Tamaki Amajiki oneshots

Desire part 6

**NOTE** EXCITING NEWS: I made this into it's own book thing so you can go read it there. Imma keep posting the parts here for now. 

This does reference/go chronologically with part 27 (Desire), part 28 (Desire part 2), part 29 (Desire part 3), part 30 (Desire part 4), AND part 31 (Desire part 5) and you will probably be confused about the plot if you don't read those first. 

This chapter does NOT contain smut.

requested in response to "desire" + "desire part 2" + "desire part 3" + "desire part 4" + "desire part 5"

Word count: 1134

Not an established relationship Fem!readerXtamaki

Summary: Kirishima comes looking for you. And he seems to know quite a bit about how to get under your skin.

Includes: nsfw lap dance

suggested listening: Love on the Brain by Rihanna

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"So... how was it"? Vicky comes up behind your chair as you dab some blush on your cheek the next day.

"It was good", you say with a nod, looking around the vanity for a lipstick.

"Just good? C'mon y/n tell meee", she whines in exaggerated eagerness, earning a smirk from you as you pick out a nice matte red lipstick.

"Well," you pause just to build suspense and Vicky looks at you like she's about to punch you. "We didn't have sex". You say it quickly. That's what she wants to know, right?

"Ok, I mean it was a first date-" you cut her off before she can finish.
"He came up to my apartment, Vicky! We kissed and then he got some stupid phone call and said he had to go". You're upset. You don't know why.

"I mean- shit happens y/n". She sighs, looking at you like you're a child she doesn't know how to deal with.

"Yeah obviously. But do you think it was a real phone call"? You turn your body completely to see her response.

"Did his phone actually ring"? Her voice is thick with condescendance.

"Yes- but it could've been planned". Your voice rushes out and Vicky stares at you.

"Why would he do that y/n"? Her voice is tinged with an apologetic tone and you shrug.

"I don't know? Maybe he doesn't want to sleep with me"? Your voice is quiet now.

"Girl. Don't be stupid. He obviously wants you- I mean I saw the way he looked at you when you were dancing the other night...Did you"? She sounds accusatory in the kindest way possible.

"I- I just don't know Vicky". You droop a bit with the words. "I know he likes me- I guess I'm just nervous. Or scared. I don't know"! You turn away abruptly, suddenly over the whole conversation. You're at work anyways, you shouldn't be talking or even thinking about Tamaki.

"Y/n. Don't throw this away because you're scared, okay? Just give yourself some time". She pats you on the shoulder and meets your gaze through the mirror. Her touch is comforting and you can't help but feel like she's right. You nod, mumbling your approval and she walks away.

Later that evening, you find yourself doing your regular rounds about the club, walking around looking sexy and asking if people want lap dances. Your outfit of choice tonight is a navy blue lingerie set. Simple but oh so effective.

"Hey, over here sexy". A gruff voice calls out and you turn around to find the owner of said voice. It's that spiky red head from the bachelor party. The one with the very sharp teeth. You saunter over to him, licking your lips. He scares you a little bit.

"I remember you". You come closer to him and he smirks.
"Same here honey". He reaches out to grab the back of your thigh once you're close enough and you startle. His grip is warm but loose. You could pull away if you wanted too.

"Handsy much"? You push his hand off your body. He tongues at the point of the sharp canines filling his mouth and lets out a dry laugh.

"Just admiring". He looks you up and down, an amused look on his face. "Wanted a lap dance from you, gorgeous". His eyes stop roaming to rest on your breasts, which are just barely shielded by the thin lace of your outfit. You nod.

"Just keep your hands to yourself and we're good". You exhale, getting ready to begin your dance, not sure if you want to request a song.

"Heard little Tamaki couldn't keep his hands off last night". He meets your eyes and you freeze. What.

"And what would you know about that"? You decide against the song and start to move your hips to the beat of the song that's already playing: Love on the Brain, Rihanna. He doesn't respond, instead his eyes follow the lines of your body up to your face. You're smirking. He spreads his legs. You roll your body against his and his face pales slightly. The beat sinks into your skin and you bat your eyelashes at him. His fists open and close at his sides.

You drag your hands down his chest. He's more muscular than Tamaki. Bigger but not as tall. He's wearing jeans, to your annoyance, and a gray hoodie under one of those varsity jackets. Jock. Your hands go to his shoulders and you straddle him. Unlike Tamaki, he never breaks eye contact or throws his head back. He's perfectly still as you rock your hips against his, breasts pressed against his chest. Your heart rate speeds to match the pulse of the bass in the song and you pull away so he can't see your chest heaving. He licks his teeth again and you blush.

Pulling off him, you turn around, swaying your hips to show off your ass. Backing up, you rub your ass down his chest before rolling your hips down into his lap, hands braced on his knees. He grunts. You put your hands on your own knees then, popping your ass against his groin with increasing pressure. You can feel him harden beneath you. Good.

"Turn around". His voice is hoarse but he still manages to sound demanding. You comply with a small smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and lowering yourself as far as possible without touching him. Your legs on either side of his thighs, you stand, breasts flaunted in his face and rub your hands along his neck. He looks up at you. You lower yourself so your ass brushes against his bulge and straighten your arm a bit so your upper body is further away from his. His face reddens ever so slightly when your body begins undulating on top of him. You tilt your head back and thrust your hips forward, a slight gasp escaping from your lips at the movement.

You carry on like that for a minute, trying to gauge when the song is coming to a close, before rising and dragging two flattened palms down his torso to his thighs. You kneel in front of him, fingertips ghosting over his knees and then moving back up towards his hardness. You subconsciously lick your lips as you trace your hands over the outline of him. He sucks in a breath. God, is the whole friend group this sensitive?

The final notes of the song ring out and you wink at the boy. He nods approvingly at you, retrieving his wallet from his back pocket but not bothering to close his legs. The dance is supposed to be twenty dollars but the red-head stuffs thirty into your panties.

"Don't worry baby", he says before you walk away. "If he doesn't fuck you, I will".