#this is prob the most indulgent jjk fic i made cuz no one's gonna request shoko even if i begged ;-;

[penrose-quinn]

Sobriety | Shoko Ieiri/F!Reader

@evrxx​:

Hello pen, the sylvia plath prompt list is cute 🤕 What about ”I may never be happy - but tonight I am content”? Can be anyone. Hope you are well and that motivation finds you 💞

a/n: hello, ev!! thank you so much for requesting and for giving me freedom with this piece! i hope you don’t mind i chose jjk! anyway, i hope you’re doing well too 😘💞

posted: 05.03.21 | prompt: i may never be happy - but tonight i am content.

prompt ficlets: [Invisible Man] [Masterlist] word count: 997 content tags: prompt ficlet. enemies with benefits. non-explicit sexual content. spicy angst. mutual pining.  tw: slightly nsfw. smoking. references to alcoholism.

pov: you’re a curse user and she’s a sorcerer. there’s little room for things to be better.

"I'm not a good woman, Shoko."

Shoko only gives you that wisp of a smile.

There's no tepid neutrality in this one. Its meaning is simple and sincere that it riles you how much you want to kiss it away.

You sigh. You hate it, sometimes. The way she makes you feel like this.

"I know," Shoko dares to take a step forward, and from the closeness, she smells like cherry smoke, bourbon, and that sharp note of antiseptic. It's dizzying and sensual, like the manner she looks up at you beneath her lashes. "I don't really care."

"But I do. Quite a lot, actually."

You often catch yourself mulling over how things have escalated between you two. Quick, sultry, blurred to the point of intoxication, and you have to wonder when has this begun to turn sober.

Perhaps, waking up to her bedside does that for a time. It wasn’t always like that.

Money is your motivation, though there’s the alcohol, the distraction, and those bedroom eyes. Somewhere along the way you’ll dream about them, about her, want her all for yourself, until it finds its place on the sheets. 

Even so, the sentiment always rises up in the morning; slow, groggy, and then staggering all at once. Of how Shoko Ieiri is a sorcerer that’s worth millions for her Reversed Cursed Technique.

Best there is, you’ve heard. She’s a one of a kind, just for the rarity and high demand of her abilities in the black market. The bounty speaks for itself after all.

Still, it isn’t like you to glance over chances and shrug them off as if they’re empty promises.

But for all what it’s worth, her kisses aren’t as empty as you think they are. Somehow, the greed wins over you in another way. The meetings frequent, the conversations longer, the excuses not quite sounding like they are anymore. Until—

"I like you," you muse aloud, reaching out to idly pull a lock of her hair to you. "That's a problem."

"Catching feelings?" Shoko tilts her head at you, and her hair follows in a careless sway that drapes around her shoulders. They’re a little slack today, mellowed down. You’ll like to believe she’s just tipsy, despite her strong tolerance. “That’s not such a bad thing, you know.”

Her hand holds yours, sliding between the crooks of your fingers as if they belong there.

Shoko offers a good bargain, but with feelings involved, it’s too costly. You find yourself a beggar every time.

"You deserve a little better, don't you think?"

"Then be better," says Shoko.        

"Curse users aren't."

"Sorcerers aren't either."

A thin, condescending smile settles on your lips. "You saying we're not so different?"

"I'm saying I don't give a damn about that." It’s Shoko’s turn to sigh, reaching out to you in what makes you feel saved. “What you did, what you are,” she goes on, making your chest clench.

You feel out of place because of her, though you can’t help but forgive her so easily for it. Something about it makes you delusional but grateful, bemoaning why you remain entrenched in her debt, but fondly returning back to this investment all the same.  

(Because you’re always bleeding, fighting for the wrong reasons. Branded for the scoundrel that you are, making a quick buck out of it. This is the world you’ve only known, and here you’re a thief of the most despicable kind, stealing lives, cursing them.

Lines are drawn hostile and jagged, like the old scars untouched by her healing hands, yet aloof and withdrawn as Shoko is, she’ll still cross yours. Though for mending more than mutilating the injury. Either way, both come with pain, but the former endures with its sutures from your shoulder to your sternum. A consequence from a bad hit.

Sometimes, you forget Shoko is a doctor first and then a sorcerer for you. She works hard, drenched in blood. More determined than she’s willing to admit, sagging from the shadows under her eyes from sleepless hours.

Two coffee mugs on the table lie cold, bruised with red fingerprints.

“Going to tell me what happened?” Shoko asks.  

You’re smoking more than usual, is what you want to tell her, as her bad habit puckers on her fourth cigarette; numbing and melancholic that you can almost taste it, an addiction so intimate to you. You stare at her, scoffing. “So you care for me now?”)

"But I do for you."

A light squeeze, and then a thumb running over your taut knuckles, like a balm to soothe the ache.

"That'll change," you don’t mean to say this with more tenderness than bite in your words.

It leaves the both of you wounded, regardless.

“Find someone better.”

Because this is all what it’ll be.

Shoko drowns with you from a glass and another, thick with the emotion she hardly ever shows, and from the open rawness of it, you almost can’t bring yourself to swallow everything down. Can’t make it worse by denying the hand that falls on your lap. Can’t let go of her.

The both of you hopelessly clutch, claw, and curl within the curvature of each other.

Clothes are shed. Lips smudge on the supple edges, yours and hers. They scatter entrails of affection, streaked with something so close to apology and heady desperation, wine-colored, on the throat, the navel, and then the sensitive skin of the thigh. Through her fingers, your hair comes undone like ribbons; strewn against sweat and the urgency of her hips.

I may never be happy, so you dream and dream some more, where the two of you can only seem to intermingle in the shaky, drunken throes of it; all soft whimpers and tangled limbs and listless lovers too lazy to ever part, just before the dawn splits and separates your worlds again. But tonight I am content.

a/n: the fact that there’s little to no reader-insert fics written for shoko depresses me. let's change that. *proceeds to plot out a future series, alongside geto's*

#shoko ieiri x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk scenarios #shoko ieiri #jjk #writing prompt #pen writes #i love her so much #this is prob the most indulgent jjk fic i made cuz no one's gonna request shoko even if i begged ;-; #this is me acting out and craving for more sapphic content #pen requests