Can i get Shu’s reaction to yui’s expression first time trying alcohol pretty please 🥺
I’m in love with your writing sooo much 😭😭💖💖
Yui giggled—actually *giggled*—and Shu's eyes snapped open from where he'd been dozing on his bed.
That wasn't a sound she made. Ever.
He sat up slowly, taking in the sight before him. Yui stood in the doorway of his room, swaying slightly, her cheeks flushed pink and her eyes glassy. In her hand was an empty wine glass, and she was smiling at him in a way that was far too carefree for the usually anxious girl.
"Shu\~" she sang out, stumbling into the room. "There you are! I've been looking *everywhere* for you."
His eyes narrowed. "Are you drunk?"
"Drunk?" She blinked at him owlishly, then dissolved into another fit of giggles. "Maybe a little? Reiji had this really pretty red wine out and it tasted like juice and I thought—" She hiccupped. "I thought just one glass wouldn't hurt but then it was so good and—"
"How many glasses?" he interrupted, already knowing this was going to be troublesome.
She held up three fingers, then frowned and added another. "This many? Or maybe..." She squinted at her hand like it held the secrets of the universe.
"Troublesome woman," he muttered, but he couldn't quite suppress the smirk tugging at his lips. Drunk Yui was... unexpected.
She stumbled forward, nearly tripping over her own feet. He caught her easily, pulling her onto the bed beside him. She immediately curled into his side like it was the most natural thing in the world, all her usual hesitation and nervousness completely gone.
"You're warm," she mumbled against his chest, her fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. "And you smell nice. Has anyone ever told you that you smell nice?"
"You're definitely drunk," he confirmed, amused despite himself.
"I'm not *that* drunk," she protested, tilting her head back to look at him. Her hair was slightly mussed, her lips parted, and there was a dreamy quality to her expression that made something tighten in his chest. "I can still think straight. See? I know you're Shu. Shu Sakamaki. Oldest son. Lazy. Handsome." She poked his chest with each descriptor. "Very, very handsome."
His eyebrow arched. "Is that so?"
"Mmhmm." She nodded seriously, then her expression turned mischievous—an expression he'd never seen on her before. "You know what else I think?"
"What?" He was genuinely curious now.
"I think..." She leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. "I think you're not nearly as indifferent as you pretend to be."
Before he could respond, she pressed a clumsy kiss to his jaw, missing his lips entirely. She pulled back with a frustrated huff.
"That wasn't where I was aiming," she complained.
Something dark and possessive stirred in Shu's chest. This uninhibited version of Yui—bold and affectionate and completely without her usual guards—was dangerously appealing. He should probably take her back to her room, make sure she drank some water, let her sleep it off.
But when she looked at him like that, with those hazy eyes full of want...
"Troublesome," he repeated, but his hand came up to cup her face, thumb brushing over her flushed cheek. "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"
"I know exactly what I'm doing," she insisted, though she immediately contradicted herself by trying to climb into his lap and nearly falling off the bed in the process.
He caught her again, this time settling her properly across his lap. She made a satisfied sound and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"Better," she declared. "This is much better. Now I can—" She leaned in again, and this time her lips found his.
The kiss was clumsy, unpracticed, tasting of wine and something uniquely Yui. She kissed him like she'd been wanting to for a long time, with an enthusiasm that made up for her lack of technique. Her fingers tangled in his hair, and she made a small, needy sound against his mouth.
Shu's control, already tenuous, snapped.
He took over the kiss, one hand fisting in her hair to angle her head properly while the other gripped her hip. He kissed her slowly, thoroughly, teaching her without words how he wanted to be kissed. She was a quick study, matching his rhythm, her tongue tentatively meeting his.
When he finally pulled back, they were both breathing hard. Yui's eyes were even more unfocused now, her lips swollen and red.
"Wow," she breathed. "We should have done that sooner."
Despite himself, he laughed—actually laughed. "You won't remember this tomorrow."
"Yes I will," she insisted stubbornly. "I'll remember everything. Like how you're looking at me right now." Her fingers traced his jaw. "Like you want to eat me up."
"Maybe I do," he murmured, and was rewarded with a full-body shiver from her.
"Then do it," she challenged, emboldened by alcohol. "I'm right here."
"You're drunk," he reminded her, even as his hand slid under her shirt to rest against the warm skin of her lower back.
"So?" She rolled her hips experimentally against him, and he hissed at the friction. "I still want you. I've wanted you for a long time, Shu. I just never had the courage to—" She made a frustrated gesture. "To do anything about it."
"And liquid courage is better?" His tone was dry, but his hands were already exploring, mapping the curve of her waist, the dip of her spine.
"It got me here, didn't it?" She kissed him again, more confidently this time. "In your lap. Kissing you. Finally."
He groaned against her mouth. She was going to be the death of him. "You're going to regret this tomorrow."
"The only thing I'll regret," she said, pulling back to look at him seriously—or as seriously as she could while drunk and disheveled, "is if we stop now."
"Troublesome woman," he said again, but there was affection in it now. He flipped them over smoothly, pinning her beneath him on the bed. "Fine. But we're doing this my way."
Her eyes widened, excitement and nervousness mixing in her expression. "Your way?"
"My way," he confirmed, settling his weight over her. "Which means slowly. No matter how much you beg."
"I won't beg," she said, but it came out breathless and unconvincing.
He kissed her again, taking his time now, exploring her mouth thoroughly while his hands roamed her body over her clothes. Every touch was deliberate, designed to make her squirm. When he finally slid his hand under her shirt properly, palming her breast through her bra, she arched into him with a moan.
"See?" he murmured against her lips. "Already begging."
"That wasn't—I wasn't—" But her protest died when he rolled her nipple between his fingers.
He kissed down her jaw to her neck, finding her pulse point and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. The possessive part of him—the part that was usually too lazy to assert itself—roared to life. She was his. Had been his from the moment she'd walked into this mansion. And now, uninhibited and wanting, she was finally admitting it.
"Mine," he growled against her throat.
"Yes," she agreed immediately, her hands clutching at his shoulders. "Yours. Always yours."
The easy agreement, the complete surrender in her voice, made something primal surge through him. He marked her neck thoroughly, leaving a trail of bruises that would be visible tomorrow. Let his brothers see. Let them know she was claimed.
His hand slid lower, over her stomach, toying with the waistband of her skirt. She lifted her hips encouragingly, but he just traced patterns on her hip bone, making her whimper with frustration.
"Shu, please," she breathed.
"Please what?" He was enjoying this far too much—the way she trembled under his touch, the little sounds she made, the complete abandon in her responses.
"Touch me," she begged. "Please touch me."
"I am touching you," he pointed out, deliberately obtuse.
She made a frustrated sound. "You know what I mean."
"Do I?" He nipped at her collarbone. "You'll have to be more specific."
"I—" She flushed even deeper, embarrassment cutting through the alcohol haze. "I can't just say it."
"Then I guess I'll just keep doing this," he said, continuing his teasing touches that went everywhere except where she wanted.
"You're mean," she accused.
"You have no idea," he agreed, but there was dark promise in his voice.
He kissed her again, swallowing her protests, while his hand finally—*finally*—slid higher up her thigh. She gasped into his mouth, her legs falling open in invitation. But he just traced the edge of her panties, feeling the heat of her through the fabric.
"Shu!" Her voice was high and desperate now.
"Say it," he commanded. "Tell me what you want."
"I want—" She bit her lip, struggling with her inhibitions even drunk. "I want you to touch me. There. Please."
"Good girl," he praised, and finally gave her what she wanted.
The moment his fingers slipped beneath her panties and found her wet and ready, they both groaned. He stroked her slowly, learning what made her gasp, what made her hips buck, what made her moan his name.
"So wet," he murmured appreciatively. "All for me?"
"All for you," she confirmed breathlessly. "Only you mmmph fuck more please shu-san."
He worked her expertly, building her pleasure slowly, steadily. She writhed beneath him, her hands fisting in his shirt, his hair, the sheets—anything she could grab. The sounds she made were intoxicating, little gasps and moans that went straight to his groin.
"That's it," he encouraged when her movements became more frantic. "Let go. Come for me."
"I—I can't—it's too much—ahhhh fuck" But even as she protested, her body was tightening, climbing toward release.
"Yes, you can," he insisted, increasing the pressure. "Come for me, Yui."
She shattered with a cry of his name, her body arching off the bed as pleasure crashed through her. He worked her through it, drawing out her orgasm until she was trembling and oversensitive.
"AHHHHHHH SHU-SAN I'M CU-CUMMING!!" yui screamed
When she finally collapsed back against the bed, boneless and satisfied, he withdrew his hand and brought his fingers to his mouth, tasting her. Her eyes widened at the gesture.
"Delicious," he pronounced, and she flushed all over again.
"That was..." She struggled for words. "I've never..."
"I know," he said with satisfaction. He could tell from her reactions that she'd been untouched. The possessive part of him preened at being her first.
She reached for him, her hand sliding down his chest toward his belt. "What about you?"
He caught her wrist, bringing it to his lips instead. "Not tonight."
"You're drunk," he reminded her gently. "And while I'm not above taking advantage of that for my own entertainment, I draw the line somewhere."
"That's surprisingly noble of you," she said, then yawned hugely.
"Don't get used to it." He shifted them so she was tucked against his side, her head on his chest. "Sleep it off. We'll continue this conversation when you're sober."
"Promise?" she mumbled, already half-asleep.
"Promise," he confirmed, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
Within minutes, she was out completely, her breathing evening out into sleep. Shu lay there, one arm around her, staring at the ceiling.
Troublesome woman indeed.
But as he felt her warm and pliant against him, smelling of wine and sex and something uniquely her, he couldn't bring himself to regret any of it. Tomorrow would be interesting—she'd wake up hungover and mortified, probably try to pretend nothing happened. But he had no intention of letting her forget.
She was his now. She'd admitted it, begged for him, came apart in his arms.
And Shu Sakamaki didn't give up what was his.
He closed his eyes, a rare smile playing at his lips, and let himself drift off with her in his arms.
Tomorrow's problems could wait until tomorrow.