#I’m drowning a bit this semester ngl

[babacontainsmultitudes]

Me: Okay so what are we gonna do tonight brain

Brain: we’re gonna do that work that we really need to get done

Me: Right, so what’s the first step

Brain: We’re gonna listen to some music

Me: Uh hm well okay but that’s not what I-

Brain: And we’re gonna think about that fanfic you want to write

Me: We’re gonna what

[mingi-s-dimples]

His love, a masterpiece in his eyes - Yeosang

KINKTOBER DAY 20, REQ. BY anon

~"Ateez Yeosang x Reader who self doubts. Please add squirting/ toys/ Yeosang using deepvoice/"

pairing: bf!yeosang x gf fem!reader

genre: 18+, soft smut

summary: You've been feeling insecure about... kinda everything, lately, and your sweet boyfriend decides to please you and show you just how much he loves you.

wc: 3.7k

warnings: mentions of body checking, mention of insecurities (remember to love yourself as you are ♡), use of toys, (vibrator), fingering, p in v, lots lots of praising, mirror sex duh, there's a slight slight the slightest hint of dom in yeosang *a speck*, i absolutely don't know what else I could add, unprotected (boo wrap up irl!), completely consensual, for sure forgot something, unedited might edit later.

Author's Note: Heyy guysss so this one is a little bit sad in the first part, the introductory part. Tho I absolutely love their dinamic ngl and he is def the person to praise tf out of you and for your pleasure. Enjoy ml! 💖 This fic is on the softer side btw.

Whoever feels down for whatever reason or insecurity that is bother you, please remember that you are your own person and everyone is left with oneself in the end. Cherish your body and mind to the fullest 🤍

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and does not represent the reality of the member.

It was a quiet afternoon. The soft hum of the wind blew through the slightly cracked window, carrying with it the crisp scent of fall. You sat cross-legged on the bed, your laptop open in front of you, textbooks scattered around, along with a haphazard assortment of notes, highlighters, and pens. You had been working on a particularly difficult assignment for hours now, the once-clear instructions now feeling like an incoherent jumble. The small ticking of the wall clock added to the already growing pressure in her chest.

The semester had been grueling so far—between lectures, exams, and papers, You barely had time to breathe. Today was supposed to be productive. Though, you could feel the beginnings of a familiar anxiety creeping up on you.

At first, it was just a small voice, a whisper of uncertainty.

"Maybe I’m not cut out for this."

You brushed it aside, trying to focus on the work. But the longer you stared at the assignments, the louder the voice grew, until it drowned out everything else. The once methodical clicking of your fingers on the keyboard slowed and eventually stopped. Shoulders slumped, and you let out a frustrated sigh, leaning back against the headboard.

“Why am I even trying?” you muttered to yourself. “I’ll never get it right.”

Your gaze shifted to the chaotic spread of materials around. There was a strange irony in the way the bed had started out as an organized workspace, but now it seemed to mirror your internal state: disarrayed, overwhelmed, and falling apart.

The spiral of thoughts that followed was inevitable. First, it was about your academic abilities. Maybe you weren’t smart enough for university, maybe you weren't disciplined enough, maybe you were just a fraud pretending to belong here. Then, like a wave crashing over, it expanded beyond school.

It wasn’t just your mind that wasn’t enough—it was your body too.

You stood from your bed, walking over to the mirror that hung on the back of the door. You hadn’t planned on looking at yourself. In fact, you avoided doing so on most days. But today, you couldn’t help it. You stared at the reflection, a lump forming in your throat as you scanned yourself from head to toe.

"Why can’t I just be… better?"

Your hands lightly grazed the stomach, then the thighs. The criticism in your mind was merciless. Every flaw seemed to be magnified in the mirror—every imperfection suddenly glaring and unforgiving. You weren’t just failing at school, you were failing at everything. Your body wasn’t the way you wanted it to be. You weren’t as put-together as everyone else seemed to be.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them back, shaking your head as if it could stop the flow of self-doubt. Though, it didn't last long until you started sobbing, thinking what could've been better. What could you do to make things better?

Hours passed, though you couldn’t tell how much time had gone by. The day outside had shifted into evening, and the room was now bathed in the dim, golden glow of the sunset.

Just then, the familiar sound of keys jingling in the door echoed through the apartment. Yeosang was home from his classes. He had his late university lectures today, and he often stayed behind for extra work. Normally, you loved hearing him come home. He brought with him a calming presence that made you feel at ease, but right now, you weren’t sure how you’d explain the tears or the chaos that built up.

The door creaked open, and Yeosang’s voice, soft and warm, filled the apartment. “Y/N, I’m home!”

There was no response from you. You tried to wipe away the tears quickly, though the red and puffy eyes betrayed you.

“Y/N?” Yeosang stepped into the room, his gaze immediately landing on you. Concern etched across his face as he took in the sight of your tear-stained cheeks and the disheveled mess surrounding. He walked over to you quickly, his eyes full of worry. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

But Yeosang wasn’t one to be fooled by half-hearted reassurances. He knelt down in front of you, gently taking your hands into his. “You don’t have to hide from me,” he said softly. “I can see you’re not fine.”

You sighed shakily, the lump in your throat returning as you tried to explain. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this. School. Life. Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I don’t feel good enough.” voice cracked as you spoke, and the tears you had tried to hold back threatened to spill over again. “I feel like I’m failing. And… and I don’t even feel good in my own skin.”

Yeosang’s heart broke at your words. He reached up, gently cupping your tear-streaked face. His thumb brushed away the lingering wetness under your eyes. “Y/N, you are more than enough. You’re smart, you’re capable, and you’re doing so much more than you give yourself credit for.”

You looked at him, eyes searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was his genuine concern and affection. “I just don’t feel it. I don’t feel… enough.”

Yeosang moved beside you on the bed, wrapping his arms around, pulling you close to your head resting against his chest. “You are everything to me,” he whispered. “Do you know how amazing you are? You work so hard. You always push yourself, even when you’re feeling like this. That takes so much strength.”

His words were soft, comforting. Slowly, the tension in your body began to ease as you listened to him. “And as for not feeling good in your own skin… I think you’re perfect. Every part of you is beautiful to me.”

You lifted your head slightly, teary eyes meeting his. “You really think that?”

Yeosang replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You are beautiful, inside and out. And I love every bit of you.”

Your heart warmed at his words, the self-doubt that had consumed you earlier now fading into the background. You sniffled softly, hand resting on his chest as you looked at him.

“Thank you,” you whispered, voice barely above a breath.

Yeosang smiled gently, leaning down to kiss you softly. It was a tender, lingering kiss, filled with affection and reassurance. There was no rush, no need for words. His lips on yours conveyed everything he felt for you, and you kissed him back, feeling the love and warmth in every gentle movement.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, foreheads pressed together, breaths mingling, Yeosang’s voice was barely a whisper as he spoke.

“You’re enough, Y/N. You always will be.”

Yeosang’s hand remained at the back of your neck, gently pulling you closer, his touch grounding and tender. His eyes, dark with care, held yours as he leaned in again, his lips meeting yours with a warmth that felt like home. Every kiss seemed to melt away the doubts and insecurities you had just confessed, his steady presence calming the storm within.

"Do you know how much I admire you?" he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. "The way you keep going, the way you face everything—even when it feels impossible. You're more than you know."

His words sank deep, wrapping around your heart. You felt him take your hand and press it to his chest, right over the steady beat of his heart. "I need you to feel how real this is," he said, his thumb tracing small circles over your hand. "How much I love every part of you—inside and out."

With every touch, he seemed to be silently telling you, showing you how precious you were in his eyes. He moved his hand to the small of your back, pulling you close, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt seen, cherished, and beautiful in his gaze.

“Trust me,” he whispered, a soft smile playing on his lips. "There's no one else I want, no one else I need... just you.”

Yeosang's hands moved to your shoulders, his touch gentle yet full of purpose. His fingers grazed your collarbone, tracing a slow, reverent path as though he were memorizing every inch of you. His eyes roamed over your face, filled with a quiet awe that made your heart race.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he murmured, his voice like a soft caress. His hands slid down your arms, his thumbs brushing over your skin in soothing strokes. “Every part of you… I want you to see yourself the way I see you.”

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the corner of your jaw, his lips lingering as though he never wanted to let go. His fingers trailed down, resting on the curve of your waist, pulling you close. His kisses moved down to your shoulder, each one slow, deliberate, a whispered promise of his devotion.

As his fingers found the hem of your shirt, he paused, looking into your eyes for permission, his gaze soft and respectful. When you gave a slight nod, he gently lifted the fabric, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed each inch of your skin. He took his time, as though he wanted to savor every moment, his hands gliding up your sides, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his hands moving slowly, reverently. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing tender kisses along your shoulder and down your arm, his every touch filled with a quiet reverence. "Every inch of you is beautiful to me."

Yeosang’s hands continued to trace your skin as he whispered to you, his voice a soft and reverent murmur.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said, stepping back slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. He watched you with quiet admiration, his own breaths coming a little faster as he took in every part of you, clearly moved by the beauty he saw in you. With a gentle smile, he began to undress, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it fall away before his hands moved to his jeans. You noticed the hint of his own desire, a warm flush on his face. His now hard cock straining against the zipper of his jeans, a little wet spot forming right where the tip was, dripping with pre cum.

Your eyes met his, and you couldn’t help but smile, your voice soft but filled with longing. “I want you, Yeosang. I want to feel all of you,” you murmured, letting your words linger between you both.

He nodded, his gaze tender yet full of a deep affection as he finished undressing. As he moved back toward you, he paused for a moment, as if taking in the moment itself, letting himself fully appreciate the trust and connection you were sharing. With a gentle, steady hand, he guided himself over you, his body fitting perfectly against yours as he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours.

Then, with one slow, purposeful motion, he closed the distance between you, grounding you both in a quiet, shared rhythm. His hands travelled on your thighs, his eyes full of admiration, and as he was feeling you up, he never stopped whispering those soft reassurances, each word a reminder of how much you meant to him. It was a quiet, powerful closeness—an unspoken promise that he would be there, lifting you up in every moment.

“May I-?” he asked, voice deeper than you expected, but you loved that side of him. His deep, sultry voice always sent a shiver through you. You nodded, and his hand traveled lower on your legs. You were completely bare in front of him, your own arousal dripping on the bed. He took a deep breath before his kiss trailed off from your knees to your thighs, then to your inner thighs and to your lower belly, as close as possible to your cunt. He stopped for a moment, and looked into your eyes. “You're so pretty.. just like this.

His fingers moved with a steady, knowing rhythm, pushing deeper with just the right pressure that made every nerve come alive beneath his touch. The way he watched you, eyes dark and intense, sent another thrill through your body. His thumb found that sensitive spot, circling it slowly, building an ache that made you cling to him, helplessly following the pace he set. Each breath felt heavier, a deep, pulsing heat coiling tight inside you, desperate for release.

As his fingers moved faster, pressing deeper, he murmured low praises, his lips grazing your skin, heightening every sensation with words that made you feel cherished and desired. His voice was rich, a soft command and encouragement that pushed you higher. “That’s it, just like that,” he whispered, his tone coaxing and gentle, each word grounding you as he brought you closer and closer to that peak.

Finally, the pressure shattered, sending wave after wave of euphoria rushing through you, your whole body trembling with each pulse. He didn’t stop, keeping his touch firm and steady, easing you down slowly, drawing out every last bit of sensation until you felt like you were floating, entirely weightless in his hold.

As the tremors faded, he eased his fingers back with a gentleness that made you melt into the bed. His hand caressed your thigh, grounding you, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin. He leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just above your heart, his gaze filled with a quiet adoration. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, his words a gentle echo that brought you back down, cradling you in the warmth of his presence. With each slow breath, you felt yourself relax, sinking into a calm afterglow, his hand never leaving you, holding you close, safe, and utterly cherished.

He kept his gaze locked on you, his eyes soft and full of reverence as he took in every inch of you, almost as if memorizing each detail. "You're beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing gentle lines down your arm, over your waist, and lingering where his touch had left its mark. "Every single part of you… absolutely breathtaking." His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, a reverent tone that left no doubt in your mind about how he saw you.

Leaning closer, he brushed a thumb over your cheek, his eyes searching yours before his lips met yours in a kiss, soft at first, like a silent promise. But as the kiss deepened, his hand slipped down to your back, pulling you flush against him. You felt the warmth and firmness of his body pressing close, and the tension between you both sparked alive again, a slow burn igniting into something more intense.

With a gentle shift, he eased himself forward, closing the distance completely. The moment he slid inside you, a low, deep moan escaped him, his voice raw and full of pleasure. The sound reverberated through his chest, pressing against you as he buried himself fully, his breath mingling with yours in the shared closeness. He stayed still, savoring the feeling, his forehead resting against yours as he breathed in deeply, grounding himself in the intimacy between you.

The warmth of his hands, the depth of his gaze—it all blended into one powerful connection, a quiet moment suspended in time. His fingers brushed tenderly along your spine as he murmured against your lips, "You’re… perfect." And as he began to move slowly, his body pressing closer with each motion, his words were a steady rhythm, a mix of praise and awe. Every movement, every whispered compliment became a shared heartbeat, drawing you into him, grounding you both in a moment that felt boundless and endlessly safe.

Yeosang’s rhythm was slow, deliberate, each thrust grounding you both in the moment, his hands firm and possessive on your hips, holding you close as his deep voice murmured soft praises against your skin. With each movement, he brought you to the edge, his quiet intensity a powerful force that left you clinging to him, savoring the way he filled every part of you.

Then he stilled, his breath warm against your shoulder as he pressed a kiss there. "I want you to see yourself… the way I see you," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence. Gently, he lifted you, his arms cradling you for a moment before he turned you over, guiding you onto your belly and positioning you so you were facing the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

With one hand on your lower back, he leaned over you, his chest grazing your spine as he slowly pressed into you again. His hand remained firm on your lower back, grounding you, while the other held your waist, pulling you closer so you could feel every inch of him. His movements were unhurried, each thrust deep and steady, designed to keep you connected, to let you feel the weight of his presence with every inch.

In the mirror, his gaze stayed locked on you, his expression one of awe as he took in the sight of you beneath him, every curve and line reflected back. His deep voice resonated through you, soft words spilling out as he praised the beauty he saw, the admiration clear in his tone. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver down your spine as he pressed even closer, the fullness of his presence grounding you in the here and now.

He shifted slightly, angling his hips so that each movement brought him as deep as possible, his grip on your waist keeping you close, pulling you back to meet each thrust. His hand trailed over your lower back, anchoring you, his praise a steady rhythm in time with his movements. Watching you in the mirror, he let out a low, appreciative sound, his gaze never leaving the sight of you, wrapped in his embrace, vulnerable and cherished in a way that only he could make you feel.

As he moved within you, his rhythm slow and deep, you felt the heat rise in your cheeks, a soft flush spreading across your face as you glanced away, shy under the intensity of his gaze. Sensing your hesitation, Yeosang’s hand moved from your waist to your chin, his fingers gentle but firm as he tilted your face toward the mirror, guiding your gaze to meet his reflection.

“Don’t look away,” he whispered, his voice low and soothing, his eyes holding yours in the mirror. His thumb brushed tenderly along your jawline, his hand steady as he kept your face tilted, making sure you could see yourself exactly the way he did. “I want you to see what I see.”

He leaned over you, his lips grazing your ear as he spoke. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, his words filled with quiet reverence. His gaze roamed over you, taking in every line and curve, admiration clear in the way he looked at you. “Your body… it’s perfect, exactly as it is,” he whispered, his hand returning to your waist, pulling you back against him so you could feel every inch of him, grounding you in his touch.

With each gentle thrust, he continued his praise, his deep voice resonating through you, filling you with warmth and reassurance. His hand on your chin slid down to rest on your shoulder, anchoring you as he held you close, his gaze never straying from yours in the mirror. “I wish you could see yourself the way I do,” he murmured, his tone a soft, steady reminder of how deeply he cherished every part of you.

With a few final, deep thrusts, Yeosang’s breathing grew heavier, his low, quiet moans filling the room as he buried himself completely within you. His hands tightened on your waist, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he rode out his high, each sound he made a low, reverent murmur in your ear. As the last wave passed through him, his movements slowed, gentle and lingering, savoring the closeness as he gradually stilled.

He stayed like that for a moment, holding you close, his hands grounding you as he caught his breath. Then, carefully, he lifted you up, his arms wrapped around you with a tenderness that made you feel cherished, entirely wrapped up in his embrace. Gently, he settled you in his lap, angling you so you could see the aftermath of his passion, the warmth of him still lingering as his arousal dripped from you.

With a quiet intensity in his gaze, he slowly spread your legs, his fingers gliding over your skin with a reverence that made your pulse quicken. “Look at you,” he murmured, his voice low, almost a whisper as he held you close, guiding you to take in the view. “You’re a masterpiece,” he added, his words soft yet full of pride, his hands tender and steady as he let you see yourself through his eyes, appreciating every inch with a quiet awe that made the moment feel intimate and entirely yours.

With a gentle strength, Yeosang wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his warmth surrounding you completely. He held you close, pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head as his hands ran soothingly over your back. After a moment, he scooped you up, cradling you against his chest, and carried you toward the bathroom, his gaze soft and full of care.

In the shower, he was attentive, his touch gentle as he helped you wash away the remnants of the night. His fingers combed through your hair, his hands moving with a tenderness that made you feel cherished. He stayed close, his quiet presence a comforting warmth as the water cascaded over both of you, easing away any lingering tension.

As the steam filled the space around you, you looked up at him, your heart swelling with gratitude and affection. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice soft but sincere. “I love you, Yeosang.” Your hand reached up, brushing lightly along his cheek as you held his gaze. “I can’t be myself without you… I’m not complete without you.”

His eyes softened, and he pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours as a gentle smile spread across his face. “You’re everything to me,” he murmured, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. He held you like he never wanted to let go, his embrace grounding you as you stood there together, feeling whole, connected, and perfectly safe in each other’s arms.

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