Outnumbered // Weasley Twins x Reader

A cage nonetheless

The twins watched you like a hawk.

Every single shift that you worked, one of them was there to keep an eye on you. They didn't trust their brothers or mates to document your every move now, not like they had in those weeks between learning you worked for them and agreeing to that first date.

No. Now their minds could only be satiated if they saw that you were safe — and even then it wasn't enough, because who fucking knows where you were when you weren't working. It certainly wasn't your own flat, and neither man was ever able to get close enough to catch the tail end of Blaise's disapparition.

It was maddening, mind numbing work. Fred especially could feel his emotions unraveling one evening after seeing you emerge from that private room with kissed raw lips and flushed cheeks. Never did he get any meaningful time alone with you. You always found a way to slip out of whatever corner you'd been caught in, always managed to avoid answering Fred's aggressive questioning.

"You own this club, you know." Sylvia tried to remind him as he sat at the bar late one night. Fred was nursing his second lowball of firewhiskey and if she had to guess, it was far from his last. "Just say the word and I'll have Dominic kick the tosser out."

"It isn't that simple, Sylvie..." Fred seethed.

Though it killed him, he glared across the lounge floor and watched as you straddled some bloke twice your age. Apparently you still had time available for public lap dances, and Fred supposed he should've just been happy that you hadn't disappeared completely — but he wasn't.

His heart hurt. It wrenched in his chest every time he stood outside of the lounge at the end of the night and smoked half a pack of cigarettes, waiting to see if Blaise would accompany you out when your shift was finished. And of course, he always did.

At least when you hated them, you paid him or George some sort of mind. Now, it was as if you were blind to the entire world... ignorant to absolutely everything and everyone besides Blaise fucking Zabini.

"Ms. Zabini is a large shareholder in a ton of our businesses. Fucking witch is loaded," Fred elaborated while reluctantly tearing his eyes away from you. "Not to mention dangerous... rumor is she's the most vicious black widow in Great Britain."

Had the person in question been literally anyone else, Fred was sure that he and George would've dragged you kicking and screaming back to their estate the very night they realized something was up.

But that was too dramatic for the Zabinis. They would never allow someone to besmirch their prestigious name in such a loud, public way. Everyone had heard the hushed whispers about how they'd come into so much money — and it certainly wasn't thanks to generational wealth, such as the Potters or Malfoys.

No. It might've been coincidental for two or even three of Ms. Zabini's husbands to pass away from such odd and unfortunate deaths... but seven? Seven wealthy men just so happened to marry the woman, make her the soul beneficiary to their fortunes, and then die? If the only Zabini heir was made a fool of in a way that Fred and George saw fitting, there was no doubt that you would face the consequences. And seeing as everyone knew what Ms. Zabini was capable of, the two men just couldn't let that happen.

As much as it pained them, they couldn't put you in danger.

So instead, they watched. They drank, and they seethed, and they clenched their fists around glass after glass of whiskey while watching Blaise pinch your ass and pull you down onto his lap until the day they had certain answers as to why you were ignoring them while still wearing those bloody bracelets around your wrist.