Scottish Translation -
M’eudail - My Dear/My Darling
Bairn - Baby
Bonnie - Beautiful/ Pretty
Ghràdh - Love
Glaikit – stupid
The man smiles at me, somewhat nervously yet also seeming strangely determined. The glint in his hazel eyes is something I hadn’t seen in him, and when they glance over me to Lewis, they flick with another hardened emotion I can’t place. Not hatred or anger, more like one would look at a challenger in a fight- someone to dominate over. I don’t like that. For one, I know Lewis would never allow someone to make him submit in anything, especially a fight. Second, Ryan couldn’t handle Lewis in a fight, a physical one at least.
Ryan is taller than me, as most people are; I’m only around five foot five, he’s most likely five foot eleven. Lewis is both taller and wider than him, Ryan being on the chubby side with a cute belly on him, not overweight, he has muscle and fat in what I consider a healthy portion; he’s curvy and was always like that. That being said, Lewis is still a giant to him. The Scotsman could very easily, if he wanted, throw Ryan across the room without much of a strain. Lewis has the muscle where Ryan has the little fat he does, he is basically built like a wall; tall and wide and hard to move.
My ex-boyfriend had dyed his pretty, shiny black hair to a platinum blonde, for a bet from what he mentioned last I spoke to him, and his black roots are showing. I like the look, the blonde against the black is a nice contrast. His skin is tanner than mine and Lewis’s, Ryan lives closer to the beach and enjoys surfing, and he still plays soccer when he coaches the younger students at the school he volunteers at. He has his ears pierced, a rod through the top of both, and three in the lobes. He has one tattoo from what I see from the sleeve he has rolled up to his elbow, the color of it peeing under it.
He’s in light blue jeans that sag at the hip a bit and a tie-dye rainbow hoodie with our high school name on it, it’s what he wears over because he doesn’t necessarily care if I accidentally got paint on it while he helps me clean up. It does have drops of paint on it, blue there, green here- there’s red and purple. Either he didn’t want to change it up or he thought his surprise visit would have him cleaning my apartment with me. Too bad that my painting space is clean, as well as the rest of my home. It’s one of Lewis’s rules, he had only given me small ones such as his ‘take a shower every morning’ rule. He wants me to clean up whatever mess I leave, paints get sorted and dishes get put away after a wash; clothes in my closet or hamper. I even have my bed made, which considering my relationships with mornings, is a great achievement.
I love that I have rules, Lewis hadn’t surprised me with them and spoke about them with me, we agreed on them. They have helped me immensely, I feel much better living in a clean space, healthier in more ways than one. The apartment isn’t a big mess that I’m ashamed of anymore, my clothes are sorted and socks are easier to find, I can use my clean dishes rather than use paper plates every day. All in all, it’s amazing and I’m thankful that Lewis had agreed to dominate me even if we aren’t official. I’m not sure if anyone else would be willing to do that.
But it leaves Ryan here, with nothing to do and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I wasn’t prepared for his visit, he hadn’t called to warn me or texted me, just appeared without any sign. Normally when he comes here, we’ll catch up over dinner that he insists on paying for; I argue with him on it because he isn’t my dominant and I’m not his responsibility, if he was and we agreed that he’d do that, I’d have no problem. Lewis pays for us because he knows I love him taking control and he had mentioned that he normally does for his submissives. Bravely, I told him that I preferred him doing it. Ryan is different because he’s my friend and I feel as if I’m somehow pushing him into paying for me. With Lewis, I don’t have that, cause I’m reminded easily that I’m his, in the ways that matter at the moment, and he makes sure I don’t attempt to argue with him.
So, Ryan and I go out and get dinner then he stays the night here on the couch. In the mornings he’ll wake up before me and make breakfast, whatever I have in the kitchen, then wake me up. He only stays maybe two days, sometimes one day, because he visits on the weekends. When he leaves, he always kisses my cheek, has been doing it since we broke up and he had to move. I’m at a loss on what to do because while I want to catch up with my friend, I also want to spend time with Lewis. I wouldn’t be nearly as surprised as I am if it was the weekend, but it isn’t, it’s Tuesday night around eight. I think my confusion is earned.
Suddenly, I remember Lewis’s confession of being possessive of his partners, and his run-in with the stranger he kicked from the cafe, and turn to see his reaction. He’s sitting calmly beside me, arm slung over the couch and his ankle on his knee, watching us carefully yet nothing indicates that he’s bothered or angry. Of course, I noticed that he had sat next to me and placed his arm over me, on the couch or not, it still is over me. A silent claim, mark on me, but other than that, nothing. Perhaps he’d react if Ryan touched me or boldly stated he was interested in me, which I don’t think he is. He’ll touch, hug me, kisses my cheeks at times, but he isn’t interested in me romantically. Even if he was, I’m dating Lewis, and I enjoy his company for too much to risk him calling dating off.
“Hey, Tom.” Ryan grabs my attention again, his sharp voice pulling me from my head. It isn’t deep or low like Lewis’s is, more of a higher pitch but still as piercing when he wants it to be. He’s smirking at me, lifting his arms a bit, “Don’t I get a hug?”
Normally, I don’t hesitate to hug him. He’s my friend and I have been missing him between his visits, he lives in another city miles from here and his work schedule is busy, with coaching the students and working part-time at a restaurant, plus the college classes he has. I thought my life was messy, I can’t imagine doing all that and not accidentally killing myself from lack of sleep. But, I’m aware that now I have a dominant. Officially or not, sexually or not, we agreed that Lewis is my dominant until either of us ends it. This means that I ask for permission to do things, a thing I enjoy doing, and even if we haven’t spoken about this yet, I feel like Lewis will like it just as I do.
He’s a controlling Dom from what I’ve been told and experienced, I love that. It’s what I need, a controlling yet understanding of limits, dominant and I believe Lewis is that. I can easily picture myself having to ask permission for certain things or everything, I haven’t figured if he’d have me ask to go to the bathroom or not yet. Not that I’d mind, the idea of him refusing to allow me to the restroom to relieve myself is incredible. The power exchange in that interaction would be very clear and I wouldn’t be able to do anything except sit there and wait until he decides I can go. I’m not interested in bathroom play, golden showers and anything of the like is a hard limit of mine, but asking to go to the restroom isn’t so bad.
It’s why I smile at Ryan, but turn to look at Lewis. The Scotsman has been quiet, green eyes zeroing in on me when I face him and I earn a raised eyebrow. It relieves me asking for permission, it’s been such a long time since I asked to do something, I’ve been letting Lewis make basic decisions for me; what I eat, what I wear, when I go to sleep. A weight is off my shoulders in allowing him to make even more of them for me, whether I do something or not. Giving up making actions of my own choice, handing him more power over me, is an amazing and freeing feeling.
“Lewy, can I?”
Lewis doesn’t even appear surprised, probably expecting it at some point, but he smiles softly to assure me he doesn’t mind and nods over to Ryan once. “Go ’head, Bairn.”
I can hear Ryan splutter, most likely not thinking I had a dominant or didn’t expect Lewis to be said dominant. I don’t pay the noise any mind, kissing Lewis’s jaw and giggling when his beard tickles my nose, before jumping up and hugging Ryan tightly. He is soft and I love hugging him because of it, it was one of my favorite things about dating him. I’m holding my hands behind his back, squeezing as tightly as I can without stealing his breath. Ryan laughs, happily returning my hug, hands on my lower back as they always are. He lifts me off my feet for a few seconds before releasing me and pulling back enough to press a kiss to my cheek.
I blink at the action, knowing I should’ve anticipated that but still shocked because I hadn’t thought of him kissing me in front of Lewis. I smile at Ryan while I release him, glancing behind me to my potential boyfriend to discern a reaction. The Scotsman eyes are dark, staying focused on us but not moving to say or do anything. I’m strangely disappointed in that. Not that I want Lewis to beat Ryan up, it’s just that I want him to show me his possessive side much more often. It’s a morbid curiosity more than anything, see what he’d do to keep me positively his. There is that one part that is arousal, the thought of him fighting because of me and that he could beat someone up for touching me, is a power high I never had.
Lewis is pure power if he sets his mind to it, he knows how to fight and how to use his size to his advantage. I do not doubt that if he wanted, he could release any pent up anger onto someone who dared touch me. I’m aware that in a situation, should one come up, he might need to be pulled back and calmed down. Also, the fact that if I told him that a man was bothering me and taking no, not interested for yes, I’m drooling for you, he’d take down said man within a few minutes of being told. The power that I feel from either keeping him calm and his strength held back or being the one that calms him down after he makes a person bleed is incredibly arousing and I never figured I’d be into that.
Now, though, Ryan just kissed my cheek and Lewis is doing nothing. He is tense, arms tightened up and his lips are turned into a displeased frown, dark eyes flicking between me and my friend before they land and focus in on me. Then his hand on the armrest of the couch, the limb had been lazily limp on the edge of it, shifts and he snaps his fingers, pointing to the floor. The snap had echoed, piercing the quiet room and I felt Ryan flinch with the sudden sound, not expecting it. I take it for what it is, ‘Come here. Now.’ and bounce over to him, all too delighted that he’s demanding me to do obey.
Not only did he reassure me that he’d separate me from others who make any sort of move on me, but he also made sure I knew my place, if only temporary, is next to and obeying him. Not to mention that he did so in the presence of one of my friends, effortlessly took control of what was happening, and reestablished any dominance over me that could have been lost. All while sitting, not a single move to stand up. Merely laid back and seemingly calm. Standing up and physically dragging me to sit down wouldn’t be nearly as domineering as him expecting me to obey a single unspoken demand. The entire exchange of power is arousing and pleasing on a whole other level. I love it, the whole feeling of having to think about what Lewis wants me to do, having nothing to do other than please him and listen to him, without any stress or anxiety. Just trust in Lewis and be a good boy. It’s freeing and it covers me in a warm fuzzy sensation.
I very well hop in place at Lewis’s side, like an eager puppy wanting a walk or treat, with a beaming grin. Ryan shuffles more into the room, watching us closely as he takes a seat on the end of the couch, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Lewis throws me an amused smirk, allowing me to stand at his feet and fidget in anticipation of what he’ll do with Ryan here. Then his hand on the armrest skims slowly and lightly up the side of my thigh to my waist, where he guides me around his knee and lifts me onto his lip as if my weight is non-existent. I’m settled sideways on his thighs, his ankle on his knee keeping me from sliding off. I’m facing Ryan with my side pressed against Lewis’s chest, his long arms curling around me.
The movie on the tv is still paused and Lewis leans forward slightly to grab the remote and the bag of almonds on the coffee table, he squishes me but is careful, his arm tightening to make sure I stay in place. He drops the almonds in my lap as he switches the tv back to the live channels, his body relaxed fully and he calmly nuzzles against my neck and shoulder. I’m grinning, content, and nearly forget about Ryan until my friend clears his throat.
My eyes go wide at his glare to Lewis, vaguely wondering why everyone is against him besides CeCe. Giving Lewis a gentle slap to his chest to gain his full attention, “Oh! Ryan, this is Lewis. Lewy, this is my friend Ryan. Be nice, you big dog, say hi to him.”
Ryan flicks his eyes to Lewis as the Scotsman raises his head from my throat to give me an amused smirk, my friend has worry in his eyes and for a second I’m confused as to why that is and why he’s worried when nothing is happening. It isn’t until he flitches to get up when Lewis shifts his arm higher on my waist, that I understand. He thinks Lewis will hurt me for what I said. He saw Lewis, his size and his tattoos, and his rugged appearance, and the first thought he had was that I was being abused. It fazes me to the point I feel helplessness begins to invade me, first Miss Parry and now Ryan hates or is judging Lewis. I don’t know what to do to prove that Lewis won’t and never will harm me, he is a good man and has already taken care of me enough that he should be in their good graces.
“Halò, Ryan,” Lewis speaks, giving Ryan a nod in greeting. His hand that isn’t at my hip, rubbing my thigh soothingly.
Ryan observes the action, eyebrows furrowing. “Uh, hey.”
He glances around at the table, spotting the stack of movies and the pile of snacks that are mostly experiments to see what healthy snacks taste like. He appears confused again, “Was I interrupting something?”
Opening the bag of almonds, I shrug Lewis off my shoulder to feed him two of the salted nuts, thoroughly pleased when he allows me to. When I look back at Ryan, his eyes are wider than before. “We were having a date night in, or whatever you call it. Lewy has been at work a lot recently and we haven’t been able to get some alone time, not as much as I’d like at least. A movie marathon was in the works when you appeared with no warning. What are you doing here anyway? Don’t you work tomorrow, it’s the middle of the week.”
It’s one of the reasons I’m so shocked that he’s here, he normally works all week and his days are full of busy school assignments or coaching. It’s rare that he gets the days off and when he does, he spends them catching up on sleep or finishing his college work. I’m not complaining, I love that he came to visit, I’m just surprised and, now at least, disappointed that I can’t get him to like Lewis before Miss Parry corrupted his mind of him. He seems to have his mind made up already, and that makes me even more crestfallen because I never realized that Ryan judges so quickly on appearance.
Ryan watches me as I feed Lewis another almond, sees my grin when the Scotsman lets me place the nut on his tongue. He can tell when I’m content and happy, a perk of being friends with an ex, he can realize quickly enough that what he had expected, isn’t reality. My ex, who had seen me untroubled and smiling; serene, no doubt sees that now. I notice his body relaxes back into the couch a bit, the smile he gives is soft and genuine, and even if it doesn’t reach his eyes I can understand that he means it.
Then he drops the truth on me, wincing as he does, “Actually...I requested some time off. Uh, Miss Parry called me. Said some things that had me worried.”
Lewis goes tense and I feel his chest rumble subtly with a growl, his arms tightening on me. I agree with his reaction but I can’t make a noise like that, I tried before and it never worked. I merely wrap my arms around his neck and rest my head on his shoulder, the hopelessness returning. I had thought she saw the Lewis I do on that shopping trip, it appeared that way with the glares she spent disappearing and how she didn’t scoff or roll her eyes at the things he did or said. I should’ve known she’d never hear me begging while I bragged, never even trying to see him as I do. Deadset to stay on her selfish path to separate us for her own belief.
If she keeps this up Lewis will get tired of fighting for us, he’ll leave me because she’s too much and it shouldn’t be this hard to date and get to know each other, decide if we want a relationship. It’s been a month, plus maybe two or three weeks, if we can’t get past this then I don’t think there will be an official relationship. The thought saddens me, Lewis is the perfect man for me and my needs as a submissive, I see a future with him and want to explore what we could do together as a couple. I’ve grown attached to him and can’t imagine living without him, he just makes everything better and I’ve been the best me since he came into my life.
“What did she tell you?” Lewis demands, voice rough and angry yet his hand on my thigh is rubbing calmly and gently, his fingers on my hip, where his other hand is, are scratching softly. Both are sources for comfort.
Ryan shifts, glancing at me as if to convince Lewis not to maul him. I attempt to reassure him with a strained smile, I know Lewis won’t hurt him, no matter how angry he is, he won’t hurt one of my friends. A wall or go looking for a fight to get his anger out? Maybe. He hasn’t been angry enough to leave the room just yet, and I’m suspecting that he may be close to doing just that now. So I cling to him as tight as possible like I could ever hold him down. Lewis doesn’t move to get up, staring at Ryan with hard and dark eyes.
My ex-boyfriend cracks his knuckles, a nervous tick I noticed when we were together. He may be a dominant but he isn’t like Lewis, not all dominants act as Lewis does and Ryan was always more nervous in general. He avoids my stare, the stack of movies more interesting. “She called a few weeks ago, freaking out about how you got yourself into some trouble. I didn’t believe her at first, you spend your time locked up in here, what could’ve happened?”
He shrugs, “I was told you were dating some crazy controlling guy and that he wouldn’t let you do anything besides go to work. She was saying he was abusing you and that you were scared of him. I got worried and told her I’d come to help.”
“But I don’t need help.” It comes out sounding pathetic and depressed, like a pouting child that wasn’t allowed to get ice cream.
Lewis has been frozen still upon hearing what Ryan was told, not moving except for his hand and fingers. I feel his breathing had gotten increasing deeper, trying to calm himself down and work through his anger. Holding onto tighter I curse Miss Parry in my mind, feeling my eyes water. She had just lost my respect and trust. I could handle her not liking Lewis, I didn’t particularly enjoy it but I could handle it. Sometimes people just don’t get along, that’s okay and I could’ve said I tried my best.
But her taking it so far to tell someone that he was abusing me, hurting me enough to be genuinely scared of him? That’s over a line that shouldn’t have been there in the first place. She has no right whatsoever to be coming between us, I’m an adult and can choose my own partner, I can be in a relationship with whoever I want no matter her own beliefs. If she actually cared for my happiness as she claims, she would’ve left us alone and let me date the one who helps keep me happy. I had trusted her, looked up to her, went to her for advice when something was wrong, and let her comfort me when I was sad. Her accusing the man that I’m dating of beating me, hurting me, and bringing Ryan into it all is something I never thought she would do.
Ryan could’ve called the police and gotten Lewis sent to jail, she would have ruined his life. All for what? He hates his birth parents and is dating me. That’s ridiculous and insane, she can’t do that. She has officially lost any respect for her I had.
Ryan nods at my statement, another smile appearing on his lips but it seems just as sad as I feel. “I know, Tom. I’ll leave if you want me too, let you two talk.”
He shifts to get up, but freezes when Lewis comes alive from the deathly still statue he was imitating. The Scotsman gently sets me on the couch cushion as he stands up, tossing the almonds on the coffee table. His body is wound tight, muscle tense, and his green eyes the darkest green of ever seen, they’re hardened with unreleased rage. It’s intimidating with him towering over me, I’m not scared though, I’m worried.
“Lewy? Where are you going?” I move onto my knees, clinging to his arm as he gives me a short squeeze to the back of my neck and a kiss on my forehead.
He grunts, “Need ta calm down. Gonna call Bràthair, I’ll be back, Bonnie.”
I can assume what he means when he said he was going to call Seán, and I know sometimes a person just needs to do something to get past any anger. Lewis fights with his trusted brother to get his out and not lash out at me or anyone else. Accepting it, I nod and kiss his cheek before watching him stomp to the door. The tv shakes when it’s slammed shut.
The room is silent for a few minutes, so quiet I can hear when Lewis’s truck starts, loud and obnoxious, and him peeling out of his parking space. My body feels hollow as I slump back on the couch, understanding why Lewis left doesn’t mean I have to like it. The only thing I’m counting on is that he said he’d return, he hasn’t lied to me. Unlike someone, I know.
I bet Ryan is why Miss Parry was nervous, anxious to see how we’d react to hear her lies and see what would happen. If Lewis would finally leave for good. The joke is on her, Lewis will be staying and I’m the one leaving her. I don’t think I can look at her the same, not without picturing her smugly smirking as she told Ryan that Lewis, good and caring Lewis, was abusing me. What kind of person does that to another that thinks of them as a parental figure? It was weeks ago according to Ryan, she had plenty of time to tell him the truth. But she didn’t.
Ryan shuffles closer to me, wrapping me up in a hug. “Well. He was intimidating. Where’d you find him?”
For three hours I and Ryan catch up, speaking about how Lewis and I met, then to Ryans’ busy schedule with work and college. The mood of the room had brightened up a bit, we laughed and we had a nice time, yet at the same time, he knew I’m distracted and sad and waiting for Lewis. We don’t turn the movie Lewis and I were watching, I don’t suggest it because it feels wrong to continue what we had planned without the Scotsman here. Ryan doesn’t suggest it, assuming that I didn’t want to.
Ryan hadn’t once mentioned Miss Parry, asking about CeCe and what had been happening here or if I really liked Lewis and what I thought of the larger man so far into our dating. He was genuinely interested and explained that he was expecting something different than was happening when he came over. He thought Lewis was an abuser and his distrust showed, he apologized for it and said he’d tell Lewis the same thing. I do notice though, that my friend stares at me the way he did when we were dating; with love. I’m hesitant to call it romantic love rather than platonic love.
I love Ryan, as a friend. I don’t know what I’d do if he confessed he loved me right now. This is already a lot to take in.
It’s going on Ten-Thirty when the door opens, heavy footsteps entering and the door closes back- gently this time. I’m sitting up straighter, the explanation of why CeCe calls Lewis ‘Sexy Beef Master’ dying on my tongue, Ryan turns his head to the doorway when he realizes I’m not going to continue. He scrambles to put space between us as if we were going to get caught by his parents again. Lewis’s boots are loud and we can track his movement the short distance from the door to the living room doorway.
Said boots are dirty, dust and dirt on them going up the man’s pants. His knuckles have smears of blood on them and his shirt is just as dirty as his pants, his beard has blood flakes in it. His hair is a mess, tangled, and clumps of mud in it. His face has a large bruise on his cheek, his nose has blood under it and his bottom lip is bleeding from a cut in the middle of it. Although, through all of it, I notice his body is looser, relaxed and his eyes are lighter. His arms aren’t tensed, he has a faint tilt to his lips that could be a smile.
I’m running at him before I think it through, tackling him in a tight hug. He chuckles and wraps his arms around me, “Halò, Ghràdh.”
He smells of sweat and no matter how much I missed him, I can’t allow that to happen. “Lewy...take a shower, please. And why are you bleeding, that is your blood right? Not Seán’s, is he okay?”
He laughs, nodding. “Aye, the Glaikit is free of damage. ’Sides some bruises. My blood, got a bit of a bleedin nose.”
Pleased at that answer, I smile at him, feeling much better that he’s here. “Good. Now, shower please.”