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thecoffeelorian · 8 days ago

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Dumbstruck (The Swedes x Reader)

Title: Dumbstruck Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Characters: Axel, Otto, and Oscar/“The IKEA Mafia” Word Count: 2.5 k Brief Description: It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and you have just witnessed a crime. Pairings: Axel x Reader; Otto x Reader; and Oscar x Reader in that order. Disclaimer: As this little tale is purely for fun and games and shouldn’t be taken seriously…whatever you do, NEVER try to flirt with an assassin in real life, please. Protect yourself instead. Special Notes: Please refer to Google Translate to get the Swedish lines in this little tale translated to English, as I kinda want them to be as big a mystery as the MC (Main Character) views them, as they don’t speak a word of this language. Yet. No Pressure Tags: @snippychicke @gggoldfinch @flyiingsly @talia-the-gemini @stephsageek and anybody else who might like more Swedes x Reader tales.

Normally, you wouldn’t be in this part of the apartment block. Not when you’re either coming home from work, your favorite shows are on, or you have the irresistible need to go to the movies. As fate would have it, though, it’s laundry day and you’ve got to get a few ketchup stains out of your favorite shirt by any means necessary.

This puts you right inside the laundry room at 9 AM on a Saturday morning, your body pointed somewhat towards the western window just as the sun’s rays are beginning to shine in.

This, unfortunately, is also the same time in which you hear the gunshots.

Gunshots coming from inside the first room down the hall.

And, wouldn’t you know it…you are neither armed, dangerous, nor able to find the nearest exit without somebody seeing you.

This is how you find yourself scrambling to squeeze yourself under the laundry room sink, your only true way of concealment being the divider wall behind you.

Unfortunately, you also have the stupidity to knock over a stack of spare laundry baskets as you do so…and, naturally, all six of them go clattering to the floor in different directions, making enough noise to have you cursing yourself for not remembering to avoid them in your rush to hide.

Or, as the slow, rhythmic sound of approaching footsteps suggests about a few minutes too late…perhaps you should have waited until Sunday.

AXEL

You see the youngest of these three assassins before he sees you, a silent figure dressed almost entirely in white who eyes the fallen laundry baskets with little more than slight curiosity, as no doubt he believes the person who knocked them over must have run away by now.

God, do you wish you already had.

And yet.

One moment later, your eyes finally meet and he’s lunging forward with nothing less than murder on his mind, his rifle drawn and aimed straight for your head with the full intention of making you his next person to take out of this world—only in an instant, there’s a sudden flash of blue and white, and then a second man is holding him back.

“Nej, Oscar.”

This assassin looks either somewhat bored with the situation, or else suspicious with you and you alone—it’s difficult for you to discern anything over the sounds of protest the first one makes, he’s certainly being loud enough—and yet, as he’s got him under control regardless, you almost swear that he takes a single second to smile down at you.

“Vi är klara här. Gå till nästa korridor och vänta på oss där.”

Why, though…?

Specifically, why on earth would someone who could be two minutes away from killing you suddenly look down at you like the way he did?

There’s still one more of these assassins to worry about, unfortunately, so you can’t exactly think this one over for very long. The third comes along like a shadow behind the other two, a menacing scar over one eye and an even more unnerving look in his stare.

In fact, this one’s eyeing you with something closer to the glance of a predator than a person, and for the briefest of moments, you wonder if he might, indeed, feed upon your corpse in the exact same way.

You definitely wouldn’t put anything past him now, especially not so late into this little standoff.

That’s when the man in blue intervenes a second time, this time with a mere snap of his fingers, and once again your life is spared. All three of them are moving far away from you now, a promising sign for someone so close to their own execution, and the one called Oscar is also the first to be pushed into the next hallway over.

Believing yourself to be officially out of harm’s way, you let out the small breath you were holding, preparing to see these three strangers leave whatever way they came in and so enjoy your peace.

However.

It’s not until the one with the scar goes into the hallway that the first man’s eyes are upon you once more, and with it, your pulse begins to race all over again. He’s clearly not quite done with you yet…a fact made all too real to you as soon as he draws a few steps closer.

“To…morrow. Be ready.”

He manages this one sentence of English with the most insistent stare you’ve ever seen from anybody, one that might have almost melted you if it had the same amount of power as an explosive or a bolt of lightning—and yet, regardless of whatever horror you’re still feeling or how quickly this stranger vanishes into thin air, you’re not too slow to grasp his meaning.

Not only might you be able to count on meeting this assassin again within the next 24 hours, but there’s a chance he just might come alone.

He's certainly spared your life as well, and not just once, but two times over.

And where there’s your first surprise visitor, there also comes the need to look your absolute best for him…so, now that you’re by yourself once more and the sound of the police sirens are drawing closer, you don’t hesitate to come out of hiding, almost robotically combing your own hair with your fingers as you begin your preparations.

After all, whatever your tall blond stranger brings with him tomorrow, he will never see you as a walking mess.

OTTO

At first, you don’t see anyone creeping around the corner, and instead hear the slow clomp-clomping of heavy boots. For a moment, you delude yourself into thinking that the day janitor has arrived, and that he’ll soon call the cops once he sees the crime scene. Maybe you’ll even have the opportunity to find some restored sense of safety once you find each other, if not also a strong crack at identifying the culprits.

Then…you just happen to catch sight of the stranger’s face, and once he also gets a good look at you, that’s when your blood runs cold.

“Det.”

Not only does this stranger’s demeanor spell out the word Killer in bold, six-foot tall letters, but he’s also got the scar over one eye to prove it…and right now, both of those ice-blue eyes are fixed solely upon you, unblinking and waiting to see your next move.

“O-Okay, mister, wait a second…”

Every limb of your body feels like they’re trembling at this point, which is surely not the best look you’d ever want to demonstrate to the one person that can and will destroy you without a second thought.

“…Let’s talk this over, huh? You want some money? A little cold, hard cash? Well, I can get my wallet out right now, you can take as much as you need, and then—”

“—Shhhhh.”

Nevertheless, once you start in on what you hope sounds like a worthwhile negotiation for compromise…that’s when the stranger silences you with a finger upon his lips, a quick glance to the right indicating the sounds of the others drawing near. You don’t know how many others there might be, unfortunately, or whether or not they’re armed. That information remains hidden by the walls that currently separate you.

“Stay.”

And yet, whatever the most sinister-looking one among them might or might not be thinking about you, never mind what to do with you or not—well, he’s certainly not considering the idea of killing you and so removing a clear witness.

“You…you will tell nobody.”

In fact, even if you didn’t know any better and this is nothing but one big move to cover his tracks—you, of course, secretly pray that it isn’t—you never think twice about accepting this man’s directions.

“I will tell n-nobody,” you hear yourself agree, your voice going up one octave out of sheer terror. “Scout’s honor, man!”

It’s here that you surprise the stranger as well as yourself, offering him your right hand as some kind of peace offering and hoping he’s not about to cut it off. As awkward, scary, or however else this first meeting feels to you…you still kinda need that hand, no exceptions allowed.

Lucky for you, this one knows a deal when he sees it.

“Tack.”

You can only assume that means ‘Thank you’ as his palm slaps against yours, followed close behind by the tightest handshake you’ve received in your life.

“S-Sure, buddy! You, too!”

You manage to squeak out this final sentence before he makes his exit, one small glance back at you and a somewhat aching hand the only things he leaves behind. Maybe you’ll have to put some ice on it just to be safe, even though you’re a little bit sure that he hasn’t quite injured you.

Not yet.

Once some weird flash of light emits from the hallway and you begin to hear sirens going off in the distance, however…? Well, your roiling stomach doesn’t exactly let you break out into a happy dance over not being offed as well. No, celebrations or sighs of sweet relief are the very last thing on your mind, especially since you’re still a bit too close to wetting yourself out of sheer terror.

However.

Once you’ve hoofed it to the nearest restroom and made doubly sure you’re not about to lose your lunch, that’s when you begin to realize something important.

This assassin, rather than take you out so that there would be no witnesses to his crime, decided to spare your life.

For whatever reason he might have chosen to do this—be it for some twisted sense of honor, workplace professionalism, or hell, even basic human affection—that’s when you start wondering about whether or not you’ll ever have to spare his life as repayment.

And third…as crazy as all of this will probably look to you by this time tomorrow, you’re secretly very, very grateful for all of it.

OSCAR

In the course of your life, not once would you have ever expected to be fighting an assassin who posed as the driver of a milk delivery truck.

All this changes, however, as soon as that sort of opponent comes right at you with a loaded rifle, giving you mere seconds to decide whether to run for it and risk getting shot in the back, or else stand and fight and then risk getting shot in the head instead.

Without thinking, you choose the fighting option, and let the only ‘weapon’ currently available to you—a half-full bottle of laundry detergent—fly straight at his face, hoping that whatever time you have left on this planet includes hitting your target.

Strangely, whatever gods are watching over you right now seem to regard you with some kind of favor, because lo and behold, that detergent bottle introduces itself to your attacker with a mighty SMACK.

And not only that, but the rifle he just happens to be holding drops out of his hands exactly two seconds after impact…which, when it doesn’t go off upon hitting the ground, leaves you with a very, VERY, golden opportunity to gain a much more powerful weapon.

A weapon that, as soon as he’s grabbing the most painful part of his head and so becomes momentarily distracted, you don’t think twice about taking custody of.

“HA!”

And as soon as you’re properly armed and dangerous, that’s exactly when things get interesting.

“Not so brave without your nasty toys, huh?!”

He’s slowed down a little thanks to the unexpected knock to the head, yet the daze wears off just the same, leaving him with a fresh scowl and you with a fresh run of the good old adrenaline.

“You…you give back.”

A scowl so strong, maybe, that he might not exactly think twice before wrestling that rifle out of your own hands this next time.

Unfortunately, as this one’s about to learn, you’re not quite done with getting the upper hand today.

“No way, Mister Milk Truck. I think I’m gonna hang onto this as some accident insurance, which oh by the way, reminds me…”

Specifically, as the sirens in the background are sounding and any associates of his will be following him to you any second now, well…you’ve obviously got to think fast.

“…Not only did somebody just call the cops on you, but I’m also one step away from taking you out myself…so listen carefully.”

You’re feeling crazy enough by now to jerk the barrel of your new gun a few inches closer to his face, and to your greater amusement, he’s jumping backward out of nothing less than pure fear.

Fear of you, for once, and not the other way around.

“You get the fuck out of here right now and don’t make any trouble for me, I’ll think about tracking you down and returning this. However, if not…”

Still, as it’s your own life on the line here, never mind your survival pitted against his, you definitely have zero problems mimicking the sound of a gunshot to drive your message home.

“…Sound good?”

And lucky for this half crazed platinum blond stranger, you don’t have to explain it to him twice. No, he’s out of there like a spooked rabbit, most likely to get ten steps ahead of local law enforcement, while you’re left staring at the detergent bottle on the floor, its contents now leaving a small puddle around it due to having broken open upon hitting the ground.

Ah, shit…clean-up on Aisle 6!

Well, perhaps cleaning up that mess will help endear you to whatever officers end up coming through that door, as well as softening them up ahead of time so that they don’t keep you too busy answering questions. You’ve rarely been that brave enough to pick fights with more than one person at a time, so considering they might already be primed to deal with a few “violent offenders”, you’re certainly not about to take your chances with them.

And while you’re on the subject, it’ll be a really smart idea for you to first deal with the obvious.

Number one, you’ve got a piece of crime scene evidence to secret away before anyone else sees you with it.

Number two, you’re best served hiding this thing under that gap beneath your loosest floorboards, or at least until you can get it to a more secure location.

And number three…if nothing terrible happens to you in the next 24 hours and you make it to your next sunrise, you just might have a mystery man to track down as soon as possible.

#the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #tua #tua season 2 #tua fanfiction #tua the swedes #the swedes x reader #tua axel #tua otto #tua oscar #axel x reader #otto x reader #oscar x reader #longtime writer first time shipper

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