The past haunts Jared sometimes. When he thinks back to what his old master did to him, how the man beat him and nearly starved him to death, his skin crawls. Even though it has been years, he can still remember the night Jensen found him, saved him.
His old master had deserted him. Took his collar and threw him away as if he were trash. No one else at the club seemed to notice, or care, what had happened to him. But one man did. One man who had a heart of pure gold. Broken and scared, Jared allowed the Dom, Jensen, as the green-eyed man introduced himself as, to take him home.
Inside the house, Jared sniffled softly, crying. The thunder rumbled and the lightning cracked as the wind howls on a cold, dark night. Jared stood in the bedroom shivering as the summer storm carried on outside. He endeavored to fight off the dearly gentle hands, which seek to remove his damp clothes, but Jensen is more vigorous, in willpower and strength, and it is a losing battle, therefore he submitted.
He wanted to shrivel up and hide away. He knew the ugliness Jensen would see once he is naked. Pale and jagged scars etch his skin. He is frail, skin rippling over ribbon ribs on a lean body far too thin. He cannot visually examine his reflection in the mirror; he closes his eyes as Jensen begins to undress him. The Master began with his sneakers, unlaced one at a time before tugging them off and setting them next to the bed. His soft, cotton socks roll off his feet afterward, gentle hands massaging the frail bones of his ankles.
Higher up, Jensen unlatched his belt, and Jared tries to stop him—he doesn’t want the kind man to see protruding bones jutting out, bones that would not be visible if he were not suffering from the ministrations of a man who starved him. Lips kiss his thin tummy through his damp shirt while doting and reassuring words whisper to him, calling him beautiful and perfect.
He is not beautiful. He is not perfect. He is flawed. Had been broken by a man he put his trust in.
But this man is kind, gentle. Promising not to hurt him. Jared believes him because Jensen's eyes hold a gaze of pure devotion and love--something Jared has not received in a long time. His shirt tumbles off his frail shoulders, and his arms curl over his chest to hide the hideousness from Jensen's gaze, but kind hands pull his arms down to his side to expose him.
Far too thin, his ribs are visible, his tummy and cheekbones sunken in. He cracks like a splintered mirror when Jensen looks at him like he is beautiful and perfectly perfect, doting on him no matter his imperfections.
The protective soul in Jensen snarls with how sickly and skinny this submissive is, but he promises to help the younger man overcome the past. He promises Jared a bright future, a time where love and happiness is all he will know.
FILL: J2, past abuse, hurt/comfort
His old master had deserted him. Took his collar and threw him away as if he were trash. No one else at the club seemed to notice, or care, what had happened to him. But one man did. One man who had a heart of pure gold. Broken and scared, Jared allowed the Dom, Jensen, as the green-eyed man introduced himself as, to take him home.
Inside the house, Jared sniffled softly, crying. The thunder rumbled and the lightning cracked as the wind howls on a cold, dark night. Jared stood in the bedroom shivering as the summer storm carried on outside. He endeavored to fight off the dearly gentle hands, which seek to remove his damp clothes, but Jensen is more vigorous, in willpower and strength, and it is a losing battle, therefore he submitted.
He wanted to shrivel up and hide away. He knew the ugliness Jensen would see once he is naked. Pale and jagged scars etch his skin. He is frail, skin rippling over ribbon ribs on a lean body far too thin. He cannot visually examine his reflection in the mirror; he closes his eyes as Jensen begins to undress him. The Master began with his sneakers, unlaced one at a time before tugging them off and setting them next to the bed. His soft, cotton socks roll off his feet afterward, gentle hands massaging the frail bones of his ankles.
Higher up, Jensen unlatched his belt, and Jared tries to stop him—he doesn’t want the kind man to see protruding bones jutting out, bones that would not be visible if he were not suffering from the ministrations of a man who starved him. Lips kiss his thin tummy through his damp shirt while doting and reassuring words whisper to him, calling him beautiful and perfect.
He is not beautiful. He is not perfect. He is flawed. Had been broken by a man he put his trust in.
But this man is kind, gentle. Promising not to hurt him. Jared believes him because Jensen's eyes hold a gaze of pure devotion and love--something Jared has not received in a long time. His shirt tumbles off his frail shoulders, and his arms curl over his chest to hide the hideousness from Jensen's gaze, but kind hands pull his arms down to his side to expose him.
Far too thin, his ribs are visible, his tummy and cheekbones sunken in. He cracks like a splintered mirror when Jensen looks at him like he is beautiful and perfectly perfect, doting on him no matter his imperfections.
The protective soul in Jensen snarls with how sickly and skinny this submissive is, but he promises to help the younger man overcome the past. He promises Jared a bright future, a time where love and happiness is all he will know.
(END)