A city illuminated by neon reflections, midnight conversations, and silk moving through crowded streets long after dark.
Midnight in Hong Kong is a collection inspired by the growing influence of modern asian silhouettes in contemporary fashion â blending elegant qipao-inspired cuts with softer, more wearable shapes designed for everyday styling. rather than recreating traditional garments, the goal was to reinterpret those details through a more modern and cinematic lens: high slits, asymmetric closures, delicate necklines, and flowing evening silhouettes.
This collection was heavily inspired by modern nightlife fashion, contemporary asian streetwear, and the way traditional influences are currently being reimagined within luxury and ready-to-wear fashion spaces â¨
Each piece was designed to feel versatile enough to move between elegant eveningwear and more casual street-style inspired looks depending on how you style your sims.
ITEMS
Qipao Top - 15 swatches
Dragon Pants - 14 swatches
Akari Dress - 12 swatches
Lotus Top - 12 swatches
Lotus Skirt - 12 swatches
Kowloon Dress - 15 swatches
Qipao Dress - 15 swatches
COLOR PALETE
RELEASE DATES [dd/mm/yyyy]
Early Access 29/05/2026
Public Access 26/06/2026
Thank you so much for all the support on my recent collections lately! I honestly had so much fun working on this one and I really hope youâll enjoy it as much as I did creating it đ
Tags: No Use of Y/N for Reader-Insert; AFAB Reader-Insert; Friends to Lovers; Romantic Tension; Sexual Tension; There Was Only One Bed; Kissing; Vaginal Fingering; Blow Jobs; Dominant Albert Wesker; Creampie; Unsafe Sex; Soft Albert Wesker
Word Count: 5,008
Summary: You've been successfully ignoring your feelings and attraction for Wesker for months now, but when a mishap at the hotel you're staying in forces you and Wesker to share not only a room, but also a bed, you're not so sure how the night will end.
Also on Ao3: Here
a/n: This is directly inspired by this tumblr post by @futabasglasses I saw almost a month ago. I've been meaning to write this fic ever since I saw it but I kept getting distracted by my other ideas and the mountain of requests I still have đđŤŁ
Also idk how good I am at building tension ngl. I'm a very impatient person and even in my bedtime scenarios I speed up the story until I get to the part where 'insert character here' is fucking me silly and/or falling in love with me đ¤Łđ so I hope I captured the feeling of months-long tension coming to a head between two adults who know what they want and go for it?? Idk man.
Your leg is bouncing up and down as you wait for the plane to land. The sounds of people chattering all around you or trying to retrieve their carry-on luggage, the flight attendants walking up and down the aisle to assist people with questions or to remind them to remain seated until the seatbelt sign turns off â all of it is grating on your patience and making you feel irritated and grumpy. You grip the arm rest on your left and let it go in quick succession, trying to let go of all the restless energy that's been building up in you the entire flight here.
On your left, Wesker sighs deeply and places his hand on your knee abruptly to calm your agitated bouncing down. It feels like your skin catches fire under his touch even through the two combined layers of your pants and his gloves but you stop your jittery movements as soon as his palm makes contact with your knee.
âYou're like an overgrown chihuahua sometimes,â he berates you with an annoyed click of his tongue.
âAs if you aren't tired of flying back and forth on commercial flights just as much as I am,â you bite back, rolling your eyes at his tone.
Truthfully, it's not the flight that has you so eager to get up and stretch your legs. It's the man sitting next to you. And his infernal touch that still hasn't left your knee despite you getting your leg under control.
Ever since the Arklay Mountains, you and Wesker have been joined at the hip. Betraying your S.T.A.R.S. colleagues came rather easy when you'd never liked them much to begin with. And when Wesker, who you already liked much better in comparison, promised you that you would be able to finally unleash your full academic potential by his side, given free reign to study the things that truly interested you and have a hand in shaping the world in your vision as his partner⌠It really was a no brainer.
But the problem with this entire arrangement is that you are with Wesker all. the. time. Where he goes, you follow. The two of you have been traveling to what feels like every corner of the world as he gathers sponsors and allies for his endeavours, which you don't mind in and of itself, but it does get unbearable when all you see is his sharp, angular side profile in your peripheral vision and all you can smell is his subtle but arresting cologne. His proximity almost burns, like ice applied directly to your scorching skin, and it takes everything in you to keep your breathing even and your eyes trained on his gaze instead of all the inappropriate responses your body would rather you gave in.
Usually it's slightly more bearable once you land and part ways for at least a few hours while you each disappear inside your own hotel room in whatever city you're stuck in at that moment, showering to get the stink of airplane off of you and sometimes even taking a nap to make up for the constant jetlag.
But that blessed break is still at least an hour away, if not more. And this has been a long flight, full of every one of your senses being hyper aware of Wesker's every change in breathing, every time he shifted in his seat, every annoyed sigh that escaped his perfect, soft, kissable lips at being forced to fly commercial because he simply cannot afford the luxury of private jets at the moment. And every time his hand accidentally brushed the back of yours, every time his shoulder leaned into your own for just a few heartbeats, you thought you were going to explode.
âI am,â Wesker admits. His tired voice breaks you out of your stupor and makes you realise that you've been staring blankly at his hand on your knee since he put it there, so you rip your eyes away and instead direct them towards your window so you can watch the rapidly approaching ground. âBut I can at least control my baser impulses and not shake the whole plane up with my fidgeting.â
You make the mistake of turning towards him to stick your tongue out at him, rather childishly, but the sight of those gorgeous, inhuman eyes staring at you over the rim of his glasses in a rather unimpressed way makes you abort the gesture before you can make it. Wesker's thumb rubs against your knee, almost absently, as the two of you are locked in a tense, silent exchange, but when the movement makes your leg jolt involuntarily, the spell is broken and he finally pulls his hand away as he clears his throat and pushes his glasses back up his nose, turning away from you to glare in the direction of the rest of the plane instead.
You breathe out heavily and turn your head back again as well.
It's been like this for weeks, months even. Tension, ever growing and ever more unbearable with every moment that passes, moments where time seems to stop and you both stay trapped in the other's orbit, but when neither of you makes a move the world always comes crashing down upon you like a bucket of ice water in the middle of winter and cuts through the tension like a hot knife through butter. It's frustrating.
But you won't be the one to break first. You can't. If things go wrong, if Wesker rejects you, if things become awkward, where will you go then? What will you do? You left everything behind, betrayed everyone you knew in Raccoon City, labeled yourself a criminal at best and a bio-terrorist at worst through your actions in Spencer's Mansion and your continued association with Albert Wesker â there is nothing but extensive jail time waiting for you if you ever leave Wesker's side. But perhaps more than that, in a much more sentimental way, you just don't want to leave his side. You like it here. You enjoy his company and his input and his help. You like his dry humour and his way above average intelligence and that he encourages you to aim ever higher in your pursuit of knowledge and answers without ever putting you down to make himself feel smarter. He's the ideal partner, academically speaking of course. You don't want to lose that.
But since Wesker doesn't seem inclined to act on any of the tension between you either, it seems like you are forced to keep living in this purgatory of will-they-won't-they for the foreseeable future. No biggie.
The journey to the hotel Wesker booked for you is long and arduous but you somehow manage to survive without bashing your head against the nearest tough surface to get some relief. Sitting pressed up against him in the backseat of the cab he hailed for you was quite literally torture. You're determined to put that on your CV if you ever need to find another job again as proof of your ability to withstand high pressure situations.
But finally, at long last, you are walking through the revolving doors of the hotel and walking towards the reception desk, blessedly empty at this time of night. You let Wesker approach the clerk to get you checked in since he's much better at handling these matters than you, and try not to fall asleep on your feet during the wait.
Wesker, however, comes back to you with a quietly thunderous expression that wakes you up immediately and makes you straighten up your back in anticipation of whatever bad news he's bringing.
âIs something wrong?â you ask warily, already imagining all sorts of scenarios, the most likely being that something went wrong with the booking and now you have nowhere to sleep until tomorrow's meeting. Although you have an inkling that the man behind the reception desk wouldn't be in one piece anymore if that were the case.
âThey double booked one of the rooms and the other person arrived a few hours before us so it's already taken. There are no other rooms available at this moment,â Wesker grits out, the muscle in his jaw jumping in anger as he clenches it so hard you can almost imagine the sound of his teeth grinding into dust.
Uneasiness floods through you at his words, brows furrowing as you take the new information in and puzzle over it while you absentmindedly worry at your lower lip with your teeth. Wesker's eyes are drawn to the unconscious gesture like a moth to a flame but you don't know that since his eyes are completely hidden by the dark lenses of his glasses.
âSo, what? We're gonna have to share?â
Wesker nods tightly in response as his gloved fingers wrap around the room key clutched in his palm tighter, making the leather creak.
âGreat! Awesome! Magnificent!â you exclaim sarcastically, beyond tired and just ready to get this entire exhausting day over with at this point. âWell, one night in the same room won't kill us, I suppose. We're adults, we can share a bed without resorting to violence, can't we?â
As if violence is what you're worried about here.
âIndeed,â Wesker agrees, sounding just as thrilled as you about the prospect, then takes your luggage before you can and leads the way to the elevators. You follow behind and try to convince yourself that sharing a room with Wesker â a bed even â isn't going to be the hardest thing you've ever done. You don't really succeed.
The moment you walk into the room and your eyes fall upon the bed â big enough for two people, since your accommodation is the one thing Wesker always refuses to compromise on, but still too narrow for comfort â your heart starts thudding in your chest like you're being hunted for sport. You can't even look at Wesker when you ask if it's alright for you to take the shower first.
âGo ahead. I have a few phone calls to make regardless.â
You don't waste any more time, just grab what you need from your suitcase and book it out of there, closing the bathroom door behind you and letting out a relieved sigh when the lock clicks softly in its wake.
You throw some cold water on your face to try and calm yourself down while the shower warms up. There are bags under your eyes, the results of too many plane trips and late nights spent obsessing over your research, and you look like you could drop dead at any moment due to exhaustion. You look your reflection in the eye and try to will yourself to stay strong and just get through the night. You've had sleepovers as a kid and you survived just fine, right? Why should this be any different?
Wesker is still on the phone when you come out of the shower, pacing the length of the balcony attached to your room and looking vaguely displeased but not fully angry. You let him be as you pad towards the bed and open up your suitcase again, then take out the hairdryer and plug it in. Wesker comes back inside, the balcony door clicking shut behind him as he puts his phone away, while you're in the middle of drying your hair, so he only nods in your direction before he disappears inside the bathroom for his turn at a shower.
You don't wait up for him as you get ready for bed. You complete your bedtime routine as usual, pull out a water bottle from the minifridge in the corner in case you get thirsty in the night, then slide into bed and close your eyes with a sigh. Your back aches from being stuck in that airplane seat for hours, which makes getting comfortable a chore, but worse than that â it's cold. Much colder than you prefer. You pull the blanket up to your nose and curl up on your side, trying to get yourself warmed up and hoping that the chill is only because you recently came out of the shower.
When the bathroom door opens and Wesker steps out, you almost choke on your spit, your temperature problem flying out the window and smashing against the pavement violently as it reaches the ground. You think you might be close to doing the same thing yourself.
That is a lot of skin, is your one and only coherent thought as you watch Wesker walk casually towards his luggage and pull out his sleep clothes. The towel wrapped around his body, barely clinging to his hips and sitting so low that you can see the seductive and tantalising Adonis belt you never considered Wesker might have been hiding behind his clothes this entire time, seems superfluous at this point. His chest is pale and flawless, still slightly damp from the moisture that built up in the bathroom, and you want to whimper when your eyes catch on his erect nipples and the fine hairs creating a happy trail that disappears under the towel, only visible because of the water droplets glistening in the bright light of the room.
Did he really have to walk out like this? Surely he could have taken his clothes with him when he went in the bathroom, like a normal person!
A cough breaks out when you try to swallow and your saliva goes down the wrong pipe, which draws Wesker's golden eyes to you and makes him frown in concern in your direction.
âAre you alright? You're not catching a cold, are you?â
You'd assume the concern is only for himself not wanting to catch it as well if you didn't already know that he's immune to mundane things like the common cold after injecting himself with Birkin's prototype. Which makes it an actually genuine show of concern, which is not helping with your problem at the moment. You shake your head in the negative and busy yourself with taking a sip of water while you try to avoid his gaze and, more importantly, his naked chest.
âI'm fine,â you reply with a weak smile before you change the subject. âI hope I didn't, uhm, take your side or something. Of the bed, I mean.â
Wesker frowns at you some more, his eyes narrowed in on you like an X-ray machine as he makes sure you're telling the truth and nothing is wrong with you, before he shakes his head. The movement makes his damp hair, limp and unstyled for the first time since you've met him, flop into his eyes rather adorably and it makes your cheeks warm up to see him in such a natural state. He almost looks harmless like this â soft and unguarded, without claws or sharp angles you could cut yourself against if you weren't careful.
Almost.
âIt's irrelevant to me, dear. I've slept in worse places.â
Well, not exactly a glowing endorsement for the prospect of sleeping next to you and not the thing you want to hear from the man you're crushing on, but it's better than the alternative, you suppose. Which alternative? You have no idea. Any of them. All of them. Take your pick.
You hum noncommittally in response and avert your eyes when the bastard doesn't even bother disappearing back into the bathroom to change after retrieving his clothes. He just slips his boxers under the towel after he takes a seat on the edge of the bed, his broad back turned to you, and you have to bite your lip as you stare up at the ceiling and beg for mercy.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity of pain and suffering during which you try to keep cool and fail miserably, Wesker turns off all the lights and slips into bed next to you. The room is silent in the aftermath of the bed springs squeaking under his weight â almost deafeningly so. The oppressive quiet makes you want to hold your breath so you won't disturb it but that would be silly. Instead, you heave a big sigh and turn away from Wesker, facing the other way and trying to ignore the prickle of tension at your nape as you expose your back to the dangerous predator in the room whom you also have the hots for, and close your eyes.
âGoodnight, Wesker,â you murmur softly.
âGoodnight, dear.â
His voice is like melted chocolate on your spine as it washes over you, which makes you sigh again into your pillow, much quieter this time, but you close your eyes tight and force yourself to ignore any and all body tingles he elicits in favour of going to sleep.
Exhaustion is a wonderful thing. In spite of all your â well founded â fears regarding sharing a bed with Wesker, you manage to fall asleep fairly quickly, after only minimal tossing and turning to find a comfortable position. You even sink into a restful sleep with dreams that don't exhaust your brain more than rest it. But at some point in the night, when the sky is only just beginning to lighten outside of your hotel room windows, you wake up, groggy and disoriented, and find yourself pressed up against something very warm and much more solid than the mattress.
At first, your tired mind dismisses any attempts at a rational thought as you just snuggle closer into the source of heat under you, gripping it tightly and hiking your leg up higher so you can get as much warmth from it as possible. But when you feel an arm twitching around your waist and warm breathing puffing up against your face, you freeze in place as you wake up for real and realise what's going on.
Wesker is under you. Wesker is the one you're climbing like a tree. You are cuddling Wesker and he has his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you close.
Your lungs stop working as you start to panic. You completely freeze up.
You want to pull yourself away, just scramble backwards until you're firmly back on your side of the bed and try to forget about the whole thing. But not only can you not bring yourself to move even a single muscle right now, you're also afraid that moving away now might wake him up. The last thing you want is for Wesker to be aware that you are cuddling under the covers in the dead of night.
As your mind spirals, strategies and increasingly desperate scenarios building up in your head and being discarded just as quickly, you fail to notice Wesker's breathing change as it goes from deep and rhythmic to something much more controlled and aware. His hand tightens on your hip, his fingers twitching against the warm skin exposed to his touch from where your shirt rode up in your sleep, and that's when you become aware that he's awake.
âIf you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask, dearest,â Wesker breaks the silence, his voice raspy from sleep and sending all kinds of delicious shivers down your spine. Embarrassed, you hide your face in his shirt but don't move away from him. âOh, don't be shy now. I won't bite, I promise.â
âYou're such an asshole, do you know that?â you groan.
âI've been told, yes,â he hums as his hand starts caressing your skin, travelling slowly upwards from your waist and pushing your shirt up further, just for a few inches before it goes back down where it dips slightly into the waistband of your pants. The touch makes your head spin and breath catch, but you don't push it away or try to get away from it. If anything, you lean into it further.
âAre we finally⌠talking about it?â Your voice sounds small in the dark expanse of the room, which you hate, but you tell yourself that it's better to ask now than to assume later. Wesker hums in reply and lets his hand slip under your pants fully so he can grab a handful of your ass without warning and squeeze softly. A soft whimper escapes your lips at his actions and he chuckles shortly, his chest vibrating from the sound beneath your cheek.
âWe could,â he says at length, rather conversationally, after his hand has migrated to your other cheek and started groping it too. âOr we could do something else instead. I know what I'm leaning towards. Do you?â His voice is like a purr in your ear before he uses his free hand to lift up your chin and make you meet his eyes in the darkness. The two cat-like pupils are like beacons in the night and you happily let yourself drown in them, get lured in and devoured whole, when Wesker grips your chin between his fingers and kisses you firmly.
You grip his shirt tightly as he kisses you with the same intensity he does everything else. Your world narrows down to this bed and Wesker under you, everything else becoming irrelevant and little more than an afterthought. His lips are soft but demanding and his tongue is determined to map out every nook and cranny of your mouth as he kisses you over and over again with barely any pause for breath. Meanwhile, his other hand slips between your asscheeks and finds your folds, prodding at your entrance and slipping even further down to flick your clit and press down on it in a sensual motion that makes you moan into his mouth.
You feel like you've come alive for the first time in your life.
âFuck, I need you so badly,â you whisper against his lips, pulling away but not going far, unable to part from him now that you finally know what he tastes like. You keep going back for more, lips capturing Wesker's in hot, desperate kisses, nipping at his bottom lip before going back to licking into his hot mouth. âBeen waiting⌠for so long.â
One of his fingers breaches your hole as you say it, testing your channel for looseness before he buries it up to the knuckle and starts slowly fucking you open.
âI was wondering how long it would take you to break,â he confesses without a trace of shame. He releases your chin then in favour of yanking your shirt upwards until it pools at your armpits and grabs one of your tits, giving it a squeeze at the same time another finger joins the first and he starts pumping them in and out of your pussy faster.
âI was⌠scared⌠of fucking it up.â Your lips trail down towards Wesker's jaw, hungry and needing more â more of him, of his skin, of his touch â as you speak between breathless, hot kisses pressed under his jaw and against his Adam's apple.
âOh, darling. As if I would let you,â he condescends. Those fingers start scissoring inside you now, making you break away from kissing him so you can pant and moan into his throat instead. âYou were mine the moment you joined me in that mansion.â
His words have you shutting your eyes tightly against the wave of burning arousal that sweeps over you and you think you might just come in a few seconds if he keeps stroking your inner walls like that, but Wesker pulls his fingers out without warning before you can, causing you to whine in protest and hump his thigh pathetically as you try to bring back the feeling.
âWesker⌠pleaseâŚâ
âI want you to come on my cock, dear. Don't pout, I wouldn't leave you hanging like this.â
He pulls his pajamas bottoms down while he speaks, letting his hard cock spring free, and your eyes, adjusted to the dark by now and aided by the faint dawn breaking outside the windows, follow the shape of it as it stands up proudly from between his legs. You lick your lips as you take it in and end up parting them completely when Wesker's thumb settles on the seam between them and presses down. You look at him with eyes clouded with lust.
âGo on, darling. It's all yours,â he encourages, eyes dark with intent as he stares you down, and you don't waste a single second more. You moan around his thick shaft as you take his cock into your mouth, delighting in the taste of clean skin and precum, and your eyes close happily in pleasure when Wesker slides his hand into your hair and guides you up and down his cock at his preferred pace.
He pulls you away from it far faster than you'd like â if it were up to you, you'd happily suck him off for hours until your throat went sore and your jaw ached. But you're not too heartbroken when he manhandles you so you're straddling him instead, thighs bracketing his hips, back arched, and guides his cock to your dripping cunt while his other hand grips your hip tightly.
âYou take me so beautifully, darling,â Wesker breathes up at you when he bottoms out, his lips nipping at your throat ardently before he starts guiding you up and down his cock in a slow, careful glide that burns you up like the sun in August. âShould have done this a long time ago.â
âAh, you feel so good,â you assent, your mouth parted open as you moan and pant over Wesker's body. You don't even have to do anything despite being on top â his hands on your hips are guiding you effortlessly, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock, while you cling to his shoulders and try to stay upright.
âThink you can take it a bit rougher?â he asks, one of his hands traveling up to your chest and pushing up your shirt again to reveal your tits. He takes one in his palm and massages it torturously before he pops the nipple in his mouth and tugs on it like he's trying to drink you up.
âYes, please. Give it to me,â you moan, begging really, and happily let your arms fall away from his chest when he releases your breast, his hand pushing at your back until your chest is flush with his. Both of his arms wrap around you, both a cradle and a restraint, then he plants his feet firmly against the mattress before he starts pounding up into you at a pace that has you feeling like you're going to be fucked out of your body.
The hotel room fills with the sounds of skin slapping harshly against skin and your combined voices, moaning and grunting in a beautiful symphony that makes your head spin. The bed creaks and thumps against the wall with every thrust of Wesker's hips into you, but you couldn't care less if anyone is currently being woken up by your and Wesker's fucking. All you care about is how good his cock feels in your pussy and how happy you are to finally be in his arms the way you've been fantasising about for months.
âTouch yourself,â he orders after a few minutes of wordless fucking, both of you lost in your own pleasure and each other's bodies. âI want you to come first.â
You don't even bother snarking him â you just obey. Your hand makes its way between your intertwined bodies and starts rubbing at your desperate clit, and it doesn't take much at all for you to come, not when Wesker keeps driving his cock in and out of you like a machine. Your voice breaks when you moan, loud and drawn out, as you cream all over Wesker's cock. Below you, he groans in response to the sensation, praising you for doing as you're told, then proceeds to reward you in full by shoving his cock as deep as it'll go and filling your poor pussy up so much that cum starts leaking out of you before he's even finished.
He keeps you in his arms for long minutes after you're done as you try to catch your breath and come to terms with the new reality you've found yourself in â one where you and Wesker have fucked and the world didn't implode from the insanity of it all. A yawn breaks past your lips while you think of something to say to break the silence, not uncomfortable, that fell over you, and it causes Wesker to laugh. The sound startles you. It's like seeing a unicorn in the middle of the highway or a dodo bird casually munching on grass in your backyard â it doesn't quite make sense and it makes you wonder if you've finally gone insane and started hallucinating things.
âGo back to sleep, dear,â he orders gently, his voice softening from that raspy growl it was while he was fucking you into something much fonder now. âWe still have a few hours until we have to wake up. Go on.â
Feeling like you might have slipped into the Twilight Zone when you weren't looking but unwilling to break the illusion, you nod wordlessly and snuggle into his chest as you close your eyes back up. Wesker tugs the blanket you discarded earlier back on top of you, covering you up where you're still naked and still joined together, then cups the back of your neck tenderly yet possessively before his breathing deliberately evens out so he can go back to sleep as well.
There's so much unsaid between you that needs to be discussed, but that can wait until the sun rises properly and you've had more than a handful of hours of sleep. In spite of all your worries for the future, your eyes get heavier and heavier as the minutes pass and you find yourself sinking back into sleep, Wesker's unnatural warmth and his grounding touch keeping you safe and lulling you gently back to dreamland.
Probably the biggest collection I made but I had fun! This contain 10 hairs inspired by the characters from the RE franchise. I hope y'all like it! I will probably be taking a break from collections for next month and focus on single releases but if I get inspired then maybe I'll release a collection next month instead ⼠I hope y'all like this!
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, public/semi-public sexual activities, dirty talk, fingering, oral sex, consensual sexual play, overstimulation, possible embarrassment, aftercare, established relationship, dom!Bang Chan, semi-public kink, humor, and fluff.
words:2k
Kinktober
Content Note: This story contains scenes of intimate touching under a blanket in a shared dorm setting and explicit sex in private, with a healthy dynamic of care and communication. Reader discretion is advised.
The dorm was louder than usual that night.
Between laughter, teasing, and way too much yelling over what movie to watch, you could barely follow who was winning the âremote control war.â Han was begging for some 90s trash horror, Seungmin threatened to fall asleep if they picked that, Felix wanted a feel-good romance, and Hyunjin⌠Hyunjin just wanted silence so he could sketch on his iPad with something playing in the background.
You chuckled, already tucked into the corner of the couch with a thick blanket wrapped around you. The boys were sprawled across pillows and beanbags on the floor, and you were sitting snuggled beside Bang Chanâyour boyfriend, and letâs be honest, the most dangerous tease on the planet.
His arm was around your waist like always, holding you close, warm and safe. But tonight... something was different. His fingers were lingering a bit too long, his eyes darker than usual even in the dim light of the TV screen. He hadnât said much since you sat down, but his presence alone was making your skin buzz.
After too many arguments, the boys finally settled on an action comedyâone of those chaotic ones that no one would really pay attention to. Perfect.
The volume lowered. The room dimmed. Everything got a little quieter.
And then his hand slid under your shirt.
Slowly.
Casually.
Like it was no big deal.
You stiffened, blinking at the screen but not seeing anything. You felt his fingertips trail softly across your stomach, tracing invisible lines as if mapping out every inch of your skin.
"Chan," you whispered, lips barely moving.
He didnât answer.
Just kept drawing little circles. Then downward strokes. Slower. Lower.
You tried to ignore it at first. Thought maybe he was just being affectionate. But then his hand slipped even further down, brushing against the waistband of your sweatpants.
You turned your face to him, eyes wide, silently pleading. But he looked straight ahead, his expression soft and completely fake innocent.
"Youâre insane," you whispered, your voice tight.
"Maybe," he murmured, still not looking at you. "But you make me that way."
That voiceâlow, raspy, calmâdid something to you.
He slipped his hand beneath your waistband.
And under your panties.
You gasped, the sound barely audible, and buried your face into his chest as your body tensed up.
âRelax, baby,â he whispered into your hair. âIâm just touching. No oneâs gonna see.â
His fingers dipped between your legs, spreading you gently, teasing, stroking.
You clenched your thighs instinctively, trying to stop him, but he was already where he wanted to be.
"Youâre already so wet," he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "You like this, huh? Being touched while the others are right here?"
You bit your lip hard, heart racing.
His fingers moved slowly at first, caressing your clit with maddening precision. You could barely focus on anything. The movie was nothing but background noise now. The warmth in your core built with every stroke.
âChan,â you whispered again, desperate.
âShhh, baby,â he cooed, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. âBe good for me. Can you do that?â
You could barely breathe. He dipped two fingers inside you, stretching you slowly, letting out a satisfied hum against your temple.
âThatâs it,â he whispered. âGood girl. So tight.â
You clung to his thigh, gripping it for dear life, your face buried in his chest, fighting every instinct to let out a moan.
And then⌠you saw him.
Hyunjin.
He was on the opposite couch, iPad in his lap, glancing toward you both.
And for a single terrifying second, your eyes met.
His gaze froze.
His expression said it all.
He knew.
Hyunjinâs cheeks turned red instantly, and he looked away like the world was ending.
You nearly died on the spot.
âHyunjin saw,â you hissed in panic.
âI know,â Chan replied casually, still moving his fingers slowly in and out of you.
âStopâ!â
âYou want me to stop?â
His tone was so smug. So fucking sure of himself.
You didnât answer.
Your body betrayed you.
âYou donât,â he whispered, curling his fingers just right. âYouâre squeezing me so good.â
He sped up just a little. Enough to make your breath stutter. Enough to make you tremble.
âYouâre gonna come on my fingers right here, arenât you?â he whispered, voice low and thick. âSo fucking naughty.â
Your eyes fluttered shut. Your mouth parted. You wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. He was relentless.
âIf you make a sound, theyâll know,â he said, kissing your ear. âSo come for me. Quiet. Like a good girl.â
And you did.
You came silently, trembling in his arms, muscles tight and thighs shaking, your breath caught in your throat as he stroked you through it.
He removed his fingers slowly, brushing your inner thigh before casually wiping his hand on his own pants like nothing happened.
âI love you,â he whispered into your hair.
You couldnât even speak. Just clung to him, flushed, dazed, and completely undone.
Hyunjin never looked over again.
But you knew.
They both knew.
---
Your legs were still trembling under the blanket.
You hadn't moved since the moment Chan made you come silently, tucked into his side like nothing had happened â like you weren't unraveling under his fingertips while the other boys watched a movie, completely unaware.
Well⌠mostly unaware.
Hyunjin still hadnât looked your way again. You didnât blame him. You wouldnât know what to say either if you caught your hyung casually fingering his girlfriend in the middle of movie night.
You were doing your best to breathe normally, keeping your head against Chanâs chest while he traced lazy circles on your arm like he was the picture of innocence.
But he wasn't.
Not even close.
He had that smug aura. His heartbeat was steady under your cheek, but his fingers were restless.
âYou okay?â he whispered, lips brushing your ear.
You nodded.
âReally?â he hummed, still drawing soft shapes into your skin. âYou were shaking, babyâŚâ
You didnât respond.
Because if you opened your mouth, you knew your voice would give away everything.
Chan gave you a minute.
Then â as if it had just occurred to him â he stretched his arms above his head dramatically and yawned.
âUgh⌠Iâm getting stiff,â he said out loud to no one in particular. âMy back is killing me.â
Lee Know looked over from the floor. âYouâre old, hyung.â
Chan gave him a sarcastic smile. âYeah, yeah.â
Then he turned to you with a fake innocent pout.
âBabe,â he said, loudly enough for the room to hear, âcan you come to the room with me? Help me stretch for a sec?â
You blinked at him.
This bastard.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
You nodded, swallowing your nervousness. âYeah, sure.â
No one questioned it.
It wasnât unusual for Chan to drag you to help him with stretches or massage something â your relationship was public within the group, and theyâd all gotten used to his touchy nature by now. Still, your heart pounded as you followed him through the hall, out of the shared living room and into the quiet of his bedroom.
As soon as the door shut behind you, the tension shifted.
No more pretending.
Chan leaned against the door, arms crossed, watching you with that expression you knew too well â a mix of desire, smugness, and affection.
âYou were so good out there,â he said quietly. âSo quiet. Iâm proud of you.â
You folded your arms. âYouâre insane.â
He smirked, pushing off the door and walking slowly toward you.
âMaybe. But I wasnât the only one who enjoyed it.â
He got close.
Close enough that you could smell the warmth of his skin. Close enough to see the sparkle in his eyes.
âDid you like coming in front of everyone, baby?â he whispered, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. âDid it turn you on, knowing they were all right there?â
You let out a shaky breath. âChanâŚâ
He leaned in, lips barely brushing yours.
âNow itâs your turn,â he murmured. âTo make all the noise you wanted to out there.â
You didnât have time to react.
He kissed you.
Hard.
Desperate.
Tongue sliding into your mouth, hands on your waist, pulling you against him. You clutched his shoulders, your knees already weak as he walked you backwards toward the bed.
You fell onto the mattress with a soft thump, and he was on top of you in seconds, straddling your hips and kissing your neck with long, open-mouthed kisses.
âI wanted to fuck you right there,â he growled softly against your skin. âSo bad.â
You whined, fingers tangling in his hair.
âBut I couldnât hear you. Couldnât see that pretty face when you fall apart.â
He kissed his way down your throat, sliding his hands under your shirt and lifting it over your head. Your bra followed, tossed to the floor.
Chan sat back on his knees, eyes dark as he looked down at you.
âSo fucking beautiful.â
He leaned down, kissed the space between your breasts, then lower. His hands pushed your sweatpants and panties down in one smooth motion, and his mouth was already on your thigh before they even hit the floor.
âI need to taste you,â he murmured.
Your breath caught.
âChanââ
He didnât give you time to think.
He lowered his mouth and licked a slow, deliberate stripe up your slit.
Your back arched, a sharp moan escaping your lips.
âYeah,â he groaned. âThatâs what I wanted to hear.â
He ate you like he was starving.
Long, slow strokes of his tongue. Tight little flicks against your clit. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you open, and every time you moaned, he hummed in satisfaction like he was feeding on your sounds.
âFuck, babyâŚâ he said between licks. âSo wet for me again already?â
You couldnât answer.
Your hands were in his hair, pulling, trembling.
He sucked on your clit just right and you cried out, hips jerking.
âThere she is,â he whispered. âMy pretty baby. Letting it all out now.â
He added two fingers, thrusting them inside while his tongue kept working you, faster now. You were a mess â already close again, too sensitive from earlier, too overwhelmed.
âChanâ I canâtââ
âYes you can,â he said, voice low and firm. âYouâre gonna come on my mouth like the good girl you are.â
And you did.
You cried out, thighs shaking, coming hard against his mouth as he held you down and kept going until you pushed his head away, sobbing from the overstimulation.
Only then did he pull back, licking his lips and smiling down at you.
âFuck,â he whispered. âYou taste so good.â
You tried to catch your breath, blinking through the haze.
He leaned over you again, brushing kisses down your jaw.
âIâm not done with you,â he said softly. âNot even close.â
He stood up briefly, pulling off his shirt, revealing that golden skin and flexing chest that always made your heart skip. Then he dropped his pants and boxers in one motion, his cock already hard, thick, flushed at the tip.
You whimpered at the sight.
Chan knelt between your legs again, rubbing the head of his cock through your slick folds, teasing your entrance.
âYouâre still shaking,â he said sweetly, bending down to kiss your lips. âWant me to slow down?â
You shook your head, eyes glazed.
âWant you inside.â
That was all it took.
He slid in slowly, inch by inch, groaning at how tight you were around him.
âFuck⌠babyâŚâ
He bottomed out and stayed there for a moment, pressing kisses to your forehead, your cheeks, your lips.
âFeel so good,â he murmured. âSo perfect.â
Then he started moving.
Slow, deep thrusts at first, holding your hips, letting you feel every inch.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, nails digging into his back as he picked up the pace, the rhythm getting rougher, more desperate.
âLet me hear you,â he panted. âLouder, baby.â
You moaned his name, over and over, louder with every thrust.
He fucked you like he missed you, like it had been days instead of hours since he last had you â and you matched every thrust, every breath, every filthy word with more of your own.
He grabbed your hand and laced your fingers together, pressing your joined hands into the mattress beside your head.
âSo pretty like this,â he whispered. âAll mine.â
âYours,â you breathed.
He smiled.
Then slammed into you harder.
You screamed.
And neither of you cared if someone heard this time.
---
You didnât know what time it was.
The room was dark, heavy with warmth and the faint scent of Chanâs cologne lingering on the sheets. His chest rose and fell under your cheek, one of his arms draped lazily over your waist like he was scared to let you go even in sleep.
And honestly⌠you didnât want him to.
ââŚYou awake?â came his sleepy whisper, voice all hoarse and soft.
âMhm,â you hummed, eyes still shut.
He kissed the top of your head. âThat was⌠fun,â he chuckled lowly.
You peeked up at him with a sleepy smile. âYouâre unbelievable.â
âI know,â he grinned, cocky. âYou couldnât stop squirming under the blanket.â
You groaned. âStop reminding me, oh my GodâŚâ
âBut you loved it,â he teased, pulling you closer. âYou were dripping for me, even before I touched you.â
You slapped his chest weakly. âYouâre so annoyingâŚâ
He just laughed, that deep, beautiful laugh that made your chest flutter every time. âYou shouldâve seen yourself, biting your lip, trying not to moan in front of everyone.â
âYou were trying to corrupt me.â
âI was succeeding.â
You snorted. âI hate how smug you are.â
âI hate how cute you are,â he countered. Then softer: âI love you, you know that?â
Your heart did a full backflip.
âI know,â you whispered. âI love you too.â
He kissed your forehead, then your nose, then your lips. âYou did so well for me, baby. So patient. So quiet. Iâm so proud of you.â
âI was literally dying the whole timeâŚâ
âAnd you still kept your legs open for me,â he grinned devilishly.
You whined and buried your face in his neck. âSTOP.â
He just laughed again and pulled the blanket tighter around you both. âWe can sleep more. Youâve earned it.â
---
A Few Hours Later
You woke up to the sun creeping through the curtains and the sound of birds chirping outside the window. Chan was still asleep, arm thrown over his face, the other hand resting on your waist.
His hair was a mess. His chest was bare. And he looked unfairly perfect.
You laid there a moment just admiring him, heart full, cheeks warm.
Last night had been⌠reckless, dirty, riskyâand yet, youâd never felt more wanted.
You carefully slid out from under the blanket, grabbed one of Chanâs hoodies from the chair nearby, and tugged it on. It hung off your frame like a dress, brushing mid-thigh. You tiptoed to the door, cracking it open quietly.
Silence.
You stepped into the hallway, determined to sneak into the kitchen for some water before anyone noticed youâd slept in Chanâs room.
But fate wasnât on your side.
You turned the corner and nearly slammed right intoâ
Hyunjin.
He was standing there in pajama pants and a fluffy hoodie, holding a glass of juice and looking extremely awkward.
You both froze.
You, in your boyfriendâs hoodie, hair a mess, legs bare.
Him, blinking like heâd just seen a crime scene.
ââŚMorning,â he said, voice cracking halfway through.
âUhâheyâŚâ you mumbled.
Silence.
You took one step back.
He took one step forward.
âListen,â he started, waving a hand. âI didnât see anything, okay?! I meanâI saw something, but likeânot details, you know?! I didnât look! I swear!â
âHyunjinâ!â
âI mean yeah okay fine I SAW his hand move under the blanket and I heard something but I thought maybe you were justâitchy?! I DUNNO! I didnât want to assumeââ
You buried your face in your hands. âOh my godâplease stop.â
âAnd then Chan left and you disappeared for like⌠two hours?? And now youâre in his hoodie looking like you got obliterated soâYEAH. I noticed. IâM NOT BLIND!â
You squeaked, backing toward the kitchen. âIâm gonna pretend this conversation never happenedââ
âPLEASE DO.â
Then, louder: âAlso Iâm never sitting on that couch again. Thanks for that, by the way.â
You whimpered and ran back toward Chanâs room.
From inside, Chan was already awake, sitting up and grinning.
âDid Hyunjin say something?â he asked, smirking knowingly.
You threw a pillow at him. âHE KNOWS.â
âI figured he did. He couldnât even look me in the eye when I walked out earlier.â
âYouâre so dead,â you groaned, crawling back into bed and hiding under the covers.
Chan just pulled you close and started peppering your face with kisses. âAt least I donât have to keep it a secret nowâŚâ
âYouâre not embarrassed?â
âOf course not. Youâre my baby. Let the whole world know.â
You peeked at him. âEven if they know I let you finger me in front of everyone?â
He smirked. âEspecially because of that.â
âCHRISTOPHER.â
He just laughed and kissed your forehead again, pulling you close like nothing else in the world mattered.
The Vetiver Collection was created with the intention of being the base of your male sim's wardrobe... it's like my Vanilla and Apple Collection had a baby boy. With eleven carefully crafted pieces, this collection will elevate every outfit of your sims â¨
More details:
Teen-Elder
Custom thumbnails
Base game compatible
If you are interested in more male items by me:
đ The OrquĂdeas Collection
đ The Canela Collection
đ The Lift Collection
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DOWNLOAD (Early access in my Patreon)
Public release: August 30th at 19h00 UTC
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â ď¸ PLEASE NOTE
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frontwards, backwards, sideways, upside down, doggystyle, 360, no condoms, raw, skin on skin, no lube, no protection, in the kitchen, in the fridge, in the bathroom, in the living-room, in the bedroom, in the closet, in the basement, in the attic, on the floor, on the ceiling, on the walls, in the street, all night, all day, until my pussy explodes, until my legs snap in half, until the hair is ripped off my scalp, until im gasping for air, god please let me have this man.
