Yandere Male X Female Reader - Tumblr Posts

Saviour Complex

Yandere! Tangerine X Reader

Act 1 | Act 2 | Act 3

Synopsis: One night, you're pushed straight into an incoming train, causing everything to go black. When your eyes open up once more, you find yourself in a completely different country and face-to-face with your favourite character whose demise was right around the corner. Too attached to the man, you find yourself hatching a plan to save him - unaware of the consequences.

Word Count: 7,556

Act 1 - Regrets, Regrets, Sinking in Regrets

The rough, bumpy texture of a fruit grazed the nerves of your skin briefly before it disappeared immediately - spinning through the air and landing back in your palm with yet another small burst of gravity.

"Stop throwing and catching that dumb orange of yours, you don't look cool."

The biting words of the person next to you could be perceived as venomous by any passerby who decided to eavesdrop in that split second; to anyone who didn't know her personally. You knew her though - you spent your whole life with her, how could you not know her? 

Your beloved sister.

"Tangerine, you mean." Your lips split open into a smirk as you corrected her.

Your words caused her brows to furrow in deep irritation on the surface, but, underneath it all, you could tell she wasn't actually mad with you.

"Same thing." She scoffed.

"It really isn't."

She gave you a look, one you were familiar with; a look which told you that she found what you just said utterly ridiculous.

"They literally look the exact same."

"But they aren't."

"Oh shut up." She huffed, one arm crossing over the other in a display of irritation. "You were never so picky about their difference until we watched that stupid movie."

You were torn between lighting up at the mention of your newly-crowned favourite movie, or showcasing your offense towards her critique of said movie.

In the end, you chose to do both.

"Okay, one, that movie isn't stupid-" she rolled her eyes as you spoke, "-and two, I can't go butchering the alias of my favourite character, now can I?"

"I don't get what you see in that guy." 

Being sure to exaggerate it as much as possible, you let out a loud gasp.

"How could you say such a thing?!" You proclaimed. "He is so cool and I love his accent."

"You literally have the same accent." She deadpanned.

"Yeah but I don't sound as good as he does." 

"You don't sound good in general."

You exhibited yet another over-exaggerated gasp.

"My own sister," the palm of your dominant hand pressed against your chest, fingers curling around the soft fabric beneath them, "treating me in such a way..."

"Oh, get over yourself." Another scoff left her lips, "I don't see how you're still such a carefree person despite what we used to do for a living."

For a moment, the grin on your face faltered and a flicker obscured your vision of reality. But that was all it was, a flicker - and it was only just for a moment. It was gone the next, you swore it was! No crimson substance stained against your mind or hands; no cold steel felt against the heat of your palm as your index finger wrapped tightly around that little lever; no screams that echoed through the confines of your head over and over and over-

-no, none of that. Not anymore, at least.

You were over that.

It was done and dusted.

It was thrown under the rug, ready to compile dust and slowly wither away through the teeth of the critters that lived alongside it.

It was never to be seen again.

At least, not by your hands.

"-ey! Hey!" 

Your eyelids met several times in rapid succession as you blinked away the sudden blur that kept you from seeing the concave of your sister's lips.

Ah, see? She did care for you.

"I'm sorry." Her voice was light, barely there, with a sense of gentleness she wouldn't be caught dead exhibiting towards anyone that wasn't you. "I didn't mean to, I was just... I didn't mean it."

"Nah," a small huff left your lips as they curved up into that familiar, carefree grin, "it's fine, I don't care anymore."

The way her expression didn't shift in the slightest was enough to tell you that she didn't believe you. However, even if she had her doubts towards your words, she chose not to speak more on the matter.

After a few beats of silence, a large red vehicle slowly approached from the horizon - emerging as though it was Harley Quinn pulling herself out of the toxic substance the Joker decided to drown her in.

There it was, your bus.

"Listen," your sister's voice was quieter than normal, tender and soft around the edges - still speaking as though what she brought up had bothered you, "I just want you to know that... I find it hard too. You're not alone in this. I was there with you too."

You paused for a moment, standing right outside the open doors that led inside the vehicle. 

Then, you took one step on, your hand reaching for the pole inside. Not too long after, you tilted your head towards your sister - towards Lena - and smiled, "I know."

With that, you thrusted the rest of your body onto the vehicle and sent her a wave as it started up - the screeching sound of its wheels being drowned out by the sound of the engine starting back up.

And then, you were off.

.

.

.

The glow of the night sky shined through the see-through walls of the office, lighting up several seats as it bounced off the monitors resting on each desk.

It was quiet, the only sound being the clicks of your heels against the solid ground, approaching the switches on the wall to turn off the one light that remained on. The one hovering over your desk.

With a flick of your finger, the only yellow glow in the room faded away to allow for the moon's blue rays to completely take over.

You didn't mind night shifts, they were comforting - some might even argue - relaxing. 

They had this feel to them.

One where you could remain unbothered, trapped within the confines of your mind forever to wonder what exactly life had in store for you next.

There was once a time where you hated being left to your thoughts; nay, you loathed it. 

Being left with your thoughts meant being left with your memories; being left with your memories meant being left with the haunting actions of your past; being left with said past actions meant being left with that same voice that berated your existence.

It was frightening.

It was terrifying.

So you ran from it.

You ran until it affected you no longer, you ran until your legs started to ache from the pain; until your lungs shrivelled up from the lack of air that it was so gluttonous for. 

You ran until you had left it all behind.

But even then, it still came back to haunt you.

Even then, you couldn't help but catch little glimpses of hair that would disappear past the sharpest corners - hair that seemed to belong to one of them.

But that was impossible.

After all, you-

Your head shook from side-to-side, eyes finally returning to reality and finding yourself right by the lights of your office, finger still hovering over the switch.

You sighed.

It was time to go home.

Your hand instinctively rose up, gripping the disk that surrounded the hat on your head and pulling it down slightly to ensure it stayed there. 

Then, your fingers curled tighter around the handle of the gray briefcase and you set off, footsteps swift as they echoed down the empty corridor.

With a 'ding!', the doors to the rectangular space parted to allow you to fill the vacant spot inside.

You stepped in, curling your other hand around the handle of the briefcase as you held it in front of you and leaned against the cold, metal railing. 

The glass at the back of the elevator provided for a good scenery that overlooked the night sky twinkling over the busy streets of the city; still ever-so-alive despite the time.

One particular puff of air that left your mouth fogged up the glass in front of you, the sight filling you with a familiar childish sense of delight and, before you even knew it, one of your fingers rose up to draw two lines and an upturned curve underneath before it returned to the briefcase once more.

A small smile drew out your lips as your eyes fell half-lidded.

The moment was then interrupted by the 'ding!' of the elevator once more.

You turned around, stepping outside before tipping your sunhat at the male stood with a phased-out look in his eyes, adorning a black hat of his own with the word 'Security' printed onto it.

Luckily, he wasn't phased-out enough to not notice your greeting, to which he returned with a small, nervous smile of his own.

One of the cuter security guards of your building.

A particular strong breeze had your hand clutching tighter onto your hat and your eyes squinting, trying to avoid any dust from getting inside.

The street lamps illuminated the road as many individuals rushed by, ranging from stressed business men to childish couples wishing to play a game of tag with one another.

You didn't stay too long to observe though; no, you couldn't. Didn't have the time. Your sister was probably awaiting your arrival with anxious, clattering teeth - wondering what was taking you so long while not daring to admit that she was worried for you.

Your eyes travelled over to the stairs in the middle of the street, leading downwards into the network of tunnels connected underground to allow for easy access to many different places in the country. 

Soon, your heels were clicking against those stairs, traversing down them to get to the tracks you would need to wait by to be able to set course home.

You stood at a queue, waiting to scan your card. It wasn't a long wait. It never was. At least, not at this time of night. Many people preferred snuggling under a blanket at home and watching a movie with a few snacks rather than having to work a late night shift where who-knows-what could go wrong.

Once you scanned in, you swiftly made your way to your platform, not needing to take the smallest glance at the signs to be able to know where to go. By now, it was all muscle memory anyway.

As you approached the rails, your heels made contact with a prominent bump on the ground - causing you to stumble the slightest amount before you were able to regain your footing just like that.

Now, it was just the waiting game.

You were a professional at waiting. Patience was practically your middle name; it had to be if you wanted to get your previous job done quickly-

-or... the job you had currently. Right, this normal, little office job. You had to be patient when waiting for the printer to be done with your papers, or awaiting an email from a co-worker of yours. Patience was key.

Patience was also risky.

In the time that you were patient, so many things could happen. You could wind up with your hands tied up in a basement because you decided to be patient and wait for your friend; or you could wind up with a gun to your-

"Enjoy hell, you murderer!"

Now, your reflexes were normally stupendous. Out of this world, really. When someone wished to deliver a rapid left jab to your face, you would twirl your body to the side to avoid it. Or when they went in for an uppercut aimed to take out your jaw, you would take one step back too quickly for them to react.

You wished you could claim your reflexes were good in this instance too- but it had all happened so fast.

The flashing lights of the incoming train; the harsh shove against your back that sent you tumbling over the platform; and the searing, white, hot pain that exploded against your side like a highly reactive chemical would with water.

So quick. So sudden.

So painful...

For a split second, everything went black.

Then, your eyes opened back up again.

The first thing you noticed was that you were stood upright, exactly as you were before being pushed - waiting in almost the exact same position. The railways right in front of your vision would have been enough to trick you into thinking that was all a daydream; some cruel concoction your mind conjured up to punish you for your sins.

You would've believed that whole heartedly had it not been for the fact that you were no longer underground.

The light of the moon was barely prevalent with the harsh illumination that was emitted from the lamps of the train station. There were a lot more people at this platform than the one you were previously at, the chatter was also louder than before; lively and sporadic, as though nothing just happened. As though you didn't just die.

You blinked slowly, brain struggling to process what, exactly, had just happened.

You died... didn't you?

No way you went through that pain and didn't die.

Someone pushed you into the tracks as a train was incoming.

How could you have possibly survived that?

Your head glanced from side-to-side as you noticed the people around you - specifically, their features. It differed from the Western features you were used to seeing in your day-to-day life. Instead, they looked to be East Asian, Japanese if your geography skills were doing you justice.

Another thing you noticed were the signs.

They weren't in English, instead filled with the symbols your mind automatically associated with the Japanese language.

You were in Japan somehow.

Was this some sort of final dream?

No way you imagined all that pain- that abrupt slam against your side that caused you to wince just thinking about it. 

Before you could further indulge yourself in the expanding, vast sea of your thoughts - a sudden pick-up in the breeze sent your hat flying straight off your head and towards your left.

A small gasp left your lips as your hand reached out, fingers stretching and just barely grazing the ridge before it picked-up speed once more and narrowly escaped your grasp.

It was then that you decided to rush after it, careful to steady yourself lest you stumble over your heels.

Luckily, you didn't have to move much for, soon, the ridge of the hat was caught by a set of fingers that grasped onto it before holding it out towards you.

Your own hand reached out, grasping the other end of your sunhat as you lightly pulled it down - ready to meet the eyes of the one who saved your beloved hat and thank them.

"'ere you go, love."

Your mouth fell open, agape in pure astonishment and disbelief.

The way this person didn't pronounce his 'h'; the way he gave you that specific nickname; those familiar incredibly handsome facial features that belonged to ATJ himself.

This person was-

"Tangerine..." You whispered lightly under your breath, voice practically inaudible as it was drowned out by your pure amazement.

"Sorry?" Your favourite character rose one of his eyebrows, cockney accent as prevalent as ever.

Was this guy really Tangerine? There was no way, right?

"Oh, uhm, I said thank you." 

He nodded briskly, about to turn and board the train when a voice called out to him.

"Oi! You coming?"

Another cockney accent paired with the broader figure and unique, silver-dyed hair that belonged to the brother of your favourite character.

That was Lemon, there was no doubt about it.

And if that was Lemon, this was definitely Tangerine.

You watched as Tangerine's facial features shifted, brows furrowing and lips tugging down as he turned towards his brother's direction. "Yeah, I'm coming! Hold your fuckin' horses, mate!"

He then immediately turned back towards you, eyes slightly wider than before. "Beg your pardon, love. Sorry, I forgot there was a lady present for a moment."

His chivalry was cute, and his looks just made him all the more attractive in your eyes.

Before you could even realise it, your lips curved upwards into a huge smile and a small, amused giggle left them as your eyes shone with mirth.

Once again, you seemed to have caught him off guard, causing his eyes to widen a little more as he paused for a moment. But that was all it was, just a moment. The next, he was shaking his head and heading off towards his brother without another word.

Holy shit, you just met the Tangerine!

The same Tangerine that you gushed to your sister about, complimenting his strength and looks and amazing accent.

But if you just met Tangerine... and you just saw Lemon with him... did that mean..?

"Holy shit! I'm in Bullet Train!"

One of your hands rose up to your mouth, pure excitement coursing through your veins as you refrained from letting out a high-pitched squeal.

Although, it wasn't long before that excitement of yours shifted into pure, unadulterated horror. 

"Holy shit. I'm in Bullet Train."

Somehow, some way, you had died and got transported into the world of a movie. 

And of all the movies you could have been transported to, it just had to be Bullet Train - the movie that ends in this very train flying off the rails and crashing straight into the ground underneath. 

How the fuck were you supposed to survive a train crash from a vehicle going two hundred miles per hour?! You weren't Ladybug, you didn't have insane levels of luck!

Okay, okay, everything should be fine so long as you didn't board the train, right?

Dear lord, was this all really happening right now? Were you seriously in your favourite movie?

The setting and two of the characters matched exactly so you must be in the movie.

But then, what the hell happened to you? Who pushed you into that train? If you died, what would happen to Lena? 

If you seemed to recall correctly, that person referred to you as a 'murderer'. They must've known, right? And if they knew... then that meant they would go after Lena too. 

She would be fine though. You were caught off guard, a moment of weakness - Lena never had one of those. She was always on guard; had been since you both first agreed to stop. She could handle herself.

Yeah, she'd be fine.

Right now, you had more pressing matters to attend to.

Perhaps if you never boarded the train, you could go about your life as normal? Maybe start a new life here, completely fresh? You knew enough Japanese to get by.

Maybe you could start a nice, little bakery and get cute regulars that always asked for the same order. You could hire sweet people to work as waiters or waitresses and create treats for those around you to enjoy. Maybe you could even find the man of your dreams and start a family?

Oh, who were you kidding?

How on Earth could you find another man when you were literally in the same world as Tangerine? 

No other man could scale up to the handsome assassin with anger issues.

That's right, he was an assassin. Both him and his brother.

If you recalled correctly, their current mission was to keep the White Death's son safe and retrieve his briefcase of money.

The White Death was a very dangerous individual. The head of a very dangerous criminal organisation. 

He was powerful. Too powerful.

Did you really want to get yourself wrapped up in that?

A light bump against your side snapped you right out of your thoughts, causing you to look straight at the cause of the interruption. 

"Sorry, that was my bad."

Your eyes widened by a fraction, gaze landing on the face of Brad Pitt himself. 

The main character had just bumped into you. Ladybug, himself, had just bumped into you.

Ladybug was yet another assassin who had almost no affiliation with Lemon and Tangerine except for one time where he was shot twice by Lemon on one of his missions. Ladybug used to be brash and temperamental but you believed that, during the events of this movie, he was trying to turn over a new leaf and get his job done as peacefully as possible.

Unfortunately for him, he was both extremely unlucky and extremely lucky. 

And he would also later find out that this mission of his wouldn't turn out as peacefully as he hoped.

"Miss, you good?"

You blinked twice, suddenly capable of seeing the furrowed brows of the laid-back male in front of you. He was probably concerned considering the fact that you phased out right as he bumped into you and apologised.

"Uh, yeah." You smiled, nodding your head very slightly. "Thank you for your concern."

He reciprocated your smile with one of his own, eyes twinkling a little in what you deduced was delight. "It was no problem. Y'know I admire your capability of putting that little interaction behind you and moving on. You go, lady."

Lena always found his little bursts of, what you liked to call, 'spiritual awareness' extremely irritating - although, you begged to differ. You found it cute how hard he tried to turn over a new leaf and gain a new attitude towards life. It was nice to see him try.

"Thank you." You bowed your head again, lips still stretched into that smile.

He then excused himself, putting the phone in his hand back up to his ear and walking over to the lockers behind you.

Well, now was probably your queue to leave.

So long as you never entered the Bullet Train, you should be completely fine, right?

With that thought in mind, you turned around, taking one step towards the exit of the station...

...and then a face flashed through your mind.

The handsome features belonging to your favourite character, drowning and choking in his own crimson substance, desperately trying to warn the main character; to let him know of the danger he was with; the danger he was right next to. 

That's right... Tangerine died in the movie, didn't he?

Could you really sit back and relax, in the same universe as your favourite character, and not do anything to save him? 

You paused mid-step as your chest heaved outwards, a large sigh escaping your mouth before, ultimately, you twirled around; gaze set straight onto the bullet train in front of you.

Curse your favouritism for ATJ.

Alright, well, if you were doing this, you might as well do it with some sort of preparation. Entering a train with several highly-trained assassins and surviving it was no easy feat, after all.

If you recalled correctly, which you almost a hundred percent did due to how many times you had watched the movie, Ladybug retrieved all the aids for his mission from that locker he just went to. In that locker should be a gun which he never bothered picking up.

If you could get your hands on that, you would be able to hold your own pretty well.

It should be fine, you were over your past anyway. It was no longer a bother so you would definitely be able to pick it up again.

Besides, you weren't gonna use it lethally. You swore off of that ages ago.

Now, your only problem was how to keep Ladybug from closing the locker after he was done taking out what he needed from it.

How did one stop another from closing a locker?

It's practically done from muscle memory; an action not given much thought but done as habitually as breathing was - something which was not easy to keep someone from doing without physically harming them.

And you would prefer not to harm Ladybug for the contents inside his locker.

Maybe if you...

No, that wouldn't work.

What if you-?

Nah, that definitely wouldn't do it.

Perhaps you could-

Before you could even think about the third thing, a familiar grey hat passed you - the same hat Ladybug wore throughout the start of the movie.

Did he just pass you?

In panic, your head frantically did a full one-eighty, eyes landing on the blue rectangular spaces lined up in a shelf behind you, one of which was very slightly open - Ladybug's to be specific.

Well, that was convenient.

With a confident strut, you made your way straight towards the locker - eyes trained on the prize. You stopped just a centimetre away from the shelf before your dominant hand rose up and pulled it open, gaze landing straight on the dark object to the side; completely untouched and fully-loaded.

Your lips turned upwards in a sense of accomplishment, despite the fact that you hadn't done much to acquire this object in the first place. Still, you reached for the pistol with that sense of pride - although, it slowly started to ebb away the closer your fingers got to the handle, nerves causing them to start to shake as they drew nearer and nearer; almost like you were about to touch something you suspected was poisonous. But it wasn't poisonous, it was just a gun. You could pick it up. 

Yeah, you could pick it up.

Your fingers lightly grazed the familiar cold metal, flinching back after only two seconds of contact, eyes squinting shut as though it was going to explode merely from your touch; as though it would kill you to hold it.

But it wouldn't.

It couldn't.

It couldn't harm you without anyone touching it.

You were fine.

With a small breath of air leaving your lips, you curled your fingers back around the weapon, picking it up and immediately hiding it behind your hat. You waited a few moments; as if to really ensure you would be okay; as if to instil in your mind that it wouldn't hurt you, wouldn't hurt anyone else using your hands.

Then you turned around - eyes widening way more than usual as you witnessed the train start to move and the doors start to close. Quickly, you rushed towards it stumbling a little on your heels before your foot almost got caught on a wedge in the ground. It was at that point, you decided 'fuck it' and lunged towards the door, just barely falling inside the capsule between carriages as you rushed to pull your knees up, narrowly avoiding the doors almost cutting them off.

You let out a sigh of relief before getting up and dusting yourself off, using both your hands to place your hat firmly back onto your head, pushing down on the ridge to do so. 

When your hands lowered once more, however, you caught sight of that wretched thing in them once again.

Your breath hitched in your throat; refusing to leave it as the drum of your heartbeat echoed through your ears, growing louder and louder and louder. You could feel it in your ears, as though it traversed your veins from your chest all the way up to the caverns you used to be able to hear, blocking out every other sound so that it was the only thing you could listen to because of how selfish it was for your attention. 

As if that wasn't enough, you could even feel it slamming against your chest over and over and over-

-and then it all just stopped.

Just like that, gone.

Your shrunk pupils enlarged once again, eyes landing on the now-empty gun in your hand - the cartridge loaded with bullets having fallen to the ground underneath you. 

Without even thinking, you threw the cartridge straight out the open window.

After heaving a few breaths, you realised what you had just done.

"Ah, shit."

What use was an unloaded gun to you now?

"Woah, what are you doing, lady?"

A sudden voice broke you away from your thoughts and caused your eyes to trail up, meeting a certain pair of mesmerising blue ones that belonged to the main character of the movie. You then slowly trailed your eyes back towards the empty gun in your hand before meeting the blonde's eyes once more and slowly, ever so slowly, raising both of your hands up.

"This isn't what it looks like."

He rose an eyebrow, eyeing the gun in your hand and then looking at your face once more.

"Awh, man, lady - I really thought you were better than this. A gun? Seriously?"

"No, no!" You quickly denied, shaking your head from side-to-side. "Seriously, I- I wasn't going to use it maliciously, I swear!"

"Look, we can talk this through, yeah?" He rose one of his arms to the back of his head, scratching it rather awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah! Of course!" You agreed. "I'd love that!"

"Okay, so how about we put the gun down first, yeah?"

You took off your hat, placing the gun inside before fitting it right back around your scalp and saying, "there. Out of sight, out of mind."

He gave you that same skeptical look you had seen in the movie and, now, had seen twice in real life. Then he decided to leave it be.

"Do you mind if we have this chat after this call I have to take? Sorry, I don't wanna be rude or anything but I did kinda leave someone on hold."

Ah yes, he was speaking to his Handler, wasn't he? The woman who gave him the job as opposed to his sick co-worker Carver, who was actually played by your favourite actor, Ryan Reynolds. 

"Oh, yeah, go right ahead. I don't wish to interrupt." You added a little, nervous giggle to the end of that sentence; if only to further push the harmless citizen act you put on.

Act? Sorry, no - it wasn't an act. It was the truth. You were a harmless citizen. All you wanted to do was save your favourite character's life; nothing more, nothing less. 

"Could you, uhh, follow after me? Just, keep a little behind though. Y'know 'cause... it would be kinda rude if you listened in on my conversation." He looked to the side awkwardly.

"Yeah, yeah, I could do that."

It wasn't like you didn't already know his exact conversation like the back of your hand anyway. But he didn't know that and neither did he need to know that. 

You then watched as he entered the next carriage, being stopped by the staff member who asked for tickets as he proceeded to give the receipt for his ticket but not the actual ticket itself - just one of the many instances where his bad luck kicked in.

Soon enough, it was your turn to follow after, walking down the carriage a little nervously as you were stopped by the exact same guy. 

"Ticket please."

"Ah, right." You let out a little, nervous giggle similar to the one you did earlier. "Lemme just..."

You pretended to look for the tickets on your person, fully knowing that you didn't have any considering the fact that you were... well- not really part of this world until you opened your eyes straight after dying.

Your nervous smile grew even further as his gaze grew more stern. 

"One stop."

"I know." You sighed, giving up on the act.

You then moved past the man, not wanting to stay any longer under his scrutinising gaze. It wasn't your fault you didn't have a ticket! This world didn't even exist!

Or- well, it shouldn't exist. But somehow, it did.

The door to the capsule in between carriages slowly opened as you approached, allowing you to step through and see Ladybug scouring through the shelves, looking for the briefcase he was assigned to retrieve.

"Oh, uh," as soon as he noticed you, he stopped his search; hand pausing where it was as his head faced you. "So, lady, wanna explain to me what was going on back there?"

"Oh, well... I was just making sure it wouldn't get into anyone else's hands, y'know?" You looked off to the side, wondering how you were going to get away with sneaking a gun on a train right in front of the main character, loaded or not.

"Uh huh..." he sounded skeptical - rightfully so, you would be too if this happened to you. "Why don't you let me hold onto it for ya?"

"Oh no, I couldn't possibly ask that of you."

He gave you another skeptical look and you found yourself recalling The Prince's line in the movie, what was it again..? Ah, yes, 'the innocent girl act doesn't get you far when you have a gun in your hands' or something along those lines.

"Look, lemme just-"

Before he could finish his sentence, you started to spin on your heel and swiftly turned around, making you way back to the carriage you just passed - the carriage housing both Lemon and Tangerine if you recalled correctly.

"Wait! Lady!"

You chose to ignore his calls, continuing to walk until you reached the movement-sensitive doors that opened up for you once more.

Before you completely left, though, you gave one more glance over your shoulder, so sure that he would follow straight after you. You were proved wrong, however, after seeing him pause and reach one hand up to his earpiece, eyes immediately averting from your form over to the shelf once again.

The Handler must've-

Just then, your chain of thoughts was abruptly halted by a collision against your front side. The surface you collided with was rather hard, if you did say so yourself - so hard, in fact, that it caused you to lose balance on your heels - body beginning to stumble before a strong pair of arms caught your form.

"Fuckin' 'ell. Do you mind-?" An irritated voice paused mid-sentence. "Woah, you alright there, love?"

The familiar cockney accent had your heart beating right out of your chest and your head tilting up to peer through the ring of your sunhat and meet eyes with your favourite character himself.

Holy shit, Tangerine just caught you.

The Tangerine.

You could die (again) happy.

Dear lord. This was like all those scenes in those romance movies you would watch with Lena; the ones where the female lead would get caught in the male lead's arms and they would get lost in the endless pools of one another's eyes, drowning in the moment as time seemed to stop around them. 

Just the thought that you were having that moment with Tangerine, your favourite character ever, was enough to fluster you beyond belief as a small, bashful smile stretched over your lips.

"'ang on..." he rose a brow, staring into your eyes with such intensity, you almost fainted then and there. "You're the girl whose 'at I caught."

"Yep, that's me." You let out a small, nervous giggle. "Sorry about bumping into you, I wasn't quite looking ahead of me."

At your words, his eyes trailed behind your form, furrowed with that irritated expression that seemed to never leave his face. "What? Is some fuckin' creep following you or something? You look worried."

"Oh no, not at all!" You quickly drew his attention away from Ladybug, not wanting to interfere too much with the movie's plot. "I'm just really clumsy. It's really hard to walk around in heels, haha."

"That so?" He rose a brow at your words but chose to press no further.

Instead, he slowly helped you back up onto your feet and you were so sure he would've left the interaction at that but you didn't want it to end so quickly. Call you selfish but, was it really too much to ask for your favourite character to stick around a little more with you.

So, in hopes of keeping him around for just a little longer, you winced and he immediately took notice.

In all his gentlemanly glory, he clutched your arms tighter and helped lead you over to the set of seats that were completely empty, aiding you in sitting down by helping to gradually lower your body.

Meanwhile, Lemon and the White Death's son both stared at you incredulously.

"Just... sit 'ere, yeah? 'Think those things may have twisted your ankle or something."

He was referring to your heels.

"Thank you, mister..?"

"Tangerine." He introduced himself before jabbing his thumb out towards his brother. "'E's Lemon."

You nodded, parting your lips before hesitating for a second. Should you give your real name? Everyone in the movie went by aliases, not a single real name was disclosed - other than Kimura, of course. 

Then again, the reason they went with aliases in the first place was so that they couldn't have their personal information disclosed in the crime world. You literally had no personal information to your name.

Ah, fuck it.

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you Tangerine, Lemon." 

The Brit then turned towards the Russian seated at the other window.

"See? She knows not to question it."

After that, he gave you a brisk nod and resumed taking his seat on the opposite end of his brother and the mob boss' son once more.

"Right, your daddy hired us to get you out of the trouble what you got yourself into, didn't you, naugh'y boy?" Tangerine smirked as he taunted the boy.

His words damn near drew out a chuckle from your lips had you not restrained yourself enough. One slip of the tongue and you could be regarded as a threat by the 'twins' (a debatable title), and you did not want to be seen as a threat to the people who ended up sawing the limbs off a dozen of the White Death's men in Bolivia.

So, to fully ensure that no suspicion was instilled your way, you turned your head to the side, facing the window that sped by the land of Japan at high speeds, providing a vivid yet beautiful view of the country. 

But that didn't matter to you, all you cared about was the reflection of the three men in the glass - looking exactly like they did in the movie. This way, if their comments brought about a smile on your lips - they wouldn't be able to tell you were eavesdropping.

It was such a shame that you missed out on Lemon's tangent about Thomas the Tank Engine though.

"Why, uh, why Tangerine though?" The Son asked, bringing you straight out of your thoughts.

"Oh it's a sophisticated name." Lemon answered.

"Oh, fuckin' 'ell. It's not impor'ant, is it?" Your favourite cut in, looking as annoyed as ever. "What is impor'ant are the seven'een dead bodies we left getting you back from the triad that kidnapped you with plans to ransome you to your extremely psychotic, fucked-up father."

"Actually, it's sixteen." His brother corrected him. Although, he himself wasn't correct since he wasn't counting that one innocent person they killed.

"What's that now?"

"Sixteen kills, mate."

"Oh no, it was seventeen."

"Iiiit's sixteen." Lemon drawled out.

"Lemon, you're starting to get on my fucking tits." Tangerine scowled and you almost let out a giggle as you watched them bicker back and forth.

"It's sixteen."

"I'll smash my fuckin' 'ead through a brick wall."

"Well maybe that'd help your memory 'cause it was sixteen."

"The fuck is wrong with you, man?! It was seventeen goddammit," Tangerine slammed his hand against the table before continuing, "I wanna fuckin' strangle you-"

"Do you mind if we do this right now?" Lemon turned to the Russian male sat beside him.

"Don't worry about him-"

If you remembered correctly, now would be the time where they showed a montage of what happened with Lemon and Tangerine before they entered the train with the White Death's Son.

The montage was funny to watch but Lena begged to differ, scowling at each and every thing they did on screen; loathing the corpses they left behind and the way they carelessly killed other people as if she didn't-

-ah, what were the characters saying again?

"Our job is to keep you safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransome money inside." You heard the character with the face of ATJ say as he looked off to the side, eyes seeming to search for something and growing more frantic the longer he couldn't find it. "And I plan on completing my job and keeping-

"Lemon." He interrupted himself as he called to his brother, pupils stopping their wandering around to land on the other man.

"Hmm?"

"Where's the briefcase?"

"Oh I stashed it."

A pause.

And then, Tangerine placed both of his hands on the table, fingers intertwined with one another. "The case, Lemon. Go get me the fucking case."

The broader male got up to do just that, leaving the two other males on the table alone. You could practically feel the stress seeping from the male with a cockney accent.

"You're a liability, you know?" The Son spoke up again. "To my father."

"Hm?" The Brit left at the table perked his head up.

The Son leaned in, facial expression hard to decipher through the glass - but it wasn't like you needed to, after all, you watched the movie a dozen times before. "He doesn't need a reason to kill people like you, he needs a reason not to. Does he have one?"

The assassin paused for a minute, giving the other male a weird look before opening his mouth as if to respond. Before he could though, his phone went off and he reached for it - though, not without uttering one last sentence. "That's fucking confusin'."

He then picked up the phone and gave his greeting before the male on the other side asked him for The Son, if you recalled correctly.

"What? You mean this dickhead with the silly face tattoos? Yeah, he's sat right here."

Ah, so you were right. Of course you were.

"Yes, of course..." the male continued after a pause, leaning backwards and peering to the side to see Lemon's form stressing over the fact that, unbeknownst to him, Ladybug had stolen the briefcase. Once Tangerine saw, however, the confidence in his tone fell and his voice wavered as he continued, "...I've got the case..."

He kept the phone up to his ear for only a few seconds after as his eyes furrowed and a flicker of realisation crossed over them before the phone in his hand slowly lowered to his side.

After ending the call with one of the White Death's men, he strutted over to the capsule his brother entered - the way he walked almost made a squeal pass out of your mouth - the straight line across his lips, the furrow of his brows, the way he fixed his collar; it was all so smooth, you couldn't help but want to swoon. 

Once he left though, your rose-coloured lenses slowly paved way for you to finally see the bigger picture; to understand fully what sort of a predicament you got yourself into.

Your life could be in great peril (once again) because of one specific character that was on her way to this very carriage to kill the White Death's son himself...

...The Hornet.

I just love that Tangerine apologises for swearing in front of a lady before going ahead and doing it again haha

Next Act

Saviour Complex (II)

Yandere! Tangerine X Reader

Act 1 | Act 2 | Act 3

Synopsis: One night, you're pushed straight into an incoming train, causing everything to go black. When your eyes open up once more, you find yourself in a completely different country and face-to-face with your favourite character whose demise was right around the corner. Too attached to the man, you find yourself hatching a plan to save him - unaware of the consequences.

Word Count: 7,232

Act 2 - A Quest to Die For

The Hornet was yet another assassin that boarded the train. She was able to infiltrate by dressing up in a large costume of Momonga, a popular Japanese cartoon character in the movie - it even had a whole carriage dedicated to it on this bullet train; a carriage which indirectly caused the death of the White Death's son by basically giving The Hornet a free pass onto the train. But, what can ya do?

Speaking of The Hornet killing the White Death's son, this was the exact scene where that occurred. Now, in the original scene, the seat you were in was empty - making it so that there was no possible way for any witnesses to chance upon the poison being stabbed into the Russian's neck - thus, nobody else had to die.

Now though, you were on the other side of the carriage, sat at the seats which were supposed to be vacant - making it so that you would most likely witness the murder and - knowing The Hornet - she would get rid of you too.

You had absolutely no chance against poison made to make your blood congeal, clogging your veins until you bled out from your eye sockets and every other hole in your body. Crimson substance gushing out of your mouth as you desperately tried to choke out your last words, regret for-

-nevermind. You had other fish to fry right now; the biggest fish at the moment being The Hornet.

You could always escape this carriage but that would make you look supremely suspicious to both Tangerine and Lemon.

Picture this, a girl you just met on this very train ride was sat near the person you were meant to protect for this very train ride. You then go off with your brother, leaving both of them alone for a few moments. Once you come back, the person you wanted to protect was bleeding out of his eye sockets and the girl you just met was now gone.

Yeah... not a very good look, huh?

But... you digressed.

Now... how were you going to get yourself out of this one? 

Leaving was a definite no-go. Staying was also risky but at least that way, you wouldn't lose Tangerine's trust if you played your cards right.

You just had to figure out a way to keep The Hornet from killing you too.

A puff of air left your mouth. This was very different to all those times in the past where you had to get yourself out of a very tricky situation. Back then, it was as quick as 'bang!' and the problem was gone. Maybe you should-

-no, no you shouldn't.

How could you even think of doing such a thing?

You swore to yourself- you swore never to do it again.

Bang, a noise reverberated in your head.

The first time you heard it caused a loud ringing to echo not long after, drowning out the rest of the world and zooming straight into the liquid splattered against your face; the liquid that stained your hands.

You couldn't bare to look at yourself in the mirror the next week, too haunted by the vision of the red that covered your hands and face. Every time you caught a glimpse of yourself, it was there, poignant and prevalent as ever.

Bang.

The second time you heard it wasn't as bad as the first - there was still a ringing, but it wasn't so loud; so quick to drown out the world around you. No - instead, it was just there in the background - persistent but not as provoking.

You still couldn't fathom looking at yourself in the mirror but at least the constant view of red splattered across your form had died down, slowly ebbing away from the confines of your mind.

Bang.

The third time was the most terrifying. Not because the ringing came back, or your hands that went from being slightly stained with blood to completely soaking in it - no. 

It was because you were so unbothered by it; as though you were getting used to the feeling; as though you were just accepting it as it was... as though you were learning to live with it.

The thought was horrific.

The thought terrified you.

And then, just like that- it was gone. No ringing, no red in the mirror - no nothing. Not even a single thought about how scary it was to think that way.

It was just all gone...

When you tuned back in to the movie, to this reality, you noticed a large form approaching this carriage - a large form belonging to a certain Japanese cartoon character. 

Your eyes widened as your chest heaved up and down at a more rapid rate, visions of the wedding scene with all the guests throwing up blood having flashed through your mind in that exact moment.

In an act of quick thinking, you tipped your sunhat over your eyes - careful not to have the gun fall out - before leaning your head against the window and steadying your breath as much as you could.

Hopefully, she'd buy the act.

The squeaks of her voice slowly grew louder as she approached, probably waddling her way over to The Son.

Then, the faint sound of skin pushing against fabric let you know that she was right next to him - probably about to inject him with the poison.

Your prediction was, once again, proven to be correct as muffled screams made their way over to your ears alongside a 'shhh' coming from a large costume that was right beside you.

A lump formed in your throat and you tried very carefully to gulp it back down.

Even as her squeaks faded away, you chose not to remove the sunhat from your head. Again, patience was key in moments like these. You couldn't drop your act until you were absolutely sure that you wouldn't get caught.

So you waited.

And soon, you heard two pairs of footsteps followed by a voice.

"Right, so, slight change of plans-

-ho!"

A pause.

Then another voice piped up.

"First his wife, now his son? That's a lot o' white deaths."

Ah, this was the scene where Tangerine and Lemon happened upon the body right?

If you recalled correctly, they should-

"'Ang on a minute." Tangerine said.

-huh? That line wasn't in the movie.

After that, he went silent, and you wondered what he was doing...

...that was, until, you felt the pressure on your head start to shift as your hat lifted up ever-so-slowly.

A light gasp left your lips as your hand shot up to clasp the ring as hard as you could, stopping it from moving any further before your head tilted up and your eyes met with that beautiful blue you were so fond of.

"Tangerine?"

"You alright there, love?" He rose a brow, placing one hand on your shoulder and causing the area to immediately feel all warm and tingly.

"Uhh, yeah." You desperately tried to restrain yourself from looking over at the hand he placed on your shoulder, not wanting to make it seem like you were uncomfortable - if anything, you were the complete opposite. "Did something happen?"

You found your gaze naturally trailing to the side, about to land on the bleeding eyes of the White Death's son. You were unable to do so, however, when your vision was blocked by your favourite character himself. He quickly sat down beside you, taking both of your hands in his own and unknowingly causing your heartbeat to spike up as your stomach fluttered from both the proximity and the contact.

"No, nothin' happened." He denied your words. "I was just worried about you is all. You 'ad a bit of a fall earlier, didn't you? Just wan'ed to make sure you were alright from it."

He was lying. You knew he was.

He was just trying to draw your attention away from the dead body on the other side of the train as his brother quickly dealt with making it seem like the guy wasn't dead.

You knew he was lying and yet, you couldn't help the warmth that flooded through your veins at his words.

"Oh... that's uhh, really nice of you." You looked to the side, gaze softening as a smile tugged onto your lips and your resolve for being on this train, your desire to save your favourite character, strengthened.

When your eyes returned to his form, you saw the softened look on his face and damn was it enough to make you melt.

Soon enough though, he cleared his throat and got up; quickly wiping the soft expression off his face.

"Well, if that's all, love."

You frowned, missing the feeling of his hands in your own. But... the show must go on, no?

He then turned to his brother and said, "we gotta make sure he doesn't step a foot off this train. You see the case? Deal with 'oever 'as it."

"Alright." Lemon responds. "How do I do that? Talk to 'im? Or like, talk to 'im." The second time he said 'talk', he opened his coat up by the slightest amount and reached a hand inside - no doubt signifying he was reaching for his precious gun.

Tangerine gave him an incredulous look before saying, in a tone leaking with sarcasm, "I dunno. Why don't you tell him about the story about how Gordon met Percy and how Percy's now bleeding from his fucking eyesockets!"

After he spat the sentence out, he immediately took off - going down one side of the train in hopes of catching the criminal who's so incredibly lucky, it was unbelievable sometimes.

With one last comment, Lemon went the opposite direction just as the train stopped.

Now... what were you going to do?

It wasn't until quite a while later that Tangerine's death scene would come up, you should probably spend this time planning on how you could prevent it.

Before you planned on preventing it, you had to recall how exactly it happened.

It was right after Tangerine got a call from one of the White Death's men warning him of what would happen if he made it to Kyoto; telling him that he would die as soon as the White Death got his hands on him.

Then, he entered the same carriage as The Prince and she put on an act to trick him into thinking she was an innocent girl. It worked at first. But then, he saw the sticker that Lemon put on her back.

See, Lemon was a huge fan of Thomas the Tank Engine. He often compared people to the characters in the show, hence why he was so good at reading people (or so he claimed). He always carried stickers of the characters in the show with him.

One of these said characters was Diesel. The worst of the bunch, a guy who always took it too far - the character you had to watch out for.

And that was also the very same character stuck onto the back of The Prince.

Thanks to his brother, Tangerine knew that Prince wasn't all who she made herself out to be and, because of his newly-gained knowledge, he put a gun to her head. 

Unfortunately, just as he was about to pull the trigger, Ladybug stumbled into the carriage and lunged for the gun after Prince acted, once again, like an innocent girl scared for her life. As the two struggled for possession of the weapon, a 'bang!' reverberated through the air...

...and then, blood sprayed out of the neck that belonged to your favourite character as he choked out a warning, trying his best to inform Ladybug of the deceptive individual he was trying to protect.

You still remembered screaming out a 'no!' when you first watched it, upset that your favourite character had just died. You didn't cry though - at least, not until later on; when Lemon stumbled upon the body, to be specific. The sight of the broader male seated beside the dead body of his brother as the slow, mellow song echoed in the background was just too much and, before you knew it, the tears cascaded down your cheeks like a waterfall.

You couldn't let it happen now that you had the opportunity to stop it; you wouldn't let it happen.

You were going to save Tangerine.

The only problem was: how were you going to do that?

His death was a complete accident, Ladybug didn't mean to pull the trigger; he wasn't trying to. 

How on Earth were you supposed to prevent an accident like that from occurring?

Maybe you could prevent Tangerine from ever approaching The Prince in the first place?

Before you could ponder on any further strategies, the sudden need to relieve yourself overwhelmed you.

A full bladder? Dammit, when was the last time you went to the toilet?

With a deep sigh laced in frustration, you pushed yourself up abruptly, grumbling under your breath about your human limitations as you awkwardly scooched out of your place between the seat and table.

Once you were fully stood up, your hands rose up to the ridge of your hat and you gave it a firm tug, fixing its place on your head as you felt a slight movement from the cold material laying under it. Once you were sure the weapon was secure, you started to walk down the aisle - heels clicking against the floor as you rushed out.

As the doors opened to the capsule between your carriage and the next one, your eyes flitted over to the toilet stall, cursing as you saw the colour red near the lock.

Occupied.

This went on for the next few carriages.

Then, you happened upon something.

"I didn't realise I was gettin' a babysitter to come cut my bollocks."

It was Tangerine, taking yet another warning call from the White Death's men.

"I'm a professional. We're making sure the case and his son are perfectly safe.

"Can I please go do my job now?" He continued and, if you recalled correctly, went on to cut off the man before he could continue speaking, with a tone heavy in sarcasm. "Oh, very kind of you. Thank you very much."

He then hung up the call before looking to the side and fixing himself up in the mirror - something which would have normally made you laugh had you not been bursting for the toilet.

It was then that he noticed Ladybug hidden in a side room and jumped.

"Fuck me! Jesus Christ." He cussed, placing a hand over his chest.

Ladybug then decided to pipe up with an unnecessary remark. "It's very rude talking on the phone, on the train. In Japan."

"This rude enough for ya, ya fucking prick?" He then pulled the curtain shut as harsh as he could. "Shove that fuckin' hat up your fuckin' arsehole, you 'ear me?"

He then turned around again and jumped once more when his eyes landed on your form.

"Fuck me! Fuckin' 'ell, again?!

"How long have you been standing there, love?" He continued.

"Long enough... look, I don't really care about what you, uhh, were on about." You confessed as you tilted your head to the side, eyes fixed on the stall behind him. "I just... need the toilet so, if you don't mind..."

"Oh, of course." 

He moved to the side, allowing you to finally gain access to the room you'd been needing for a while now.

You immediately wasted no time in rushing right inside, closing the door behind you and locking it before you went about your business.

Once you were done, you cleaned up and washed your hands before stepping out of the stall with a relieved sigh.

Now, you had two options here. You could either, a, go back to the carriage you came from - or, b, explore the train a little so that you could detect anything that may be able to help you in your quest.

On one hand, if you explored the train, you could stumble upon the perfect solution to your problem. On the other hand, this was a train filled to the brim with assassins that weren't opposed to killing you to get that one silver briefcase. You were too out of practice to risk it so, going back to your seat it was.

With a little sigh, you headed off - footsteps lighter than before as a sense of calm fell over you.

That sense of calm, however, was soon to be overridden by pure shock as soon as you entered a certain carriage containing a bar filled to the brink with alcoholic beverages and two people stood by the dead body of The Wolf.

"Oh shit." You whispered. "Wrong way."

Who was it that you stumbled across? Well, the very Diesel herself, The Prince.

The Prince narrowed her eyes at you before she turned to Kimura and ordered, "kill her."

"Are you fucking crazy?!" The Japanese man widened his eyes in disbelief.

"I don't suppose you want your son dying, do you?" 

The way she said the words so nonchalantly was enough to send a shiver straight down your spine. Seeing her in the movie was unsettling enough but seeing her act this way in real life? Damn, Joey King did an amazing job.

You couldn't spend too long praising the actress, however, as soon, the barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your head and Kimura was mumbling something with an apologetic look on his face. He was saying sorry in Japanese.

Ah shit.

Quick to react, you bent over backwards just as he pushed down on the lever of his gun - simultaneously causing a loud 'bang!' to reverbrate through the room.

The bullet managed to just barely graze your stomach, forming a cut which leaked red.

"Hm, interesting." You couldn't see her face but judging by her tone and whatshe just said, she was intrigued. "Are you one of the assassins the White Death hired?" 

You chose not to respond - instead opting to flick your feet upwards and collide your heels against Kimura's hand, kicking the gun out of his grasp and sending it flying through the air. You then used the momentum to flip upright once more, one hand reaching up to your hat to help stabilise it again.

Crouching down, your fingers stretched outwards, grazing the handle of the gun before flinching back as your heart beat picked up its speed.

Now was not the time for a mental breakdown.

With that thought it mind, your feet pushed your body up once more before you swiftly turned on your heel and made your way out of the carriage, gone just like the wind.

You rushed down the right way this time, eyes barely present in real time as they flashed through the events that just occurred to you.

You just had an encounter with The Prince and Kimura - and you were lucky that it was them and not The Hornet.

The Prince had no combat capabilities whereas Kimura was well-versed in it but had enough morale to not attack you back there.

You were so lucky to have run into those two of all the people you could've ran into.

"Note to self: be more cautious of the layout of the train." 

Soon, you stepped through the automatic doors that led to your carriage and, not too long after that, your eyes landed on two forms - one of which was caught in a headlock by the other.

This was the Ladybug and Lemon fight scene.

And it seemed like it was just coming to an end judging by how Ladybug was able to thrust his legs into the seat opposite him, escape Lemon's grasp and then grab his laptop and smash it against his head, instantly knocking him out.

It all happened so much more swiftly than it was depicted in the movie and you had to blink twice before properly processing what had just happened.

When you tuned back in to the world, you witnessed Ladybug adding the powdered substance to the Fiji water near Lemon and decided to approach.

"Woah, what are you doing man?"

Slowly, his gaze trailed upwards and his eyes landed on your form before they slightly grew in size.

"It's not what it looks like? Actually, it's probably exactly what it looks like."

A glint of amusement shone in your eyes as your lips twitched upwards. In order to fight back the smile that was inching onto your face, you had to take in a huge gulp of air before letting it out after holding it in for a few seconds.

Once you regained your cool, you continued speaking. "It seems like the tables have turned."

He gave you his own smile, sheepish and clumsy; full of awareness of the fact that he was just caught red-handed.

"So, what are you doing, big guy?" You asked, amusement laced in your tone.

"Look, I'm just trying to survive, okay, lady?" 

"I have a name y'know? It's Y/N."

"Nice to meet you, Y/N." He nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm Ladybug."

You already knew that but-

"Nice to meet you too."

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take a call." He took the cartridge out of the gun in his hands, eyes zoomed straight in on it.

"What are you doing with that gun?"

"Not keeping it for later use, that's for sure." He gave you a pointed look as he stashed the gun on the shelves at the top of the train.

"Touché." 

You then watched as he took Lemon's phone and used face ID to unlock it. Stupid that it worked even though the owner was unconscious but whatever.

After he checked the texts on the phone, he left in an abrupt panic - no doubt having seen Tangerine's texts informing Lemon that he was on his way.

That left you with Lemon's unconscious body laid against the table.

Now, you would slap him to get him to wake up but then he would immediately slap you back and you weren't too keen on getting slapped by a male with ten times your muscle mass. So, you simply stood there, one hand up to your chin with a half-contemplating, half-concerned expression on your face.

It was then that you heard footsteps to your side. You knew who it was so you didn't bother looking over, choosing, instead, to simply say, "he's only unconscious - not dead."

Tangerine rushed over, grabbing his brother's chin and lifting his head to observe his injuries. "Jesus Christ, he's 'ad a bit of a bosh, 'asn't 'e?"

His eyes then turned to you before slowly trailing downwards and landing on your abdomen.

You rose a brow. "What are you-?"

Before you could even react, he was no longer beside his brother and the sudden feeling of his rough, calloused hands against your own bare skin had your own gaze falling down as you caught sight of your newly-attained cut.

Oh right, you forgot about that.

"What 'appened?" He asked without straying his gaze from the slit in your clothes.

You were about to respond but winced instead when he pressed down further on the wound. He then slowly removed his fingers and you saw the blood that coated them; your blood.

"I, uhh, just fell on a really sharp rail, that's all." You dismissed his concerns.

"A really sharp rail? It must've been sharp enough to cut a fuckin' dick off, dahlin', 'cause that's a deep cut."

"It's not that deep."

The look he gave you after your words was the same look your sister gave you before you set off to work; the look that told you that they found what you just said utterly ridiculous.

He then guided you towards a seat, gently having you sit down before facing him as he crouched down - observing the wound with squinted eyes. 

Meanwhile, you held in your breath at the close proximity, hyper-aware of the fact that his hands were firmly clasped around either side of your waist, holding you with a sense of care running across his fingertips; a sense of care which prevented him from harming you. Just the thought that a guy like this, someone known for his aggressive demeanour and bad temperament, could handle someone like you, someone who he just met, with such gentleness was enough to cause your stomach to flutter.

You watched as he took out a handkerchief from his inner pocket, rapidly striking it through the air several times before carefully moving it over your stomach and pressing down a little too hard.

"Ack!"

"Ah shit." He cussed. "Sorry, love."

You just bit your lip and nodded.

After a few more pats against your skin, he pulled the cloth away.

It was clean, yes, but it wasn't covered - no bandaid to barricade the bood inside your skin or alcohol used to fully sterilise it. But, to be completely honest, you were just lucky that he cared enough to even treat your wound in the first place. He was an assassin, not a medic for crying out loud.

"Thank you." You breathed out, voice barely even a whisper.

He looked up, lips merely millimetres from your own as his breath mixed in with your and the hair that rested atop his upper lip just barely tingled against your skin.

If you moved even a little bit closer, your lips would meet.

Unfortunately, the moment was ruined after he pulled away and cleared his throat, a tiny hint of red on his cheeks. "Yeah, well, I'd be a right dickhead to ignore a lady's wounds like that."

You pouted - he was a right dickhead for pulling away like that. What a tease.

He then parted with a brisk nod of his head, on his way to go find Ladybug if you remembered correctly. Too bad he wouldn't be able to after the male pays another guy to wear his hat and deceive the assassin.

You heaved out a sigh before leaning backwards, back falling against the window seat as your gaze shifted to the roof, eyes half-lidded in contemplation. Now that you relieved yourself and got away from The Prince and Kimura, you should finalise your plan to save Tangerine.

The scene just before his death shows him discovering the 'dead' body of his brother before receiving a threatening call for the nth time from his employer, causing him to grow agitated even further than before. This would make it so that if you wanted to stall him from finding The Prince, you would risk causing him even further annoyance and cause his feelings for you, whatever they were, to turn into utter loathing. Now, you wished you could say you didn't care so long as he survived but that wouldn't be true at all. You cared; very much so. He was your favourite character, after all - why wouldn't you care about how he felt for you?

You supposed you could stall Ladybug instead? Yeah, that could work.

But 'could' isn't sure enough. It's a word that implies whatever it's referring to has a possibility of working; you couldn't afford possibilities, you could only afford a hundred percent chances of working.

Just then, your hat shifted a little on your head and, with it, came the feeling of cold metal sliding down.

Your eyes lit up as an idea came to mind.

That's right! Your unloaded gun! As a back-up plan, you could swap out your gun for Tangerine's - that way you knew for sure he wouldn't be able to be shot in a tangle with Ladybug.

The only problem with that plan, though, was that the both of you had two different models of guns; he had a revolver whereas you had a pistol. How was he not going to notice the difference?

If you were lucky, the hysteria he goes into after finding his brother's dead body would be enough to cloud his judgement and you could slip the gun in grasp no problem.

You just needed to hope he wouldn't notice - at least, not until they actually pulled the trigger and nothing went off.

You let out another sigh and, quite abruptly, you felt something brush against your legs as a breeze flew over your form; forcing you to sit up in order to see what the cause of it was. You then caught sight of blonde hair disappearing down the carriage - blonde hair no longer covered by a grey hat. It's not too long after that you turn your head in the opposite direction after hearing the automatic doors open and reveal the frustrated form of Tangerine.

His brows were furrowed and one of his arms was covered by his suit draped over it. His previously slicked-back hair was now messier than before, giving him more of a roguish look. 

There was no doubt in your mind that your eyes turned into huge hearts as you gazed at him, lips pulling upwards into a large, dreamy smile that you were quite lucky he took no notice of - instead, making a bee-line towards his brother and slapping him awake while also earning himself, as you recalled, a slap straight back.

Tangerine then took a seat beside the broader male before raising one of his hands and rubbing it under his nose to check for blood. After confirming there wasn't any, he gave Lemon the side-eye before saying, "there 'e is."

"He got by me."

"Yeah, me too... I guess our best option now is, uhh, bring the White Death the man who killed 'is son."

Lemon turned to the other male, shaking his head. "Yeah, but glasses didn't do it."

You would've loved to continue watching their banter (those scenes were actually among your favourite ones in the movie) but a thought occurred to you; a thought which caused your whole form to freeze up and a chill to go down your spine.

When Tangerine went towards the carriage Ladybug was in, he discovered a bunch of suitcases blocking his way - forcing him to shoot them through a Momonga teddy so that he could get through without alerting passengers. When he did this, he released the Boomslang snake - the very snake whose fangs contained the venom that caused the death of the White Death's son. And now, that deadly thing was let loose in the train to freely roam and bite whoever it wanted.

Great, now on top of your quest to save your favourite character, you had to also look out for a dangerous snake that could take your life.

You let out a sigh before tuning back into reality, noticing Tangerine's form sat opposite and facing his brother on the other set of seats.

"We need to find that glasses twat like right-to-the-fuck now." He scoffed before letting out a long, drawn-out groan. "I'm gonna go up, you go down. Double back when you're done. If you see him, fuckin' deal with him, yeah?"

Ah, so they just 'tricked' the White Death's men at the station you just passed into thinking his son was alive, huh?

The both of the brothers looked from side-to-side before Tangerine said, "up is..?"

"That way." Lemon deadpanned before jutting his thumb in the direction towards the front of the train.

You watched as they both abruptly got up before Lemon started speaking once more.

"And look, be careful," you could barely control the smile trying to fight its way onto your face at the Lemon showed his brother, "something else is going on 'ere."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I still feel like there's a Diesel lurkin' about." Lemon looked from side-to-side.

"Swear to God, what'd I say?" Tangerine drew his brother's attention back towards him before repeating, "what'd I say? I said I'd fucki-"

"-shoot me in the face." His brother finished for him.

"Yeah, that's right."

"Thomas still taught me how to see people, read 'em for real."

"Yeah..."

"And I'm never wrong, am I?"

Your favourite character's gaze drifts to the side. "No."

"Glasses, he is not our guy."

"...okay." 

Tangerine didn't understand what his brother was on about now but you knew he would later find out exactly what he meant after coming face-to-face with The Prince.

You then witnessed your favourite assassin hand a gun to his brother. "Shoot first, come up with the answers la'er."

"Always do."

Lemon then took off, heading down the carriage before his brother called out to him again.

"Lemon."

"Yeah, man?"

"You be careful too."

The male with silver hair sent a wink his brother's way before continuing once more.

The moment brought you back to a time where you worried for your own sister's life after one particular job; a job which, for once, took away all of your carefree nature and replaced with an anxiety-ridden individual who couldn't even hold a weapon without shaking to the core. 

But... that was all irrelevant now. Your sister wasn't here and neither were you the person you once were back then.

So, with that thought in mind, you called out towards Tangerine - causing the male to turn your way with a raised brow.

"You're going towards the front of the train, right? Can I tag along? I'm feeling a little peckish right now and all the snack are at the front." You gave him a sheepish smile, one hand going to scratch the back of your head.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" He nodded, giving a little gesture with his finger before he began to walk.

You walked straight behind him, a smile showcasing all your joy spread right across your face.

"Hey, Tangerine?"

"Yes, love?" He gave a quick glance over his shoulder.

"You're such a gentleman, thank you for accompanying me." Your smile shined brighter, excitement from being with your favourite character seeping into your tone and into the hop in your step.

He sent you a soft look before nodding. "Of course, dahlin'. Can't leave a pretty lady like yourself alone, can I?"

He thought you were pretty...?

Your favourite character thought you were pretty?!

Did you die and get sent straight to heaven?

Uhh, well, maybe you could've?

No, wait, that was impossible. You'd done too much to go there.

"You're quite the looker yourself, y'know?"

He looked over his shoulder once again to send you a sly smirk. "That so?"

Suddenly, the intense look in his eye, partnered with that smirk he gave you, was enough for all of your confidence to flush down the drain as your gaze trailed to the side - unable to cope with the eye-contact.

"Oh, 'ere we are." His words caused you to look up and see that you were, indeed, where he wished to be. "I've got to stay here, dahlin', but the next carriage should be the snack one."

You gave him a brief nod before choosing to walk passed him, about to enter the next carriage before you casted one last glance over your shoulder to see his easy-going look had turned back into his agitated one as he faced the toilet.

Once you were in the carriage, you waited a little bit before you saw a certain blonde man enter after you. After he saw your form, however, he swerved behind you and peered over your shoulder.

It wasn't too long after that the brown-haired male emerged from the same door with a furious look on his face.

Ah, so you were being used as a hiding place?

Very well.

Tangerine's eyes laid on your form before they trailed behind you and landed on the other. After he saw his target, he took in a large amount of air through his nose.

"Look, love, I usually don't hit ladies but I won't fucking hesitate because I, for one, wanna keep my fucking limbs intact and I won't be able to if I don't get that fuckin' briefcase." The tall male glared down at you, pure rage boiling in his gaze, ready to spill over any second.

"Wow," Ladybug's voice chimed from behind you, "you'd hit a lady? That's a low blow, dude. Even for you."

"You fucking bastard." Scoffed the male with slicked-back brown hair in front of you, glaring at the blonde behind you with an intensity so harsh - you were sure that he would be a million feet under if looks could kill.

"Look," you raised both of your hands up as a small, nervous smile made its way onto your lips, "how about we settle this peacefully, yeah? I'm sure we can all talk this out."

"I agree with her." Ladybug piped in.

Then, Tangerine started slowly strutting over to you - facial expression shifting from the angered one he usually wore to a more neutral one you rarely got to see on him in the movie.

As he approached, you could feel your heart beat start to pick up both in pace and in volume - butterflies beginning to flutter around in your stomach with adamance.

Dammit, was now really the time for your stupid crush on him to be acting up?

Soon, he was stood right in front of you, face a mere centimetre away from your own.

And then, one of his hands rose up from his side, gradually approaching your face as two of his fingers extended out of his fist and slowly placed themselves under your chin; tilting your head up and causing a hitch in your breath.

"Love," he spoke quietly, calmly and in the smoothest voice you have ever had the pleasure of hearing. "Move aside and let me kill that fucking arsehole."

His breath mixing in with yours as the hair on his upper lip grazed your skin (for the second time that day) flustered you enough for you to pull out of his grasp and hide your head in your hands, hunching over slightly to do so. 

Fortunately for him, that slight hunch over was just what he needed to sock Ladybug right in the face.

"Agh! Fuck!"

And with that, their brawl continued.

Meanwhile, you decided to fully crouch down and shrivel in on yourself - too flustered to even think to stop the fight.

"Wait wait wait! I know who killed the kid!"

"I couldn't give a rat's arse, where's my fuckin' case?!"

They rolled carts straight into each other, hitting one another in the gut before grabbing jars and preparing to throw them at one another.

They both paused, however, when they heard the sound of the automatic door opening as a member of staff stepped in with a cart full of food.

After a moment of silence, you heard the woman ask if they wanted anything in Japanese.

"Oh no thank you, we're okay." Tangerine dismissed her with a little strained smile. 

"Oh I would love a bottle of water." Ladybug requested.

You felt a small smile crawl onto your face as you remembered the incredulous look Tangerine sent him after that sentence - no doubt finding it utterly ridiculous that he would ask for water in the middle of a fight.

"You know what? Do you have, uhh, anything sparkling? With bubbles?"

You heard glass clang as she rummaged through for exactly what he wanted.

"That's the one, thank you." And he proceeded to say 'arigato' in the worst-sounding Japanese you had ever heard in your life. "Bro, I just remembered I gave all my money to that guy to wear my hat and glasses."

Tangerine then let out a sigh, giving Ladybug a look that made you giggle as you peered through from your position.

"How much for the bo'le of wa'er, love?" He asked before she responded with a number and he gave her the money. "Yeah, no, your welcome. A thousand yen, that's ten quid for that bo'le of wa'er, mate."

She then proceeded to leave as Ladybug drank his newly-attained drink and you giggled some more.

"You sure you don't wanna talk this out?" He asked Tangerine to which he responded with-

"Not particularly, no."

"Okay."

He then swung the bottle straight at the other assassin, aiming straight for his head as it hurdled through the air. Before it could land, though, you shot up from your position on the ground, fingers lacing around the bottle and just about stopping it from hitting the man.

"Not," you said, "the face."

Tangerine gave you an appreciative look, which totally didn't make you squeal on the spot, before his expression shifted into one of pure rage and he charged at Ladybug, yelling cusses as he pushed him into the next carriage.

Meanwhile, you let out a sigh of relief. Well done you for saving the handsome facial features of ATJ.

Before you could wallow in anymore praises however, your eyes caught something moving in your peripheral.

Was that... the Boomslang snake?!

You screamed, rushing onto the other carriage and clinging onto Tangerine while he was in the midst of choking Ladybug.

Unfortunately, you had done this at the wrong time because it happened to be the moment where Ladybug hit the emergency button with his leg so that he could escape the grasp of the handsome assassin; the emergency button which caused the door to be ripped off the train, sending the three of you flying straight outside of it through the sheer suction of the wind.

And so now, here you were, clinging onto Tangerine's waist for dear life as you hung off the side of the train - the wind like blades against your skin.

Well, this was quite the predicament.

Tangerine says things he doesn't mean so don't take it to heart when he said he wouldn't hesitate to hurt you. He would do way more than hesitate.

Previous Act | Next Act

Yandere! Business man x Fem! Reader Word count- 1409 (proofread) [CW- stalking, obsessive behaviour, mild abuse insinuated, abduction, insinuated noncon acts,Stockholm syndrome]

5 Things he HATES about you

“There you are, walking without a care in the world. Hair billowing in the gentle wind like a halo atop your head, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes, bunny?

You hum to yourself, the beginning of a sweet song, and it sounds like honey to my ears. Any words that slip from those rosy lips tempt me to taste them. Sigh you have made a besotted fool out of me.

So why do you test me so bunny? When I have been nothing but oh so good to you?!”

I HATE THE WAY YOU MAKE MY HEART RACE~ He had been living a perfectly normal, uneventful life. Going about his daily routine, working, keeping to himself and his eccentric hobbies. But that morning, you had to spill piping hot coffee on him, ruining his tailored suit and mood. His jaw ticked and he looked up at the clumsy menace ready to give them an earful when he felt shaky little hands dabbing at his suit. She blubbered apologies, a flustered whimpering mess, and something in him shifted. The sight of the woman before him, reminded him of something pitiful. Like a small bunny. He dropped a few bills and instantly left the cafe, irritated at the way the coffee clung to his scalded skin. Why had he gone soft? Something definitely had shifted in him, and he soon realized what. His traitorous heart had shifted allegiances, thrumming for a woman it barely knew. This was an inconvenience, and he hated you for it.

I HATE WHEN YOU DON’T LOOK AT ME~ His hands furiously typed at the keyboard of his laptop, eyes trained on the woman fluttering about the cafe with a cheerful smile. Her hands were laden with trays of food and coffee. She made small talk with some customers, greeting the regulars so sweetly like she knew them personally. When she came up to his table, her smile tightened and her eyes dropped to her feet. A smirk sneaked its way on his face at her docile behavior, yet something irked him. ‘Why won’t you look at me the way you look at others?’ Although some petty part of him loved seeing you uncomfortable around him, he couldn’t understand why his hands itched to grab your chin and make you face him properly. ‘Screw the coffee I’d rather drink in the warm pool of those eyes’

WHEN YOU TALK TO HIM? YES, I HATE IT~ Her shift had ended hours ago. Had he got the schedule wrong? No…he had it memorized by now. Your home, every place you went to, some spots that you visited frequently? Yes, those were his favorite haunts too now. So when he hung by the dimly lit alley, and his eyes landed on you having an animated conversation with the guy that you worked with, his fists clenched at his sides. It had been pouring heavily, and here he was soaked to the bone, waiting for his bunny to leave so that he could see you walk home, but what did you do?! You were busy with another guy? See bunny, you should have known better than to talk to other men. Don’t you realize that you are naive and so innocent? They would use you. Stop hurting me and making me mad bunny.

I HATE THE WAY I CAN’T GET YOU OUT OF MY MIND~This has gone on for weeks. He has become a pilgrim visiting the cafe everyday religiously. So much so that even the regulars know better than to occupy the table at the farthest corner, with the best vantage point of the counter. Today is no different either, his eyes are preoccupied with their silent vigil, watching…appreciating, your lithe form moving between the tables delivering order after order. But he has changed. You have changed him. Gone is his need to uphold perfect appearances in crisp three piece suits. Rather these days he is like a foolish boy in love. Not mindful of what he is wearing or where he is. Nothing matters anymore. It’s only you, all you. His employees are worried about him being absent from work. But they don’t realize that if he doesn’t watch you every damn second of the day, he might lose his mind. Hell, he feels his sanity slipping slowly even when he’s near you. It’s not enough. Nothing is enough when it comes to you. Bunny, close doesn’t seem close enough, and THIS HAS GOT TO CHANGE. You’ll be mine and only mine. Soon.

I HATE WHEN YOU TRY TO LEAVE ME~ The ceiling is a little damp with a musty air lingering around the vicinity, due to the barred windows lining the basement. A plush bed sits in the centre of the bleak room, its soft rose colored sheets are a stark contrast to the abysmal grey of the room. The room is silent save for the occasional sob that escaped your mouth. Whenever a tear rolled down your face, it didn’t take a second before he was on you, gently cradling your face, as he wiped the stray tears with a tissue.

“Shhh bunny. It’s okay. Everything’s okay now. There…there” he cooed, his big hands combing through your lush hair, as he sat close to you. Your knees touched and you resisted the urge to flinch when he raised his hands to sweep your hair away from your face and gathered them into a ponytail.

He eyed you wearily as he clicked his tongue, looking at the big red handprint on your cheek. Gently he pressed an ice pack against your swollen skin and soon the ice was replaced by his warm lips. His breath fanned across your face, all mint and whiskey intoxicating you.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” He inquired in a low voice, his strong hands had easily scooped you up and placed you on his lap snaking his arms around you to pull you in an embrace.

But when you shook your head in answer, his hand grabbed your ponytail so tightly that it hurt. Yanking your head back to face him he smiled menacingly, “Did you forget already bunny? I want you to use your words to answer me, and I want you to look at me when I’m talking” he said. The dulcet tone of his warm voice was so soothing, a stark contrast to his vice like grip on your waist and hair.

If you listened closely, you could sense the worry in his voice, the slight tremor in his touches, and the way his eyes never left you. You didn’t want to, but you had started looking forward to the time he came home from work. The way he talked your ear off about the people at his company. The way he bathed and dressed you in the finest of clothes.The way he himself fed you, and asked his chef to cook the food that you especially loved. He had also changed the metal chains to softer bindings once you started to behave nicely. Once he started to trust you.

“I’m sorry bunny…” he said nuzzling your neck. Then turning your face with a slender finger he pressed feather-light kisses to your swollen cheek, muttering an apology after each kiss.

“Don’t make me do this bunny. You were doing so good. We were starting to trust each other didn’t we? What more do you want? I can lay the whole damn world at your feet darling, just say the word.” He laid you down on the bed and curled behind you, holding you close to his chest. You listened to his heartbeat, the sound eerily placating you. He was still wearing his work clothes. All pristine and proper in his three piece suit.

You giggled on the inside thinking only you got to see the madness that lingered behind those angel eyes.

He kissed the top of your head as he hummed a sweet lullaby, and you felt your eyelids droop.

“Sleep bunny. And banish every thought of leaving. You don’t want to see the monster rear its ugly head again, do you? You’ll stay right?” He asked deceivingly sweet.

“Yes”, you muttered, looking at him over your shoulder. A proud smile lit up his face, pointy canines flashing, that made him look boyish and ethereal in the dim lighting.

“Good girl. You’ll learn soon enough, that you’re mine. And there’s no place safer than my arms” he mumbled as the sleep finally overcame your senses.