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auroracalisto · 2 years

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don’t let them see you cry chapter eight, honey, it's alright | previous chapter — the handler—the very reason for your personal slice of hell. haunting your every move… in your sleep, during the slow hours of the day. the swedish brothers—should have been strangers who show up and show you that you are more than what she told you. you are more than your mind allows you to believe. and you—the very person who will end the misery that plagues your mind. word count: 2.5k words tw: love confessions?? is that a possible trigger?? the handler shows up in this. a/n: this is a bit of a shorter chapter, BUT, i wanted to let you guys know that i am alive and i plan on continuing this when i have the time!! between working and my master's program, i've quite literally just been trying to survive outside of the constant chaos that is currently my life. thank you for all of the love and support! i appreciate it so much. i also wanted to use this chapter as a way to move things forward!! hope it makes sense LMAO title is from the song by gregory alan isakov also i had already posted this on my ao3 like... a bit over two weeks ago

Just like the weeks before, the air was tense. However, now, it was because Axel was scared of saying something to upset you. He tread around you like he was stepping on broken glass at any given point. He already fucked up this much—he didn’t want to make things worse for you or for his brothers.

A part of him continued to berate him any time he saw you. But he almost wanted more. He wanted to be punished for the way he made you feel. Was that fair? To be punished for making you feel so alone in a world you were forcibly stranded in?

Axel was stressed. That much was obvious. Otto suggested finding a sauna somewhere, and lo and behold, there was one in downtown Dallas. Convenience wasn’t always the Swedish brothers' friend, but today, it was.

They left you alone, Oscar promising they would be back soon enough. Otto glanced at you, giving a faint smile before they left. Axel didn’t look at you, keeping his gaze on anything but your face.

You knew he felt guilty, and when he came back, you would talk to him. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t your fault, either. If anything, every problem you ever had can be traced right back to your mother. But he needed to know. You couldn’t allow him to continue living like this—angry with himself. With the fact he was only protecting the ones he loved.

How could you blame him for something like that?

It was simple—you couldn’t.

You knew you couldn't. Or at least, you wouldn't.

You sighed, collapsing onto the sofa. You stretched out, hands covering your face soon after. They would be gone for a few hours. You could get some stuff done before they returned, but at the moment, you wanted to do nothing more than relax in the comfort of your silent home.

A knock came from the sauna door, quick and repetitive—an all too familiar sound.

Axel stayed leaning against the wall, staring right at the door. Otto sat up straight, glancing towards Oscar who sat closest to the door.

Oscar’s eyes narrowed, fists clenched by his thighs.

And in walked the Handler. The one face each of them didn’t want to see.

The one face that caused more problems than any of them ever wanted to have… The very reason Axel can’t even look at you without feeling immense guilt.

“Hello, boys,” she said, a sickly sweet smile appearing on her lips as she walked in, towel wrapped around her body and hair done up as perfectly as ever. She walked over and sat near Axel, a sigh leaving her. “Enjoying yourselves, aren’t you?”

Not one of them answered her, but they had all turned their attention to her.

The Handler’s smile fell and her expression turned grim. It was obvious it pissed her off, even if she wouldn't say it.

“Surely, one of you will speak to me. Why the hell are you all taking forever? What is going on? It never takes you all this long for a mission," she said, fighting the urge to roll her eyes. These were her best soldiers. Could she be any more forgiving?

"The Commission has been more than lenient, but this is getting ridiculous,” she continued, crossing her arms over her covered chest.

“Don’t tell her anything,” Otto blurted, chest raising as he took in a deep breath.

Axel’s head shot in his direction.

Steam clung to the air like a cruel friend, making the awkwardness of it all even worse than it already was.

“What was that?” the Handler scoffed. “Really.”

No answer.

Silence joined the steam, choking the words out of Axel’s throat. Did he have to answer her? If they kept silent, would she just leave?

“How are your daughters?” Oscar nonchalantly asked, glancing over at the Handler. His face was unreadable.

Otto’s breath caught in his throat. What was he trying to do?

“Oscar,” Axel said, jaw clenched as he watched him. “Watch it.”

Oscar went to speak, but the Handler’s scoff stopped him.

“I’m sorry?” she asked, a laugh leaving her. “What are you talking about? I only have one daughter.”

Axel growled in his brother's direction. “He is just being stupid,” he said. “Pay no mind.”

Oscar narrowed his eyes at his eldest brother. What was the worst that could happen? Surely, the Handler knew. She couldn't just forget about her daughter, no matter how insistent she was.

“I only have one daughter,” the Handler continued, voice hard as she stood back up. “You three will complete the missions. Or else. Do not fail.”

She looked at each of them before she turned to leave, forcibly shutting the sauna door behind her.

She knew. She knew her daughter was there, to begin with. Oscar could tell as soon as the words left him—the way her body tensed, the way she reacted.

Axel waited until the Handler had left the room before he lunged towards his brother, grabbing at the back of his neck.

“What the fuck was that?”

“It’s nothing she didn’t already know!”

“Why would you say something? You’re going to get her killed!”

Oscar shoved his brother off of him, scowling. Axel’s shoulder dug into the chipped wood, his jaw clenching at the mild pain.

“She will not die! We will be with her. You act as if I did this impulsively.”

“You did, ” Axel growled, indignation flowing through his veins. His brother was far more brazen than he or Otto, but what the hell was this? Oscar had never done anything so foolish. You were in danger, now, and it was up to them to protect you (regardless of whether or not Oscar believed so, yet).

“I didn’t, ” Oscar spat, standing up from where he sat. “ The Handler knew. She knows . But now we know that she knows.”

“You are acting like a child, ” Axel said through clenched teeth. “ If you get her killed—”

“—I won’t get her killed.”

“If you do, I will never forgive you.”

Oscar paused, sucking in a deep breath.

Axel glared at him. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“It’s not 'nothing' ,” Axel scoffed. “ You do all this and all of a sudden, you have nothing to say? Spit it out, asshole.”

Oscar clenched his jaw. Did he make a mistake? Was he reading his brother all wrong? Was he hurting you more than he was helping you?

He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Do you love her?”

Axel sputtered, eyes wide. Was he hearing him right?

“Do I what?”

“You heard me.”

“I don’t know her well,” Axel defended himself, sitting on the edge of the wooden bench. His body was tense as if he knew where this was going.

“That’s not what I’m asking. Do you love her?”

Otto groaned and buried his face in his hands, his elbows digging into the meat of his thighs. What was Oscar getting at? This was ridiculous.

Axel didn’t say anything more, running a hand through his damp hair.

“I will not get her killed, ” Oscar repeated. “ The Handler knew she was here. We do the missions, we keep Y/n safe. It will be fine.”

“And if it’s not?” Otto interjected, completely and undeniably dismayed.

“We will make it okay. I will make it okay if you two won’t, ” Oscar said. “ You both act as if you don’t care for her. I see it. I see how much you care for her.”

Otto huffed through his nose, standing up. Instantly, he towered over Oscar. He said nothing, but Oscar could see right through him. He knew the truth. He pushed past his brother, leaving the heat of the sauna and heading toward the locker rooms.

Oscar looked back at his eldest brother.

Axel mumbled something, but it wasn’t anything he could hear.

“What?”

He repeated himself, and when Oscar just gave him a dumbfounded look, he sighed, getting to his feet.

“I do. I care for her. But you have only made her life harder.”

Oscar jutted his chin out defiantly, eyes narrowed. “I guess we will see.”

Axel shoved past his brother, storming off to the locker room. He was pissed, but he wouldn't allow himself to take it out on his brother. It was a mistake. Surely, Oscar meant the best.

When Oscar and Axel left the sauna, Otto was nowhere to be seen. Little did they know, he had hurried on home to you.

You were sitting in your living room, two of your cats that usually stayed hidden, Poppy and Steve, reveling in the love you were showering them with.

You were expecting the triplets to be home at any time now. And when you heard the door, you instantly turned your attention to it.

Otto stood there, alone.

A look of utter frustration had taken over his normally stoic face.

You blinked, slowly standing up. Poppy and Steve took off running at the movement, Poppy finding solace in the warmth of the knitted blanket you had placed on the side of the couch. Steve disappeared into the kitchen.

“Otto?”

Otto took his time coming in, shutting the front door behind him. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were looking anywhere but you.

You walked up to him, frowning softly. “What’s going on? Are you alright?”

He said nothing, reaching forward and wrapping his arms around your body. He held you tightly to his chest, and you returned the hug, confusion not far behind.

“I will protect you,” he said, a lump forming in the back of his throat.

Death never truly scared him, but when it came to his brothers, he always worried. And now, he’s realized that you have added that small list of people who would completely destroy him if you died.

You'd be the catalyst that drove him crazy... the poison that would end his life, if you were to leave, now.

You looked up at him, gently gripping onto his shirt. “Otto?”

“Please,” Otto tilted his head to face you. He was far taller, observing as you craned your neck just to look at him. “Please promise.”

“Promise what?”

Otto paused, frowning. What could he say without it being weird? Would it make you uncomfortable? In haste to get out some sort of answer, he chose the safest option.

“You will be safe.”

You cracked a faint smile. “I should be safe. I can promise that.”

That seemed to be enough for him as he pulled you back into his body, his chin gently pressed against the top of your head.

But he knew the truth. The Handler knew you were here—maybe she forgot and Oscar’s pestering only reminded her.

For now, he knew he and his brothers would keep you safe. Oscar, included, the stupid bastard.

As he looked down at you, watching as you hugged him back, his heart lurched in his throat. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he realized the truth he tried to keep hidden from himself for so long. He cared for you… and he wasn’t about to let the Handler ruin that for him or his brothers. She would die by his own hand if it came down to it.

Eventually, Otto pulled away from you, a hand gently coming up and brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Where are the others? Did you leave them behind?" you asked, a smile forming on your lips.

Otto sheepishly nodded. He had a hard time lying to you, no matter how small of a lie it may be.

"I made dinner, but I'd like to wait for them to get back. We could go sit outside? On the porch? It's nice enough," you said, taking ahold of his hand. "We could watch for them."

"You want to watch for them?"

"Why not?" you smiled, tilting your head. "It's getting dark out. Maybe we can watch the sunset."

That's one thing Otto never did. He never sat down and took things easy. He bit the inside of his cheek, giving you a small nod.

You tugged his hand, leading him outside with a grin. But before you could sit on your porch, Oscar bombarded you with a tight hug. You nearly jumped out of your skin, eyes wide as you looked up at the man.

Oscar was immediately grinning. "I missed your face," he teased, only pulling back when Axel grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him back.

"What happened?" you asked, looking between the two of them. "Did you get left behind?"

Axel raised an eyebrow while Oscar only smiled.

Oscar missed how happy you could be. He could only hope you stayed this way.

He glanced back at his brother, who remained silent. Axel wasn't about to spoil your mood... but he knew he would have to, at some point. He walked past the three of you, disappearing into the house. You watched as he left, a bit disappointed, but you said nothing about it.

Oscar placed a hand on your shoulder. "I'm going in. Need a shower."

You smiled and nodded, not stopping him.

As he left, you and Otto remained on the porch, alone with the sky painted with yellows and oranges and pinks.

Otto hesitated to place his hand on your shoulder, but he fought the need to. He kept his hand by his side, silence soon following.

You let out a sigh, running your fingers against the scars on your neck before you glanced back at him.

The Handler sat on the hotel room's red sofa, perfectly manicured hands wrapped around a champagne flute. A celebration, it was not. But she now knew what was keeping her prized assassins in the sixties far longer than she anticipated.

Her impetuous daughter.

She rolled her neck between her shoulders, a satisfying pop sounding throughout the room.

Death would meet her daughter soon enough—perhaps even sooner if she had any say in the situation (which she did). Your blood would be on her hands, no matter what. She would make sure of it.

The Handler downed the rest of her champagne, standing up and sitting the flute down on the mahogany coffee table.

Danger was coming for her daughter, and fast—the very one pulling the lever was the one person who should have always protected her.

It's a shame she never once had a care in the world for anything but herself.

The Handler glanced over her shoulder, staring at the unmade bed. She had only been here for the night, but she knew she would be staying here a little longer, now. If anything, it would be to see what the hell you were doing. Or rather, what you had done to make her best employees a shell of their former past.

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#the swedes #tua #tua otto #tua oscar #tua axel #the swedes x reader #don't let them see you cry #tua x reader #tua otto x reader #tua oswald x reader #tua axel x reader #x reader #reader insert #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy x reader #tua s2 #the swedes imagine #ikea mafia #ikea mafia x reader

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shiversdownyerspine · 2 years

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18. Kinesics

Psssssst. Here y’all go. :>

18+

Oscar sighs, tipping his head back as he presses his palm against the front of his pants, rubbing firmly. This is maddening, as maddening as it is invigorating.

Now that they can indulge in carnal pleasures with their lady of interest, he and his brothers find themselves a lot more energetic, their libidos more active. Still fully hard and twitching from earlier, Oscar frees his cock and wraps his hand around the base, stroking up to the head.

He and his brothers...because there's no fucking way he's the only one...have been imagining all the pretty places on you to stain after reaching completion. Places like your mouth, or your thighs...or your tits, filling his hands as you hold your blouse aloft in your mouth with bra pushed high...fuck, what a sight...but he won't act on these urges with you. No, they are all holding back.

Because while you have been embracing their amorous attention with an eagerness that thrills as much as it surprises...especially given your unfamiliarity with being a romantic partner, let alone a romantic partner to three...you still have an air of timidity about you. Take for example your alarm when you were underneath him on that sofa, skittish and scandalized at the thought of having an audience. Oscar groans at the thought, recalling your kiss swollen lips, red cheeks, and breathy sounds as he steadily pumps his cock. In his free hand he clutches a certain article of clothing that he knicked while the two of you were outside; his thumb sweeps over the cotton, enjoying the soft fabric as he eyes the rich dark plum color, imagining the matching panties under your calf-length skirt as precum trickles down to meet his curled fingers.

You're testing the waters, exploring, so him and his brothers all agreed that they'd practice restraint and let you act on your curiosities, wanting to ensure that you could build confidence in expressing your desires. They don't want to overwhelm you but there are so many things they want to do with you. To you. Oscar's hips buck, fucking up into the tight seal of his fist as he pants, replaying the way you'd pulled him down to your mouth by his collar with such urgency.

So what does this mean for them? Well, this means satisfying their lust in private until you take the reins. Just like he is, right at this very moment. The youngest Swede traps a long low groan in his throat behind grit teeth as he finally reaches his end and stains your underclothing, his cum standing out in bright contrast to the deep purple as he milks himself into the cloth until it's saturated to his satisfaction.

Needless to say, he'll be returning your bra to you after running it through the wash...right after one more round.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Face flushed, you hold a book in your lap as your other hand tries to scrub the red from a cheek while your lust replays the most recent indecent affair in your mind.

Burning passions had settled into a gentle simmer earlier with Oscar, the two of you lounging together comfortably on the sofa. Curious, you had wriggled to feign escape, enjoying the feel of him still hard between your legs before Oscar had sunk his weight on you a little more thoroughly. Being firmly pinned had sent a shock of exhilaration through your system that left you breathless, shuddering as he tucked his face further into your exposed neck to softly bite. It was enough to pinch but if he exerted a tad more pressure it'd bruise. His teeth lingered for a moment before releasing your skin, pulling away. "You are feeling better?"

Yes, you most certainly are.

"Good as new." You trailed your hand up his shoulder to the back of his neck, lightly scratching as a quiet rumbly groan tickled your ears. Oscar leaned in to nip your bottom lip before pushing himself up and off of you. He's such a...what's the word?...!

The blanket he playfully dropped on your head distracts you. Huffing, you squirm out from under its warmth to sit up and wrap the cover around yourself. Biter. That's the word.

Feeling a little miffed at his sudden departure, you questioned it, failing to realize the obvious. "Where are you going?"

Oscar turned back to you with a wicked smirk and a mischievous glint in his eyes. Under your adorably oblivious gaze, he dropped his hand to fondle his straining cock through his trousers, winking as your face burned red as a cherry.

"Want to watch?"

The pillow you chuck at him he deftly catches and tosses back to the furniture with a bark of laughter. He can practically see the steam coming out of your ears.

"Get out of here!"

To your relief, he does. But not without exuding his usual self-satisfaction the entire way to their guestroom.

Well, you certainly put your foot in it. Without waiting for the heat to fade from your face, you reached for the book that you'd left on your coffee table the other day. Resting it on your lap, you flip it open to the dog-eared page and continue where you'd left off.

Immersed in your literature, you're suddenly struck by revelation; one, you'd forgotten your pumpkin, and two, you were missing a piece of clothing. Feeling a bit embarrassed, you pull the blanket around you a little tighter and tilt your head in concern, eyeing the kitchen. It wasn't all that urgent, the pumpkin would be fine outside...but is your bra out there? When had it been removed?

Shifting in place to look around you on the sofa, there doesn't seem to be any hint of purple no matter how you search. You don't want to go outside again so soon, you just got warmed up! Well...at the very least you can look, because you specifically remember being on the patio when Oscar had his hands and mouth busy with you, so unless he flung it into the distance with reckless abandon, which you would definitely remember him doing if he had, you should be able to see if it's out there pretty easily.

With a sigh, you lift yourself from your cozy seat and pad to the kitchen to have a look through the window...

Nope, not a thing.

In that case, maybe he has it on him and forgot to give it back? You don't recall it being in his hands when you were outside...maybe when the two of you came back in you just didn't notice it. You'll ask him when he comes back. Confident that your underclothing hasn't been left to the mercy of harsh weather, you pluck a grape vine out of the fridge and pop a bit from its cluster into your mouth before hurrying back to settle in again on the sofa to wait for Oscar.

Or you would have, but the man in question has already returned and is lying on the furniture on his back, eyes closed in contentment. Resting the bowl of grapes on the coffee table with a soft clink, you twist off a grape to hold precariously over his peaceful face. "So...I have a question for you. Any idea where my bra went?"

Oscar opens his eyes and peers at your grim expression and 'weapon', lips twisting in amusement as he reaches slowly for your hand to grasp your wrist and adjust its positioning a little. "In washing. Got dirty, put it with mine".

Ah. Maybe he'd placed it on the patio table with the muddied pumpkin and it'd gotten grimy. At least he remembered to grab it up before you two went inside. Pleased with his answer, you thank him and drop the grape for him to catch in his mouth.

Chewing the juicy morsel, Oscar doesn't bother to hide his smirk.

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Sitting beside Oscar on the sofa with your book abandoned on the table, the two of you ruminate in contemplative silence.

"...Rigatoni..and...Macaroni?"

Oscar frowns, mulling it over. "Too wordy, too much."

Hm. Fair point, four syllables might be too many.

"Choklad and...Kaffe."

Pausing with a grape halfway to your mouth, you look to him curiously.

"Kaffe is coffee, choklad is...chocolate. Thing 1 is Kaffe..."

You grin, eyes sparkling with joy as you finish his sentence, "And Thing 2 is Choklad! I love it."

Oscar preens, rewarding himself with another grape before he reaches a hand to your face. Your Swedish was clumsy but not terrible, he wouldn't be surprised if being around him and his brothers has helped out a little. He taps a finger lightly against your bottom lip as he speaks the kittens' new names a little slower for you, trailing the pads of his fingers down your jaw as you carefully repeat after him, working on your enunciation.

As lunch time ends and evening rolls around, you find coaxing more words from Oscar proves to be a bit of a challenge as he takes your interest as an opportunity to flirt. You’d successfully wrangled a couple small words from him and he's finally relented and given you a simple phrase to try, ‘håll mig’. Alas, you’d failed to notice the scheming glitter in his eyes.

His arms were around you the second the final word left your lips, dragging you to sit sideways on his lap as your breath catches. Feigning indignation and demanding he tell you the phrase’s meaning, you place your hands on Oscar’s chest and push with a pout, keeping yourself away in case he’s planning on distracting you with kisses.

You’re seeking knowledge, you won’t be deterred!

Eventually he tells you that ‘hall mig’ means ‘hold me’, and as a reward you relax and let him pull you closer. The next couple words are easy, but when you ask what ‘kiss’ is in Swedish, Oscar presents you with a new challenge.

"Give kiss. Then I tell."

Ohhh no, you're not letting him get away with this so easily. "How about you tell me what 'kiss' is first. Then...we’ll see."

Oscar grins; you’re trying so hard to hold your ground but it won’t be long until you give in, especially with the way your eyes keep flicking down to his mouth. He softly squeezes your side when you bite your lip. "Nej. Give me kiss."

Trapped in more ways than one, you worry your bottom lip and drop your gaze to ponder your next action. You’re not going to lie, surrender really doesn’t sound that bad...

“Pussa.”

Heart jolting in your chest, you look up to see Otto standing behind the sofa. He elaborates as Oscar’s arms slacken in surprise, “Small kiss, Pussa.”

Dipping towards you, the larger man cups your jaw to draw you up on your knees to give an example. His mouth pecks your cheek light and quick as your face flushes. “Big kiss? Kyssa.”

His next kiss lands on your lips and is warm and toe-curling and slow, and you’re sure your ears are red by the end of it. You clear your throat as Otto draws back with a smile. “I-I see. Thank you Otto.”

These men are going to be the death of you. Oscar huffs as his thunder is stolen, and you immediately take advantage to tease. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you dip to give a tiny peck to his forehead and push off of him, playfully ruffling his hair before heading to the kitchen. He can’t complain, he got his kiss. “I should get dinner started.”

You feel his eyes burning into your back as you retreat, obviously frustrated with your cheating.

Oscar grumbles. He has half a mind to follow you in there...but instead settles back against the sofa with a huff. Revenge will be had, just a little later. He’ll think of something.

Otto clicks on the television and watches his baby brother out of the corner of his eye, lips twitching with amusement. What is the phrase...you snooze, you lose.

Mulling over a couple dinner options in your mind, you decide on a pasta dish, a way to pay your respects to the names your kittens could have had. As you lift a big pot up to the stovetop, the sound of the guestroom door has you hesitating, peering back at the entryway.

That must be Axel, who, if the recovering man chooses wisely, will be joining his younger brothers to relax in the living room. When you told him to take it easy, you meant it. Come hell or high water, you will kick him out of the kitchen if you have to. Aaaand sure enough, the stubborn man appears in the entryway.

“Excuse me sir, you’re not allowed in here tonight. Hostess only. Go wait in the living room please.” You cross your arms, chin lifting fearlessly. You’ve got another card up your sleeve if he doesn’t back down. “Don’t make me call security.”

Cocking his head to the side, Axel stares. Curiosity warring with amusement, he takes one slow step closer. Then another. He wants to see what you'll do.

And suddenly, he changes.

Your heart skips a beat, because even though you’d been expecting him to push back, you hadn’t anticipated...this. Standing tall, chin lowered, his stare piercing, focused intently on you...you forgot how intimidating he can be. Predatory. It reminds you a little of when he and his brothers first arrived all those months ago.

Swallowing your nervousness and wetting your lips, refusing to let the chills skittering down your spine and the warmth pooling between your thighs stop you, you call for help as he takes another step closer. “Otto? Oscar? Could you come here for a moment?”

Axel blinks, brows furrowing slightly, baffled. Silence, and then his brothers make their way into the kitchen, looking curiously between you and him.

“Axel is having trouble, it looks like he’s confused the kitchen with the living room...could you help him find it please?”

Oscar smirks, already hooking an arm around his brother’s arm as Otto grips the other, the two together dragging the man away. You watch, biting your lip to hide your grin as Axel sends an incredulous look to each of his brothers before returning his stare to you, and you revel in sweet sweet victory as you’re left alone in your kitchen once more.

You know you’re probably going to pay for this later, but at the moment you choose not to care. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, you head for the fridge to get some ingredients for your recipe.

In the living room, the cogs in Oscar’s head are turning. Revenge is coming, and you set it up for him oh so nicely.

#tua the swedes #axel x reader #otto x reader #oscar x reader #ikea mafia #the swedes #tua swedes #the swedes x reader #umbrella academy swedes #tua axel #tua otto #tua oscar #;)

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