A/N: Someone requested that I do a Tamaki X reader fanfic, so I followed through and did one! It's a slight AU, where Haruhi doesn't go to Ouran, because I have no idea how to compete/write a love triangle! I'm sorry! But anyway, here you go! (Re-Posting this story after someone reported it and it was taken down. I can understand if this story offends you, and you can express your complaints to me and I can see about changing it to see fit.)


Ouran academy, a high school for the super wealthy and privileged. A more lenient school than most, always wanting to please the students of wealth and power. It was.

And you were going there.

Your father inherited a vast amount of money from their uncle, who passed due to medical issues, along with a large estate and three servants, loyal to your family and the estate.

Your father had enrolled you into Ouran, hearing of its prestige and high class, but you were less than thrilled. Before your parents had inherited your uncles wealth, you had gone to a small private where you were top in your class. You were hard working and studious, and you felt Ouran wasn't challenging enough for you; you and your parents having taken several tours in the past. You didn't understand how the classes worked, either.

It was the first day of school, and the colors of fall came surprisingly early, using the campus as it's canvas, painting with light splashes of yellow and gold on a handful of trees, the rest of the plants still retaining their green hues. The only good thing you could notice about this school so far was the gardens. They were lightly used, which meant it would be quiet and calm, the perfect place to study and get work done.

However, you didn't feel like studying today, having the jitters about the new environment, so you decided to talk a walk instead.

You walked down elegant halls, past loud libraries, and wound up in the top floor of the building.

Standing at the window, you looked out into the courtyard, where groups of girls in flamboyant yellow dresses sat in the grass and boys in light blue suits meandering the grounds. Taking a closer look at a certain group of girls, you watched as they fluffed out their dresses, brushing them smooth and fanning them out. They appeared to love the monstrosities that were the uniforms at this school. You looked disgustedly down at your own dress, hating it, despising it.

You scrunched up your face, there's a word for a dress like this, you thought, racking your brain for the right word, until you finally found it. Abomination, yes. You smiled, glad to take your frustration out on this inanimate object, which received the abuse without complaint.

You hated dresses. How they fit, how they looked, especially when the dress was a hideous yellow. Why couldn't they be sky blue, or royal purple, or at least red. Why yellow? Yellow was a disgusting color in general, being too bright and too flashy.

Looking out the window again, you looked up at the sun, shining down through the few, thin, clouds that floated slowly across the sky, and you smiled at the warm rays. The sun was the only exception to the color yellow.

Closing your eyes, you let your skin heat up in the rays, comfortable only in this warmth were you able to forget where you were or what you were in, and you simply enjoyed the moment.

"Looks like someone's photosynthesizing." A voice pulled you out of your moment, and you turned around, ready to riposte him, until you saw him.

His smile was laughing, kind and natural, and his eyes such a deep blue they seemed to be violet. His hair was blonde, but such a golden blonde it was hard to not stare, each strand seemed to appear to have it's own glow, appearing like the rays of the sun radiating off his head.

"Hope you don't sprout leaves any time soon, but I would very much like to see you with petals." He took several steps closer until he was an arms-length away, and he stared out the window.

"Beautiful, isn't it? Fall seems to have come early this year, bringing with him the colors you find in the sunset." His tone made it sound like he was reciting poetry; romantic, calm, and steady. He turned away slowly from the window, turning to you and bowing. "And who might you be, my lady?" He looked back up at you with his violet eyes, which screamed seduction.

"(y/n)." You timidly replied, looking away from his gazing violet orbs, not wanting to fall for the flattery. You've heard from afar, listening in on conversations, hearing of the flattery the boys charm the girls with. It seemed to be some sort of strictly male disease at this school, charmosis, flatteria, seductitis. You internally giggled, you could come up with names like this all day!

"(y/n), what a lovely name, for a beautiful girl. Oh, and where are my manners! I am Tamaki. Tamaki Suoh. At your service." The last name is what caught you.

"Suoh? As in related to Yuzuru Suoh?" You turned to him, being extra cautious with the son of the chairman.

"That is correct, my dear." He stood straight up again, smiling lightly. "And if I am not mistaken, you are new here, correct?"

You nodded, "I'm in my third year."

"I'm a third year too." He smiled handsomely. "Well, I do hope that you like it here, (y/n)." He bowed again, and he left you at the window, staring at him.

He's very nice, and sweet… suddenly, realizing what you were thinking about, you shook your head, clearing your mind. What am I talking about? He's just like all the others, nothing but flattery and false words in order to make yourself feel welcome and known. Glaring at his back, you turned from the direction he left and headed off the opposite way, wanting to avoid him. You didn't want false words or comments that they didn't mean, you didn't want your heart broken again.

You didn't want to remember the details, but images of your ex boyfriend flashed through your mind. You had blindly loved him, still thinking he loved you even when he was slightly abusive. He had filled your head with words of love and kindness, and he inflicted upon you harm, blaming it on sudden mood swings he couldn't control, and you took pity on him. One day, while trying to force himself upon you, you defended yourself, and he retaliated viciously back.

Now, you were careful not to give your heart freely away, cautious around others who you automatically saw them as manipulative, through your own fear of reliving that pain again.

You were cowardly, yes. Judgmental, oh yes. You could list off a thousand bad descriptions that fit you, feeling that in a way, it was your own fault which caused your heart to be broken. To be blinded by flattery and pity to see the truth. To not do something about it and confront him or go to another. For not cooperating with what he wanted even when he got aggressive. No.

Anger flashed through your body, and your fists clenched, driving your nails into your palms. It's not my fault I didn't want to do it. It's not my fault I didn't want him in my pants. He doesn't own me. No one does. And that's the way I'm going to keep it. Now fueled by anger, you stalked through the halls, other students that watched you go by now stared at you in fear, feeling a vicious aura surrounding the air which you occupied.


A/N: Okay, okay, now, before you start accusing me, i'm not a pessimist! It's just that I like writing stories that have some sort of background in order for it to have volume, depth, and a good plot. Don't worry! My stories usually have a good, happy ending! Well, maybe not all of them... :), but this one does, I promise!