Part 3 - loverboy

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**NOTE** This chapter does NOT contain smut.

WC: 1425

Not an established relationship Fem!readerXtamaki

Summary: You get excited, then angry and then you're forced to put up your walls. Can Tamaki redeem himself? Can he prove that he doesn't just want to get in your pants?

Includes: mostly plot/conversation/some nsfw

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One o'clock drags around and you finally get to change into comforting civilian clothes. Never mind that you're meeting Tamaki. He's seen your best looks, now he can see your mediocre ones. Wide-leg navy blue sweatpants that sit low on your hips and a black tank top.

"Are you not going to tell me what happened"? Vicky looks at you packing up your bag. You blush subconsciously. "He asked you out, didn't he!" She looks triumphant, coming over to squeeze your shoulders.

"Not exactly". You correct her, watching her face fall slightly. "He asked to see me after my shift".

Her face lights up again. "So like- right now"?

You nod.

"At one in the morning"? She's incredulous.

You nod again, a smile splitting your face.

"My girl's gonna get a boyyyfriennddd". She sing-songs and you bat her away, giggling.

"Vicky! We hardly know each other". You stuff your costume into your bag, confused at the amount of cash.

"Tell loverboy I'm rooting for him", she calls as she leaves, ignoring your clarifications. You just mumble your goodbye, rummaging through your bag. This seems like too much money. You remember pulling a hundred out of your panties earlier that night but can't remember who put it there or why in God's name someone would pay that much for whatever stupid thing you must've done. You shake your head, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

It's exactly 1:05 am when you step outside into the cool night air. And there is no one there.

You stand for a second, thinking. He could just be fashionably late. He could be sleeping like any normal person would be at this hour.

Or he could be standing you up.

But he couldn't be. Right? He was so...innocent and pleading. He didn't have it in him.

1:05 turned into 1:15 turned into 1:45. You hated yourself more as each minute ticked by. How quickly you had let your guard down for him. You scoffed. He had no right to treat you like this. He had asked to see you. And now-

You didn't even want to think about it. You stormed to your car, shutting the door a bit harder than absolutely necessary. As you drove you knew who had slipped you the hundred. It was Tamaki. When he had touched your hip in the room. What a fucking piece of work. What- did he think he was too good for you? Because you were a stripper and that was so beneath his well-dressed, fresh-smelling self? You swallowed the disgust in your throat. And to think you had simpered over him for weeks when he was just as gross as that spiky red-head who had licked his lips, looking at you like he was staring down a medium-rare steak.

Well. Fuck him.

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The days passed. Slowly at first then faster when you realized that Tamaki had been a mere lapse in judgment. You had only known the boy for a sum total of two hours. Most of what you thought of him had been fabricated by your own mind. It was delusion at its finest.

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