Soft Things Rot First (Hypersexuality)

❗️TW❗️:GROOMING, VIOLENCE, HYPERSEXUALITY

It's filthy disgusting

So ugly, I'm sure

I'm ugly, disgusting

And filthy for sure

To the world, he’s just another university student — lighthearted, charming, a little scattered. He laughs with friends, flirts between lectures, brings his boyfriend tea in the mornings and leaves silly notes tucked inside textbooks. But inside, he’s still thirteen. Still waiting for someone to say: “You don’t have to give yourself away to be loved.”

This isn’t a story about rebellion.

It’s not about promiscuity.

It’s about survival.

About a boy who once mistook exploitation for affection. Who learned that love must be earned — with obedience, with silence, with his body. Who grew up believing that shame was just another form of attention.

Now, he’s trying.

He’s trying so hard.

To be present. To be whole. To stay.

But trauma doesn’t vanish with good intentions — it festers in the quiet. In locked bathroom doors. In bleeding names carved into skin. In hours spent shaking in the dark, begging no one to see.

And beside him — someone who refuses to look away.

Someone who wraps him in a towel instead of anger.

Someone who says: “You’re worthy. Without the bruises. Without the pain. Simply because you exist.”

It will be hard.

It will hurt.

But maybe — in this new apartment, where the walls are painted like the childhood drawing he once hid in the back of a desk — there is room for softness.

Room for stillness.

Room for healing.

Room for a love that doesn’t take — but stays.

There were a lot of name options

The boy who performed love

You love me when i bleed

Tenderness i9s lie

What my body knows

Thirteen forever

but I settled on "Soft things rot first"