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jellijellybean · 29 days ago

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hm. currently thinking about genichiro on your wedding night. doesn't matter if you're even getting married to him in the first place. [mdni]

can't believe i'm writing even more for this guy. but to be honest i do replay his memory just to bully him into a corner and stab him with my sword over and over again when i'm frustrated. (there's a joke in there i'm not willing to make.) anyway [word count is: 1.9k] of me just being a degenerate.

warning: nsfw. noncon, sorry gang. body worship, genichiro being completely delusional. apologies if he's ooc, i like the image of him being down bad.

a/n: written without any gendered preference in mind and no pronouns are explicitly stated.

Let's say this, you're the true grandchild of Isshin, kept hidden away inside the castle for as long as you've been alive. Genichiro is at the most, a well known acquaintance or an estranged sibling at the very least. You don't really talk to each other, let alone spend time around the other without your beloved grandfather present.

The life you lived has been one filled with lavish gifts and presents from many people alike, suitors or those who simply believe you deserve it. Never have you had to lift a finger, not once have you ever thought of doing anything that could cause you harm. Your grandfather had taught you the basics of wielding a katana, yes, but it’s not something you find yourself using often — at best, it’s a party trick you get to show off — at worst, it’s the bare minimum to defend yourself. It’s one of the reasons why Genichiro would constantly find himself hovering a few steps behind you.

You didn’t deserve to learn something that might taint your skin — something that might leave your skin bruised, cuts that turn into scars, or worse, turn you into someone like him. You’ve seen him train, watched him as he pushed himself to his limits, but you never spared him another glance. Content with just watching him from afar like you normally do.

It’s upsetting — truly, you never noticed that those moments he would catch you staring, Genichiro would be pushing himself even more. Always showing off his best moves when he knew you were watching, always wanting to prove that he was the only one worthy of your attention.

Then why did you agree to marry this worthless.. Genichiro doesn’t even consider them a person — doesn’t even believe they should be in your presence without a proper reason to be there beside you. It has him seething silently, watching as you gush to the small group of servants or even your grandfather as he stands there.. watching. Like he always is as you continue to parade around the ring and gifts that leech gave you.

He could give you so much more. He would give you everything if you so much as asked. If you wanted him to carve out his heart just for it to be in your waiting palms — he’d do it, yet find a way to believe that it wouldn’t be enough.

The night before your wedding is when he deems the act long enough. Genichiro waits, patiently, for the right moment to set things in motion. He’ll play the savior, swoop in and rescue you like he’s always done — and finally make things right. He should have done this long ago, when you two were still trying to navigate through this world together, no matter how brief those moments were. He should have been the one to ask your grandfather for permission first, but it’s okay.

Genichiro will take care of everything, just to ensure you won’t have to lift a finger or worry about any of the preparations needed. Isshin might disagree, might even refuse, but how could he? When Genichiro has only done what is right for the future of Ashina? He is the reason why the clan remains at the top despite the years whittling away at the power and influence that slowly begun to wane.

“..what the hell did you do?!” You shout at him, your eyes catching the faint red on his clothing. You feel trapped, your one chance at escaping from the walls of this place, your only chance of reprieve, gone without giving you a say in the matter.

“Only what was necessary.” Genichiro states it so bluntly, like it's something as mundane as the weather. He's not giving an explanation. Only staring at you like you're the crazy one and he's somehow sane, it's a shock that makes your blood run cold once the pieces fall into place in your mind. You don’t even realize that you’re taking a step back until he’s taking one larger step forward to shove you against the futon in your bedroom.

There's a kick against his stomach, but Genichiro doesn't seem phased in the slightest, instead choosing to grasp your wrists in his hands, pinning them to the sides of your head. Red eyes are all you can see behind the curtains of his black hair. His chest heaves as he stares down at you.

You, in your kimono, the colors perfectly contrasting against your skin and the moonlight. Its fabric so soft and delicate, cold against his and your body. He's waited long enough for this, waited years for you to finally look at him — acknowledge him like you do to others. It's only fair, he thinks, that this is something he's entitled to.

“..please.” It's a whisper that leaves your lips and into the air. It's a plea that doesn't reach Genichiro's already set mind. Choosing to brush his lips over yours in such a delicate manner, it's as if you two were indeed lovers. He shifts a bit until he's able to hold both of your wrists in one of his own hands. His fingernails dig into your skin, an unsaid threat, leaving red marks that would surely be a reminder in the morning.

You can feel his other hand ghosting over your sides, pulling the fabric covering you away from your body. When the chill from the night truly hits your skin you struggle, violently. Twisting and turning, mumbling curses and pleas for him to stop and leave you alone. For him to bring back your fiance. For him to burn and never come back. It breaks his heart to see you so unhappy, but he hates to admit it — your eyes look absolutely beautiful filled with tears.

The glossy shine practically holds all of the stars in the night sky. Genichiro can't stop himself from thinking you're something he's unable to reach, a god from the stories your grandfather would tell him, a being that would never be his. But here you are.

Dressed in a beautiful kimono with him. He kisses you, completely engulfing your lips in his own as he forces his tongue down your throat. You can tell he's never done this before with how often his teeth clack against yours and how he has no sense of rhythm nor tact. He won't pull away, not until he's reminded that he needs to breathe.

You want to scream at him until your throat bleeds, yell until his ears do the same. When you try and thrash, try and fight against him, Genichiro remains unphased and almost insulted. He's so much bigger than you, so much stronger than you — it's downright unfair. He's a trained soldier, all muscle and hardened exterior while you.. you're soft, delicate, like a flower. Unlike him who knows how truly dangerous this world is. You're what this world calls weak, but Genichiro doesn't seem to mind being that protector. His hand ghosts over your chest, your hips, your thighs like a man afraid you'd break if he placed the slightest bit of pressure.

You can feel him breathing slowly, taking in every detail before he's using both of his hands to spread your thighs apart. You didn't think he'd take his time right? Genichiro is a man of precision and caution, but he is not patient. Not when he was you right where he’s been wanting you for the longest time.

He’ll spend a few moments pressing kisses against your skin, trace the contours of your body with his hands in such a reverent way, that you forget for just a second who he is — what he is capable of. Despite his desperation, Genichiro wishes for you to enjoy yourself, for you to let him take the reins and show you how good he can make you feel, how much he is willing to spend worshiping your body like it’s meant to be.

For a few blissful moments you might be able to forget everything that’s happened when his hair is brushing against the inside of your thighs with his big hands holding your legs apart. You might be able to actually ignore the building dread in your stomach as he licks, bites, and sucks on whatever he can get his mouth on. It’s apparent once again how inexperienced he is. There’s barely any skill, barely any finesse, but if there’s anything Genichiro is — he’s determined.

You’ve seen how quickly he learns too, how fast he’s able to adapt to different strategies and it leaks into his performance even now. Every gasp, every shiver, every time your legs threaten to snap shut — Genichiro notes it in his mind as he tries to find the correct way to blend his touch together, to bring you to that high faster. He’s treating you like a puzzle, a game even, as he finds that right combination that leaves you clinging onto his hair and tugging as you tip your head back just from him moving his tongue the right way.

He loves it. The way you feel, the way you taste on his lips when he’s certain he’s cleaned you up properly with his mouth. When he pulls away, it’s to show how excited he is. You can feel him grinding against your thigh, can feel the way his hands shake and even hear the way his breathing grows ragged and desperate.

It’s unceremonious — the way he intertwines your fingers together in mock intimacy as he finally nestles his way in between your legs to take his rightful place. Don’t worry, he’ll be gentle — he’ll take things slow because Genichiro only wants to savor this moment. He wants to remember all the details of him finally pressing into you — wants to engrave the expression you wear when he starts to move.

And he shamelessly drowns in you completely. It’s something he’s never felt before, something he never thought he’d actually be able to do because in his world all that mattered was ensuring his — no, your clan stays on top. He needs to show you how thankful he is for all the moments you two shared, even if you can’t recall them as clearly as he can. Genichiro barely makes any sound, content to listen to yours as he gasps or takes sharp inhales of breath each time he feels the way your warmth envelops him completely.

His body shakes and trembles, but he knows he won’t leave you unsatisfied. Not with the training he’s done to ensure he has the energy, the stamina to keep up with a multitude of opponents. Just promise him, whisper his name like it’s all you know and he’ll vow in his own way to keep you happy, to make sure that you never will have to worry about anything as long as he’s the one by your side.

When all is said and done and you're both left basking in each other’s, albeit reluctant embrace, do you finally have the energy to speak your feelings into the night air.

“I hate you.” It’s a truth you don’t even realize has left your lips.

“I’m aware.” Genichiro answers back, “Your.. discomfort is a mere sacrifice I'm willing to make.” He's tracing his hand over your side, caressing the skin — trying to commit every detail into his mind. “You do not have to love me.” The tone he uses is cold, distant, and it only makes the despair in your heart grow. “..but you will learn to.” A warm hand slides up to cup your face, gently brushing away the tears that began to fall from those eyes he never wants to see look away from him, “And when you do — you will question how you ever lived without me.”