Tf2 x Reader OneShots [Requests Open]

Scout x Reader

Found this shit gathering dust in the depths of my documents folder. May as well post it.

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You looked up as the volume of talking in the bar rose. The familiar nine men walked in. There was never only one of them in the bar, and they were always in the same mood. Occasionally they were gloomy and miserable, but most of the time they were loud and pretty damn happy. One of them in the middle of telling a story. He often referred to himself as a 'Black Scottish cyclops' in public, but you'd heard the others call him 'Demo' or something. He was grinning, using his hands to animate his story.

' - an' then they exploded, from the inside out! Better for yae that yae weren't there, it was a 'orrible sight! Blood 'n' guts everywhere!' He guffawed with the others, who took their usual seats by the window.

'Can you please take them this time? I've gotta go home early and look after my little sis. She's sick and my dad's working overtime already! Please? Just this once?' One of your colleagues pleaded with you as you wiped the rim of a beer glass.

'Sure, Maya. Hope little Sophie gets well soon.' You said, and they gave you a grateful look (and a notebook) before grabbing their stuff from behind the bar and rushing out of the building. You sighed, flipped the towel over your shoulder, grabbed the notebook and made you way towards the loud men.

'Hey guys, Maya had to go home early today, so I'll be serving you instead of her. What can I get you?' You asked cheerily.

'Just a round of beers'll do fine, love.' The Scottish man said, and you scribbled it down on the notebook.

'Guinness, right?' You questioned.

'Yea, the good stuff.' The youngest man there threw you a wink. He sounded like he was from Boston.

You wrote down Guinness on the notebook. 'Be with you shortly.' You said, and went back behind the bar to fill nine glasses with Guinness. As you pulled down on the tap for the fifth time, you noticed the young guy staring at you. You made eye contact with him for a second, and unsure what to do, you gave him a small smile. He just winked at you again before returning his attention to his friends.

Shaking your head slightly, you finished filling the glasses and put them on two trays. You skilfully carried the trays over to the table. You put the trays on the table and began to hand a beer to each of the nine men.

'So, what did we do ta scare away your friend?' On of them asked. He had and Australian accent, and a pair of amber tinted sunglasses.

'Nothing, she had to take care of her family. Though she does always complain about you guys. Dunno why, you seem pretty fine to me.'

'Heavy likes leetle girl!' One of them said loudly as you handed him his beer. He was a big, bear like man with a heavy Russian accent.

'Heavy?' You asked, slightly confused. Sure, he looked pretty heavy, but surely that wasn't his name?

'I am heavy weapons guy.' He grunted, making you even more confused.

'Weapons? You guys in the army or something?'

'It's a nickname.' The Boston guy said quickly. 'We all have one, for short.'

'Oh, uh...ok. Er, anyways, yeah, you guys seem fine to me.' You said, though still slightly suspicious about the "weapons" comment.

'Zat is because you 'ave not seen zem drunk yet.' A man with a French accent this time, who was wearing a red ski mask for some absurd reason.

'I'll keep that in mind.' You smiled. 'As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I have other orders to take.' You picked up they trays and whisked away to behind the bar again. So, they were a little mysterious, but everyone has secrets. You distracted yourself by taking the order of a small group of friends at the other side of the room.

As you were preparing their shots, you noticed that the Bostonian guy was staring at you again. You looked up, and he gave you another wink before turning away. You forced yourself to concentrate on the shots and not think about why he was staring at you, because you could see he was doing it again. Out of the corner of your eye actually, and it really bugged you.

You carried the shots over to the group of people in the corner before returning to the bar and wiping down glasses. And yet again, when you looked up, the young man was staring at you again. And again, he just gave you a casual wink before looking away.

All throughout the evening, he stared at you. When you were serving them when you were serving other people, when you walking through the door to the kitchen with used glasses. In fact, for most of the evening you had to look in the opposite direction, or look down at the bar at all times. You were so distracted that you didn't notice someone trying to get your attention until they came right up to the bar and startled you.

'Hey, you ignorin' me or somethin'?' The young man teased, making you jump.

'Oh! Sorry, I didn't notice!' You put down the glass you had almost dropped. 'How can I help?'

''Nuther round of beers, thanks.' He winked and went back to the table. With a roll of your eyes, you began to fill up another nine glasses. You carried them them to the table and started to collect to empty glasses.

'I'm telling you, zat eye socket is haunted!' One of the men with a German accent stated loudly.

You almost dropped one of the glasses. Did you really just hear that?

'I don't remember yae tellin' me that!' The Scottish man said, his words slurred and almost unrecognisable. If the Frenchman's warning had been true, they were about to become not-so-fine anymore. You quickly collected the glasses and got away from the table , just as the Scottish man burst into tears.

'I just want me eye back! Of all the things yae do, and you and yer medicine can't get me eye back!' He bawled to the German man, who stood there with an incredibly bored look on his face as if this was normal behaviour. Thank god my shift is just about end you though as you tidied up behind the bar.

'I zink it is time to go, Demo. Any more alcohol for you and your liver vill probably give up.' The bar was filled with the noise of nine chairs scraping across the floor as the men got up. Two of the men had to help the Scottish man out of the bar because he was so drunk. You hand just taken off your apron when you heard someone clear their throat from opposite you. You looked up to see the young man leaning against the counter.

'I'm told it's good manners to tip the waitress.' He said, glancing back at his group of friends quickly and holding out some money.

'We've got a tip jar for that.' You smirked, jabbing a thumb in the direction of said jar. The man tossed the money in before returning his attention back to you.

He drummed his fingers on the bar for a while before blurting out. 'I was just wonderin', you wanna grab somethin' to eat with me some time? I know a great place near here, they do good chicken.'

'Dates with strangers? Sounds a bit sketchy to me. Also, is this place you're talking about KFC by any chance?' You grinned, and he shrugged.

'Maybe. Anyways, I'm Scout. There, not strangers now.' He gave you yet another wink and a sly grin.

'Great, and I'm (Y/N), and I'm also sorry but that still makes us strangers.' You said, grabbing your bag.

'Come with me to that chicken place, and by the end of the day we won't be strangers no more.'

'You sound awfully cocky, Mr Scout.' You said, folding your arms over your chest.

'Wanna know my secret? Come on a date with me an' find out.' He grinned, and it was kinda infectious.

With a slight smirk of your own, you replied. 'It's a date.'