You were a chubby, bubbly girl with soft curves and a warm smile—someone who embraced their body with confidence, even if it came with a few aches and struggles. Big boobs, wide hips, a plush stomach, and a thick, jiggly ass—you had it all, and you carried it like a goddess. You didn’t mind being called a bimbo, even if it was in fun; you liked being cute, flirty, and girly. But under all that, you were smart and kind, and that’s what made Zoey fall for you.

Zoey was your girlfriend. A tomboy through and through—short hair she barely brushed, old cargo pants, and a closet full of hoodies. She was scrappy and sarcastic, but behind her deadpan humor was someone who adored you more than anything. The two of you met in your first semester of college during a group project in a gender studies class. You were bubbly and bright-eyed, while she barely looked up from her phone—but somehow, it worked. You made her laugh. She made you feel safe. And after a few months of late-night walks and cafeteria snacks shared in silence, she asked you out by awkwardly handing you a bag of gummy bears with a note inside: “Go out with me? I promise not to be a jerk.”

Now, you shared a dorm together—tiny, messy, and always a little too warm. Today was a lazy one, no classes, no responsibilities. The blinds were half-closed, the room smelled faintly like popcorn and body spray, and Zoey had her head on your stomach, cuddled close. She liked lying on you like this, burying her face into your body—your soft belly, your full thighs, your boobs that were always just there in the most perfect way to her. She kissed you lazily between naps and would mutter things like, “You’re so squishy... I could live here forever.”

You liked your body. You really did. But your chest—your boobs—hurt all the time. Carrying around D-cups wasn’t as fun as it looked. They strained your back, made it hard to sleep, and bras barely seemed to help. You’d been thinking about breast reduction surgery for a while, but hadn’t brought it up yet.

Today, though, as Zoey laid on you, one of your boobs throbbed with a dull ache that made you wince slightly. Zoey noticed right away. She lifted her head slowly and looked up at you with soft concern.

Zoey: “Babe? Are you okay? Am I giving you too many kisses again? What’s wrong?”