Unexpected Guests (TF2 x reader)

"Error"

"SCOUT, THROW IT!" He screamed.

Scout gave a firm nod, Not hesitating as he chucked it high into the air.

Several shots rang out, followed by a deathly silent explosion.

~°.✧.°~

They'd all be dead.

They'd all be dead if you could get your hands on them, The motherfeckers.

Your oh so sweet neighbors in the apartment above you, god love them because you sure don't right now, decided to go running through the apartment complex and start pranking people.

Random? Yes. Normal? For you, unfortunately.

You cussed, trying your best not to cut yourself on the broken pottery.

That vase was really pretty too. A pale white and brown porcelain with a black marbled look throughout. It matched the soft aesthetic of your apartment. Totally tied the room together.

And of course your mood was now rock bottom. Again. Normally, and this is true, you didn't mind a little bit of tomfuckery from the neighbors every now and again. Their little pranks were very harmless, sometimes very much a welcome distraction from your stressful life. The pranks weren't really anything that bad, they ranged from a simple ding dong ditch to letting off loud-ish noise poppers in the hallways.

You were always startled by sudden loud noises. It wasn't usually anything bad, just your body involuntarily jolting as the loudest shortest yelp ever would leave your throat. Admittedly, a very funny response to someone looking in from the outside. You were fairly certain you would find it funny too if you didn't experience near heart attacks from it every single time.

Which, unfortunately, was exactly what happened this time. Not the heart attack of course.

They always left to go to their weekend book club meeting around this time, 3 p.m. sharp. You were busy vigorously sweeping the living room carpet with your broom, surprisingly making good progress in cleaning up the little trash bits the vacuum cleaner refused to pick up. The rest of the floors were swept clean, and this was the last thing you had to do.

Everything was going fine. You listened to your music playlist that you've had on repeat the entire time, occasionally stopping your work and dancing with the broom because it's your apartment and you can do damn well anything you please. Almost anything, as long as the curtains were drawn.

Abba's 'Dancing Queen' had just ended, and you lazily held the broom in your hand as you walked over to your phone to restart the playlist. Everything was quiet, very peaceful as you made your way to the side table by the couch, making a mental note not to accidentally knock over the little vase you got at the flea market with your broom.

When all of a sudden, a big *BANG* erupts in the hallway and you jerk, your entire body twisting around to face the door, broom held offensively in front of you. For a split second you didn't realize you had whacked the vase with the broom handle as you swung it around, only realizing too late when you heard a loud crash, head snapping back to see the cute pastel brown vase shattering to jagged pieces behind you.

Son of a fuck.

You weren't proud of the things you shouted. Impressed with your own creativity in swear wordage? Well yes, you were impressed. Proud? Oh no.

You cussed out every God you could think of, you cussed the very existence of the broom you were holding, and you cussed out a very angry apology to the now broken and probably fixable vase in front of you. Kitsungi is easy, right?

Thankfully, all of the pieces looked relatively easy to put back together, the vase breaking off into more larger chunks. You ran through a mental checklist in your mind as you picked up the broken pieces and plopped them into the dustpan now laying on the coffee table. Oscar, who had been napping in your room this entire time, finally decided to come and see what all the fuss was about. You watched with an annoyed glare as he stretched, giving you a loud yowl.

You worked faster to pick up the broken pieces as Oscar trotted his way over to you.

"Sweetie, back up, I don't want you to get hurt." You warn tiredly, giving him a side glance, as if he could understand you. You watched as he hopped up onto the couch, making biscuits on the cushion before laying down. "Lazy ass." You muttered with a smile.

You stopped moving as you felt a strange static chill run up your spine. It felt off. For some reason you felt off. You sat on your knees as you looked around, carelessly handling a piece of vase in your hand.

It was a strange feeling. The closest you could get to describing it was the weird staticky feeling you'd get back in elementary school when the teacher would wheel in that big tube television and turn it on. Except a lot stronger and slightly more concerning. It sent horrible chilling shivers from the base of your spine up to your shoulders, and you unconsciously pulled your shoulders back, as if to try and make the feeling go away. You gave a confused look to Oscar, as if he would have some type of answer.

You were shocked to see him looking around in a panic, on guard. His back was arched and he looked scared. Oscar was never scared, so this put a panic in your chest.

You moved to stand up, stumbling as the feeling got stronger. You reached out and held onto the coffee table for balance, heart beating faster. It was all too much for you. Was something wrong with you? Were you sick? Your grip tightened as you fought to simply stand up. You were truly panicking, lungs feeling constricted and your brain feeling like it was being squeezed. You were scared.

You heard a loud electrical crackle, and the horrible feelings suddenly vanished. You let out a startled shout and gasped as your body seemed to reset, inner ears popping like you were in an airplane.

You fell back to your knees, your hand finally unclenched and grasping at your chest. You breathed deep heavy breaths as you tried to make sense of what happened. Are you okay? Are you ACTUALLY okay?

Your brain started working as you finally registered a horrible sharp pain in your left hand. You look to see your hand balled up in a fist, tightly gripping the broken piece of vase. You got out of string of curses as you unclenched your hand, dropping the now blooded porcelain into the dustpan with the others. You will yourself to look at the cuts, clean hand coming forward to poke at the meat of your palm.

Well, they were cuts. And you have been hurt worse than this before, but still. You turn to head to your bathroom, mentally mapping out where the bandages and disinfectant were, when all of a sudden you tripped. You brace yourself as you come tumbling down, fully expecting your face to slam onto the hard wooden floor.

You let out a grunt as you fell hard. But instead of a hard smack on the floor and throbbing head pain you got a... soft warm cushion and....

Cologne.

Strong cologne.

Your eyes snapped open and you jerked with a start, your vision instantly filled with reddish brown pinstripes. That was NOT something you recognized as yours. You instantly launch yourself back to your feet. Your hand flew up to your mouth as you stared wide-eyed.

Who the hell were these people, and why were they in your apartment!?

•

~°.✧෴💗෴✧.°~