd been led by the hand at the end of the night by your new husband to dance wildly in the rain. There were many moments of your life that were happy, most if not all of them involving George, but you were certain that this one would take the cake. Ecstatic didn't even cover your elation in that moment, dancing freely with your new husband, the heat radiating from his body keeping you warm as the rain fell upon you. You were soaked to the skin, your wedding dress getting heavier by the second but you didn't care, too consumed by the moment that you knew you'd remember forever. George's laughter was contagious, the pair of you spinning and laughing, not a care in the world except for the other person beneath your fingers. Your hair was ruined and no doubt your makeup was beginning to smear down your face but like everything else it was inconsequential.

"I love you Mrs Weasley," George beams, pulling you close and wrapping his large hands around your waist, pulling your body tightly into his, fitting perfectly as it always did.

"I love you more Mr Weasley," you beamed up at him, finding humour in his dripping red locks that had fallen flat on his forehead.

"I can't believe you're my wife," he says, reaching for your hand to begin slow dancing as the rain tapered off. "I'm the luckiest man in the world."

You pull him into a fiery kiss, knowing that you'd never be able reciprocate in words nor verbalise how you truly felt about him, especially in that moment. The kiss is loaded, full of fiery passion that had been threatening to overflow since the second you laid eyes on him walking down the aisle. Thought his suit was not officially drenched, it still looked just as good as it did hours ago when you'd stood by his side, hand in hand, and declared your love for each other. The kiss is hot and loaded, both of you so wound up from the day that you’re not sure how you’re going to make it through the rest of the night without having him. George apparently has very similar feelings and not a minute later his hands tighten on your waist as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“Follow me,” he says suddenly, his voice barely more than a whispered growl. You don’t question him, following him blindly as he leads you away from the party by the hand to sneak into the venue around the back. He pauses just a moment as his eyes search for something, pulling you quickly beside him as he spots something up ahead. Suddenly, you are thrust into a large storeroom that leads on from the annex of the venue, with George closing the door behind you.

His lips are on you in seconds, as soon as he casts a few spells in quick succession, the door locking behind you and a silencing charm for good measure.

His hands wrap around you, fingers wandering and one hand wrapped around your jaw as he pressed your body against the door.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he pants against your lips. “I need you.”

“Please George,” you whimper, unable to bear the fiery desire any longer without any resolution. Your words are all he needs and he’s suddenly scrambling for the bottom of your dress. You were eternally thankful in that moment that you’d not chosen a bigger, puffier dress as you watched George slide the silken dress up your legs until it was hunched well above your thighs.

His breath catches when he spots your underwear, the flimsy little white lace panties not containing an ounce of the wetness for him. He presses a kiss to your partially concealed pussy and you gasp at the sensation, praying that he wouldn’t tease you now. His hands come up to grab the lace panties and he forcefully rips them off your body, not thinking of consequences or anything that would follow, too focused on the desire.

He stands quickly, pulling you into a scorching kiss once more as your hands attack his belt, trying to free the obvious bulge in his trousers, hands blindly scrambling but after years of practice it’s like second nature to you.

His hard cock is freed in mere seconds and you delight in the loud groan that falls from his lips when you begin stroking him, feeling the heavy weight of his swollen member in your hand. He’s over the teasing in moments and reaches up with his large hands to grab you, hoisting you up slightly until your legs wrap around his waist. You let out a whine of desperation as you feel your aching core meet George’s thick length, knowing how close you were to absolution.

He shuffles, securing your weight in his arms as he reaches down to grab hold of his cock, pausing only briefly to press another steaming kiss to your lips as he slowly pushes into your heat. You erupt together in sinful moans as you feel him push deeper and deeper into you, giving you only a few seconds to adjust to his impressive thickness before he finds a bruising rhythm. It’s primitive and sinful, the movement of him hips and the sounds that fall from your lips as he finds the spot that makes you see stars. Your thoughts drift to the tears seeing him on the quidditch pitch, thinking of how he would have been an incredible chaser with how precise his aim is, each thrust hitting that delicious spot with so much perfect precision that your clawing at his shoulders through the jacket in blistering pleasure.

In the back of your mind you’re aware that the door you’re leaning against is banging with every powerful thrust of his hips but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, too consumed by George and his perfect cock.

“Fuck,” he moans, holding you tighter as his thrusts build to a quicker and harder pace, your cunt clenching around him uncontrollably.

“My perfect wife,” he moans out, capturing your lips in another kiss that has you keening on him, your hips rocking on their own, trying to keep him deep where you need him.

“Georgie!” You cry out, hands running through his hair as you feel your climax building. You can almost feel your wetness seeping out from around George’s cock, feeling more aroused than you ever had been before.

“Cum for me my perfect little wife,” he commands. You dutifully comply, your body submitting to him completely as a blistering orgasm consumes you. You scramble to reach out for him in any way you can, fingers clawing at his hair and the collar of his jacket, feeling as if you could drift away at any point. You cry out, chanting his name over and over again as he continues to pound into you, following you into bliss only seconds later.

You look at each other as you both come down from your highs, breathless, panting and equally as flushes. You both let out secretive chuckles at the sudden escalation of the situation, hardly believing that you’d both just done that. He lets you down slowly but not before kissing you again, this time less passionately and more lovingly.

“Shit,” you say, finally realising the extent of George’s hurried attempts to rid you of your panties, finding them completely ripped on the floor beside you.

“Hmm?” George asks, not realising what you were looking at until his spots his little error on the floor. “Sorry Mrs Weasley, I can fix that.”

He begins to pull out his wand but you stop him, a sudden deviousness taking over you.

“Leave them,” you smirk, watching as George’s eyes widen a little, the dominance in his stature having disappeared. “I want to spend the rest of our wedding with my husband’s cum dripping out of me.”

He growls, pulling you in to his chest at the wickedness of your words, his naughty little wife.

“And for you to be reminded that for the rest of the night, I won’t be wearing any panties.”

It takes a little encouragement to drag George back to the wedding party, your words already tempting him to round two but you manage to convince him eventually with a bit of bribery. You fixed your hair and attempted to fix your now very creased dress but it was futile; you only hoped that no one saw you sneaking away.

Whether by good fortune or incredible coincidence, only half an hour later after slipping back in unnoticed did you heard Fred bellowing out to you both, declaring that guests were beginning to leave. After the many goodbyes and well wishes, you found yourselves almost completely alone, ready to quietly slip away to the little cottage on the grounds that you'd rented for the night, the desire building once again at an alarming rate.

The rain had begun once again to fall quickly from the sky, the droplets now only visible through the shine of the overhead lights and the magically twinkling lights Fred had enchanted as the sun began setting.

"Want me to get the car?" George asks, sneaking in behind you and bending down, resting his chin on the top of your head. You look up at the falling rain and decide no, you wanted the freedom you'd tasted earlier, wanted to extend the happiness of the rain fall.

"I say we make a run for it," you say with a smirk, knowing that any chance for mischief would always attract George's attention.

"Want me to carry you mrs Weasley?" Your eyes close hearing his smooth voice utter your new title, the belonging and possessiveness of his words making a fire ignite within you.

"Only if I fall on my arse," you laugh, considering the shoes you were still wearing. You can both hear and feel him chuckle at your words, his body pressed to tightly against your backside that you can feel his every movement.

You both burst through the little wooden cottage door in a fit of exuberant laughter, both of you soaked to the skin but largely uncaring. George is on you within moments, pushing you against the nearest wall as his lips attack yours in a blistering kiss. It takes your breath away as he looms over you, dominating you completely, his right hand grabbing your waist and his left tangling within your hair, long fingers pressed against your jaw. It's filthy and raw with emotion, your knees weakening at the sheer force of his passion.

"Mrs Weasley," he coos, growling into your ear as he pulls your body flush with his. "I should probably get you out of this wet dress, don't want you catching a cold so we?" You can hear the smirk on his face through his voice. "Seems a shame though, you look so beautiful in it."

"Wait til you see what's left of your gift underneath," you tease, watching as his eyes widen slightly at the thought. Clearly he had temporarily forgotten about your lack of panties from earlier.

You squeal involuntarily as he sudden lurches for you, grabbing you under the bum and lifting you until you were draped over his shoulder in the most inelegant way, leading you straight to the bedroom.

"George!"

He slaps your bum with a quick thwack as you attempt to pry yourself away but quickly give in, knowing he's too strong to overpower. His dark chuckle echoes throughout the empty cottage as you wiggle and squirm in his arms; as pointless as it was.

As soon as you enter the bedroom, he slides you down his body and holds you to his chest, kissing you fiercely, all hint of his playfulness gone. He walks you over to the bed, lips not leaving yours for a second as he guides you backwards until you both collapse onto the bed, George's strong arms catching himself to stop him tumbling onto you. His lips are fierce and unrelenting against yours and he somehow manages to pull himself up enough to remove his suit jacket in the midst of kissing.

“I want to make another vow to you my Angel,” he mumbles between kisses. You pause, not knowing how to reply as you open your eyes to look at him, seeing a dangerous smirk forming on his face.

“I vow to fuck you in every room of this cottage by the end of our stay.”

Your core clenches around nothing from his voice alone, the deep growl and the hard look in his eyes that tells you everything you need to know on how the night would go.

“But George, we’re only staying here two nights,” you counter with a smirk of your own, thinking he’d forgotten that little detail. He doesn’t reply, at least not with words. Instead he fixes you with a hard look, his smirk increasing and you realise quickly that he knew, that his vow was to fuck you in every room of the cottage during the two nights you had here, starting now.

[emeritusemeritus]

i just read every single one of your AO3 fics this week and i'm losing my mind. my friends are sick of me. my husband is sick of me. i am regressing to how i was in 2006 the first time i ever looked up "weasley twin x reader" fanfic. but i have never felt freer LMAOOOOO

Hi love! Wow that is a very impressive feat, thank you so much! And a reminder that I need to keep posting on AO3. I’m so glad you found me, the Weasley love is not stopping and I’m always here to talk shout out beloved twins! 🖤

Do you have a favourite twin? Any favourite scenes?

[emeritusemeritus]

Just wanted to say I LOVE your fics!!! I’m completely enough seriously it’s amazing, it’s so so good. I’ve been obsessed with the twins and you have been a saving grace 🤍 Anyways that’s all I wanted to say!!

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for your lovely words, that is so wonderful to hear! I cannot thank you enough for reading, I truly appreciate it every single person who reads my fics. Weasley Twins forever 🖤

[emeritusemeritus]

Granger's sister dating the Weasley twins! Imagine the golden trio's reaction—simply a dream!

Hi Anon! It's so funny that you sent this message because this exact scenario came into my head the other day at work and I couldn't resist writing this little drabble! 🖤

I’m sorry it’s quite specific but it was just the scenario that popped into my head. Hermione’s sister (Reader) is an actual badass and I love it.

TW for smoking and flirting/banter.

Bad habits

{Imagine the golden trio are visiting London whilst staying with Hermione's parents at the start of summer (Molly and Arthur are visiting Charlie). They visit her older Muggle sister at work in muggle London and against Ron's better judgement, Fred and George come along for the visit as their 'chaperones'.}

The trio are well acquainted with Hermione's sister (y/n) who is everyone's older sister figure, merciless teasing of Ron included. She works in a retail stockroom, just living a regular muggle life.

Their first meeting:

"Y/n!" Ron calls out into the vast stockroom, searching for her amongst the metal racking and efficiently stacked cardboard boxes, a vague rustling their only clue that she was in here.

"Y/n!" He calls louder, more insistent this time to get her attention.

"Have some patience Ronald!" She calls back, already sounding exasperated.

"I like her already," Fred says with a smirk upon hearing her tone with his youngest brother, delighting in the way that Ron's cheeks turned a rather fetching shade of pink.

"Yeah something tells me you will," Harry murmurs with a half-smirk, not sparing a glance at the twins who looked intrigued by his comment. Footsteps are heard moving towards them but the person is still not in view.

“Eh?” George asks looking towards Harry, who’s actively avoiding the twins eyes, his subtle smirk tugging at the side of his lips.

“What do you mean?” Fred asks, before turning to George. “What does he mean?”

“Y/n!” Ron calls out again when the footsteps stop, though not as loud as before.

“Untwist your knickers Ronald, I'm here.”

She laughs as everyone jumps from surprise as she intentionally appears just behind them, having weaved through the racking.

“Oh,” she says as her eyes land upon the two much taller and older guests, instantly looking slightly startled before covering it quickly. “Sorry, I didn't realise there were others.”

Her smile is breathtaking, literally winding Fred as it lands upon him. There’s no way this was Hermione’s sister, her teeth showing absolutely no correlation to Hermione’s and her hair was tame if not perfect, atleast in Fred’s eyes.

“It's, I’m, it's okay.” Fred stammers, hardly able to get the words out. The entire party look towards Fred with quizzical glances that he of all people had been rendered speechless, choking on his own words. Ron in particular stares at him with a look of astonishment, his mouth almost hanging open at Fred’s slight blush. George shifts in place and purposefully and fluidly stands on Ron’s foot to silently threaten him to stop staring.

“We're Ron's older brothers,” George says, carefully choosing the right words, his mind having to run at twice the speed just to get any words out whilst her attention was on him.

“Brothers, really? Wow,” she says with a brief look of bewilderment herself and a slight sarcastic undertone. “I'm *, Hermione's sister.”

“Yeah they figured,” Ron snarks.

“You're really his brothers? Wow genetics are wild,” she says with a disbelieving shake of her head as she looks between an annoyed Ron and the gorgeous identical twins in front of her, noting the differences between the three. The two older boys blush slightly from her praise whilst laughing, Fred’s cheeky smirk appearing on his face once again.

“Y/n!” Hermione curses her name, clearly embarrassed by her shameless flirting, which she simply shrugs at.

She gets back to work whilst they chat, sorting and unpacking some of the boxes around the front, the trio telling them about their day in muggle London.

“Can you stop for a minute?” Hermione says with a tone of exasperation, crossing her arms over her chest whilst she watches her sister zooming about.

“Sorry but some of us weren't born with powers and actually have to work for a living,” she says sarcastically, jumping down from the stool she’d been using.

“Powers? Like a superhero?” Fred asks, his eyes twinkling with mischief and his smirk stretching across his face at her choice of words.

“You tell me,” she replies smoothly.

Hermione simply rolls her eyes this time, trying to ignore their shameless flirting.

As she walks past George, she sends him a playful wink that nearly brings him to his knees, the blush on his cheeks renewed to an obvious rouge.

She stops by the desk where her bag lays, stopping and reaching for a cigarette that she pulls out from a near empty carton.

“You're still smoking? Honestly y/n,” Hermione chastises, her arms still folded as she shoots a judgemental look at her older sister, completely interrupting Ron mid-sentence.

“What are you gonna do? Magic it out of my hand?” She snarks, placing the unlit cigarette to her lips until it’s hanging just out the side of her mouth, looking entirely too cool in the moment as she shoots one last wink to the twins who are focused on her every move and steps out of the door.

“I think I’m in love,” Fred says in a daze, his eyes still focused on the door that she’d left through.

“Oh honestly,” Hermione told her eyes.

“I think she’s my perfect woman,” George says, sounding equally as enchanted.

Harry simply laughs, having anticipated this situation happening, though it’s better than he could have ever imagined seeing the twins look so utterly flustered.

Them finding out:

“Mum we’re here! Wait y/n, what are you doing here?” Ron says with sheer surprise at seeing Hermione’s sister sitting at the kitchen table in his childhood home.

“Your mum’s adopted me,” she says in complete deadpan, “she’s just nipped out to get the ginger hair dye.”

“Hilarious,” Ron grumbles with a dramatic roll of his eyes, though there’s a hint of a smile tugging at his lips which tells her that he was far from offended.

“Y/n!” Hermione says with a bright smile as she spots her sister, her arms opening instinctively.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Harry says, stepping in through the Dutch style door last, his eyebrows shooting up and disappearing underneath his shaggy fringe as he spots her.

“If you’re going to be a collective, you really need to start planning who’s saying what, it’s mindless asking the same question three times,” she smirks, slowly pulling away from her sister.

“Yeah” Fred says, appearing around the corner.

“Like us,” George adds with a smile.

“See,” y/n says, her hand gesturing to the pair moving towards them. “Much more efficient.”

“Efficient is my middle name,” Fred smirks, moving to stand beside her, flanked by George on the other side.

“Alright, Gideon,” she smirks, laughing as he slips his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his side.

“Wait,” Ron says, looking between them comically.

“You’re together, you two?” Hermione adds, her eyes fixed on Fred’s arm around her sister’s shoulder.

“No!” She replies quickly, sounding horrified. She then reaches for George who slips his arms around her waist until she’s nestled between them both, eliciting a shocked gasp from Hermione.

“Us three,” her sister corrects with a smile and a slight crook of her eyebrow, watching the way her sister’s face pales slightly. Harry, beside a very shocked Ron and Hermione shows no sign of surprise, smirking so hard his glasses are touching his cheeks.

“You wanted me to stop smoking,” she says with a shrug, “got to keep some bad habits.”

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi! Me again! Sorry,I just can't get enough of your writing,it brings me such pleasure to read every masterpiece. Word by word,but today my request is a little.... Different "angst x spice"

It's Weasley twins x reader still the vulnera era of course! You and the twins got into a arguement,reason? The twin boys you have! Fin and Griff,so much like their father,also got letters sent by owls from school! And Fred and George couldn't be more.. prouder! Their mini versions,just took everything after them,looks to personality. But you? You were scared and nervous about their future,and their well being of staying in Hogwarts,not wanting non of your children to be expelled (especially your like father's like son's trouble makers) you decided to talk to George and Fred about the situation,the two not taking it seriously,saying that they'll be fine since me and my twin end up good! They'll do to!

But,you as you are,you got irritated and annoyed with them,causing the whole "arguement thing. Which lead to you stressing out,and sleeping with Henry in his bed,saying "mommy just need time away from daddies,go to sleep" as little heny with his "snitching" (his siblings rellay on him to send info at home,so they know if their family is safe) History. Wrote another letter to his siblings, tomorrow is their summer break,so they'll be coming home.

The day they came home,they notice the tension between their three parents,the kids try to make you three up. But of course,as their "excellent and stubborn hard headed mother" we beautifully are🤭 we don't apologize or get close to them,just giving a peck on the cheek as goodbye,handing them their plate of food,or sleeping with Henry in his room. You were stress out,not really healthy for the soon popping baby out,the twins notice and of course. As they're beloved wife and mother of children,they started to try make up with you,but you wouldn't even look at them. No matter how many flowers,kisses,hugs,teasing or flirting to get you to make love to them again. You just wouldn't budge

That's the story, continue how ever you like🤣 (can't think of anything,but make sure it ends with spice. Because... I don't know,I just crave angst x spice for today😔)

BUT ANYWAYS,I LOVE YOU! AND YOUR WRITING. YOUR A NATURAL BORN ARTIST,LOVE IT!!!! ❤️

Hi love! So good to hear from you, I’m so sorry this took so long! I have to confess that I had to emit the smut at the end and just add a hint as I’d already gotten carried away with the angst and couldn’t find a natural way of adding it in. I hope you enjoy! 🖤

vulnera laedere {F+G}

Warnings: Pregnancy, pregnancy hormones (they’re a warning all in themselves). ANGST. Arguments, marital arguments. Choice language. Snooping kids. Fred’s kind of a dick. Angry Fred, peacekeeper George. Reader is kind of out of line but meh, she’s pregnant.

Word count: 5k

This is soft canon to my Vulnera Sanentur series (link included) but can be read alone.

Fred and George must have known something was wrong the moment they stepped through the front door. The usually warm and lively house, though admittedly much quieter since three of your children had begun Hogwarts, was ominously quiet upon their return.

It was the last day before the start of the summer holidays and the shop had been quiet as expected whilst parents all over the U.K. prepared to have their kids back over the summer. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes would be booming over the next couple of weeks, always one of the busiest times for them once the kids had broken up for school and your husbands had prepared accordingly. Long hours spent creating and ordering, sorting summer sales and limited edition items like each summer before whilst they also tried to embrace the quiet and allow themselves to rest before the business picked up.

So when both men stepped through the door at a rather reasonable 5:37pm and the house was quiet, it was immediately obvious that something was wrong. Being in your eight month of pregnancy, immediately their minds flashed to you and the baby. Was something wrong, had they missed an important owl? Where was their youngest son Henry? Worry began to set in as they made their way through the silent house seeking you out. Relief filled them both simultaneously when they spotted you in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the chocolate cake you'd baked for the kids return tomorrow. Given the last time they had returned home at Christmas and the following debacle, you were slightly nervous and hoping for a much better reunion this time.

You'd greeted them as enthusiastically as usual, each receiving a sweet kiss from you as they shed their blazers and loosened their ties, asking about your day and your son. He was in the garden practicing his quidditch apparently, on the little toy broom that had been passed down through all of your children.

You seemed normal but the little frown settled between your eyebrows seemed to be a sign that not all was well.

"Owlbert dropped off the post earlier today," you say, referring the family owl your kids had named, glad to be done with the cake and hopeful for a decent rest now. You almost wished you'd taken up Molly's offer to have Henry overnight for you when she'd seen your swollen ankles.

"He wasn't alone, a Hogwarts owl came 20 minutes later."

You simply handed them the letters, checked on Henry out the window and took a seat at the table, with George helping you into it sweetly as Fred took control of reading the letter first.

"This is... awful," Fred says gravely, the sinking feeling in your gut only increasing as you share the letter from Mcgonagall with them.

"I know," you say quietly.

"Getting caught? Don't they know any better?"

"What?" You say in shock, looking to George for some support.

"That passageway is tricky, we almost got caught there once remember, better to take the one eyed witch." Apparently George would not been supporting you either here.

"Am I hearing this right? You're mad not because they were sneaking into Hogsmeade after curfew but because they got caught?!"

You can feel your blood pressure rising and fight to stay calm, placing your palms on the cold kitchen table to ground you.

"Oh come on, they're third years, what's a bit of mischief. Can't be boring, they're Weasleys!"

You deadpan at Fred, hardly believing the words falling from his mouth. As if it wasn't enough that the boys were near clones of their fathers both in looks and attitudes now they had also inherited their fathers' mischievous natures. Seeing the men so proud of their sons actions gave you a flashback to the many times that you'd been sat at the table in the Burrow having breakfast when Arthur would come in and encourage his children's achievements before Molly would intercept and prompt Arthur to tell them off, though his face and his words were never truly sincere.

"How can you not be worried? Anything could have happened!"

"But it didn't," George says calmly, sensing your mounting distress. "Maybe it was just the once."

"They're your children, of course it wasn't just once."

"Your point, Angel?"

George squints as if trying to provoke you, a dangerous smirk appearing on his face knowing that he's goading you into saying something you could be 'punished' for later.

"Filch had an entire drawer of just your record and contraband remember?"

"If I remember correctly Angel, and I admit it's been a few years, your own record wasn't exactly squeaky clean naughty girl," George replies, the tension between you steadily building.

"Ah but what you seem to have forgotten my love is that both of your names were usually on the same report," you retort.

"Meaning?" Fred interjects, his eyebrow raised.

"You are the trouble makers, I just got carried along with you!"

"Says the woman who went on the run, got attacked and possessed by a Horcrux slash snake and risked her life multiple times for the entire wizarding population to fight the worst dark wizard of all time."

"And your point?" You reply, acting nonchalant about the whole thing. The twins snort a laugh at your stubbornness and though you want to be jovial and joke with them, you just can't bring yourself to see anything positive here.

It's like a weight on your chest and a dark cloud over your thoughts. What if Griff and Finn were going to waste their school years getting in trouble and not doing the best they could do? What kind of future would they have.

"Penny for your thoughts," Fred says, taking a seat beside you at the table after peering out the window to check on Henry. You realise that you'd been quiet for a few minutes, stuck in your own head.

"I'm just worried about the boys," you sigh. "We've never had this with Rory, she's always been a good kid and a good student."

"They boys aren't bad kids," Fred replies, a little too quickly. It doesn't take a genius to realise the comparisons between the sons and their fathers and how drawing comparisons, particularly negative, would offend your husband.

Fred stands, the chair scraping on the floor as he walks towards the opposite wall where he leans.

"I know," you say with a huff, feeling frustrated at your lack of being able to speak openly without Fred suddenly jumping down your throat. "I just want the best for them."

"And we don't?" You can feel the heat in Fred's tone, suddenly much more sharp and confrontational.

"Fred," George admonishes.

Fred's tone causes something to rise up in you, a sudden wave of anger and frustration. Your hormones were probably to blame in part but you couldn't help yourself, wanting to match his harsh tone.

"Did you finish school?" You say, suddenly hard faced and much more confrontational than before, matching his energy.

"Did we need to?" He snaps, dismissive of you and your concerns.

"And if the business didn't work out? You barely scraped a few owls together. 3 each wasn't it?"

In the back of your mind you feel bad for dragging George into this but it was unavoidable.

"Not much point dealing with what if's," Fred shrugs.

"So we should just close our eyes and leave it up to fate whether our kids have a future or not?"

"Someone needs to carry on the business when we're old or gone, maybe Griff and Finn..."

You see red. You're not sure exactly why; perhaps it was Fred's words, maybe his tone or even the way his arms are crossed over his chest in the ultimate 'closed off' position. 

"That's all you want for your sons?"

"Definite 'all you want', because I know you're not making it sound like your husbands' business is nothing," Fred says darkly, stepping forwards slightly.

"Oh Stop being a prick," George says towards Fred, trying to keep the peace.

"No let's hear it, because from where I'm stood I see your husbands working night and day to provide for this family," Fred says dangerously darkly.

"And I contribute what? A womb?"

Silence.

Fred's suddenly looking slightly sheepish, seeing a definitive line in the sand that he knows he can't cross even though he wants to get the last word, knowing it would be crossing the line ever for him.

"You know she doesn't mean the shop mate stop being so pig headed," George says, diverting the conversation away from the topic none of you are willing to touch.

"Your own wife just called you thick mate, if you can't see what she's implying then maybe she's right," Fred says angrily, now directing his anger towards his brother.

"'She' is standing right here!" You snap, furious that he can't even use your name.

"Fred back off," George warns, opting to take the brunt of Fred's anger if it means it would be off you.

"No you back off," he snaps back at George. "Okay, wife, since you're so concerned about your sons turning into us, tell us how our sons won't achieve what we have? Because I see two men who came from nothing now running a successful business, a house, a family and what I thought was a happy marriage."

You ignore the marriage comment, though you're repressing everything you can to not snap at that. You see George moving forwards but you hold out your hand to him, silently gesturing for him to leave it.

"And if Harry hadn't given you the money?" You say darkly, knowing that it would have taken them much, much longer to get their shop if Harry hadn't given them his Triwizard winnings. The money had long since been paid back with additional interest but it was still invaluable.

"We'd have made it."

"Oh yeah because gambling with Ludo Bagman was your best bet and look how that ended up, leprechaun gold doesn't buy a shop!"

"So now we're poor and thick at two short planks?" He shouts. "Lovely to know that's how our wife sees us and our kids!"

"I didn't say that, stop putting words into my mouth! And don't you dare accuse me of saying that about my boys!"

Your anger is uncontrollable at this point, your finger pointing accusingly as you match his energy. You wish you weren't so heavily pregnant right now, wanting nothing more than to March out.

"No you know what, you're not gonna like anything I have to say do what's the point."

"Fred."

He marches out, the front door slamming behind him as he leaves, the room falling silent in his wake. You bid yourself not to cry and you can't even look at George, too afraid to see the emotion on his face.

"Will you order a pizza for dinner please, I'm going in the bath," you say quietly, trying to hold the pieces of yourself together as you peel yourself out of the chair with great difficulty. It takes every ounce of your strength to keep calm and controlled, knowing George had done nothing wrong and you couldn't stand your heart breaking any further if you'd snapped at him too.

You walk away feeling defeated, dragging yourself upstairs.

Fred, back in his office where he's retreated to after the argument, sits with the admin books open in front of him but there's no thought of accounts in his mind. The shame he feels is immense, how could he talk to his wife that way? His pregnant wife no less.

He's disgusted by himself, knowing now upon reflection that he allowed his own insecurities to twist her words, that she was never criticising him at all though he'd made it all about him.

He realises that it brought back memories of his mother, his parents, always celebrating the successes of his siblings whilst he and George went larger unnoticed unless they were causing mischief. Any attention was attention after all, good or bad. His mother had hated the idea of their business, had burned order forms and forced them to stop multiple times. They'd never made prefects or head-boys, something that had been blatantly clear to upset his mother. He couldn't bear to think that his own wife would see him that way.

She'd always been their biggest supporter, how could he ever have denied that? The first in line to help them promote their business, to be a sound board for new ideas and usually the Guinea pig to said ideas. She'd been the loudest cheerer at every Quidditch game, wearing alternating jumpers that proudly displayed their initials in Gryffindor colours so everyone would know she was their's. How could he have even thought otherwise?

When Fred returns home with his tail between his legs, he sees George and Henry at the table sharing a pizza.

"Where's your mummy?" He asks Henry, placing a kiss upon his wild red hair.

"Bath," he replies, picking a slice of pepperoni off his pizza before biting into it. Fred frowns slightly at his son's clipped answer but says nothing, choosing to take a seat at the table and grab a slice for himself. He can feel George's burning gaze upon him, non-verbally communicating his obvious displeasure.

"Leave it," Fred says without ever looking up. It's tense for a few moments before Fred pipes up again, trying to break through the obvious tension.

"Are you excited for your siblings to be home tomorrow? The official start of summer," he asks Henry, forcing himself to soften and act happy as he talks to his youngest.

"Definitely," Henry replies with determination, still not giving him much in the way of a reply. He then turns to George, offering his pizza crust to his other dad. "Can I go to bed Daddy? I want to say night to Mummy."

"Sure bud," George says softly, slightly confused at his words knowing that his son was practically nocturnal, "don't forget to do your teeth."

Henry hops off the chair and runs out the room, only to reappear moments later to grab his toy Niffler 'Sniffy' who he'd left on the next chair. He looks at George and tells him goodnight before looking at Fred and mumbling a brief 'night' before running off again.

The two men remain silent for a few moments now they are alone, the tense atmosphere returning. They can hear Henry barge into the bathroom and a few giggles from him and mummy upstairs, the distant sound of their voices upstairs seeming to give them pause for a few moments as they listen to their loved ones.

"Go on then," Fred says suddenly in a blunt tone, breaking the silence. "Give me the lecture."

"I'm your twin not your conscience," George states definitively, standing up from the table and grabbing his and Henry's plates, clearing away the table. He's exhausted and doesn't want to deal with this. He wants to climb into bed with his wife and forget about the whole thing.

You walk into the kitchen after tucking Henry in bed and momentarily freeze upon seeing Fred sat at the table. You'd like to say that you were over it, that the bath had worked to calm you down and make you sorry for your part in it but don't feel an ounce of remorse.

"Want some pizza Angel?" George asks, standing with an empty plate. Just the mention of the pizza makes your stomach turn and the nausea flare up, the thought of the grease and the rich flavour.

You shake your head, "I'm okay thanks, did Henry eat enough?"

"Yeah few slices, picked off most of the meat though," George says with a slight chuckle, hoping you'd join in with him. You don't. You nod, looking around as if you'd forgotten why you came to the kitchen in the first place.

"Princess," Fred begins to say but you block him, spinning around on the spot to glare at him.

"Don't bother," you say quickly, harshly.

"He's only trying," George begins to say, only to be sharply cut off by you.

"You're taking his side now?"

"I don't take sides," George says calmly.

"Right yeah, neutral George," you say with a roll of your eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He asks, his temper rising.

"Don't act coy George, you were just as excited when that letter came through! Insane, you're both insane." You shake your head, unable to see clearly through your annoyance.

"We're doing this again?" Fred says with a sigh.

"I don't know, has your opinion changed?"

"Has yours?"

You look at both of them, seeing that they were not going to change their view or even bother to see your side. You suddenly feel ganged up on, just you against the two men infront of you. You feel the baby kicking against your left rib and realise that you need to calm down, your blood pressure probably rising from your emotions.

You simply walk out of the kitchen and upstairs again, dinner forgotten and your annoyance renewed only now you were arguing with both of them. You slip into Henry's room to check on your youngest son, frowning as you see his desk light on even though he seems to be asleep in bed. You press a kiss to his forehead and slip out of the room again, walking over to Rory's room and closing the door behind you. You'd change her sheets again tomorrow, for now you were making this your room, a shelter away from your husbands.

"Mum! Henry! Dad! Daddy!" Rory smiles, running over to your group on the platform. The car ride here had been quiet and tense, with neither of you talking except to Henry who was practically buzzing from excitement at having his siblings home for the summer. You'd latched on to Bill and Fleur once you got to the platform as your husbands chatted with Ginny, trying to conceal the tension in your marriage.

"Mum!" You hear in perfect synchronisation, knowing the only two people that could be. Griff and Finn. You open your arms to your boys, the same boys that have already begun to tower over you even in their third year.

The ride home was decidedly less tense now the kids were back, excitedly telling you about their friends and everything happening with school. Henry was lapping it up, taking in every piece of knowledge about the school he'd also be attending in just a few years. You'd opted to sit on the back row to avoid sitting beside George who was driving and Fred who was sat beside Griff and Finn in the middle. You'd mumbled an excuse of stretching your legs onto the empty seat between you and Henry but in reality you just tried to keep your distance from your husbands.

Nothing had been said about last night and any attempts of reconciliation had been largely ignored by you, opting to stay quiet and avoid further confrontation. You were cordial enough but blunt, and the antithesis of touchy.

Getting home, the kids immediately fanned out around the house, excitedly reclaiming their spaces whilst you busied yourself in the kitchen. George was with Rory helping her move her trunk and the abundance of other things she'd brought back with her whilst you took out the giant chocolate cake you'd made, decorating the edges with mini fizzing whizbees, the favourite confectionary of all your children.

"Looks good," Fred says, stepping behind you and placing his hand on your hip.

"Ah, chocolate hands," you say blankly, holding your arms up and attempting to gently barge past him towards the sink, forcing his hand away from you.

"What are you fancying for tea? Anything you want princess," he says as he watches you washing your hands, attempting to get closer to you again which you naturally wouldn't have.

"Up to the kids really," you shrug, placing the dome lid back over the cake to keep it fresh before walking out of the kitchen.

"Everything okay Angel?" George asks you as you reach the top of the stairs, seeing your slightly breathless figure.

"Fine, I'm pregnant not dying," you puff, trying to conceal your panting, the stairs not being your friend at 8 months pregnant.

"I," George begins to say before abruptly stopping, watching you begin to walk away rather than interact with him. "Want me to order something for dinner?"

"What is it with you Weasleys? Always bloody food, there's a kitchen full downstairs."

You don't even look back, delivering your words as you step into the bathroom and close the door behind you at the end of your sentence.

"Can we stay at Granny's tomorrow?" Rory asks, looking between the three of you whilst you eat dinner.

"Wanting to be rid of us already?" Fred asks mid bite, his fork only millimetres from his lips.

"You've only been home five hours," George adds with a laugh. You say nothing, secretively feeling a little hurt by the notion and feeling even more worried at the prospect of being alone with George and Fred.

"I just thought it would be nice, we've not seen Granny and Gramps," Rory adds, looking between her siblings.

"It's been ages!" Henry adds, seemingly taking his cue from Rory, the twins nodding feverishly until all siblings were unanimous in their thinking, which was mightily suspicious.

"Right. What's going on?" You say, looking between your children as you place your cutlery down on the plate with a resounding clink. They suddenly look sheepish, their little 'tells' giving them away, mainly the twins who seem to be mirror images of their fathers, including their little ticks.

You turn to look at Henry, seeing him avoiding your gaze and shifting the food around on his plate nervously and suddenly it all makes sense.

You sigh, looking up to your husbands.

"I think we have a little informant once again."

"Henry, anything to say?"

It takes a few seconds but he slowly warms, looking up briefly at you and then to Rory, avoiding his fathers gaze all together. Rory sighs and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of parchment. It takes less than five seconds for you to ascertain where the parchment had come from, deciphering the handwriting instantly, confirming your original suspicion. That explains the light that was left on in his bedroom at least...

"I just don't like you fighting," Henry says, instantly making you feel like a dagger had been plunged into your chest. The baby inside you kicks at your ribs and you fight to not get worked up, though your heightened emotions make it hard.

"We're sorry," George says right away, his tone burdened with a sense of guilt and shame. Fred nods but you can barely look up from your placemat, ashamed that Henry had heard your spat.

"I told him that it's normal to argue in a marriage," Rory says with a slight roll of her eyes, which you chose to ignore.

"But mummy was upset," Henry argues, your littlest defender.

"Which we've apologised for," Fred says, "it wasn't our intention."

"Have you?" You say, immediately looking towards Fred, a re-newed fire burning inside you at his words. "I don't recall an apology."

"Angel," George says, trying to smooth things over. Fred seems to pale slightly but then you see the telltale sign of annoyance across his features, which only fuels you more. You refuse to do this infront of the kids, refuse to loop back to a pointless argument once again. You fight not to cringe at a rather harsh kick from inside you and force yourself to calm down, your body almost vibrating from the fresh wave of annoyance.

"Excuse me, bathroom," you say quietly, moving to stand from the table and walking back upstairs to give yourself some peace.

You don't go into the bathroom but instead you sit yourself down on the bed, willing yourself to calm down. You'd had much worse fights than this, had been through so much in your life and in your relationship and yet this felt like the lowest blow you could have been dealt. You knew you were in the wrong calling out their owl results and you really hadn't implied that the business was anything less than extraordinary, but your concern for the twins had blinded your better judgement. You wanted just like any other mother to give your kids every opportunity in life and to let them be their own people with a hint of productive guidance every now and then. You were far from the perfect student yourself and the danger you had put yourself in was immeasurable to anything the kids had done yet having seen the world at its worst, you knew the dangers. You simply wanted the best for your kids and wanted them to forge their own path, not be dictated that they would be forced to run the business their dads had worked so hard to build. But of course, your words had not come across so eloquently and the words Fred had said would not quickly be forgotten.

"Princess," Fred says, leaning against the doorframe into your bedroom.

"Please," you say, taking a hand off your bump to hold it up. "I can't take another argument."

"I'm not here to argue, not even slightly," he says, moving slowly into the room. He sits down on the bed beside you and tenderly reaches for your hard.

"I didn't mean," you begin to say, only to be cut off by him raising your hand to hip lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"I know, I knew the second I left. But you were right," he says, pausing slightly. "You were right to be worried about the boys. It's not the same world that we were raised in and you were right about the money from Harry and the OWLS and all of it, it's surprising how often you're right."

"Tell me about it," you say, the ghost of a smirk tugging at your lips. He huffs a slight chuckle and pulls you gently into him.

"I never meant to say anything about the shop, not even for a second."

"I know sweetheart," he says with a nod. "I know, George knows. The shop wouldn't exist if it weren't for you."

"Bullshit," you say. "You and George built that business from the ground up, everything you've done is because of your talents."

"And that is exactly why I know I overreacted. I heard my mums voice in the back of my head all over again, but then I heard yours and how supportive you'd been the entire way through. I let my memories cloud my judgement, especially with the boys."

"You're a great dad Fred, you always have been," you say honestly, his hand squeezing yours in thankful reply.

"And you are the best mother and wife we could have  dreamt of. I know our situation is a little different let's say, but there's never been a moment that it didn't feel right. I'm truly sorry."

"Me too," another voice says from a short distance away and you look up to see George mirroring Fred's stance only moments ago against the doorframe. You hold out your other hand for him and he joins you both on the bed, sandwiching you between them.

"Now if the lady agrees, I think we have a lot to make up for, don't you think Freddie?" George says with a smirk, kiss lips ghosting your ear.

"I'd say so Georgie, the second the kids are in bed, we're going to prove exactly how sorry we are, over and over again."

[emeritusemeritus]

Three in a bed…room.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader {Established Relationship} Bestfriend!George.

Warnings: Sexual references, implied sex, sharing a bed and a bedroom. George is a long suffering third wheel. George is DONE. Immaculate banter.

Word count: 398

Little Drabble inspired by this prompt I wrote a while ago.

"Don't you two start fucking, I could do without the trauma," George says as he settles down into bed, hitting his pillow slightly as he snuggles down under the covers.

It's your first night at the Burrow during the summer holidays and despite spending the day outside in the heat, a chill had set in once the sun had disappeared past the tree line. It was late now, well into the early hours of the morning and the three of you were only now crawling into bed, though you still didn't feel the pull of sleep.

You're already snuggled in the bed opposite George's, leaning on Fred's bare chest as he holds you tightly to him, stroking your back absently through your borrowed T-shirt.

"I mean it, no shagging whilst I'm in the room," George repeats, fixing you both with a harsh glare.

"Best to sleep downstairs then," Fred smirks. You chuckle against his skin, trying to conceal your laughter against his smooth skin chest. His arms squeeze you tighter momentarily, the heart radiating from his body filling you with warmth.

"You know what," George huffs, throwing back the covers with a sigh and climbing out of bed. "I'm going to sleep right here just incase."

He grabs the wooden bed frame with his hands, bending at the knees as he lifts the bed. He shuffles it the rest of the way over the uneven floorboards until it rests only a few inches beside where you lay in Fred's bed, having shifted his entire bed right next to you.

"How's this?" He asks cockily with a sarcastic grin as he climbs back into bed, pulling the covers up to his shoulders.

"Depends on how good of a view you want," you retort with a shrug.

Fred burst out laughing underneath you, his whole body practically shaking you. George immediately stands, reaching for his pillows and marches out of the room with little more than a huff.

You and Fred only laugh more as the door bangs shut, leaving you both alone as planned. His hands immediately begin wandering down to your bum as his face presses kisses to your head, urging you to lift your face up to his. He rolls you over in his arms and you can barely contain your giggles as he pulls the covers over both of you, getting his way once again.

[emeritusemeritus]

I love that you’re writing and posting so much! You’re one of my favorite writers on here!!! I was wondering if you could do a Fred x reader where they’ve been dating for a good while now but another guy gets his hands on a love potion and sneaks it to the reader and she falls in love with him and forgets Fred but luckily their friends catch her before anything happens and Fred gets mad at the guy. Something like that? Thanks in advance if you’re still taking requests!

Hi Anon! Thank you so much! I hope you enjoy, I changed it just a little (mainly because the reader is an actual badass) 🖤

Warnings: Use of a love potion, slight non-con because love potions are essentially spiking. Lies, theft, unreliable narrator. Snape is Snape. Nick Alas is an actual canon character unbelievably. Creepy behaviour, minor stalking, men are creeps. Coercion.

Side note: I envisioned Nick to be like Mr Collins in Pride and Prejudice (2005) which made me laugh the whole way through. It’s implied the twins are brewing their own love potions but these are the ones sold in the shop, mostly harmless and in no way as dangerous as Amortentia.

Word count: 4.3k

Amor Amentia {Fred Weasley}

"I must regrettably inform you all that a thief sits amongst you, their sticky little hands undoubtedly blistering from the heat of my impending wrath," Snape says, from the front of his potions classroom m, his onyx cloak billowing behind him as he moves quickly around his desk to address you all, his face solemn as ever. 

"It appears my personal stores have been violated by one attempting against my better judgement or personal opinion, to recreate a most potent draught. Though my previous experiences with your work give me little doubt as to the success of your attempts, the point still stands that the consequences befitting your actions will undoubtedly be... harsh."

His tone is ominously dark, his voice steady, as he glared around the room looking at the face of every student, silently judging their reactions.

"Should anyone know of the perpetrator or perpetrators involved, it is in your greatest interest to speak up... now."

"Bloody hell, I thought he was going to turn us to stone with that stare," Fred says as he walks down the potions corridor with you, his arm flung around your shoulders. George laughs from beside you but you don't feel as jovial as them.

"Fred he looked really mad," you say, slipping your hand into his still slung around your shoulders.

"He always looks mad," Fred counters with a smirk and you roll your eyes at his unfazed nature.

"Probably because someone's been stealing Pearl dust from his stores," George says quietly, a matching smirk on his face.

You stop, causing Fred to stop and then George just a few steps behind.

You don't say anything, instead shooting them with looks of bewilderment, not that you should really be surprised. They simply look back at you with identically cheeky smiles, openly admitting that they had indeed been the perpetrators.

"You bloody pair," you say with exasperation, marching forward now with your own chuckle of laughter, only to be stopped by Fred's strong arms pulling you in.

"We only stole a bit, he wouldn't have even noticed!" George says defensively.

"Well he clearly did," you counter.

"Can't have been just us then," George shrugs.

"And you're going to be a good girl and not tell anyone aren't you," he says with a raise of his eyebrows.

"Yes to the second, no to the first," you bite back, waiting for his passionate kiss which comes mere seconds later when he figures out your words. The kiss is delicious and alluring, one of those that make your knees begin to tremble and you fall into him without trepidation. George groans somewhere around you but all it does is cause both of you to smirk into the kiss, years of the same situation no longer making you feel guilty at being so affectionate in front of George.

"What's your next class?" Fred asks after pulling away, his hands staying on your waist as if unwilling to part, a feeling you shared.

"History of magic," you sigh, already feeling exhausted by Professor Binns' notorious monotone droning. "You?"

"Herbology," Fred smirks, knowing he would have an easy ride with that one.

"Transfiguration," George says, perfectly neutral in reply. Of course it was the one period where you all had different classes, even the twins.

"Just think, when we've got our own shop we won't be separated like this," Fred says, pulling you in for another kiss. "And that history of magic OWL will really come in handy for us."

"Yeah yeah, bugger off to your greenhouse," you snark, playfully pushing him away.

"See you at dinner sweetheart." He winks and then turns away, saying bye to George before falling out of view as he turns around the corridor. God his arse looks good today.

"I'm not going to kiss you, bye sis," George says in a deadpan way, playfully shoving you as he walks up the stairs two at a time to get to McGonagall's classroom, leaving you alone in the main corridor.

"Can I walk with you?" Nick Alas says suddenly from behind you, making you jump out of your skin.

"Sure," you say shakily, trying to recover from your scare. He neither apologises nor comments on giving you a fright and you fall in step with him as you walk, thinking instantly how awkward it was as neither of you spoke. You wished that you'd agreed to meet Alicia to walk to class, resigning yourself to his company today. Tomorrow you'd ask her. He shot you glances every now and then but barely said a word, something about his demeanour making you uncomfortable.

Nick Alas was a creep, nothing more and nothing less. He'd tried many times to talk to you and even on your most agreeable day, you found him off putting and creepy, his entire being setting you on edge. There had been a few times over the years that he'd tried to get you alone and had been much too over friendly, even asking you out once or twice in a roundabout way.

"Been together long?" He asks, trying to appear casual. "You and that Weasley."

"Oh um, about two years," you say, suddenly feeling very awkward sharing this with him.

"That's young," he says in reply, a sharp tone to his voice that makes you question his motives. He's clearly far from impressed by your answer, his pompous looking face scrunching up into a distasteful frown.

"Can't help falling in love can you," you say dismissively, wishing the History classroom wasn't so bloody far away.

"So you love him?" He asks, forcing you to send him a clear look of bewilderment at his obnoxious question, offering no reply to his probing question.

"I've never had a girlfriend," he says without prompting, stepping infront of you to avoid the passing students in the tight corridor.

"Really?" You ask, acting outrageously surprised when in fact you were far, far from surprised by his admission. "I'm assuming not by your own choice."

"What?" He asks, not having heard you.

"Thanks for the walk," you say, approaching the history door and lurching it open, done with his strange behaviour. You find Alicia immediately and give her a look of exasperation as she clocks the bloke behind you, stuffing her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle at your obvious displeasure.

"How funny we've been set as partners," Nick says, sliding into the now vacant seat beside you, again to your great displeasure. It was funny, a little too coincidental if you were honest.

"Completely off topic, how good are you at the Imperius Charm?" You say blankly, barely looking up except to study Professor Binns for any sign of enchantment, if ghosts could even be enchanted.

"What? I've never," he begins to say, only for you to cut him off with a disinterested 'never mind'.

"Y/n, y/n?" You hear from behind your place at the dinner table, the great hall filled with students tucking into their last meal of the day.

You fight the urge to groan once you realise who the voice belongs to. Alicia catches on immediately from across the table, stifling another giggle into her hand as she sees your face drop and the boy behind you so insistent on getting your attention.

"Can I borrow you?" He asks, standing rigid behind your place at the table, waiting for you.

"She's eating mate, not a good idea to come between a woman and her food," George says from beside you, whilst Fred remains quiet, simply looking harshly at the pathetic looking boy trying to get your attention.

"Noted," he replies, barely casting a glance to George as he replies, which you immediately clock as the height of rudeness. "Y/n?" He urges once more.

You finally turn and see his eyes momentarily flick down to your legs, specifically to where Fred's hand is still resting and very obviously, you assume to wordlessly mark his territory.

"I've had a brilliant idea for our project, something a little off the cuff," he smiles proudly at himself.

You sigh in resignation and look towards Fred who looks unhappy to say the least but gives you a silent look which says 'fine', before his glare hardens once again when he looks at Nick.

"Tonight?" You say quickly, pressing your hand onto his shoulder.

"Got to check the inventions after curfew," he whispers with a nod, which you immediately understand his meaning before saying bye to your friends.

"Here try this, it will keep you awake," Nick says after your latest yawn, the many in great succession due to the lateness. He pulls out a little hip flask out of his bag and hands it to you, unscrewing the lid for you. It's an oddly shaped flask covered in a sort of leather wrap engraved with his initials across the from.

"Dragon skin," he says smugly, as if preempting your next question, which definitely was not what material you were holding.

"What's in it?" You ask, looking down the neck at the liquid below, trying to place it.

"It's a very weak caffeine brew, almost akin to tea, perfectly safe, just perks you up a little for the late night study sessions," he gives you a sickly sweet smile which seems to make you instantly uncomfortable. "Smell it, it's delicious."

Against your better judgement, you lean down and smell the mixture in the hip flask.

Immediately you're hit with the most delicious scent to ever grace your nostrils. It's alluringly sweet and absolutely mouth watering, drawing you in with a familiarity that it makes you want to drink every last drop.

"Drink," he prompts, his eyes urging you on.

"There's no goblet," you say, looking around for a drinking vessel of sorts, imagining nothing worse than placing your lips where his had inevitably been.

"Mmmm," you say as you take a sip, so loudly that he'd undoubtedly hear your little moan, not that you cared if he heard in the circumstances.

You watch as his head whips around to look at you, stopping his quest for a vessel as you'd already been so entranced by the scent you no longer felt the need for a goblet and drank straight from the source.

"Good?" He asks, his eyes burning a hole in your face. You nod with a smile, your eyes blinking a few times.

"What does it taste like?" He asks, moving forward in his seat ever so slightly to shift closer to you.

"Heaven," you say in reply, a contented smile plastered on your face as you slowly feel your mind shift and your eyes glaze, though you're far from concerned at that moment, feeling a sort of peace and excitement all at the same time.

He sends you a rather intense smile that would usually freak you out but instead you show nothing but your calm nature, suddenly showing an interest in your partner that you hadn't previously.

You begin asking insightful questions about him, wanting to focus only on the boy in front of you, even shifting closer in your seat towards him.

"Maybe we can leave the work until tomorrow," he sneers, his eyes ghosting around the entirety of your body and focusing specifically on your breasts almost unashamedly. You simply shift closer to him, looking around the room tentatively before reaching over to grab your book from the table.

"I think I should go to bed, but I don't want to leave you," you say with a soft smile, your eyes chasing his. His eyes widen very briefly before the smile erupts from his face, his hand reaching out for your knee.

"We can carry on in the morning, straight after potions. I'll walk you to your dorm, make sure you get there safely."

"It's only up the stairs," you giggle girlishly, nudging him with your shoulder, knowing that you were only in the deserted common room.

"Still, better to be safe," he says, looking at you with a look you can't place, his eyes looking entirely devoted.

You nod and stand to move, giggling slightly as you grab your bag from the floor and place your books into it. His hand rests on the curve of your back as you walk up the stairs and predictably you can feel his eyes on your behind as you walk, your skirt swishing with the effort. He stops outside of your door and you look up at him with a shy smile, thanking him for walking you back safely, despite there being no one around. He suddenly begins to try and kiss you, but you shift back slightly with a girlish giggle pouring out of you.

"No kiss without a date," you say seductively, trying to keep him sweet on you as you look towards him.

He seems shocked for a moment and then smiles, reaching out for your shoulder.

"How about I walk you to breakfast in the morning? We can call that a date then."

"Perfect, night Nick," you say with a smile, bidding him goodnight as you step inside the door.

The next morning, he's already waiting for you to step out of the dorm room, so much so that you nearly collide upon opening the door.

"Good morning, you look nice," he says, focusing less on your face and more on your breasts, openly ogling you. "Here, a little pick me up before breakfast."

He hands you his flask and prompts you to take another swig, which you do.

"Mmm, I swear it's nicer than it was yesterday," you giggle, joining him in step on your walk to the common room.

"Oops!" You say as you spill a little on your school jumper, your face stricken at seeing the mess. "Oh no my jumper! Do you have a jumper I can borrow? Yours would be really comfy I bet," you say with a blush. He freezes for a second before snapping into action.

"Of course, follow me," he says with a smile, reaching to place his hand on your lower back as you move towards the boys dorm rooms, your eyes glancing down the corridor to try and guess which one his room is.

"This is my humble abode," he says as he steps into a large room that is so tidy and clinical that it looks regimented, with hardly a thing out of place.

"You have a dorm all to yourself?" You ask in wonder, looking around at the considerable lack of beds.

"Yes actually," he smiles, gesturing for you to take a seat on his bed. "My roommate Kenneth moved out a little while ago on account of the hideous boils he broke out with."

He digs through his drawers whilst you look around, spotting a singular outlier in his room, the one patch of mess you could see, immediately intrigued.

"Here you go, I hope this covers your wondrous curves," he grins, holding out his jumper for you. You raise it to your nose unapologetically and smile with a light giggle before pulling off your school jumper and replacing it with his. He never takes his eyes off you and you can tell, shying away slightly from his peeking eyes. You stuff your jumper in your bag and smile, ready for breakfast.

"I actually prepared something, I hope you enjoy it. Follow me."

You follow him down to the potions corridor without speaking, keeping close to him and hardly looking away. When you read the corridor you see a few breakfast items laid out onto the stone ledges, low enough for you to perch on. Two goblets of pumpkin juice had been laid out and a handful of different pastries though it was hard to see from the hardly-illuminated corridor, entirely void of windows or any natural light.

"Thank you Nick, this is wonderful," you say happily, moving to sit down excitedly on the ledge, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you in close proximity.

"Have you thought anymore on our project?" He asks, biting into a pastry whilst pushing your goblet of pumpkin juice towards you.

"No, my mind has been a little occupied," you answer honestly with a blush, a shy smile forming as you reach for your goblet. He smiles back, the crumbs around his mouth falling off with the movement and you watch as they tumble down onto his school jumper below.

Soon enough, it's almost time for class and with an impressive flourish of his wand, the cups are cleared away. You look at him in amazement and he smugly smiles at your silent praise, before looking over your head and the smile slips right off his face.

"Weasley," he says with a curt nod from over your shoulder.

"Love," you hear someone say from behind you, their hand reaching out for your arm after you didn't turn in the slightest towards the person joining you and Nick.

"Umm George is it?" You ask upon turning, looking between the two identical twins, one standing forward just in front of you and the other set slightly back.

"What?" He says in wonder, his face scrunching up unpleasantly, your words clearly having an effect on him.

"Sorry you look the same to me," you say with a slight giggle, a pink blush spreading across your cheeks at the slight awkwardness.

"You really can't tell which one your boyfriend is?" He asks angrily, suddenly grabbing your wrist.

"Boyfriend?! I've barely ever spoken to you! Look George, just leave me and Nick alone okay, we don't want any trouble."

You feel breathless, your heart pounding as you manage to pull your arm from his grasp, ignoring his strong look of hurt as he looks down at you from his towering height, an issue you didn't have with Nick.

He doesn't even look at Nick as he marches into the classroom closely followed by his glaring twin, Fred was it? But you try to pay it no mind, especially not his pain filled eyes as he looked at you. Did he have you confused?

You step into the potions classroom with Nick and choose to sit by him, awaiting Snape with a nervous energy filling your entire body. You can feel the Weasley twins' stares upon you throughout the entire first half of the lesson, their eyes figuratively burning holes through your skin. The feeling of being watched never left and you tried to ignore it as you focused on your seat mate, watching him closely and sharing little glances when you could. He was glowing under the attention you were giving him, smug with himself that he had you looking at him so adoringly.

“Bloody Weasley,” Nick mumbles under his breath, catching his eye once again as he apparently looks at you.

“He’s just curious,” you say, leaning on your hand whilst you look at your new partner.

“How do you mean?” He asks, eyeing you from his peripheral vision.

“He’s curious why his girlfriend is pretending to be obsessed with you.”

“What?” He asks, suddenly bewildered as all pretence of your admiration dissipated in seconds, no longer having to pretend to be under the spell of the love potion. Your eyes are harsh and unforgiving as you look at his with pure disgust and a hint of smugness at managing to deceive him.

"Maybe if you had brewed the potion correctly I wouldn’t have had to pretend."

"What?" He repeats in astonishment, his eyes suddenly widening in horror.

"Amortentia is almost undetectable when brewed using powdered moonstone. Pearl dust is what gives it the scent only known to the receiver. If you'd just used moonstone I probably wouldn't have known by the smell."

"But you said!"

"That is smelled like heaven?" You laugh, dropping every bit of lingering dramatics. "You mean toasted marshmallow, pumpkin and whizzbang smoke? Funny how your caffeine brew smelt exactly like my boyfriend."

He's speechless, looking at you in bewilderment that you had deceived him all along, knowing that he'd tried to drug you with Amortentia right from the beginning.

"Professor!" You call, holding out the hip flask. "I think I've found your thief."

Snape marches over with an furious gait, his cloak swishing behind his fast footsteps until he stands before your bench and snatches the hipflask out of your hand. He brings it to his long crooked nose and takes a vague sniff, his face scrunching further in disgust as he recognises the potion immediately and what it means for his personal stock, until his eyes travel down to the flask, eyeing the initials so proudly displayed on the front. His thunderous eyes meet those of your seat mate and glare with a look so ferocious it momentarily makes you freeze.

"Mr Alas, I recommend you gather your personal effects, though I'm certain you won't be needing them much longer. I shall take you to the headmasters office myself."

"Professor," he begins to plead, but it's a foolish endeavour, rendered silent only moments later as Snape's gaze doubles down, practically slicing him to the core.

He's escorted out of the classroom by the Professor immediately, the heavy wooden door slamming shut behind them. The previously silent classroom erupts into whispers and chatter, all of which focused on the events that had just taken place and the surprising nature. Fred runs over to you, followed by George and pulls you into the tightest embrace he can, his lips on yours almost instantly.

"You were brilliant love, my clever, clever girl," he says with a smirk as he holds you. You melt into his embrace, consumed by the need to be close to him again, the last 24 hours being so painfully hard to be away from him like this.

"You deserve a medal for that one," George says, pulling you out of Fred's grasp and lurching you forward into an embrace.

"I've deserved a medal for ages," you snark, your voice slightly distorted by your face being so tightly pressed up against George's chest.

"And a shower, good Godric he was slimy."

"Did he try?" Fred says, his smirk fading as he thinks of what could have happened.

"No, well try yes but he didn't get anywhere," you say, expelling his fears. "Just being close to him was enough to make me want to peel my skin off."

"At least she's loyal mate," George jokes, nudging Fred, both of them chuckling.

"Which reminds me," you say, pushing away slightly and instantly removing your jumper, pulling away from you and throwing it far away. There's a wolf whistle somewhere in the classroom and you simply raise your middle finger in the vague direction before reaching down into your bag to pull out your own jumper. "Spilled some of his potion down me earlier."

"Bastard!" You say as you look at your previously stained jumper.

"What?" Both twins say in alarm. You lift up your school jumper to show them exactly what you could see, holding it right in front of your face. Unfortunately, even with the jumper right in front of your face you could still see the twins through the gaping hole in your jumper, the potion having eroded the fabric where it had spilt.

"Bloody hell," Fred says, eyes wide in horror as he looks at the spot where he can see straight through your completely unwearable jumper.

"Fancy getting out of here?" You say, knowing Snape would not be back before the end of class. They both nod and you gather your things, walking directly to the boys dorm, listening intently at the whispers already circulating around school.

"Can't believe you pulled that off, I'd have topped myself having to pretend to like that slimy git," George says as he plonks himself down on his bed whilst you sit on Fred's crossed legged, having toed of your shoes and pulling down on your skirt to keep from flashing George.

"Honestly he was gross," you say with a shudder.

"And thick," Fred adds, jumping onto his bed beside you.

"How did you know we'd see you last night? You could have just come here," George says, adding a snarky. "You're usually always here."

You throw a pillow at his face, earning a blast of laughter from your boyfriend as the pillow hits him square in the face.

"He walked me back to my dorm, wouldn't take no for an answer, reckon he was trying to keep me away from Fred when the potion would be wearing off," you say, "well he walked me back to a dorm, but it wasn't mine. I wasn't gonna let that creep know where I slept."

The twins chuckle and you join them, all at Nick's expense.

"Figured you would check the map before sneaking out to check your potions after curfew, just like you said, and you'd see me at the black lake and come find me, then I could tell you everything."

"Dangerous for you to go alone though sweet girl, especially not having the map. Anyone could have seen you."

"Hence why I borrowed Harry's cloak," you smirk, not having told them that part of the story. Reminding you that you would have to give it back to  Harry this afternoon.

"Godric I love you," Fred says with a chuckle at your level of mischief.

"I think I do too," George chuckles, laughing more when Fred glares at him.

"Oh there is something else," you say, throwing yourself off the bed and reaching down into your bag. You rifle around for a second, trying to locate what you'd put there only this morning, smiling as you grab it.

You place the little vial into Fred's hand, the glow of the Pearl dust shining all on its owl.

"How did you?!" They both begin to ask at the same time, amazed that you had it.

"Stupid git left his little potion brewing equipment out, right under his bed. I nabbed it when he went to get me a new jumper because I'm just sooo clumsy, figured that but you'd stolen from Snape would be accounted for after Nick was caught."

They laugh and Fred pushes you down onto the bed again, his body covering yours as he kisses you passionately.

"Happy brewing boys," you smirk, pulling away with a smile, before sitting up straight in bed with a gasp.

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

"His name was Nick Alas!" You begin to burst out in laughter, hunched over yourself whilst the twins look on in confusion. "Nickalas! Like Nicholas! Poor bastard."

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi this isn’t necessarily at question but I wanted to say that I absolutely love your work and look forward to seeing what new Weasley twin stories you create. You’re an amazing writer! I can’t wait to see what else you have in store for us all! 💖

Hi Anon, thank you so much for your kind words! It means so much to me and I appreciate you so so much for reading. I started this blog as a way to find myself again after having a baby so it’s very dear to my heart and writing has always been one of my passions which I’m thankful that I get to share now. Definitely more to come! 🖤

[emeritusemeritus]

I just binge read everything you’ve written for Fred and I’m obsessed. Litch everything was so good.

Hi Anon! Thank you so much for reading, I’m so glad you enjoyed! Hopefully more will be coming soon🖤

[emeritusemeritus]

Can i request a soft dom Fred and mean Dom George (george is the rougher twin you cant change my mind on that 😂)brat taming their wife and it ending in fluff when they find out the reason shes been so cranky with them is cause they’re expecting.

Please 🙏🏽 if not i understand 😊

Okay this was right up my alley and I could not leave this alone! I personally think George would definitely be the meaner Dom without doubt. I hope it’s okay that I switched the ending around a little with them finding out she was pregnant rather than knowing all along 🖤

Warnings: Brat!Wife x Dom!Twins, George is kinda mean, Fred is the soft!dom. Punishments, spanking, pussy spanking, sex, piv sex, aftercare, swearing. Graphic smut, pregnancy, minor vomiting. Polyamory, two husbands. Fluff and playful banter.

Words: 3.2k

Use your words.

"Say that again," George says lowly, a harsh look in his eyes. His tone is clipped and steady and though his words implore you to repeat yourself, there's no semblance of him asking for you to repeat yourself.

"I. don't. want. it," you reply, eyes filled with mischief as you bite back, though your face is blank and goading.

"Let me get this straight," he says, pinching the little bumped bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "The food you wanted, the meal you requested this morning, you don't want it now? That's what you're telling me?"

Playing this game with George is like winding up a child's toy. You consider your answer very briefly before deciding to keep playing with him. What had been a seemingly normal conversation had quickly turned into a little power play that you we revelling in.

You nod, offering no verbal reply, knowing what it would do to George.

"Use your words Angel," he says, eyes darkening as he threatens you. You simply smile and shrug, eyes fixed upon his as the look on his face turns thunderous.

"That's it," he says, moving to stand and walking over to you menacingly, reaching out to grab the side of your neck with his large hand, gently turning your head upwards until you were forced to look at him. "You want to tell Freddie what a naughty girl you're being or shall I?"

"Fred doesn't scare me," you bite back, the defiant look returning to your eyes.

"I'll be the judge of that princess," a second voice says from behind you, his tone lighter than George's but still menacingly dominating.

You feel him move to stand behind you, hands instantly reaching out for your hips to thrust you backwards until you were pressed against him. His touch is softer than George's but still as deliciously dominant.

"I'd say that calls for at least 5, don't you think Georgie?" He says from behind you, his lips tracing your hair, nuzzling gently until he's ghosting his perfect lips across your ear and don't the side of your neck that George isn't holding.

"I'd say 10, at least mate."

It's almost embarrassing how wet this makes you, the banter between them as they speak about you, as if you're not currently trapped between them. It was no use denying that you'd been slightly... off for the past few days, more than a little cranky and quite honestly rather bratty. Initially they'd let it slide but you could tell you'd really started pushing some buttons now.

"Think this perfect little ass can take it sweetheart?" Fred says quietly, teasingly, his hand moving from your hip towards your clothes bottom that he caresses, getting a handful of the supple flesh.

Your mouth falls open as Fred grips your ass hard and you strain not to make a noise, already enchanted by the game play.

When George's hand moves slightly to gently grip your throat, your eyes fly open until you're staring up at his piercing, ominous eyes.

"Your husband asked you a question Angel," he says with the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Want," you manage to get out, voice meek and quiet as your thoughts race, no longer able to hide your desperation for them to touch you. You were so wet, so aroused, you needed relief- you needed the punishment. You squirm against their holds, first pushing your hips back to run against Fred's growing bulge, knowing better than to try that with George and then by giving him a devastatingly innocent look as you bite your lip, pleading with Georgie to give you what you wanted.

"What was that Angel?" He sneers, grubbing your throat a little harder. "Couldn't hear you over the desperation."

"Please Georgie, need you," you manage to choke out. Truthfully his hand wasn't gripping you that tightly, merely holding you, but the sheer desperation and arousal was making it hard for me you to communicate, your thoughts cloudy. All you could think of was getting off, of their cocks, their fingers, anything that would take away the burning desire you felt.

"Good girl," Fred says from behind you, his crotch making contact with your ass, his obvious erection pressed between your cheeks as he rolls his hips making you gasp.

George lets go of your throat but keeps his hand hovering nearby until he leans down and presses a kiss right to the column of your throat, your head leaning so far back from looking up at him that you were close to resting on Fred's shoulders. The kiss makes your skin burn, electrifying you inside and out.

"Get on the bed, I want you completely naked and bent over for us, think you can do that Angel?" George says in a menacing tone. You go to nod but stop yourself, no longer wanting to prolong the dance.

"Yes Georgie," you say, though it comes out breathless as Fred's hands begin to wander across your body, his hands reaching up to squeeze your braless tits making you release a breathy moan.

"And?" George adds, one eyebrow raised.

"Yes Freddie."

"Bed," Fred says in your ear, dropping his hands from your breasts until he pulls away, patting your bum to move you, ushering you forward.

You don't hesitate and immediately walk to your shared bedroom where you begin peeling off your clothes frantically. Once you're naked, you climb on the bed and get on your hands and knees, ass up in the air just like they like it, just as instructed. You're so wet that you can feel the dampness extending onto your thighs, the exposed skin of your pussy being nipped at by the cold air.

It feels like an eternity waiting for them, naked and splayed out ready for them to take you.

"Fuck, well if this isn't the prettiest sight," Fred says from the doorway and for a second you hesitate moving to look but you decide fuck it, you were being punished anyway. You'll be eternally grateful for what you see when you turn your head, seeing both of your husbands completely naked and waiting for you, cocks hard and their bodies in complete display for your viewing pleasure. You have to bite your lip at the sight, cunt weeping as you fight to stop the little dribble from running down your leg.

George is leaner, slightly thinner and his cock had the most delicious curve that hits every single spot inside you just right. His arms are folded as he stands upright in the doorway, observing you carefully with a resolute expression.

Fred is wider, in every sense. He's bulkier than George and carries the tiniest bit more weight which is an absolutely delicious contrast. He's thicker and perhaps a tiny bit longer than his counterpart and you can't help the strand of drool that falls from your mouth as you look at him, leaning casually against the doorframe.

"Still think she needs punishing mate?" Fred asks George playfully as his eyes wander over your form, focusing between your breasts and your cunt, all exposed to his gaze.

George doesn't reply, at least not verbally as he slowly stalks over to you on the bed. His hand rises and reaches for your chin before smirking at you and turning your head forcefully until you were looking away, back down to the bed, just as he wanted.

You cry out at the sensation when you feel a single finger stroking along your dripping cunt, a featherlight touch that fuels the fire more than provides any relief.

"So wet," George says in a mildly adoring tone, perhaps the nicest compliment you were going to get tonight. His thumb begins stroking lightly over your swollen clit and you cry out, his thumb precisely catching the little hood of your clit- just the spot that drove you insane.

"Ready for your punishment little brat?" George asks, pulling his hand away.

You can't help but whine at the loss of sensation, hips flouncing as you fight to keep his fingers exactly where you needed. Suddenly, you cry out again, this time much louder as his palm lands a smack on your ass for the whine.

"That one was a tester," he warns, rubbing his palm across the newly hit skin. "Five from me, five from Freddie, sound fair little brat?"

"Please, please," you beg, no longer able to think clearly, hardly listening as you fight to keep your gaze fixed to the bed.

"Good girl," Fred cooes, moving to stand to your side. His cock is right there, inches away from your face just begging to be sucked and your mouth waters at the thought.

"Freddie goes first," George explains, moving away until he squats down in front of you, allowing you to look up at him. He places a kiss on your lips, dangerously slow and teasing, as if he's tempting you, spurring you on. He pulls away with a slightly pleased look and smirks. "I want you to count." He then looks up towards Fred and nods, making your cunt throb.

The first strike lands perfectly on your ass cheek, making you cry out. You count, just as George demanded, readying yourself for Fred's next spank. Fred's spanks are always softer than George's, with tender rubs in between. You count to five and breathe a sigh of relief, pleased with yourself that you'd made it through. George kisses your head as he moves to stand, cock bobbing as he switches places with his twin.

"You did so well sweetheart, so well," Fred says, leaning down to press a seductively sweet kiss on your lips that you never want to pull away from. "Just a little more and you can have my cock, okay sweet girl?"

The cry you give out when George's hand makes contact is louder than any you'd ever done, even though his spa king was much, much softer than normal. Most notably because instead of his hand making contact with your ass cheek as expected, it lands straight on your pussy.

You hear a dark chuckle from behind you as he watches you squirm as the impact.

"Thought I was going to make this easy Angel?" He says darkly. "Spread 'em wide."

The next one has you crying out again in sheer ecstasy, the tip of his fingers slightly catching your clit. You look into Fred's eyes as the hit lands and watch as he bites him own lip at the arousal of seeing you in ecstasy.

"Two," you stutter, losing yourself in the sensation.

The next one lands back on your tender ass cheek, the same one Fred had abused only moments before.

"Th-three," you splutter.

"So perfect," Fred coos next to you, "two more little princess."

Every nerve is burning within you, painfully aroused by their torment. The evidence of your arousal drips down your legs and onto the bed and you're entirely powerless to stop it. You need them, need relief so desperately.

"Please," you beg, looking into Fred's eyes and for a second you think you've got him until George lands his fourth blow, fingers landing on your pussy lips. You can almost hear his fingers making contact with your wetness, the sound of wet slapping echoing through the room.

"F-f," you say, taking a breath. "F-f...our."

"One more baby, so beautiful," Fred says encouragingly, his hands reaching out to stroke your forearms that rest on the bed, holding your weight but barely as your limbs begin to shake. Tears are brimming your eyes through the sheer overwhelm of it, something that Freddie notices almost immediately.

When George's hand strikes you one final time, you cry out in both shock and relief, his large hand managing to catch your red bum cheek and your puffy pussy lips all in one go.

You're broken, tears silently falling from your eyes abs body exhausted.

"Colour sweetheart?" Fred says delicately, stroking back your hair.

"Orange," you reply quietly, taking breaths you needed to steady yourself, confirming that you were okay to carry on but didn't want any more punishment.

"You did so well beautiful, such a good girl for us," Fred says delicately but you're not really listening, your attention is focused on the burning need you have to be filled and of his rather silent twin who hadn't given you any praise or instructions yet.

"Let us love you Angel," George says finally, moving beside his brother to look in awe at your tear stricken face. "You look beautiful," he says, his resolve softening as he looks upon your face.

The moment you feel Fred's cock enter you, you feel immediate relief. George's cock sits heavy on your tongue as you begin to such gratefully, trying to prove to him that you could be his good girl after all. The sex is electric, magnificent. It's a complete entanglement of bodies, so much so that you can hardly tell who is who as they manhandle you and bring you to an overwhelming climax over and over.

In the end, you're abundantly satisfied and exhausted, lying between your two loves who look just as broken as you. Fred deals with the aftercare, rubbing some soothing ointment into your sore backside whilst George holds you tightly into his chest, pressing kisses to your hair.

"You ready to eat, Angel?" George asks eventually as he throws on a shirt and his boxers whilst Fred opts to stay nude, always running naturally hot. You cringe slightly at his question, remembering how you got into this in the first place.

"What are we having?" Fred asks, sitting back down onto the bed next to you, pulling you closer and pressing a kiss to your temple.

"Lasagne," George replies.

Two things happen at once. Immediately you gag hard, throwing your hand up to your mouth to prevent throwing up on your bedroom carpet. You lurch away from Fred desperately, causing him to lose balance and fall off the edge of the bed but you can't stop to apologise as you run into the bathroom and empty your stomach directly into the toilet.

As soon as it had come on, it went. You flushed the toilet, washed your hands and brushed your teeth whilst frowning, wondering what the hell had just happened. You were fine two minutes ago, what had changed?

Until you remembered that you were having lasagne and garlic bread for tea and your stomach lurched again, roiling dangerously. The thought of the oily, strong smelling bread and saucy, slimy pasta had you fighting back another heave.

"Angel? We've got you a glass of water," George calls out through the door. You take a deep breathe, open the window to air it out a little and sheepishly open the door.

"I'm sorry," you say immediately, cringing at the thought of your dramatic exit. "Freddie, I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about it sweetness," he says with a smile, rubbing his sore coccyx with his hand. "Guess you're not the only one with a sore arse now."

"So you really didn't want the."

"Don't say it!" You say quickly, stopping George from finishing his sentence.

It's brief, a blink and you'll miss it sort of moment that if you didn't know your husbands as well as you did, their little twin quirks, you wouldn't have even seen it. They share a brief look, communicating between themselves wordlessly that is over in a flash, but you know it's meaningful.

Fred turns to you first, offering a softer glance than his twin as he steps forward to grab your hand. George disappears out of the room as Fred drags you willingly into the bathroom so you can bathe together, which you gladly welcome.

You're sat lazing in the bath between Fred's legs and resting your head back on his chest, camouflaged in a field of bubbles when George walks back in to the bathroom. You frown, noticing he was fully dressed, not in the boxers and T-shirt he'd thrown on after your escapades. He smiles warmly at you and you smile back, realising his dominant side had been shelved for now but you frown again when you see the little bag he's holding.

"Hear us out Angel," George says delicately, sitting on the side of the tub, unfazed by getting his clothes wet.

"Don't be mad okay?" Fred says, sitting up behind you, following your lead.

"You're pregnant," they say together.

You simply stare at them, confused and more than a little offended at the insinuation.

"Right because I throw up once and I've been a bit moody lately," you say with a slight roll of your eyes.

"Look sweetheart," Fred starts, "you've been a little... cranky the past few days, your appetites changed, your boobs are way bigger than normal, we just think it would be a good idea for you to take a test."

You look towards George who simply nods in agreement, a smile tugging at his face. You can tell he's trying not to get excited, the hope of what could be.

Under the hopeful gazes of your husbands, you relent, nodding slowly whilst you stare at the little box George has pulled out of the bag.

"Shoo, out!" You laugh, getting them to leave you alone to pee. You smack Fred's naked arse on the way out as you evict them, not listening to their muttering about how they'd seen you squirt, how is it different.

You take a deep breath and unbox the little contraption, looking it over in your hands before reading the instructions. You try your hardest not to get excited or hopeful but you fail miserably, could you actually be pregnant? It could hardly be a surprise, your two husbands both had a certain preference for cumming inside you without protection, but you had no idea that it might happen so soon after stopping your potion.

"3 minutes," you say, opening the door to let them in, both of them immediately walking over to the little stick that you'd flipped over. George had bought in a little egg timer and sets it on the side of the bath, twisting it round to the little plastic 3. Fred still hadn't covered up in the slightest and you had to laugh at him, looking between them at the fully dressed twin and the fully nude one.

"If it's not," George begins to say, looking deep into your eyes.

"Then there's always next time," Fred says, patting his brother on the shoulder, flashing your both a reassuring smile.

"Put some bloody clothes on," George chuckles, shoving his twins hand off him and you have to laugh at the interaction as Fred huffs, jogging off to put some boxers on.

When the timer goes off, you take a deep breath and close your eyes, secretly hoping that this could be it. You open your eyes when you feel two hands slipping into yours and entwining with your fingers, George on your left and Fred on your right. They both lean down to press a kiss to their side of your head before pulling their hands away to let you check the little stick.

Pregnant.

[emeritusemeritus]

Dancing around [Fred Weasley]

Title: Dancing Around.

Pairing: FredWeasleyxReader {friends with benefits/ situationship}

Summary:

Warnings: Sexual references, kissing, swearing. Friends to lovers, friend with benefits, idiots in love tropes. Mentions of alcohol (party setting).

Word count: 1.6k

Fred can hardly look away from the corner of the room where she stands, her girlish giggle seeming louder than all the other voices in the packed flat. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was celebrating its two year anniversary of being open and the great success that had immediately followed. It seemed like everyone that had ever stepped inside the magical shop was packed into the flat above the shop, friends, family and customers alike, all congregating in the space that was heaving with people. There's music blaring from a speaker somewhere, excited voices overlapping to create a thunderous hum with laughter filling the space.

He's made his way around the room numerous times, mingling with his guests, trying to move ever closer to the one person that seems to have alluded him all night. Like ships in the night or two passengers on opposing moving platforms, it seems every move that Fred makes to finally get closer towards her only makes him further away, the attentive host blocked by the very people he'd invited.

She looks beautiful tonight, though of course to Fred she's always beautiful. He can't think of a single time she hasn't looked radiant to him, even first thing in the morning with messy hair strewn across his pillow and a fresh face still harbouring evidence of sleep- secretly he thinks that is when she looks the most captivating of all. But looking at her now, it's fierce competition for the mental list he is apparently keeping of when she has almost borough him to his knees. The dress fits her like a second skin, hugging all the right places and accentuating  the delicious curves Fred's hands ache to reach for. Her hair looks effortlessly perfect and cool, a hint of messiness that drives Fred crazy thinking of all the times her hair has been a true mess as they lay together in bed, the unruly strands tickling his bare skin. She's effortlessly cool in a way that Fred could never be and people are naturally drawn to her, moths to a flame.

He can hardly pay attention to the conversations around him and tries once again to excuse himself, only to find more obstacles in his way. Her laugh fills his ears, so close to him now, the seductive tone of her laugh like a sirens call to him, his ears tuning out everything else around him.

God she looks incredible. He wonders briefly if he could steal her away to his bedroom, and how long it would take for anyone to notice their disappearance. His mind tries to formulate an exit strategy but he can hardly focus as the chap he's talking to rambles on, occasionally interrupted by the sound of your laughter.

"Excuse me," Fred suddenly says, ending the conversation abruptly as he places down his long forgotten drink onto the nearest surface, muttering something about needing to take a leak. He steps out of the room, sidestepping anyone who appears to want to engage and finds himself in the hallway between his and George's bedrooms, thankful for a moments peace.

"Fred! Thought you were running off," one of the lads from another shop on Diagon Alley calls out as he pokes his head around the corner to the hallway. His face is familiar but his name is lost on Fred, maybe Jeremy? Jeffrey? Definitely a J somewhere in there Fred thinks, holding up his hand as a sort of wave of acknowledgement, watching thankfully as he turns away back towards the party.

"Leaving so soon?" A familiar voice says quietly from behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling with excitement.

He turns towards the voice and can barely contain the smirk that appears on his face as he looks upon the face of the person he'd been watching all night.

"Only if you're coming too," he smirks, stepping towards the figure. She laughs and Fred's chest fills with pride at the sound, the ability not lost after so many years.

"How long do you think it would take for them to notice us gone?" She asks, moving closer to him until they were mere inches away from each other. Fred smiles, knowing that he'd had the same exact thought only moments earlier. The tension between them is electric and undeniable, the same way it had been for years. It was a source of amazement that their friends had never once suspected their situation when the chemistry between them was so strong.

"Not enough time for what I have planned for you," Fred smirks, eyes dancing across her face.

Fred feels weightless for a moment, almost like he's falling but without the concern that comes with it. He's physically moving and can feel something hot on his lips, his senses returning mere moments later when he realises that it's her lips on him, her body pushing him through the door to his bedroom so no one would see. It's sloppy and dirty, hands wandering eagerly and lips working perfectly in tandem with each other. He can taste the sweetness of her lipgloss and the faint taste of the spiked pumpkin juice she'd been drinking and it seems to only make him want her more, the reminder of their dirty little secret.

He chases her lips when she pulls away, her hands reaching for his collar to stop it going further. They're both breathless and panting, staring at each other with mirrored looks that convey the desperation within them.

"Sorry big boy, couldn't resist."

"Can't resist you," he mumbles in vague agreement, his hands reaching out for her hip, the exquisite curve that draws him in every time.

"Fred we can't, not here," she says with a smile, that delicate giggle falling from her lips. He ignores her logical statement and instead begins peppering her neck with kisses, something he often did as an act of defiance "Fred!"

"Princess!" He teases, repeating his name for her in the same tone she used, earning another laugh.

"Down boy, it's your party remember."

Fred grumbles something under his breath but it's largely unintelligible and she doesn't press him. Instead, she presses another kiss to his lips, lingers for a moment and then pulls away again as if to leave. Fred reaches out for her wrist and only has to touch her to get her to stop, his big hand encasing her wrist completely.

"Stay, tonight," he says, still sounding breathless.

"I," she replies, stammering over her words as a frown settles between her brows. "What about George?"

This was uncharted territory for them. She'd never spent the night at Fred's unless he was alone, the close proximity to George much too dangerous for concealing their secret. It was always at her flat, or a hotel, or a quick fuck somewhere when the tension became too much. Fred knew just as well as she did that it would be a mistake to stay here, that the deeply concealed secret they'd crafted over the years could be blown by a simple error, but he still hoped for it. He still hoped that he'd be able to take her to his bed and wake up with her the next morning in his arms with them both as naked as each other, clinging together for warmth under his thick duvet. He wished that he could make love to her in a morning with no rush, no place to be or evidence to clear away. He wanted to make her breakfast, though he knew that she'd take over within minutes due to his appalling skill set in that department and that it would all be so natural, regardless of if George was there or not. For the first time in his life he wished that he wasn't a bloody twin.

"I'll come to yours then," he counters. As he watches her face drop slightly, the sparkle in her eye dwindling, so does the hope that he'd carried in his chest.

"I can't tonight, got a thing early in the morning, how's tomorrow?"

"Yeah," Fred says with a nod, trying to keep his face neutral and his voice free of the heavy disappointment he felt. If she notices the disappointment in his eyes, she doesn't say anything. She smiles and reaches up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek, lingering slightly as her nose catches his cheek as she makes her way to his lips. He's enchanted by the gesture and helplessly kisses her back when her lips press lightly on his. The hand that he hadn't realised was still holding her wrist creeps down until he's linked their fingers, the cool metal of the rings she always wears making his chest thump with the reminder of her.

"Before I lose you to the crowd again."

With a smirk she's gone and Fred is left reeling, his own bedroom suddenly feeling foreign and unfamiliar to him in his daze. Only when there's a forceful knock upon his door does Fred break out of his little reverie, the feel of her lips upon his disappearing as soon as he'd ripped away from his thoughts.

"You alright mate? Been in there a while," he hears George calling him from the other side and he quickly composed himself, wiping away any evidence of lipgloss or her from his body. He rejoins the party and trains himself not to instantly seek her out in the crowd and to instead mingle once again with his guests.

When he finally allows himself a cursory glance around the room after denying himself for so long but he comes up empty. She'd gone.

[emeritusemeritus]

overstimulation and breeding with the twins? ive read both of your brat-taming fics and I’m just on the edge of my seat i swear to god. your writing hits me so differently. 🫣

My dear Anon, you clearly know the way to my heart. You ask, I provide the completely sinful smut, enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: where do I even start? Smut, graphic smut, piv, oral (m receiving). Fingering. Breeding link, pregnancy kink, possessiveness, overstimulation, cum play. Polyamory, two boyfriends, excessive mention of pregnancy.

Word count: 1.2k

Our own Quidditch team.

"Fuck!" You cry out, the only full word able to slip past your lips for at least the last hour, mind empty and unable to speak as you lie with your body and face pressed into the mattress, hips held up by two very strong hands as their cock thrusts deep inside you from behind. Their names had been lost long ago as had your ability to distinguish between them as they fuck into you one after the other, over and over.

It's been hours, your legs cramping, vision blurry with unshed tears and your pussy drenched in both your cum and theirs. There's so much, so many loads that your pussy can't possibly hold another drop, filled completely to the brim as it starts to freely drip down your legs, your own arousal mixing with their cum to create a pool between your hips where it's dripped and soaked the bedsheets.

"Fuck that's it princess, so fucking good for us," the voice behind you says as his fingers grip into your hips, undoubtedly leaving finger prints shaped bruises in their wake. He lazily fucks up into you, watching as his cock slips in and out of you, your drenched and abused hole still readily accepting him, pulling him in. He gives a few different thrusts, watching as your ass jiggles for him with each amount of force, a sharp gasp escaping you when he hits that one special spot inside you.

The noise is obscene, the squelch as he pulls out, your overfilled pussy dripping around his cock as he tries to fill you again. You've lost count of how many times they've cum inside you, how many times your cunt has clenched around them as they play you like an instrument, a fuck toy.

"That's it sweetheart, fuck you're doing so good," he says slightly breathless, thrusts increasing as he approached his climax again.

"You want another load princess? Think this will be the one? Going to look so fucking pretty all knocked up. Everyone will know exactly who you belong to, know you fucks you just right.”

The other brother steps in front of you then, semi-hard cock directly in line with your face as he renders reaches for your chin. You don't wait for instruction, already knowing what he wants as you open your mouth ready for him.

"That's it Angel, get me hard for you again."

You want to moan at his praise but you can't, your throat scratchy and voice weak after the screams they'd ripped out of you earlier in the night. His cock tastes of you, of your cum and his mixed together as you eagerly lap it up, sucking as good as you can as his twin pounds you from behind. His cock hardens against your tongue as you eagerly suck, taking him as deep as you can as he moans and groans above you.

"Fuck princess, gonna fill you up again, gonna knock you up, oh you'll look so fucking beautiful all round and swollen with us." His hips snap against yours with a newly renewed vigour as you fight not to choke on the cock gliding past your lips. George, you think it's George, pulls out of your mouth just in time for Fred to slam his hips into you one last time, holding you tightly to him as his cock twitches and spurts inside you. You cry out, completely overstimulated as your increasingly sore pussy accepts his load, his cock so deep and pressed against your cervix tightly that you can't keep still, the sensation too overwhelming, verging on painful. He's so big, you're so full.

When he pulls out you can't help but whine, feeling the loss of his cock and a flood of cum escaping your little hole as George quickly swaps places with his twin, immediately reaching up with two fingers to fuck the cum back into you, not letting any slip out.

"That's it Angel keep it all in for us, need you to keep this if you want us to give you a baby."

"Think you can take me one last time?" He asks, absently fucking you with his fingers. You can almost hear the smirk in his voice, the pleasure he's taking from watching you whine and moan, fucked out and rendered dumb.

"Can't," you manage to say, already overstimulated and unable to take anymore. When his hand slips over your bum cheek and underneath you, tentatively reaching out to glide his middle finger through your drenched folds until he makes contact with your swollen nub, you cry out desperately, hips falling onto the bed in exhaustion.

"One more sweet girl, give us one more," he says, circling your numb with perfect precision, the exact right amount of pressure and on the spot that makes your eyes roll back in your head. It's verging on painful, body overused and over fucked but it still feels so good, so fucking good.

"Gonna let me in Angel? Let your man give you what you need? Hmm?" He says, using his other hand to grab for your waist as he slips over you, knowing you can't hold yourself up anymore. You nod, face stuffed into the pillow to muffle your cries but he suddenly pulls his hand away, ghosting it over the red flesh of your bum cheek.

"Need to hear it Angel, you want your man to knock you up? Want me to breed you?"

"Please, please!" With the last bit of energy you had, you cry out desperately, trying everything to roll your hips back so that the thick head of his cock that is pressed dangerously close to your opening can slip in.

He pushes in finally and you bite down onto the pillow, pushing through the walls of exhaustion and overstimulation as he begins fucking you roughly. His hand slips underneath you to toy with your little swollen nub and in no time at all your soaring towards your orgasm, walls clenching around him. You need him to cum, to cum with you.

"Fuck that's it! Cum for me Angel, cum for me whilst I fill you up.”

You shatter the moment your orgasm crests, unable to cry out, unable to speak. You’re past the point or exhaustion and overstimulation but somewhere in the back of your mind you register George cumming one last time. You’ve been so thoroughly fucked that your mind is entirely blank, only visions of them cumming in you over and over again repeating in your mind.

“Think it’ll be twins?” George says, flopping onto the bed beside you as he slowly catches his breath, stroking your hair as his twin joins you on the, frankly destroyed, bed. You can’t even lift your head to look at them, nor mutter a reply.

“Reckon it will be a whole quidditch team with how much cum she’s got in her,” Fred says, reaching out to draw soothing lines up and down your spine as your eyes close, the exhaustion finally overtaking you.