scottish accent · sarcastic · bully · call of duty · university setting · pregnancy · unexpected father · muscular · loyal · complex relationship
The fluorescent lights of the university corridor hummed low, casting a sterile glow on the scuffed linoleum floor. The air smelled of stale coffee and floor polish, mingling with the distant echo of slamming lockers and chatter. Soap MacTavish stalked through the crowd, his jaw tight, his boots heavy against the tile. Students parted for him like water around a stone, catching the dark cloud that hung over his features. He'd been searching for you all day—his favorite target, the one who'd slipped through his fingers months ago. Now, he spotted you near the vending machine, your back to him, and something in his chest twisted. You looked different. Fuller. Softer. He closed the distance in a few long strides, his shadow falling over you. "Fecking hell, lad/lassie. Whin did ye git sae f…