a.n. this is in honour of the boys being on bgmt last night haha
tristan walked into his dressing room after they were on britain's got more talent, where i was sat on my phone, having watched the show live on the tv in here.
he smiled and walked over to me.
"don't fucking touch me." i said and he stopped in his tracks, looking at me with a confused expression.
"why? what--"
"you didn't tell me you were going to play the bass and sing?" i scoffed, "i wasn't fucking ready."
"sorry, baby girl." he smirked, knowing i was just having a fangirl moment.
"and that game, where you bounced he ping pong balls, you were so good, what the hell."
"babe, you already know i'm good with my hands." his smirk widened as he sat next to me.
"and you looked so fucking good, it's unfair." i sighed.
"i'm all yours, princess." he leant forward, pressing his lips to mine, his hands gripping my waist, "i've been a bad boy, baby girl, you should punish me."
i slowly trailed my hand up his leg, gently pressing down on him member through his jeans, feeling him harden underneath my palm.
i smirked and stood up, going to the door, "come on, we're going home."
"fuck you." he chuckled, looking down at the tent in his jeans.
i giggled and extended my hand to him, which he gladly took in his own, and followed me out the door.