HetaliaxReader One Shot Series

NyoScotlandXFemReader -- Bar Fights

Requested by Rose in Wonderland on Quotev. I've actually never written for Scotland before, let alone a female Scotland. But I still enjoyed doing it, challenging stories are fun! I hope you enjoy this story.

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   (Y/N) gazed around the empty bar. It was Sunday night, the slowest night of the week. She heaved a sigh and stood up to stretch. Quickly, she brushed a strand of (h/c) hair out of her face and turned when she heard the door open. "Oh, hey Scottie." (Y/N) sighed lightly, seeing it was her boss. The red-head dropped a dead cigarette in the trash bin and walked over. 

 "Still no one then?" She leaned on the counter and tied her wild hair back into a ponytail. Her green eyes trailed over the empty room with mild annoyance.

   "There was one guy, but he got a beer and then left." (Y/N) hopped over the counter and sat on a stool next to her friend. "So, why'd you leave so quickly anyways?" Scotland rolled her neck a bit, audible pops could be herd. 

 "England had to drag America to the hospital."

  (Y/N) raised a brow. "Why?" She wondered how Scotland seemed so unconcerned with her brothers, but then again, they weren't on the best of terms. 

 "He got into a bar fight with Russia." (Y/N) shivered. She was aware of the personifications and Russia was certainly one of the scariest. "Why they called me, I don't know."

    "Well," she giggled, "You are their big sister." 

  "Have you even met them?" She scoffed. "They never call for stupid shit like that."

   "Well, I assume England was also drunk." 

  "Off his rocker." Both women chuckled at this. Despite Scotland having a pretty good tolerance to alcohol her younger brother could get drunk from just having one beer, maybe two. (Y/N) leaned back and starred at the ceiling. Scotland got up and went around the bar, getting ready to pour herself a drink. "I bloody hate Sundays." She muttered. (Y/N) nodded in agreement. For a bar owner, and bar tender, Sundays were certainly worse than Mondays.

   Later in the evening the doors to the bar were pushed open and several familiar laughs chorused through the still air. Scotland rolled her eyes at the three men and started taking out some mugs. (Y/N) smirked at them as they came over. "Hey boys. The usual, right?" The trio frequented the bar, along with many of the other countire. It wasn;t because Scotland gave them discounts, which she didn't, but because of how great her cooking was. 

 "Jou bet frau!" Prussia grinned widely at her, alcohol already evident in his breath. Typical. They'd probably been bar hopping for most of the evening. France and Spain sat on either side of their albino friend, their typical grins also plastered on their faces. Scotland slid their drinks in front of them. She then went to the back to cook their food.

   "It'll be out in a minute." She called over her shoulder. "Make sure they don't break anything,(y/n)." Spain pouted innocently while (y/n) chuckled and nodded.  

   "Take as long as you need mon cher!" France winked. Scotland tsked at this and flipped her ponytail before disappearing into the kitchen. France sighed while Prussia and Spain laughed at the most recent rejection. 

 "You know, you're liable to get slugged one of these days Francey." The Frenchman had been after Scotland for quite a while know, whenever he saw her he flirted with her. She always turned him down, but he kept on trying. And trying, and trying, and trying. It was surprising he hadn't already met the end of her fist.