The pitch crackled with anticipation, the excitement of the crowd in the air, but you weren't watching the game. Your eyes were on them - Regulus and Barty. Your enemies. But perhaps that was about to change.

You knew exactly how to push their buttons, and today you'd chosen the perfect outfit for the occasion. Your crop top, emblazoned with the words "You hate me, but you'd still want a taste", was a deliberate provocation. You wanted to see how they'd react, and from the way their eyes snapped to you the moment they saw you, you knew you'd succeeded.

Regulus' eyes flicked to your shirt, then back to Barty, his jaw tightening. He was angry, but there was something else simmering beneath it - something dangerous, something that suggested a reaction far beyond mere irritation.

Barty’s lips twisted into a smirk, his amusement evident as he caught Regulus’s glare. His eyes met yours, the grin turning more predatory, as though he was savoring the moment.

For a long moment, neither spoke. Then Regulus' voice broke the silence. "I'm going to rip that top off after the match," he muttered, his eyes narrowing in frustration.

Barty chuckled. "That's for sure," he replied, his eyes still on you, the smirk never leaving his lips.

There was no doubt in your mind that they meant every word. They were angry—furious even—but that only made it more fun. Their words were laced with threat, but you weren’t backing down. You never did. In fact, you loved it.

The match finally came to an end. Regulus and Barty were both covered in sweat, their clothes clinging to their toned bodies in a way that made them both undeniably... sexy.

As they made their way towards you, there was no mistaking the look in their eyes - fierce, heated, and full of the same dangerous promise they'd shared earlier.

They stopped in front of you. “You’re going to regret wearing that shirt,” Regulus muttered, placing a hand beside your head, effectively trapping you against the wall.

Barty let out a chuckle. “Oh, we’ll make sure of it.”