summary: the princess sneaks out from the palace to watch her favorite samurai training
Author's note: guess who's back, back again *eminem continues playing* lol hi hello our beloved samurai is back 🥹 I hope you enjoy this little angsty piece. It takes place way before the events from The Unmaking of a Warrior. For all of you that love samurai!noah and haven't stopped thinking about him since I finished the main fic, there's a little surprise at the end ☺️ 💖
Trigger warnings: none, just samurai training and angst
Sneaking out had never been easy.
Within the inner quarters of the castle, every corridor and every floorboard seemed to remember the weight of passing feet. Servants moved about constantly, and guards stood posted beyond the sliding doors.
Sneaking out during training hours was worse.
The samurai drilled at dusk, when the sky dimmed to indigo and the air cooled enough for steel to move without slipping in the hand. At that same hour, I was expected in the west wing, beneath the stern gaze of my instructors.
Because a daughter of the Shogun was not raised in idleness.
I was taught calligraphy until I could no longer feel my fingers. Poetry followed, then court etiquette, the art of stillness, the discipline of silence. Then came training with the naginata. There were lessons with the kaiken dagger too, meant for a final defense should all else fail. And then archery.
My father had not neglected strength, but the time spent on those disciplines could not compare to the endless hours devoted to shaping me, forcefully, into the perfect lady.
The worst of all was composure.
It was during that absurd lesson, on that very day, that I decided to disappear.
The lady assigned to train me, along with the other girls, believed stillness was obedience. She would set me to kneel in seiza for long stretches, correcting the angle of my back, the placement of my hands, and the rhythm of my breath.
“A lady must be as unmoving as a painted screen,” she would say, pacing behind me.
She never imagined I would use her lessons to my advantage.
I spent half the day in my room, pretending to be ill, stricken by some vague sickness that left me too weak to move or speak.
My mother came to see me, the instructor trailing behind her. It was clear they wanted to know whether I could attend training, but I shook my head weakly, gave them my most sorrowful expression, and asked to be left alone. I said I wished to sleep.
Reluctantly, they left.
I waited, unmoving, for their footsteps to fade. Then I waited a little longer, my gaze fixed on the window that opened onto my balcony.
After a few more minutes, I slipped out of bed, put on my sandals, and quietly slid the balcony doors open. I stepped out of the bed, put on my sandals, and quietly slid the balcony doors open. I stepped into the evening and followed the same route I had carved out over the previous months; an escape from the main palace, beginning in my very own room.
I moved quickly, slipping into hiding at familiar points, glancing over my shoulder every few seconds, until I finally heard distant voices and the subtle shift of armor.
The training grounds.
The sounds reached me before the sight did: the clash of bokken, the low calls of instruction, the rhythmic thud of footwork against packed earth.
One of my greatest indulgences had become watching him train, sword in hand, hakama swaying with each movement.
I pressed myself into the shadow where a wall met a line of support pillars. From there, I remained half-hidden, just beyond the reach of the lantern light, where the darkness softened the edges of my form. Anyone glancing this way would see nothing at all.
I had learned where to stand.
The training yard stretched wide beneath the open sky, lanterns casting golden pools across the ground. Sand shifted under precise footwork, bokken cracked against one another, and voices rose in commands. The scent of dust and oiled wood was heavy.
Figures moved. Young and older men sparring in pairs, other practicing their forms. But my gaze zeroed in one specific samurai.
Noah stood at the center of the yard, facing three opponents at once. Not novices, because my father did not waste his finest swordsman on easy drills.
He moved like water and steel combined. A strike deflected. A pivot. Another opponent disarmed with almost no effort. Even the senior retainers watched him with something close to approval… or perhaps it was caution.
I should not have been there. Every lesson drilled into me since childhood warned against it. A princess did not hide in shadows to watch warriors. A daughter of the shogun did not risk scandal for a man who served her father.
But I could not look away, because beneath the lantern lights, he was not just a samurai; he was the only thing I had ever truly chosen for myself.
The combat was over in moments.
A murmur passed through the crowd. Even at a distance, I could feel the quiet acknowledgment of skill that bordered on reverence.
But Noah was not the kind to bask in it. He reset his stance and prepared for the next exchange. Another round began. The strikes became sharper, less forgiving, drawing every eye in the ward.
I leaned forward ever so slightly, just enough to catch the turn of his wrist, the narrowing of his eyes as he anticipated the next attack.
And that was when it happened.
Mid-motion, mid-strike. His bokken caught another’s and held, wood grinding against wood. His dark eyes shifted.
The distance between us should have hidden me. The shadows should have concealed me. Every careful step I had taken, every measured breath, had been meant to ensure I remained unseen, even from him.
But he saw me.
There was no surprise in his gaze, no confusion or uncertainty. His eyes landed exactly where I stood, as though he had known all along.
He broke the lock of the weapons in the same instant, turning the motion into a clean counter that forced his opponent back. The fight continued, uninterrupted.
An in that moment, while the yard rang with the sound of clashing weapons, I understood that there was no place I could stand where he would not find me.
I should have left the moment his eyes found me. That would have been the sensible thing to do.
But I stayed, because even as the training resumed and the clashing continued, I knew that somewhere beneath that discipline and unwavering control, he was aware of me.
Mi fingers tightened in the silk of my sleeves.
I should have turned away, but once again, I did not.
The training began to wind down as the night deepened.
The strikes turned into final exchanges, then into nothing at all. One by one, the samurai stepped back, bowing to one another before retrieving their belongings. Voices replaced the rigid cadence of drills, and the lanterns dimmed. The yard slowly emptied, and with it, the fragile space I had stolen for myself began to close.
With a sigh, I stepped back from the wall, letting the darkness release me as I turned away.
The path along the garden was hushed, removed from the echoes of training. Here, the night was gentler; it wrapped around the stones and low branches in a stillness I rarely found within the palace walls.
Pale blossoms had opened in the dark, their petals catching what little moonlight slipped through the trees. I reached out, brushing one with my fingertips.
The scent was sweet. The air soft. The world was quiet for a while.
Until a hand closed around my wrist.
I barely had time to draw a breath before I was pulled back, my shoulders meeting the wooden wall behind me. The impact was not harsh, but sudden enough to steal the air from my lungs.
And then he was kissing me, and for a single suspended heartbeat, everything else ceased to exist: the palace, the rules, the countless reasons this should not be happening. There was only warmth, the strength of his body pressing me against the wall.
My hand found his sleeve, gripping the fabric as though to steady myself against the suddenness of it. He drew me closer, until I could feel the heat of him through layers of silk and cotton, the steady rise and fall of his breath no longer measured as it had been in the training yard.
He smelled of sweat and earth, of effort and steel.
It was intoxication.
For a moment, he forgot himself. And I let him.
But just as suddenly, he pulled back.
His forehead came to rest against mine, his breath still uneven, as though he were forcing himself to remember something he had abandoned entirely.
Control.
I felt it return to him in pieces. In the stilling of his hands. In the tightening of his jaw. In the quiet restraint that settled between us.
When he finally stepped away, the distance felt colder than the night air.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, his voice low and roughened with the strain of holding too much inside it.
I let out a soft breath, though it did not steady me.
I was tired of that word: should.
Tired of the careful lessons, the endless expectations, the invisible boundaries drawn around my life as though I had no will within it. Tired of being told what I must be, what I must not want, what I must never reach for.
“I know,” I said.
But he understood. He knew why I was breaking the rules.
It was because of him.
That was the most dangerous part of all.
He stood there, caught between duty and his heart, the conflict written plainly in the tension of his shoulders, in the way his hands had curled at his sides as though resisting the urge to reach for me again.
The weight of what we were did not fall equally between us. If we were discovered, it would not be me who bore the consequences. It would be him; my father’s finest swordsman.
“We both know that won’t stop me,” I continued, not defying him, just stating what was true.
He did not answer.
For a man so precise in movement, so decisive in combat, Noah stood utterly still. His eyes remained on mine, but it was no longer the sharp awareness of the training yard. It was something quieter and far more dangerous.
He was considering my defiance, my longing, the exhaustion of a life lived within walls that had never once asked what I wanted.
I saw it in him: the fracture he was living with. Duty pulling him one way, and his heart pulling him toward me.
Slowly, as though testing the limits of his own restrain, he lifted his hand. For a moment, I thought he might stop himself, but he didn’t. His fingers brushed my cheek, calloused form years of training yet impossibly gentle. He traced the line of my face as though committing it to memory, his thumb lingering beneath my eye.
This man, who moments ago had disarmed three opponents without hesitation, touched me as though I were something fragile.
As though I mattered.
“You make this… difficult,” he murmured at last.
I could say I was sorry, but if I were, I would not have lied to my mother and fled my room that evening. I learned into the warmth of his large hand before I could stop myself and said, “I miss you.”
Noah’s jaw tightened.
“We see each other every day,” he said.
“At a distance,” I replied. “Surrounded by others. I have to pretend you don’t exist, and you have to treat me as the Shogun’s daughter.”
His shoulders sagged. He could not deny my words. There was a wall between us, even as he held me, touched me, kissed me. A sea between us that would require sacrifice to cross.
At some point, his attention shifted, and he reached toward the low branches beside us.
He plucked two flowers without seeming to think, turning them between his fingers. I followed his every movement, afraid that this stolen moment would be the last, that Noah would put an end to it before anyone else could.
“There are servants’ corridors they don’t watch closely,” I began, sound almost desperate. “And the sound garden is rarely—”
He lifted the flowers, his eyes flickering to my hair, and tucked them just above my left ear. His fingers stayed there a moment longer than necessary.
“You think too far ahead,” he said, almost under his breath.
“And you don’t think far enough,” I replied before I could stop myself.
“Because if I did,” he said, his voice tightening, “I wouldn’t have followed you to this secluded spot. I wouldn’t have spared a glance at you tonight. I wouldn’t have—”
The muscles in his jaw clenched as he stepped back and ran a hand through his hair.
Because there was no future for us.
I drew a slow breath, steadying myself. I refused to acknowledge that. Maybe I should stop thinking about where this would end, just as he was doing.
“There is a pond,” I insisted. “Beyond the south garden. I am permitted to walk in the gardens. No one knows about the pond. It’s beyond the grounds. You have to cross an abandoned cottage and…”
His gaze sharpened, understanding what I was asking before I had even finished.
“I could go tomorrow,” I continued, searching his face. “At this same hour. No one will notice I’m gone.”
Noah exhaled slowly, the weight of it settling visibly over him.
He said nothing. The lines of duty were carved into him; the discipline that had shaped ever part of his life was now turning against him.
His eyes dropped, as though measuring something within himself, something that had already begun to slip beyond his control.
“I will try,” he said. “But I cannot promise you anything.”
“You don’t have to,” I replied.
Him trying, for us, was enough.
He stepped closer again. His hand lifted once more and brushed against the flowers he had placed in my hair, adjusting them without thought, his touch lingering, grounding him in something real, in me, before it slipped away again.
His brown eyes returned to mine, and when he kissed me again, it was certain and soft. My hand rose to his sleeve again, holding on, anchoring myself to something that could so easily be taken from me.
His forehead rested against mine again, his breath steady, his head tilting as if he did not want to part.
“I will come,” he said, low and certain. “If there is any way at all.” A pause. Then, softer, “I will find it. I will find you. And if I do not…” he added quietly, his eyes holding mine, “it will not be because I chose otherwise.”
THE BLADE BETWEEN US → COMING SOON 🗡️
I’m going to be writing another short story featuring Samurai!Noah, set before the events of The Unmaking of a Warrior. It will have around five chapters and will focus on Samurai!Noah and the princess as they meet and fall in love, only to be forced apart when conflict breaks out in the region and Noah, being the Shogun’s most skilled swordsman, is called away to war.
I will also make a poll to know if you're more interested in reading about their future, after they settle at the Sanctuary and become parents (because I would love to write about that, too!) or the past ☺️
Fates Edged On A Blade (Noah Sebastian AU) - Masterlist
Pairing: Samurai!Noah Sebastian x Princess!Reader
Rating: 18+, NSFW, MDNI
Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, angst, fluff, blood, gore, violence, sexual themes, more as it continues (individual warnings for each chapter)
This story contains mature content! Please be aware that this work is entirely fictional and doesn't reflect real people's thoughts, behaviors or personalities! Also it will not be accurate to reality as it contains some fantasy elements and is kind of a lovers to enemies & enemies to lovers story.
Summary:
5 Friends. 5 Fates.
For Noah myths and legends didn't exist, they were just made-up stories, nothing more than lies to justify people's actions - that's the way he grew up.
But one day his entire world gets shattered by something taking place at Y/N's birthday which doesn't only change her life but everyone else's too and he has to realize that the world he had known wasn't as he had been made to believe.
He gets confronted with the decision if he remains loyal to the throne like he was raised to as a samurai and hold onto his beliefs or if he accepts that there is more than he had thought and breaks with everything he had known for the person he harbored such deep feelings for.
Will what has been developing between Y/N and Noah get to blossom or will it all crumble down and fall away underneath their feet in the face of death?
Dual timeline. Each chapter is divided into two parts: the first follows Noah and the Princess from their initial meeting within the palace grounds when they're just children, to the development of their relationship over the years. The second shifts to Noah’s departure for war, focusing on the weight of his duty and the struggle of being bound to it, along with the uncertainty of his return.
The events take place before The Unmaking of a Warrior.
CHAPTERS:
🌸 Chapter one: the princess & the samurai
🌸 Chapter two: divided honor / time of war
🌸 Chapter three: the line crossed / forbidden
🌸 Chapter four: still waters / rising currents
🌸 Chapter five: distance is protection / war reports
🌸 Chapter six: the path that leads to her / the cost of war
Pairing: samurai!noah x his princess | Words: 6.2k | Reading time: 20mins aprox. | Series masterpost 🤍
Summary: noah and princess' first intimate night.
Can be read as a one shot ✨ but it’s part of the samurai!noah fic (this takes place before the main storyline and before "let me worship you").
Tags & trigger warnings: forbidden love, clandestine rendezvous, fluff, loss of virginity (both f. and m.), reader is 18 and noah is a few years older, sexual content including fingering and f/m intercourse (p in v, unprotected) NEVER DO IT UNPROTECTED ON YOUR FIRST TIME!!! Condoms did exist in feudal Japan and they were called kawagata/kabutogata, but considering they were made of leather, animal intestines, or tortoise shells, I preferred to go for unprotected sex in this one 😶🌫️. There are also allusions to Noah and her having had sexual encounters before, meaning that she was a minor when they happened, but it was always consensual.
Author's note: This is based on an idea (aka brainrot 🤭) from @somebodyels3, so say thank you to her and send some flowers because she deserves to be showered in them. (I love you, Kells 🌸 all the flowers and hugs and smooches in the world for you 🌺🌹🌼🌷💐 thank you for always keeping me motivated and loving my stories sm 🥹).
I've also shared the first few paragraphs from the epilogue (part one) at the end, where Noah and his princess are about ten years older than in this one shot :)
THE FIRST TIME 🤍
I was less than five minutes into my eighteenth birthday when a sharp knock on the balcony doors of my room startled me, prompting me to turn my head quickly toward the sound.
My heart skipped a beat, but I instinctively turned my gaze toward the doors leading to the hallway, half-expecting my father’s soldiers, who often patrolled outside, to come and investigate the noise. If they had heard it, they might barge in any second.
Two minutes passed, and when no one appeared, I threw back the sheets, slipping out of bed. My fingers brushed the curtains aside, just enough to see the balcony overlooking the village. The moonlight cast long shadows across the stone floor, but no one was there. However, a small rock lay conspicuously in the center, tied with a thin piece of string.
Cofusion might have overwhelmed me—had this been the first time I’d received such a delivery. But it wasn’t. I knew exactly what I was looking at. I stepped outside into the cool night air and knelt to pick up the stone. Attached to it was a note, yelllowed and slightly crinkled. My heart fluttered. Before I even unfolded the paper, I knew whose handwriting awaited me on the other side.
Standing outside in the moonlit stillness, I carefully opened the note, biting my lip. The sight of the familiar script nearly brought tears of elation to my eyes. Noah’s handwriting was beautiful—elegant strokes that had, over the years, become more than just letters on a page. His hours of studying calligraphy, forced upon him by my father’s insistence on training even his soldiers in the art of refinement, had not been in vain. I couldn’t help but wonder if, one day, the hands of a samurai might possess more grace than those of a princess. There was something poetic about the idea, about the balance of strength and delicacy in Noah’s fingers. For the past two years, he’d sent me notes like this, and each one meant more to me than the last.
I kept each of his letters hidden beneath my futon. He would send two every year, timed precisely with the solstices, as if marking the turning of seasons mirrored the unspoken passage of time between us.
I still remember the day I stumbled upon him in the woods when I was thirteen, disobeying my parents’ strict orders to stay within the castle grounds. Noah was a few years older than me, already tall for his age, with the quiet strength of someone training to be a samurai. I found him sitting under an ancient oak tree, hunched over a piece of parchment, deep in thought.
When I greeted him, he startled—springing up with the reflexes of a warrior-in-training. In his rush, the paper slipped from his fingers and floated down at my feet. I remember the curiosity that had sparked within me, the rebellious streak that had always simmered just below the surface. Without thinking, I picked it up and read it, never realizing in that moment how that small act would change everything between us.
The letter had been meant for me, but he’d never planned on delivering it.
Sweet how it turned out.
I could have fallen for his charms just from how delicate and thoughtful his prose was, but truth be told, I already had eyes for him from long before. The letter only deepened the feelings I’d been trying to suppress for the forbidden soldier boy.
For years, my mind had been a battlefield of thoughts, fantasies, and a thousand impossible scenarios. As a kid, and then as a teenager, I had wondered what it would be like to hold his hand, to let him hold me, kiss me. What it would be like to lay next to him in the grass and let him play with my hair until I fell asleep. I wondered what it would be like if we ever ran away, if we ever battled for a life together.
I had wondered so many things. I had had so many dreams… Still had them.
Tonight one of them was about to come true. Noah was going to end this endless waiting, this dread of wanting something I thought I could never have.
The message this time was short and simple:
Meet me in half an hour at the old heiya by the river.
My fingers trembled as I clutched the note as if it were some rare treasure—like the words themselves were a gift, even though the real present, the one I had been waiting for, was the promise of what Noah had planned.
Quickly, I slipped back into my room and closed the door behind me, pulling the curtains shut to ensure no one could see in. My heart pounded against my ribs as I hurried to the lacquered chest at the foot of my bed. I opened it, my eyes falling on the delicate kimono I had carefully chosen for tonight—a deep red silk embroidered with golden cranes and blossoms. I thought it was a good representation of my youth but also a hint at the woman I was becoming.
I dressed quickly, sliding the obi around my waist and tying it in place. The silk was cool against my skin, but it did little to soothe the heat rising within me. I reached for the kanzashi combs adorned with tiny jade flowers and secured my hair in a loose yet elegant style. I kept it simple, knowing he loved when I left it flowing freely, but tonight, I wanted to look a little more grown-up—more like the woman I was. I didn’t want Noah to doubt that I was ready.
I carefully slid open the door to my balcony and stepped out into the night again. This time I paid notice to the air, fresh and fragrant, carrying the scent of summer blooms mixed with the earthy aroma of the forest that bordered the castle grounds. I took a deep breath, steeling myself, and began my descent down the side of the castle.
It wasn’t the first time I had done this. The vines that clung to the stone walls had become familiar, their sturdy stems and leaves providing enough cover for me to climb down without being seen. Still, I moved cautiously, aware that one wrong move could send me tumbling to the ground considering the kimono I was wearing. It wasn’t heavy, but the length of the folds could give me trouble if I wasn’t careful.
My heart raced as I neared the bottom, my feet finally touching the soft earth of the garden below.
I hesitated for a moment, listening for any sounds that might indicate a guard on patrol, but there was nothing. The castle was asleep, unaware of my departure. With a final glance back at the towering structure, I turned and slipped into the shadows of the forest.
The path to the heiya was one I knew well; well enough to know it was alive. The rustle of leaves, the chirp of crickets, the occasional hoot of an owl… Each sound kept me on alert, but it wasn’t fear that quickened my pace. It was anticipation, a heady mix of nerves and excitement that spurred me forward.
As I walked, the soft rustle of my kimono joined the night sounds, my sandals barely making a sound on the forest floor. The trees gradually thinned, and I caught my first glimpse of the old heiya by the river. It stood there, half-hidden by the foliage and under the moonlight, a relic of a time long past.
The heiya was a simple structure, built of wood and thatch, its walls weathered by time and the elements. It had once been a place of worship, a shrine to the spirits of the forest, but now it was abandoned, replaced by a bigger and more fortified one closer to my father’s estate, and left to the mercy of nature.
There was something different to it that night. A soft glow emanated from within, as if there were candles burning up inside its walls. I could see the flickering through the windows. My breath caught in my throat as I approached. The door was slightly ajar, and I pushed it open slowly, stepping inside.
The interior was warm, the air thick with the scent of wax and wood. There were a few candles all placed in safe spots, their flames dancing in the darkness, casting long shadows on the walls. In the center of the room, there was a simple futon covered with soft white bedsheets and pillows, its mattress suspiciously new, as if it had been placed there with purpose. The rest of the room was filled with the remnants of the past—cracked wooden beams, broken pottery, and dried flowers that had once adorned the place.
I stood there for a moment, taking it all in, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Noah?” I called softly.
The silence that followed made me doubt for a moment that he was even there.
Before I could turn, his breath brushed against my ear.
“Happy eighteenth birthday, princess.”
His voice was low, roughened by the years and the nights we’d spent in secret, and it sent a thrill through me that I couldn’t suppress. I turned quickly, elation bubbling up inside me, nearly giggling as I spun around and threw my arms around his neck. He caught me easily, pulling me close, his arms wrapping around my waist.
The scent of him—fresh pine, the tang of steel, and something uniquely his—invaded my senses. I buried my face in his chest, feeling the warmth of his body through the layers of fabric. He was strong and solid, a pillar of strength that kept on growing and that I had come to rely on more than I should have.
I didn’t care.
I was safe here, in his arms, far away from the duties and expectations that awaited me back at the castle.
The joy of seeing Noah quickly faded into a familiar fear. I could see the tension in the set of his shoulders, feel it in the slight tremor of his fingers as he held me. No matter how hard we tried to forget it—if only for a few moments—the fear of getting caught was always present. Tonight was no different.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, pulling back just enough to meet his brown eyes. My hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my palms. “It’s just us. Nothing can ruin tonight.”
“I know,” he said, but the hesitation in his eyes betrayed him. He didn’t believe his words. But he would try his darmnest hard to believe mine. That’s how it had always been. He would do anything to turn my hopes and dream into reality, as if my faith alone was enough to make the world bend to us.
I pressed a kiss to his jaw, savoring the warmth of his skin, then pulled away slightly, my hands still flat on his chest as I looked around.
“How did you…? When did you prepare all this?”
Noah stayed quiet, his responses measured, guarded. It wasn’t just that he was worried we would get caught. Even now, in this stolen moment, he clung to his samurai discipline—always the soldier, trained in control and restraint. He’d been a soldier officially for a few years, but he’d been mine for far longer.
“I wish I could’ve done more,” he murmured, not quite meeting my eyes, as though ashamed.
That’s when I understood.
It wasn’t just the fear of being discovered, or the burden of his samurai duty.
It was also the fact that tonight would be a first for him, too.
I could sense his nervousness, for it mirrored mine, and I found it unbearable sweet. My heart ached at the vulnerability he tried so hard to hide.
I smiled, tilting my head to catch his eye.
“This is already enough, Noah. I wasn’t expecting anything more than...” My cheeks flushed, and I lowered my gaze to my fingers resting on his chest. “I just wanted to be with you.”
After a moment, his fingers found my chin. He lifted my face until our eyes met. His gaze was intense, as if he was searching for something.
“I want to make this night memorable. For you. For me. Just tell me if you’re ready. Otherwise, I will wait. I will wait as long as you need me to.”
My heart swelled with an overwhelming love for him—this man who would give me everything without asking for a single thing in return. He had always been this way, even as a kid—selfless in the quietest of ways.
Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed him softly, letting my lips brush against his with a tenderness that carried the weight of all the years we had spent longing in silence.
When I pulled back, I guided his hands to the knot of my belt, my eyes never leaving his, steady with certainty, with the answer he had been waiting for.
“You already know I am.”
What followed were slow, hesitant movements; unsure ones.
We had touched each other before—months ago, I had practically begged Noah to explore me with his fingers, guiding his hesitant hand beneath the folds of my kimono. But tonight was different. This wasn’t a moment of curiosity of rebellion. It was more.
Noah’s hands shook slightly as he fumbled with my obi, his fingers clumsy in their nervousness. I had to stifle a giggle, the tension breaking for just a moment as we both realized how unpracticed we were at this. But there was something endearing about it, something pure and tender about the way we navigated this new territory together.
Slowly, the layers of my kimono slid off, the silk whispering against my skin as it fell to the floor. Noah took his time. His gaze intense, heated, filled with a mixture of awe and desire as he revealed more of me to him. When I stood naked before him, I felt my cheeks flush with both shyness and anticipation. I was not a girl but a woman now, and I wanted to be his.
Noah was too shy at the time to let his gaze linger down at my breasts or at the spot between my legs. Instead, his breath hitched audibly, and rather than look, he bent down and kissed me with a softness that made my heart ache.
It was his turn now. I reached out to help him, my hands steadier than I expected as I untied the knots of his hakama. The fabric slipped from his shoulders, revealing the lean, fit body that had been hardened by years of training and that now belonged to a man rather than a kid. I was certainly more unashamed than he was. My fingers grazed the ridges of his chest as my breath hitched at the sight of him. A couple of tattoos adorned his chest and his ribs—the last one he got, a design of sakura flowers that looked so undeniable pretty on his fair skin. The tips of my fingers patted tentatively the area around his navel, right above where a trail of dark hair descended until it joined his pubic hair. I already knew the size of his length and how hard he could get, but now I could see it.
I swallowed.
Noah’s fingers grazed my cheek, calling for my attention. I saw the worry in his eyes, and I shook my head, dismissing him.
His breathing grew heavier as he pushed me back gently, laying me down on the thin mattress. He hesitated for a moment, just staring at me. He wasn’t much more experienced than I was. As I would later learn, his “knowledge” came only from overheard conversations between soldiers—their crude jokes and dirty confessions about what it felt like, the things a man could do to a woman, what women were supposed to do. Noah just wanted to make sure that whatever we tried tonight provided pleasure not just for him, but for me, as well.
Under his soft, brown gaze, I felt like something out of a dream—my long hair spread around me, my pale skin glowing softly in the flickering candlelight. A sudden wave of shyness rushed through me, and for a moment, I couldn’t meet his eyes. I stared at the ceiling instead, my heart pounding in my chest.
Then I felt his hand, tentative and slow, exploring my breasts. It wasn’t the first time he’d touched them, but it was his first time doing so while having me totally bare under him. His touch was curious. He squeezed gently, as if trying to memorize their shape, their softness. His fingers traced over me with a reverence that made me feel worshipped.
He leaned down, his weight carefully balanced on his arms as he positioned himself between my legs. He was strong, yet his touch was still so gentle, making me feel safe beneath him. He kissed my face—my forehead, my cheeks, my lips—before I felt the soft brush of his erection against me. He rubbed himself against me a few times, making sure I was aroused enough and eliciting the first of my moans.
But as Noah began to press into me, a sharp, increasing sting made me tense. The pain was unexpected, and I couldn’t stop the discomfort from showing on my face. He noticed immediately, his movements halting as his eyes filled with concern.
“It’s okay,” I whispered, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Keep going.”
But Noah shook his head, his jaw set. “No. There has to be a way to do this without hurting you.”
He moved slowly, carefully, trying to find the right angle. I could see the concentration on his face, the way his brow furrowed in thought, the layer of sweat that was beginning to coat his forehead. Every movement, every pause was for me. He was trying so hard, and it only made me love him even more.
After what felt like an eternity, something shifted. His length eased inside, every inch sliding in until it felt like my body had molded to his. My body relaxed, and the pain began to subside, limiting to a sweet stretching. My eyes fluttered open, meeting his, my face glowing with relief. He was fully inside me now, buried deep, and it was okay. I was okay. He was…
“Noah?”
He let out a shaky breath.
“I didn’t—I didn’t know it would feel like this,” he confessed.
“Me neither,” I whispered back, my hands gliding over his shoulders in a soothing rhythm. “You can lean on me. I’m okay.”
I saw the reluctance on his face, in the way he looked down at where our bodies joined, as if we were some delicate puzzle he was afraid to break. But as he shifted again, slowly, tenderly, I smiled up at him.
“Let me—Just let me make sure…” he continued.
“I’m fine,” I repeated. “We’re doing this together. It’s all right.”
But he was so careful, barely letting his weight press against me, his arms supporting him as he moved.
Each thrust was slow, his focus never wavering from me, watching for any sign of discomfort, reading every expression on my face. As we continued, I could hear the soft groans slipping from his lips, feel his sharp, unsteady breaths as he fought to maintain control. I had never heard him like this before—so unguarded, so raw. The muscles in his back tensed under my hands, and I noticed the thick vein on his neck pulsing with effort.
His eyes squeezed shut, and he bit down hard on his lower lip, trying to restrain himself. But I didn’t want him to hold back. I wanted him to let go of the walls he had been taught to keep so carefully built around himslef. This was our moment, and I wanted to share all of him.
Then, before I realized it, Noah let out a deep, throaty groan, the sound so intensely erotic it sent a wave of pleasure through me. Instinctively, my body tightened around him. His breath came in ragged gasps as his composure began to crumble. I could feel him struggling, trying so hard to prolong the moment, to give me as much pleasure as he was feeling, but his body had other ideas. He let out a low curse, his fists clenching the sheets as his control finally slipped.
With one final groan, he pulled out just in time, his release spilling onto the sheets beside me. For a moment, the air was filled with heavy breaths and the faint scent of sweat and something else—something new. Then I saw the look in his eyes—flushed cheeks, his face clouded with embarrassment, guilt pooling in his expression.
“I’m sorry,” he stammered, his voice thick with shame. “I didn’t mean to—,” he swallowed and cursed under his breath, struggling to meet my eyes. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
I frowned, then a soft giggle escaped my lips as I grabbed him by the nape of his neck and pulled him down to me to kiss me.
“It’s okay. It was… beautiful.”
He pulled back, clearly uncomfortable, looking at me with disbelief and a hint of anger aimed at himself.
“How can you say that? I didn’t make you come.”
There it was again, the hard, determined expression of the Samurai, etched into his face. He was so serious, so focused on what he thought was his failure, as if pleasure could only be measured in a single way.
I shook my head, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “We were together,” I said softly, my voice filled with warmth. “That’s what matters to me. It was perfect just as it was.”
No matter what I said, nothing could have soften the disappointment Noah felt in himself. I could see it in the way he shook his head, the way his eyes locked onto mine, almost scolding me for trying to ease his guilt. I should have recognized it then—that fierce, unyielding determination in him. Raised as a soldier, surrounded by discipline, commands, and roughness, Noah needed control in everything he did, even here, in the most intimate of moments. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this would be the last time he allowed himself to lose that control.
Before I could speak again, Noah silenced me with his lips closing over one of my taut nipples, his tongue flicking against the sensitive skin. A gasp caught in my throat, but before I could release it, I felt his fingers sliding down my belly, tracing the line of my body until they reached the wet warmth between my legs. Without hesitation, he sank them inside me, and my body responded instantly, arching off the bed.
My hands instinctively gripped the bedsheets as his fingers moved inside me, matching the slow, deliberate rhythm of his tongue teasing my breast. Every movement was calculated and precise, as if he was determined to make up for what he saw as his earlier mistake. His free hand reached for my wrist, his fingers sliding between mine. He intertwined our hands, bringing them up beside my head, pinning me in place as he continued his ministrations.
And he held me, his grip firm, until I bit down on my lip as hard as I could when my body tensed and trembled with release.
A while later, Noah’s tension seemed to finally have melted. I was wrapped in his arms as we lay together on the futon. The candles around us had burned low, their flames flickering in the dark, casting a golden glow over our entwined bodies. His embrace was warm and secure, and for the first time that night, I felt him truly relax.
His index finger traced the tender spot on my lip where I had bitten down too hard.
“Don’t do that again,” he said. “I can’t stand the sight of you bruised.”
“It was for a good reason,” I teased, tapping his clavicle with my fingers.
But Noah wasn’t convinced.
“I was too rough, wasn’t I?”
I sighed, knowing he wouldn’t let it go.
“If I say no, you won’t believe me, so… yes, you were rough. But what if I like rough?”
He held his breath, studying my face, clearly struggling wether to accept his own beliefs or my words. After a moment, he exhaled, letting out a huff of frustration
“I should have—”
I pressed my finger to his lips, his hand falling to the curve of my left shoulder, where he adored the skin there with his fingertips.
“You should stop thinking I’m made of glass.”
“That’s not—” He paused, taking a deep breath, as if searching for the right words. “Look, I’m a man. I’ve been trained for battle. My hands are rough. I’m used to being…”
I cut him off before he could finish.
“Whether you’re a soldier or not, you’ve always taken care of me, Noah. Just like you did moments ago.” I pressed myself closer to him, my lips brushing against his jaw, where a faint stubble had grown. “I felt safe and cherised. And I enjoyed every second of it.” I smiled up at him. “I want to do it again.”
He let out a deep sigh, his arm sliding around my waist to pull me even closer. He kissed my forehead, a promise in the gesture.
“We will,” he said softly. “I promise.”
“So… can we do it?” I asked, glancing up at him, hopeful.
He frowned, looking down at me in confusion. “Now?”
I nodded, grinning. “Now.”
He hesitated, concern flickering in his eyes.
“I don’t think we should. You might be sore, and I wouldn’t want to make it worse for tomorrow.”
“I’m okay, Noah,” I reassured him, almost whining, but he shook his head.
“No.”
I pouted, pressing him with a soft, pleading tone. “Please?”
He was firm. “No.”
“It’s my birthday,” I repeated, my voice taking on a firmer edge as I moved just a little away from him, letting the sheet slip from my chest. His eyes dropped immediately, taking in the sight of me, and I saw the faint blush creep up his cheeks as he quickly glanced back up, embarrassed but undeniably affected. Beneath the sheets, I could feel the tension in his body, see the evidence of his desire stirring right between his legs. “You said you would get me anything I wanted,” I reminded him. “I want you. Again.”
Noah’s voice dropped into a warning tone, slow and deliberate as he said my name.
“…You’re pushing it.”
But I knew him too well. Noah had a temper, sharp like the blade of a Samurai, and his resolve was formidable. But no matter how stern his exterior, I was his weak spot, and deep down, I knew he would give in to anything I asked for, especially tonight.
“Pretty please?” I added, my voice soft and coaxing as I reached for the bedsheet covering his body. I began pulling it away with slow, deliberate tugs, my eyes wide and innocent, a contrast to my intentions. He fought to keep the sheet in place, trying in vain to hide his obvious erection, though it was impossible to miss the way his body responded beneath the thin fabric.
I bit my lip, amused. If this was how he wanted to play it, I was okay with it.
With a burst of determination, I pushed at his chest, catching him off guard and sending him tumbling back onto the mattress. He looked up at me, his eyes wide with surprise, but there was no mistaking the desire that flashed through them. I climbed on top of him, straddling his hips, the sheet completely forgotten.
“Now,” I whispered, leaning down so our faces were inches apart, my breath mingling with his. “Let me have what I want.”
“You’re provoking me,” he said, his voice adopting that familiar Samurai tone—commanding, serious. But the flush in his cheeks was a nice contrast to it.
“I’m not. It’s just my birthday. I can do whatever I want.”
Noah raised an eyebrow, his fingers dug into the skin on my hips, his breathing growing heavier as I ran my thumb over the tip of his hardness. I could see how much effort it took him to stay composed, but he wasn’t fooling me.
“You’re going to…” he started, but his voice faltered when I gave him a slow, deliberate stroke.
“I’m going to what?” I teased, tilting my head playfully. I could tell by the way his muscles tensed beneath me that he was fighting to keep his composure.
I loved the surge of confidence that came over me. Noah made me feel that way—secure in the knowledge that I could be fully myself without ever worrying that his feelings for me might change.
They wouldn’t. I had learnt by now that he would love me completely no matter what, with all my flaws and virtues.
His gaze hardened, and his grip on my side tightened, enough to send a flicker of pain through me—just the way he intended. “You know what,” he replied, his tone sharper, more serious. “Keep behaving like that, and you’re going to make me go all Samurai on you.”
I raised an eyebrow at his challenge, daring him to follow through.
“Do. Not,” he warned, squeezing my side.
But instead of obeying, I shifted my hips and lowered myself onto him, gasping at the sensation of him filling me completely.
Noah’s eyes fluttered closed for a moment.
“I need to be gentle with you,” he said, his voice strained as he watched himself disappear inside me. His words were laced with concern, but I wasn’t interested in gentle. I wanted him—all of him.
“Life isn’t gentle,” I said as I adjusted to the now familiar fit of myself around him.
Suddenly, Noah sat up, his arm snaking around my waist as his other hand gripped the nape of my neck, pulling me close until our noses brushed. His sudden movement took me by surprise, my pulse quickening as his gaze locked onto mine. His expression was intense, unreadable, and it made me feel exposed and vulnerable.
“I’ll be gentle with you,” he murmured, his voice low but unwavering, every word carrying the weight of a promise. “At least until our bodies learn each other, until you’re used to me and I’m used to you.” His eyes searched mine, and I could feel the power behind his words, the way they lingered between us. “I promise,” he continued, his forehead pressing against mine. “One day, I’ll give you a gentle life. I’ll never hurt you. That’s why you need to trust me. Let me do this my way. Let me take care of you.”
His words wrapped around me, pulling me into the depth of his devotion. There was something about the way he spoke, the quiet conviction in his voice, that made it impossible not to melt in his arms. Despite my teasing and my attempts to provoke him, this—his way of caring, of promising me a future where I would always be safe in his arms—was what I had always wanted.
I clung to him, my fingers digging into the firm muscle of his shoulders as our bodies pressed together—skin against skin—his hardness filling me, my thighs tight around his hips. The closeness made it hard to breathe, the intensity of it all overwhelming.
“I am letting you,” I whispered, my voice trembling, not just from the heat between us, but from the certainty I felt in every word. “You can take care of me.”
His eyes searched mine, still cautious. He moved some hair from my shoulder to my back, as if he needed to focus on something, anything that wasn’t how good it felt to have me wrapped around him.
“Then you have to let me set the pace. This is new for me too… and I won’t risk losing control, doing something I’ll regret.”
I tilted my head. I understood his worry, but it was needless.
“What could you do that would be so bad when it’s just you and me, like this?” I whispered, shifting my hips ever so slightly against him—not to tease, but to remind him how perfect this felt, how right. His breath caught, and his eyelids fluttered shut as he bit down on his lower lip, the sight making my pulse quicken.
Reaching up, I ran my fingers through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear as I watched the tension in his face. His chest rose and fell in a deep, uneven sigh, before he let his head drop to my chest. The weight of his vulnerability, pressed against me, was both intimate and tender.
“I don’t know,” he finally murmured, his voice filled with a vulnerability he rarely showed. “You’re just... so precious. I’ve heard things from other soldiers... things I don’t ever want to hear again… things I definitely don’t want you to go through. I want to make sure you’re enjoying it, from beginning to end.” His grip on me tightened, as if to anchor himself in that moment, to prove to himself that this was different.
“Noah…” Brushing my fingertips along the strong line of his jaw, feeling the tension there, I leaned in to kiss the tip of his sharp nose. “You’re the most disciplined soldier I’ve ever known. I’ve heard my father say it, too. I have no doubt that you’ll never hurt me. You might be a samurai, but your nature is gentle. No matter how fierce you are with a sword or how vulnerable we I am here, your true self always shows when you’re with me.”
His eyes flickered with doubt, still wrestling with his own worries.
“Why do you have so much faith in me?”
“Because I’ve seen your heart,” I said, laying my hand over his chest where I could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my palm. “I know who you are beyond the armor, beyond the weapons. You’ve always been kind, patient, and careful with me. You made us wait until I turned eighteen because you wanted to do things the right way. You don’t need to prove anything to me, because I already trust you completely. It’s not about what you do; it’s about who you are. And when I’m with you,” I said, leaning in so he could hear every word clearly, “I am not afraid.”
For a moment, the silence stretched between us, thick with emotion, and I could see the weight of my words settling into him. His hand moved to cover mine, pressing it against his chest as if to show me that he felt it too.
Soon, I found a rhythm that made him moan beneath me. I watched him, watched the way his eyes glazed over with pleasure, how his hands gripped my hips with a force that made me hope for bruises, something physical to carry with me as a reminder of tonight until our next rendezvous.
Above him, my hair spilling over my shoulder and again cascading past my breasts, I could see how the sigh of me—of us— seemed to overwhelm him. His eyes widened, his breath uneven, but even then, beneath the haze of desire, there was resolve. Noah was determined to pace himself, to be in control not just of his pleasure, but of ours. It was his silent promise, one I could see written in the lines of his expression and feel in the steadiness of his touch. This wasn’t just an impulsive surrender to passion; this was us learning each other—learning what felt right, what drew us closer with every passing second.
That night became the start of an intimate journey we would embark on side by side. In the coming months and through the next years, we would learn the map our bodies were, we would learn to satisfy every desire and sate all the hunger in our bones and souls. We would come to understand what we needed from each other. What we wanted to give and receive. We would learn this wasn’t just about passion but about trust, vulnerability, and the delicate balance between control and surrender.
But even in the closeness of that moment, the reality of who we were remained present, like the distant rumble of a storm. I was the Shogun’s daughter, a princess entangled in a web of duty and expectation. He was a samurai, bound by loyalty and honor, sworn to serve a cause much larger than either of us. Our love wasn’t just a secret—it was dangerous.
For a few minutes, while we moaned into each other’s skin and my nails dug into Noah’s shoulders, it didn’t matter. Nothing did, except the way we fit together, both in body and in soul.
In his arms, I wasn’t just a princess bound by tradition, and he wasn’t merely a warrior sworn to obedience. We were two souls defying everything that tried to keep us apart, daring to carve out our own path in a world that had already decided our fates.
The implications of our love loomed over us, but with every touch, every kiss, and every whispered word, we reaffirmed what we couldn’t yet say aloud: that this was only the beginning.
Summary: Samurais are bound by an oath to sacrifice their lives for their masters, if required. Among the Daimyos, the Shoguns stand as the most powerful masters, with Noah’s being a prominent military leader.
Noah’s predicament arises when he becomes embroiled in a forbidden love affair with the Shogun’s daughter. Unable to resist the allure, he finds himself entangled in a passion that is sure to bring forth inevitable consequences.
— General trigger warnings: this is a forbidden romance story. this work contains mentions of arranged marriages, graphic scenes of violence (including descriptions of blood, mentions of suicide, one mention of suggested abortion), talks of pregnancy, explicit sexual content, and talks and scenarios describing shibari practices (rope play).
main storyline
part one — part two — part three — part four — part five — part six — part seven — part eight — part nine — epilogue one — epilogue two
word count: 10k | reading time: 40mins. aprox. | series masterpost | my works ✨
Tags & trigger warnings: this takes place 2 years after the events that took place in epilogue part 1. Established relationship, dad!noah, angst, fluff, pregnancy, birth giving (flashback), mentions/descriptions of blood, sexual innuendos regarding bondage/rope play, skinny dipping, sexual content including oral sex (fem. rec.), p. in v. unprotected, creampie). Fluff, fluff, and a lot of fluff because dad!noah dad!noah dad!noah 🥹 can't get enough of him. I've wanted to write dad!noah for ages and he's finally here. And again, I've never given birth, i've never been pregnant, so excuse my lack of accuracy on that matter. If there's anything I've missed, please let me know. x
Nearly two years later
Winter had lingered longer than usual, but at last, spring had arrived, bringing with it a burst of color and warmth. The sun was gentle, neither too hot nor too faint, while a soft breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers.
As soon as the weather brightened, Noah and I began spending more time outdoors—whether it was venturing deep into the valley, lounging by the river’s edge, or simply relaxing in our garden.
This morning, I sat on a blanket spread across the grass in the front yard, with Trouble resting behind me. Her large, furry body made for a perfect backrest as I watched Levi carefully pick flowers and place them all over Trouble’s fur. At first, Trouble lay still, tolerating Levi’s enthusiastic flower-decorating, but as the pile of blooms grew, she huffed in mild protest. Once, she even let out a low growl, and I gently reminded her that he was just a baby, before telling Levi to give her a little break.
“But she looks so pretty!” he insisted, his version of “pretty” sounding more like “piuti”.
“She’s already got enough flowers on her,” I said. “Why don’t you put some on Mommy instead?”
“Yes!” he shouted, delighted by the idea. He wobbled over to me on unsteady legs, and began placing the flowers carefully on my hair.
His shoulder-length brown hair, which we had only trimmed a couple of times since he was born, had been neatly tied up in a bun earlier that morning. But after hours of running and playing a few soft strands had escaped and now hung loosely, framing his sun-kissed face. He looked so much like Noah.
When one of the flowers fell into my lap, I picked it up and held it out to him.
“Do you know what this one is called?”
He took a quick glance and shook his head before resuming his task of adorning my hair.
“It’s a daisy,” I told him.
“Daisy,” he repeated slowly.
I reached for the basket sitting nearby, filled with a mix of toys and snacks. Levi’s attention was quickly diverted when I picked a box that contained fresh strawberries cut into tiny pieces. Their sweet fragance filled the air when I removed the lid. I picked one out and held it out to him.
“Strawberry?” he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.
“Strawberry,” I confirmed, smiling. I brought the fruit to his mouth, and he took a small, eager bite, juice dribbling down his chin. I wiped it away with my thumb. “One more?” I offered, holding up another.
He nodded, this time more vigorously as he leaned in for a second bite, his tiny hands grabbing at mine to get the strawberry faster into his mouth.
With a full mouth, he mumbled something incoherent, his eyes darting to the basket, no doubt looking for more treats. I reached inside and handed him one of his toys. He eagerly accepted a wooden cart and started to roll it back and forth over my legs. At least that was better than him rolling it on Trouble’s fur and igniting her fury.
I spotted movement on the path leading from the village. A tall and slender figure made itself visible as it approached us, and that familiar flutter in my stomach came back. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of my husband.
Noah was walking toward us. He looked so effortlessly striking wearing all black, his katana at his side and a radiant smile meant just for us. His hair, tied back in a loose bun, was longer than it’d ever been, and one loose strand was swaying gently with the breeze.
He wasn’t alone.
Nestled against his hip was Sakura, one of her small hands on his shoulder, grapping tightly at his clothing. Though she was Levi’s twin and nearly two, she couldn’t yet walk, but that didn’t slow her down—she was happy to crawl everywhere. Her brown hair was tied up in a tiny bun to match her Papa’s, and it gave her an air of determination and pride. She loved mimicking him in everything. She was a courageous and bold little one, just like Levi.
“Look who’s coming,” I said to Levi, drawing his attention toward the path.
Levi’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face as he spotted Noah and his sister.
“Papa!” he called out, his small body bouncing with excitement. He started to run toward his father but stopped when I pulled him back toward the blanket, keeping him close.
As Noah reached us, he bent down just as Sakura squirmed in his arms, extending her body and arms toward me. I scooped her up, cradling her close and planting a kiss on her cheek, her little nuzzle against my chest filling my heart.
With his arms now free, Noah crouched lower and scratched Trouble’s fur.
“What happened to you?” He teased. “You look more colorful than usual.”
Trouble huffed, but as soon as Noah was laughing, she lifted her head to lick his hand. Noah smiled, rubbing her head before turning his focus to Levi.
“Hey, little warrior,” he said warmly. “How you doing?” He swept Levi up with ease and tossed him into the air, eliciting shrieks of joy. Levi giggled uncontrollably, his laughter filling the air as Noah caught him and repeated the throw.
Once Levi settled, he pointed excitedly at Trouble, his eyes sparkling.
“Look, Papa! I put flowers on her.”
“I saw it. That’s a ton of flowers.”
Levi beamed proudly, then, as if remembering something important, pointed to me.
“I put flowers on Mommy, too!”
Noah’s eyes shifted, softening as they landed on me. I was holding Sakura in my arms, who was eagerly nibbling on a piece of strawberry now. Our gazes met, and in that moment, for just a couple of seconds, everything else faded. The warmth in Noah’s eyes was as if it had just struck him again how lucky he was to have me by his side, as his wife. His gaze held mine, filled with both admiration and love, and I felt the familiar heat rise to my cheeks.
“She looks soooo priti!” Levi shouted, his voice high with excitement.
Noah’s lips parted.
“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
His words sent a rush of warmth through me, and despite all the years we’d spent together, I still found myself flushing under his brown eyes.
But the spell was broken by Sakura’s small voice. She raised her hand and waved it, her tiny fingers catching Noah’s attention.
“Me?!”
Noah sat down beside me on the blanket, letting Levi wander off to pick more flowers.
“You,” Noah began, poking her cheek, “are the prettiest babygirl I’ve ever seen.”
Content, Sakura gave him one satisfied smile, a bit shy at her Papa’s compliment as her cheeks tinted pink and she defleated in my lap.
Noah laughed. I would never get tired of the way he smiled at our children—of the joy they brought him.
A couple of minutes later, distracted by her brother’s doings, Sakura crawled out of my arms and followed Levi, and Noah and I both watched our twins explore their little world.
“Was she okay?” I asked Noah without taking my eyes of the children.
“She was as good as ever,” he told me. “Sat still on her spot during most of the training session, clapping everytime someone lifted their sword. Pretty sure she’s ready for a nap now.”
Seeing her playing lively with Levi raised some doubts.
When I turned to look at Noah, I caught him staring intently at me. A second after, he was leaning over me, tucking some hairs behind my ear and kissing the corner of my mouth.
“You look beautiful today,” he whispered.
“You said that yesterday,” I retorted, but the grin spread through my face nonetheless.
Noah shrugged, still leaning to me.
“I am merely stating facts.”
I tsked my tongue and placed a hand on Noah’s jaw to bring him to me and kiss him on the lips. Right as I was doing so, we heard a yelp.
Sakura, who had been crawling with purpose, always trying to catch up with her more mobile brother, had stopped by a bush. With her tiny hands she had tried to reach up for a flower perched higher than she could comfortably grasp. And as she tried to stand on wobbling legs, she toppled over, a small gasp escaping her as she fell back onto the grass.
Noah was up in an instant, rushing to her side before I could even react, his speed startling in its swiftness. Levi stopped what he was doing to look between his baby sister and his father with wide eyes,
I exhaled, seeing Noah scoop Sakura up into his arms, checking her. She wasn’t hurt, just surprised. I watched Noah’s face contorn in concern, and I was suddenly thrown back in time, to the day the twins were born.
We hadn’t known I was carrying two babies. After I had given birth to Sakura earlier than expected, we thought the ordeal was over. I had been sore, exhausted, and overwhelmed with joy as I held our daughter in our arms and then when I passed her to Noah. But before I could relish much in the moment, my screams pierced through the room, Sakura had been taken out from Noah’s arms, and he’d been ushered out.
To this day, it was still the worst and best day of Noah’s life.
He thought he was going to lose me, unaware that the pain that was seizing me had to do with the fact that there was still another baby inside me, desperate to come into the world. Levi had been bigger than Sakura from birth. Noah held this belief that he’d been taking care of his sister inside my womb and he had been a gentleman and let her out first. However, the contractions that came with him were at full force. The surprise and intensity of it all left me feeling drained, my body struggling to cope. The second birth had been arduous, and by the time Levi was born, I was too weak to stay conscious. I had also lost a lot of blood.
After Levi’s birth, Rika had rushed to find Noah.
“What happened?” Noah had asked, frozen as they placed his babygirl back in his arms, but the familiar cry he heard didn’t come from the baby he was holding. His mind was racing. He looked around. Then, he spotted Milla not too far. She was holding his babygirl. In a heartbeat, the truth hit him. He was holding a boy. There were two babies. Twins.
His gaze flickered back to me immediately, terrified of what he would see. He spotted me, pale and unmoving on the futon. Panic filled his chest as he stared at the blood beneath me.
“She is… She’s going to be okay, right?” he asked, because there was no other possible question—or outcome. His voice had barely been steady as he held our son close, unable to tear his eyes from my motionless form.
Rika reassured him.
“She’s going to be okay. She lost a lot of blood, but she’ll recover. She just needs time. In the meantime, you need to be with your children.”
As she said this, Rika placed Sakura into Noah’s free arm. He stood there, arms full, cradling both babies at once. He looked down at them, their tiny faces nestled against his chest, his long arms able to hold both of them securely. His heart swelled with joy at the sight of his twins—one boy, one girl—but worry gnawed at him because I wasn’t there to share the moment.
Noah carried them over to where I lay, sinking down beside me on the futon. He sat quietly, overwhelmed by this mixture of happiness and fear. Our children drifted into sleep, their little breaths soft and steady. Soon, we were alone. The four of us—my family.
Hours passed, and eventually, I began to stir. My body ached, and my vision was blurry at first. I blinked, trying to focus, my head heavy on the pillow. The first thing I saw was Noah, sitting by my side, his face drawn with exhaustion and relief. He was whispering softly, his voice low and calming, but it wasn’t until I tilted my head slightly that I realized who he was speaking to.
There, lying beside me on white blankets, were two wide-eyed babies. Both were staring up at their Papa, their small bodies wrapped in soft cloth. The boy yawned, his tiny hands stretching out as he blinked at the world. Sakura’s dark eyes were fixed on Noah’s face, her little fingers twitching as if already reaching for him.
I blinked, disbelief flooding my mind. Two. There were two.
“Noah...?”
He turned to me, relief spreading through him like a soothing balm as he realized I was awake. His smile was tender, and though his words were quiet, the weight of them was heavy with love.
“We have twins,” he said, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. “We have two of them.”
As Noah sat back down beside me, holding Sakura close, Levi resumed his flower hunt, and I cherished the fact that our children had been born in a safe space where they could explore and grow to be who they wanted to be. Noah’s presence beside me had always felt like an anchor, always there when I needed him, but since he’d become a father, his attention and support had doubled. He caught my eye and smiled, as if reading my thoughts. I smiled back, feeling that familiar tug of affection, the one that never seemed to fade, even after everything we’d been through.
Just as I reached over to brush a stray petal from Levi’s hair, a soft rustling behind us caught our attention and I saw Rika approaching.
Noah stiffened slightly, always on alert. Rika smiled warmly, hands clasped together as she approached the front yard.
“There’s someone here to see you,” she announced. She lingered just long enough for my heart to stutter with curiosity—and a hint of worry. Sensing the suspense, she quickly added, “It’s your grandmother.”
The tension eased from my shoulders. Beside me, Noah chuckled, shaking his head.
“Always keeping us on our toes,” he said with a grin, glancing down at Sakura, who perked up at the mention of a visitor, at the same time as Trouble thumped her tail excitedly.
Grandma had always been a frequent visitor, long before Noah and I were even married. I’d tried to convince her to move into the Sanctuary, but she loved her little house in the village too much. It wasn’t far, and she promised to visit often—and she did. Her visits had only become more frequent after learning she would soon be a great-grandmother, a title that seemed to fill her with boundless happiness.
Noah stood, settling Sakura back onto the blanket next to me.
“I’ll go give her a hand,” he offered, knowing Grandma could use the extra support these days, now that she leaned on a walking stick. She’d probably appreciate Noah’s arm to hold onto.
As Noah walked toward the path from the center of the Sanctuary to greet her, I leaned back on my hands, watching him go. He moved with that quiet strength, always so sure of himself, even when the world around us felt uncertain. It was hard to believe how far we’d come since the chaos of the twins’ birth—the exhaustion, the fear, and then the joy that had followed. Now, here we were, with two vibrant, curious children and the life we’d always dreamed of.
Sakura, back to her usual determined self, began to crawl toward Levi, her hands gripping the grass as she tried to keep up with him. Levi, busy with his bouquet of freshly picked flowers, spotted her coming and toddled over to meet her halfway, offering a dandelion he’d plucked from the ground.
Inside the house, the air was warm and filled with the comforting scent of tea brewing. Noah was in the kitchen, preparing cups for everyone while the children played on the floor. I sat across from my grandmother, listening to her stories, her voice like a soothing melody.
Before long, Sakura set her sights on Noah’s katana, which hung temptingly on its stand by the entrance. Her little body wobbled on all fours as she began her mission and crawled toward it, her eyes gleaming with determination. I watched her from my seat, knowing Noah wouldn’t let her get far. Sakura seemed to sense this as well, for she paused midway and tilted her head to peer toward the open kitchen, where her Papa was busy pouring tea. Cleverly, she veered toward a cabinet, hoping to slip out of his sight. It was a smart tactic, but despite her stealth, the soft patter of her tiny hands and knees on the wooden floor soon caught Noah’s attention. Pausing, he raised his brows at the suspicious sound. The noise came again, like a small animal sneaking through the room, then silence. A grin tugged at Noah’s lips.
Moments later, a tiny hand peeked out from behind a piece of furniture, and Noah stifled a laugh as he resumed his work with the tea.
Without looking up, he said, “I can see you.”
The instant he spoke, Sakura knew she’d been discovered. Her hands slapped the floor with renewed urgency as she crawled faster.
Setting down the kettle on the kitchen island, Noah stepped out and scooped her up just before she could make her grand escape. Her little body squirmed in his arms.
“Not so fast,” he teased, tickling her belly.
Sakura’s giggles echoed through the room, filling it with a joyful energy that made all of us smile. Her small hands immediately reached towards his katana again, her fingers curling in the air toward the glimmering handle as she babbled the word: “Kitana, kitana!”
“That’s Papa’s. You’ll have to wait a little longer.”
Noah bounced her in his arms as he carried her back to the living room.
Grandma, who had been pleasantly observing, had a spark in her wrinkled eyes as she laughed.
“She’s going to learn her way with a katana before she learns to walk, isn’t she?”
I couldn’t say no to that, looking at our daughter, whose fascination with her father’s sword was growing by the day. Noah set Sakura on my lap, her tiny hands still making grabby motions toward the weapon in the distance. She was relentless.
“She’s got a strong will, that’s for sure,” Noah said, watching her as she tried to wiggle free from my grasp to make another attempt for the katana. “Just like her Mama,” Noah added, casting me a glance before heading back to the kitchen to retrieve the tray with tea and snacks.
“With a father like you, it’s no wonder she’s drawn to swords,” I teased back.
Noah chuckled and finished preparing the tea, the soft, floral scent of jasmine filling the air as he brought the tray over to the low table in the center of the room. The sliding doors were open, and a breeze swept through the space, carrying with it the scent of the garden and the occasional sound of Trouble chasing chickens outside.
“Levi, come sit with us and Grandma,” I called softly, watching Levi abandon the block tower he was building. He ran over with his usual burst of energy, his brown hair messy and strands hanging loose from his earlier play.
Sakura was already seated beside Noah, nestled against big pillows that propped her up comfortably. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she watched her Papa take a sip from his tea. Noah handed me my cup. He smiled knowingly as he passed a cup to Grandma, then turned his attention to Sakura.
“You want some?” he asked. Immediately, he dipped his index finger into his cup and offered her a tiny drop.
Sakura leaned forward, her tiny pink lips pursing as she tasted the warm tea from the tip of his finger. Her eyes lit up, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course she loved it—she was my daughter after all.
Noah glanced at me.
“Just like her Mama.”
After a while, with Levi nestled between Sakura and me, enjoying some snacks, I kept an eye on them, waiting for any sign they might be ready for a nap. Despite the day’s activities, however, both twins seemed wide awake. As the adults chatted, I didn’t notice when Levi, responding to Sakura’s insistent whispers, dipped his finger into my tea to offer her a few more drops.
It was Noah who caught him.
With a slight frown, he said, “Levi, stop giving tea to your sister.”
“But she likes it,” Levi replied earnestly.
“You won’t like it when she gets all wired and keeps you up later,” Noah warned gently.
Levi blinked, likely not fully understanding his father’s point, but he obediently wiped his finger on his shirt and muttered a soft, sweet “Papa says no more” to Sakura, who looked at him with hopeful eyes.
A while later, with the twins still wide awake and showing no signs of tiring, Noah decided to take them out to the garden to burn off some energy.
“Come on, you two, let’s tire you up,” he said with a grin, scooping them up. The twins squealed with delight as he hoisted them up high.
Once they were in the garden, he set each of them on one of his shoulders, holding them steady with his hands.
“Papa! ‘s very high!” Levi exclaimed.
“This is called weight training,” Noah told them, pretending to strain under their combined weight. Levi and Sakura giggled, clutching his hair for balance as he wobbled dramatically.
“Hey! Easy on the hair, little minx.”
He pretended Sakura was about to slip off his shoulder, making her squeal, then shifted his balance as if Levi were the one tipping off the other side. Their peals of laughter echoed across the yard. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard—made all the more precious because it was Noah who was causing it.
Noah held them firmly, with the practiced ease of a father—and a Samurai, of course— who would never let them fall. Eventually, he set them down, and the two darted off across the grass. A short while later, Levi discovered a fallen wooden branch, smooth and straight—perfect for his purposes. His small fingers gripped it with a sense of destiny, and he swung it around with wide, serious eyes.
“Papa!” he called. Then announced proudly, “I Samurai!”
Sakura, his biggest fan, started clapping her hands as she sat on the grass, hair messy and her face alight with admiration for her brother. Noah chuckled, kneeling down beside Levi, his own eyes twinkling.
“Show me your stance, little warrior.”
Levi straightened up, glancing at his father with fierce concentration, and clumsily attempted to imitate Noah’s stance, one foot forward, knees slightly bent. His little face was full of focus as he held the stick in front of him, eyes narrowed. Noah bit back laughter, unable to hide his delight at the sight of his son’s determined expression.
“You look like a real samurai, Levi,” Noah praised, giving him an approving nod. “But remember,” he added, “a samurai must have patience and strength.”
Levi nodded solemnly, gripping his wooden “sword” with purpose.
“And they look after their baby sisters!”
Noah nodded. “They look after the girls they love,” he corrected.
Sakura crawled over at full speed to join them bouncing on her hands and knees with enthusiasm. Noah, still kneeling, extended his arm to offer her support in case she wanted to try and stand up.
From our seats in the living room, Grandma and I watched the scene unfolding in the garden. The sliding doors were open to the porch, and the breeze carried the sounds of Noah’s laughter and the twins’ gleeful squeals inside. We sipped our tea as we observed the little family scene—my little family.
“Noah is so devoted to the children,” Grandma commented, “and to you. It makes me so happy to see this man so committed to his family.”
“I can only imagine how devoted he’ll be when there’s three of them,” I said, almost absently.
Grandma turned to me, her eyes widening in surprise.
“Three? What do you—?”
I gently placed a hand over my stomach.
“I think there’s a third one on the way,” I whispered.
“Oh, darling!” she exclaimed, immediately wrapping me in her arms. I hugged her back, feeling her love and excitement surround me. As I glanced over her shoulder, I caught sight of Noah looking toward me from the garden, a quizzical expression on his face. I waved him off with a quick shake of my hand, signaling that everything was fine.
“Does he know?” Grandma asked, pulling back and searching my face with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.
“Not yet,” I replied. “I don’t want him to start worrying about me or the baby too soon. He’d only stress himself out and live in a constant state of panic.”
A soft, delicate smile spread across her face as she nodded in understanding. One last glance down at my stomach, and her eyes showed a new light as she processed the happy news.
“You’ve built such a precious family,” she noted, squeezing my hand. “This is what you deserve.”
I nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle in my heart. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of.
My attention drifted back to the garden, where I spotted Sakura crawling across the grass again, her little body wiggling as she explored every inch of the ground. Levi toddled after her, a tiny, determined protector, keeping an eye on her every move as he held the stick in his hand. When Sakura reached out for a small, spiky stone, Levi waddled over, furrowing his brow in concern.
“No, sis! Don’t touch!” he scolded in his limited but emphatic vocabulary, holding out his hand to stop her.
Despite her brother’s warnings, Sakura only giggled, flashing him a mischievous smile before crawling even faster, forcing Levi to chase after her. His little legs moved quickly, stumbling slightly but with determination as he followed her across the garden. Watching the two of them, Noah leaned back on the grass, a proud smile spreading across his face as he witnessed the bond between our kids.
When Sakura crawled back to her Papa, Noa brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face.
“Why don’t we practice your walking skills a little bit, huh? Enough crawling around,” he said, tapping her tiny nose. “Until you can stand on your own, babygirl, how do you plan on holding a katana?”
Sakura probably only caught the word “katana”. Nonetheless, she raised her arms up to him, and with his help, she planted her feet in front of her. Levi, always eager to be part of his sister’s milestones, scrambled to her side. He grasped her small hand. Noah placed his huge ones around her little body.
“Come, sis,” Levi encouraged. He tugged her hand forward, his eyes never leaving hers as he and Noah helped her up and steadied her. Sakura wobbled, almost losing her balance. She took a shaky step, then another.
Levi coaxed her along with a beaming smile, glowing with pride at his sister’s efforts.
“You’re doing it, sis!” he said, pulling her forward with all the enthusiasm his small frame could muster. Sakura responded with another happy squeal, her trust in her brother absolute as she stumbled forward, gripping his hand tightly.
From the edge of the garden, Trouble lay stretched out under the sunlight, her black eyes tracking every move. She watched Sakura’s attempts with rapt attention, her tail swishing with encouragement as if cheering on our little one.
Sakura took a few more shaky steps, her hand still gripping Levi’s for balance, until she finally lost her footing. But just as she began to teeter, Noah scooped her up into his arms before she could fall. Sakura clung to her Papa, and Trouble, as if sensing the moment, lifted her head and let out a triumphant howl, celebrating our tiny human’s success.
Noah laughed, cradling Sakura close as she snuggled into Noah’s chest, exhausted but utterly thrilled, while Trouble wagged her tail even harder, her proud gaze following. It was as if she understood the victory of Sakura’s steps and was just as invested in every small victory as the rest of us.
As Noah held Sakura, her head rested against his shoulder, her hair now loose—the bun undone, and the hairband lost somewhere in the garden. Her eyelids began to flutter, the day’s activities finally catching up with her. She gave a little sigh, her fingers curling sleepily into his shirt as she drifted off. Noah turned to Levi, extending his free hand.
“Come on, buddy.”
Levi obediently took his father’s hand, and together they headed back inside, with Trouble padding along behind them.
Once we were all back in the living room, Trouble trotted over to me, her keen eyes meeting mine with a knowing glint. She pressed her nose against my stomach, nudging me softly. I stroked her fur and gave her a gentle “Shh,” hoping she’d keep our little secret just a bit longer.
Meanwhile, Noah adjusted his grip on the now-snoozing Sakura, and glanced at Levi, who was yawning and rubbing his eyes.
“Let’s get you two to your room for a nap,” he murmured, giving Levi’s hand a squeeze. Levi didn’t protest, his tiredness starting to show. “Go give Mama and Grandma a kiss.”
Levi leaned in and placed the softest kiss on my cheek, whispering, “bye, Mama.” Then moved to hug Grandma.
As they made their way to the twins’ shared bedroom, I watched them disappear down the hallway and Trouble settled down beside me, resting her head on my lap. I scratched behind her ears.
After a little while, Noah came back.
“They’re both out like lights.” He settled into his seat with a relaxed sigh, picking up his cup and taking a long sip of his tea. He noticed Trouble, who was still comfortably nestled with her head on my lap. “Hey, big girl,” he said with mock indignation, arching an eyebrow. “Where’s my share of the cuddles?”
As if understanding his request, Trouble lifted her head from my lap and trotted over to Noah, plopping down beside him with a huff. He scratched her behind the ears and ruflled the fur on her neck. She leaned into him, accepting his attention with her usual grace.
The peace didn’t last long, though. Less than an hour into their nap, I noticed Trouble’s ears perk up, her attention shifting to the hallway. She slipped away from us, heading toward the children’s bedroom.
She had sensed them waking up.
Sakura and Levi weren’t the type to cry when they woke; for the past year, they’d developed a habit of waking each other with little noises and soft giggles, almost as if inviting each other to play.
I got up and followed Trouble, who smoothly squeezed through the gap Noah had left in the door.
When I opened it fully a moment later, I found Levi already out of bed, his face alight with excitement as he tried to wrestle with Trouble, charging at her and pushing with all his tiny might. Trouble looked thoroughly amused as she lay there with perfect patience, moving just enough to make him feel like he was putting up a real fight. His laughter rang out as he finally managed to clamber onto her back. In response, Trouble rolled over gently, pinning him beneath her massive paw in a playful but controlled move.
Not wanting to be left out, Sakura, who was obviously also awake, crawled over, her eyes fixated on Trouble’s tail as it swished enticingly from side to side. With a little pout, she reached out, trying to grab it, but Trouble swayed it just out of reach, starting a game of chase. Sakura crawled faster as she tried again and again to capture the elusive tail.
“Catch Trouble!” she called.
Levi, now up on his feet, toddled around the room with all the confidence of a young explorer, and Sakura was quick to follow, her rapid crawling fueled by her intention to keep up with either her big brother of the wolf. Her little hands slapped against the floor as she tried to match their pace, but every so often, she would fall just a bit behind, her face scrunching in frustration.
Noticing this, Trouble ever so heedful, decided to pad over to her and lay down directly in her path, as if offering a solution. Sakura’s eyes lit up, and she eagerly clambered onto Trouble’s back, settling herself with a triumphant smile as she shouted “catch!”. With her tiny hands buried in Trouble’s thick fur, she held on tightly as the wolf rose slowly, careful with each movement and letting her enjoy her “victory”. Then, with Sakura perched securely on her back, Trouble began to walk at a measured pace, following Levi’s toddling path around the room. Sakura squealed with joy, her laughter bright as she held on, her little body bouncing with each step.
I watched them all, my heart full as I leaned against the doorframe.
Come evening, we prepared for the nightly ritual of bath time, one of my favorite moments of the day, while Grandma prepared dinner. I’d insisted she leave it to us, as she was our guest, but she insisted on cooking while we took care of the children. Noah and I filled the tub with warm water, adding just a hint of baby shampoo that filled the air with a soft, sweet fragrance and created a layer of frothy bubbles on the surface. After I undressed Sakura and Noah undressed Levi, we eased them gently into the water, ensuring their little bodies had time to adjust to the warmth.
Sakura, a water enthusiast, started kicking her legs right away. The instant her tiny feet touched the water, she sent splashes flying toward me, Noah, and her little brother, setting off giggles that only grew louder as she saw our crinkled faces.
Once seated in the tub, Levi joined in the fun, slapping the bubbles with his hands and gathering foam to blow into the air—a trick he’d picked up from watching me when they were a bit younger. Noah and I washed them carefully, shampooing their hair, which sometimes turned into a bit of a juggling act as they squirmed and giggled, forcing us to keep a steady grip so they wouldn’t slip beneath the water.
“Close your eyes,” Noah called out when it was time to rinse their hair. They both complied, but Sakura’s face always tensed a little, still a bit wary of the water streaming over her head and face.
Finally clean, smelling fresh and looking irresistibly pink-cheeked, with their skin moisturized and their hair tangle-free, we bundled each of them in thick, fluffy white towels, wrapping them snugly into two little burritos. They looked up at us, eyes half-closed, as if already starting to sink into the cozy warmth, the softness of the towels hugging their tiny bodies.
I stayed behind in the bathroom to clean up as Noah carried our little bundles over to our bed. I gathered the twins’ bath toys, placing them in a basket, then paused just outside the doorway to watch. Noah knelt on the bed, playfully towering over their tiny forms as they lay side-by-side, snug in their towel cocoons. He was using his playful, bedtime voice.
“Who are Papa’s favorite little warriors?”
Sakura and Levi gurgled and giggled under their Papa’s attention. Levi reached out, and Noah leaned closer, letting the tiny fingers brush his cheek, only to “accidentally” shift so Levi’s hand tapped his nose instead. Noah widened his eyes in surprise, prompting a delighted laugh from Levi. With a grin, Noah lifted Levi’s chubby feet, playfully nibbling at his toes before turning his attention to Sakura, who had been watching his antics with wide-eyed fascination.
“What about you?” he asked. “Are you a brave little warrior?”
Sakura stretched an arm toward him, and he took her tiny hand, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. Then, tracing a line down her face, he murmured, “You’re Papa’s fearless princess, that’s what you are,” finishing with a tender boop on her nose.
He unwrapped her towel just enough to blow soft raspberries on her belly, then did the same to Levi, sending both of them into fits of giggles as they tried to curl up as if trying to escape.
“Who’s got the giggles now, huh?” Noah chuckled.
Noticing me in the doorway, he reached out a hand, and I joined him, bringing over the kids’ pajamas from the drawer.
The next morning, Sakura was suprisingly the first to wake, her little voice calling for me. I could tell immediately that she was hungry, so I scooped her up and took her with me as I sat in the rocking chair in the room, where the quiet of the early morning enveloped us like a cozy blanket. As I fed her, the soft light filtering through the window illuminated her delicate features, and I couldn’t help but smile at how sweet and peaceful my daughter looked, with her Papa’s same eyes and hair.
“Slept well, babygirl?”
With her hands around the bottle and her lips glued to the tip, her eyes found mine and she nodded.
Once she was fed and fully awake, I reminded her that Levi was still asleep, so I carried her with me back to the master bedroom, where Noah was still tangled in the sheets, lying on his stomach, shirtless, with one hand tucked beneath a pillow.
“Papa,” Sakura called.
Just hearing her say his name was enough to coax a smile from him, even with his eyes still closed. I let her climb onto the bed, and she crawled right over to him, nudging his tattooed shoulder with a soft insistence.
“Papa!” she repeated, louder this time, her tiny hands pushing against him.
“Yes, babygirl?” Noah mumbled, rolling over slowly to face her.
Sakura babbled something that neither of us quite understood, and we shared a laugh, enchanted by her morning enthusiasm.
“I know, I know,” Noah replied, stretching his arms overhead as he sat up, the sheets slipping away to reveal the entirety of his muscled tattoed torso.
After a few moments of morning cuddles, Noah got dressed and decided to take our daughter out into the garden, where they were greeted by Trouble. They settled on the porch, where Noah cradled our baby girl in his arms, the two of them framed by the glow of the rising sun.
As the first light of day crept over the mountains, Sakura cooed and babbled happily, her little hands pointing at the sky in wonder. Noah murmured softly to her, sharing snippets of thoughts and observations about the world. He pointed out the way the colors changed in the morning light, the birds flitting about, and the way the leaves shimmered with dew.
After the entire family woke up and had finished breakfast, Grandma called out the children into the living room.
“I have some surprises for you, little ones. Come here sit with Grandma.” On the floor in front of her were colorful packages wrapped in bright paper, each adorned with shiny ribbons. “Look what I brought for you!”
Levi dashed over, tugging at his sister’s hand to urge her to crawl along behind him.
Grandma began by handing them each a small package. Levi ripped into his with the fervor of a true little boy, revealing a set of brightly colored building blocks. His eyes widened in awe.
“Look, Mama!” he exclaimed, holding them up proudly.
Sakura, on the other hand, took her time, delicately unwrapping her gift with tiny fingers. When she finally revealed a plush white bunny with extremely long ears, her face lit up with pure joy. She hugged it tightly to her chest, her delight evident as she nestled her head against it.
“Do you like your new bunny, sweetheart?” Grandma asked, her heart swelling with happiness.
Sakura nodded vigorously.
After unwrapping the toys, Grandma reached behind her and brought out two beautifully folded outfits.
“For my little warrior,” she announced, holding up a small, traditional outfit for Levi—a miniature warrior’s attire, complete with delicate, intricate details that mimicked one of his father’s. “And for my little princess,” she continued, revealing an elegant white kimono adorned with tiny embroidered blossoms.
We’d kept both children in modern, comfortable clothes—soft cotton jumpers, leggings, and joggers that allowed them to move freely and easily. But seeing these traditional clothes, made with such care and attention, felt like a small window into the past, connecting them with the roots of their heritage.
Levi darted over to Noah, who was sipping black coffee by the garden, one hand cradling his mug while the other rested on Trouble’s thick fur, who stood at Noah’s waist even on all fours.
“Papa! Can you help me wear this? I’m going to be just like you!” Levi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, the bundle of cloth and miniature armor pieces clutched in his tiny hands.
Noah set his coffee down and motioned Levi closer. He knelt, carefully fastening each part of the outfit, steady hands adjusting every strap and buckle with the same focus he might bring to his own armor. Levi stood stock-still, his chest puffed out proudly. When Noah finally stepped back to take in the sight, Levi looked every inch the little warrior.
Noah chuckled softly, reaching out to smooth our son’s hair.
“Looking good, Levi,” he murmured, feeling a tug of pride at the familiar look in Levi’s eyes. It was like seeing a younger version of himself, bold and ready for anything. “Did you say thank you to Grandma?”
As if realizing his mistake, he turned around and shouted, “Thank you, Grandma!”
Grandma’s smile only grew bigger.
As we admired Levi’s transformation, I noticed Sakura still sat on the floor, a look of frustration and sadness spreading across her face. She was tugging at her sweater, trying to pull it off by herself, her little face scrunched up in concentration—and then she started to cry silently, overwhelmed by her desire to join in but unable to undress on her own.
“Oh,” I muttered as I walked to her and kneeled down. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re going to help you.”
“No need to cry, come on,” Noah interjected, scooping her up and settling her on his lap as he took a seat on the couch. “Arms up, baby.”
She lifted her arms, sniffling a little as he gently pulled off her sweater and guided her tiny arms into the sleeves of her kimono. He adjusted each fold with care, and then tied the delicate sash around her waist. Once she was dressed, Noah lifted her and propped her up on his thighs. She stood there, balanced in his hands, her big eyes taking in the soft white fabric that flowed elegantly around her tiny frame. The kimono’s delicate folds shimmered in the morning light and made her look like a tiny princess straight out of a storybook.
“Look at you. My beautiful babygirl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek.
Sakura stood still, gazing up at him with a tiny blush blooming on her cheeks, her admiration shining so openly that it made Noah chuckle.
“I think your daughter might be in love with you,” Grandma commented with a smile.
“You have no idea,” I interjected, and all of us laughed.
I walked over to them, smoothing my hand over the soft, white fabric of Sakura’s kimono, adjusting a fold even though Noah had already done it perfectly. She gazed up at me, her big eyes bright with excitement, and I couldn’t help but smile, my heart swelling as I took in her joy.
“You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart,” I murmured, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. I glanced at Noah, letting a playful glint spark in my eyes. “Daddy did a great job.”
Noah smirked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes.
“Pretty good with belts and knots, aren’t I?” he murmured, his voice low enough that only I caught the edge of his joke. I shot him a wide-eyed look, barely able to hold back my laugh. Typical Noah, sneaking in a comment like that while Grandma and the kids were right there. Lucky for him, everyone else seemed blissfully unaware.
Then, with that familiar, warm smile, he slid his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. He didn’t even have to say anything for me to feel how much he loved being here with us, with his family.
Sakura watched us, her little face brightening as she glanced between her father and me. “Papa, kiss Mama,” she piped up, clapping her hands together.
Noah chuckled, his gaze meeting mine with a look that held years of shared stories, a million unspoken words. Then he tilted his chin up, I bent down, and he kissed me, a soft press of his lips that was so familiar yet always felt like a quiet thrill. Sakura’s giggles filled the room, the kind of laughter that made everything feel lighter, as if we’d slipped into one of the fairytales she loved so much.
After spending time with Grandma and taking a walk down to the heart of the sanctuary that morning, we met Rika’s family and other neighbors. Lunch was a communal affair in the main hall, where the air was rich with the scent of fresh rice, vegetables, and miso. Levi and Sakura spent the afternoon running about, playing with Rika and Milla’s children, giggling as they chased one another—eighter on two or four legs—, and even cautiously patting and feeding the deer that roamed around.
Trouble stalked nearby, her tail held high and a low, protective growl rumbling every time one of the other animals got too close to Levi and Sakura. She was overprotective, and it was clear she took her self-imposed role as a guardian seriously.
Eventually, we made our way back to the house, the golden afternoon light filtering through the trees. While Noah went outside to feed Trouble, Grandma approached me with a knowing look in her eye. She took my hands in hers, her warmth and wisdom wrapping around me.
“Why don’t you and Noah take some time for yourselves?” she suggested. “I’ll stay here with the children.”
“But you only just got here,” I protested, reluctant to impose. “You don’t need to jump right into babysitting duty, Grandma.”
She gave a small laugh, her eyes crinkling.
“Maybe because I think Noah should know the news,” she said.
I paused, feeling a soft swell of emotion at the thought. Her hand squeezed mine as she looked into my eyes.
“I know he’ll be even more protective and likely won’t let you out of his sight for a moment, but he deserves to be part of this journey and not miss a day. Let him share in the joy and excitement with you.”
I took a deep breath. She was right, of course. Noah deserved to be a part of this new chapter from the very beginning, and I could already picture the joy in his eyes when he found out about the life growing inside of me.
I bit my lip, but eventually nodded. With my heart grateful, I gave Grandma a warm hug.
After a quiet moment, I made my way outside, finding Noah as he leaned against a tree, watching Trouble with a satisfied smile as she finished her meal. He looked up as I approached.
“Why don’t we go out for a bit?” I suggested, doing my best to sound casual.
Noah raised an eyebrow, casting a glance toward the living room where Levi and Sakura were happily playing with Grandma.
“Again? I think both the kids and Grandma might be tired…”
“Just the two of us,” I clarified, cutting him off with a small smile.
He turned back to me, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding, realization dawning in his eyes.
A slow smirk crept across his face.
“Just us?” he murmured, his tone lower.
“Yes,” I replied, extending my hand toward him. He took it without hesitation, his warmth making me feel all the more eager to share this not-so-little secret with him.
Inside, we gathered a picnic basket and filled it with a blanket, fruit, and other snacks. We said goodbye to the children, who didn’t seem too preoccupied with us leaving thanks to Grandma’s presence. As we made our way to the door, Trouble followed us, glancing over her own back every two seconds, clearly undecided between following us or staying back with Levi and Sakura.
“No worries, Trouble. You’re in charge here,” Noah told her. She hesitated, giving us one last look, before trotting back inside and settling herself protectively beside the children, her tail curling around Sakura and tickling her in the face, making her scrunch her nose and cover her face with her arms.
Noah and I left the house with a loving laugh.
The weather was perfectly warm and clear as we set off up the path toward a hidden pond not too far, eager to savor the last few hours of sunlight. It was a secluded little haven we had discovered just before I got pregnant with the twins—a place Noah and I had made our own, keeping it a secret even from the kids for now. As much as we loved being parents, we cherished our time alone, too. Though Noah hadn’t said it outright, I could tell from the glint in his eyes how much he appreciated Grandma’s gesture in giving us this moment to ourselves.
We spread out the blanket on the sand surrounding the pond, the warmth of the late afternoon settling over us as we unpacked apples, peaches, berries, and pastries from the basket. Noah settled down and I knelt beside him, reaching eagerly for one of the chocolate pastries. But before I could take a bite, he gestured for me to sit between his legs. I moved over and leaned back into his arms, savoring the comfort of his warmth and the easy rhythm of his breath against my neck.
With his arms wrapped around me, he held a box of berries in front of us and began feeding both of us, occasionally rubbing a blueberry over my lips to tease me, pulling it back with before I could catch it. When I gave his thigh a playful pinch, he yelped, and I turned my head to meet his gaze with a glare that said, “You deserved that.”
After a while, with our appetites satisfied, I relaxed against him, my head resting on his shoulder and his chin gently perched on mine. His cheek brushed against me, warm and slightly rough—just the way I liked it. His arms held me close, my hands resting atop his as we took in the view together: the slow sway of the water, the vibrant reflections of the sun across the pond, the birds soaring overhead, and the flowers tilting upward as if reaching for the fading sun.
I felt the soft ghost of Noah’s lips graze the crook of my neck, where my skin was exposed. Instinctively I tilted my head to give him more access.
“I love the way you smell,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against my skin.
“What do I smell like?”
“Hmm. Lavender and… baby powder.”
I snorted, laughing softly.
“So do you,” I teased, leaning in at an odd angle to nuzzle my nose against his cheek. He pulled a face.
“Please don’t tell me that,” he groaned. “A Samurai smelling like baby powder? Not exactly intimidating.”
“It makes you a responsible, caring dad.” My voice softened as I looked up at him, our faces so close I could see the flecks of darker brown in his eyes. “You’re the best father to our children I could’ve ever asked for.”
“Because you and our kids deserve only the best,” he replied, his hand sneaking up to touch my chin with a finger. He tiped it up. Then his palm cupped my cheek and he brought our lips together.
We kissed under the trees, surrounded by the earthy scent of the forest, birdsong, and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Gradually, my body melted beneath his touch, and he shifted until I was lying back on the blanket, his mouth never leaving mine.
Since the moment I got pregnant, Noah’s affection and care had grown, and he had never stopped showing how much he loved me and how beautiful I was in his eyes. He was a grown man now; gone was the teenage boy I’d watched training tirelessly on my father’s grounds. But his heart remained unchanged, and every now and then, he’d still wear that peaceful expression while he slept—the look of that young boy I’d first fallen in love with. Now, Noah was my husband, my soulmate, but he would always also be the boy that stole my heart.
Lying on the blanket, his hands explored my body, slipping beneath the fabric of my kimono to find my skin while my fingers trailed through his hair, drawing soft sounds from his lips that stirred a warmth deep within me. I hooked a leg around him, arching to meet him, offering myself without hesitation. Noah murmured something against my mouth, and as I ran a hand down his back to slip beneath his shirt and touch his muscles, his grip on my waist tightened.
“Behave,” he ordered, his voice rough. His eyes remained closed as he untied the laces of my kimono, spreading the fabric to either side and exposing my skin to the open air, a chill raising goosebumps.
“Or what?” I teased, nipping at his lower lip.
When he opened his eyes, they were dark and narrowed, though a playful glint lingered in them.
“Or I’ll find a good use for this belt,” he replied.
“Oh? And then…?”
His brow lifted, slightly taken aback by my boldness.
“Then I’ll place these berries on every spot that makes you shiver,” he murmured, his fingers tracing down the valley between my breasts and along my sides, tickling lightly. My giggles bubbled up, and he laughed with me, though his intent was clear. “And I’ll eat every one of them off you before letting my tongue wander between your legs.”
Heat pooled low in my belly, but I maintained a calm facade.
“And you’re going to act so indecently out here in the open?” I teased, tilting my head toward a nearby deer quietly grazing in the shade.
Noah followed my gaze.
“They’ve witnessed far filthier things than that, done by you,” he teased right back.
I couldn’t suppress a wide smile before his mouth descended on mine. In a matter of minutes, my underwear was gone, and Noah was making good on his promise with focused, deliberate devotion. I lay exposed on the blanket, berries scattered across my stomach as his mouth traced every inch of me, savoring each berry he plucked from my skin. He licked away the juice that dripped from them, glancing up at me every so often.
Eventually, he shed his clothes as well. I watched him with a blissful smile, sated from my first climax, his skilled mouth having left gentle love bites along the inside of my thighs as the breeze carried away my gasps. When he finally entered me, I felt complete, holding tight to his shoulders as he moved within me, my legs locked around him and my eyes fixed on his. I lifted my head to meet him in a kiss, tasting the faint tartness of raspberries lingering on his tongue.
“Sometimes,” he said, his voice strained as he withdrew slowly, inch by inch, making me feel every exquisite part of him, “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him back down to me.
“I’ll be yours,” I whispered hoarsely against his lips, my nose brushing his, “until the end of days, Noah.”
Our eyes locked, and as we moved together, he would reach up every so often to tuck stray strands of hair behind my ear or simply to cup my cheek with quiet affection. At one point, his hand wandered to the box of berries beside us. He held a strawberry to my lips, feeding it to me as he held still within me, his body warm and solid against mine.
“Sweet?” he asked hoarsely.
I nodded, my cheeks flushed, overwhelmed as always by the press of his heavy body and his cock filling me completely.
“That’s exactly how you taste,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a deep, slow thrust that left me gasping. “No,” he corrected himself, withdrawing slightly, his muscles flexing under my hands as I clung to his biceps. “You taste even sweeter.” He thrust again, harder this time, drawing a cry from my lips. “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Let the Gods hear you. Let them know how good I make you feel.”
“Please, Noah,” I pleaded. “I’m so close.”
He knew, and he didn’t hold back, guiding me to the edge and staying with me as I fell, a soft whimper escaping my lips as his name echoed through the trees. He followed soon after, his released spreading through me, our bodies trembling together as we clung to each other, complete in the quiet of the forest.
Not long after, Noah led me to the water. We cleaned ourselves off, then I wrapped myself around him like a koala. He spun us in circles, making me laugh until my sides ached.
When we emerged, my hair dry because I’d kept it tied back with a kanzashi stick, we dried off and slipped back into our underwear. Feeling utterly content, I lay down on the blanket, my hair spilling around me as soon as Noah pulled at the stick with a cheeky smile. He settled beside me on his stomach. He’d collected a small bundle of flowers—jasmine, sakura blossoms, and a few other delicate wildflowers. One by one, he began placing them over my belly, just as he had done earlier with the berries. When my skin was adorned with petals, he tucked the last sakura blooms in my hair.
The sight of those particular flowers stirred memories. They were a tender reminder not only of our daughter now, but of all those years ago when Noah would visit me at my grandmother’s village home at night, stealing moments with me under the moonlight and the sheets. He would leave in the early mornings, just before sunrise and before I would wake up. When I did, he was gone, but he always used to leave a bunch of sakura flowers on the pillow as a reminder of his love.
Now, the flowers were a reminder of our past and everything we had endured—of the strenght we had found in each other and how much we had accomplished, of the man and the woman we had become.
“I have to tell you something,” I murmured, feeling the nervous tickling settling in my lower pit.
He paused, holding a jasmine in his fingers, his eyes bright with curiosity. Without another word, I guided his hand to rest on my flower-covered belly. I watched as his brows furrowed, and then his eyes widening as he began to piece it together. The jasmine slipped from his fingers, settling delicately at my navel.
A quiet breath hitched in his throat as he took in the meaning of my gesture. His eyes filled with wonder, his lips parting slightly as he looked down at my belly, his hand pressing carefully—almost reverently— over me, protective and awestruck.
His question—“Are we having another baby?”—uttered so softly and carefully, as if he believed saying it too loud might shatter the truth of it, melted me. I nodded, my smile bright and cheeks warm, the blush deepening at the comfort of his strong hand resting over our child—our third.
I felt weightless, floating in a dreamlike state as I looked into the warmth of Noah’s brown eyes, seeing the light of love and devotion that always glowed there. Not a day went by that he didn’t express how lucky he felt to have found me and to have fought for me—to had me fight for him—, how proud and grateful he was that I’d given him not only my heart but a family. I had given him happiness, the kind he’d been raised to believe he’d never deserve.
After a beat, when the news settled in, his lips found their way to my flower-covered stomach, pressing a tender kiss right where our little one was already learning the love of their Papa.
Back at home, our girl Sakura and our boy Levi played together, blissfully unaware that soon they’d have someone new to protect, to dote on, to share their world with. Just imagining their excitement and fierce protectiveness over their new sibling made me laugh, my eyes misting. Noah must have been thinking the same. He pressed his cheek against my bare skin. When his eyelashes fluttered, they sent a ripple of lovely goosebumps across my body.
My hand slipped into his hair, fingers threading softly as we lay there together, wrapped in the quietness of our deserved joy. I had a husband, an adopted wolf, a daughter, a son—and another baby on the way, created from the endless love I shared with Noah—my soldier, my warrior.
My Samurai.
✨ Author's note:
*cries* *cries more* *cries some more*
*continues crying*
Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this story, for all your support, for encouraging me to keep going after I posted the first part (which was supposed to be a one shot). Thank your for sharing your thoughts, for commenting, for reblogging, for messaging me about this fic and sending my brain on overdrive with your brainrots. Writing this story has been a dream, firstly because I always wanted to read a romance story with a Samurai and Noah made the perfect muse for it, second because it gave me an excuse to do a lot of research on Japan and its culture and history. This is in no way an accurate historical fic, but there's so much I've read online and s much I've learnt. I wish I could've made this fic into something better and make it more accurate—perhaps longer, too. But I'm currently very happy with what we've created together, yes, together, because half of this wouldn't exist without all of you that have showered me and my works with love and care. I'm forever thankful and glad that writing and sharing these so many words have brought me close to so many of you wonderful creatures.
I hope you know that, while this is the end of the fic, I have some exciting plans for the future involving samurai!noah. I don't want to say more for the time being, but don't say goodbye to him just yet.
I hope you loved reading this as much as I loved sharing it with you and reading your comments and reactions.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🥹
V. 💕
*proceeds to sob*
Taglist:
If I forgot someone, I'm so sorry! I love you! There's just so much going on in my head!
Summary: She's curious about Noah's skills when it comes to binding prisoners and restraining... her, so she asks him to teach her. Noah is just trying to be a good instructor, considering skills with the rope might be practical for her, but his princess is a minx and her intentions are a bit mischievous.
can be read as a one shot ✨ but it's part of the samurai!noah fic™ (this takes place before the main storyline)
pairing: samurai!noah x his princess | words: 3.4k
tags & trigger warnings: set in feudal Japan, forbidden love, clandestine rendezvous, references to f/m intercourse (p in v, unprotected), shibari (bondage, rope play), dry humping.
“You wanted me to teach you, and I’m going to teach you properly. You don’t need to be naked for that.”
“Are you sure?”
Author's note: Everybody say "thank you, @somebodyels3" because this was her idea. I just turned her 100 words into 3k. I hope everybody learns something from this piece and that we all go to bed knowing how to tie a handcuff knot... for protection purposes, ofc.
Also, i just edited this very quickly because I wanted to share it tonight, so there might be a bunch of typos. Sorry.
It was just an innocent question.
A question that spurred from curiosity about his mastery of ropes and his ease in tying intricate knots in mere minutes.
When I asked Noah to teach me how to perform those knots, I was still lying on the mattress in my grandmother’s village house. It was past midnight, and I had spent the last half-hour at Noah’s mercy, my hands tied while resting on my own stomach as Noah, kneeling between my legs, held my thighs and penetrated me again and again until, with a contained roar, emptied himself, his release coating my skin.
I hadn’t yet cleaned myself when, somewhat composed, he allowed my feet to touch the softness of the mattress again and approached my side to untie my hands.
First, he inquired about my well-being, deftly unwinding the red rope from one wrist and then the other with his fingers. I responded affirmatively after he gave me a concerned look for my intial silence, as I had been captivated by watching him untie me. Then, he gently massaged my wrists. And that’s when I posed the question.
“Would you teach me how to tie those knots?”
He appeared puzzled, but persuasion wasn’t difficult.
When he inquired why I wanted to learn and how I thought I could benefit from them, I shrugged, though I managed to coax him with mentions about the value of knowledge in general and how they might be practical in certain situations, perhaps even for my own protection.
Before long, he was between my legs with a cotton towel, wearing a silly grin as he cleaned me, his head shaking from side to side. It was as if he knew I was relentless and wouldn’t cease pestering him until I was content. Because I was aware there was nothing he wouldn’t do for me, and sometimes, as selfish as it seemed, I took advantage of that.
“It’s also time that I worship you too, isn’t it?”
At those words, he froze. His gaze traveled from my core to my eyes. I blinked a few times, feigning innocence, as if I hadn’t been begging him just minutes earlier to be rougher with me because he was always so gentle, treating me as if I were made of glass.
“It’s getting late,” he said through clenched teeth, reminding me that our time was limited. “Stop tempting me before I cease caring whether your parents notice you’re in your bedroom or not.”
The next time we saw each other was in the small shelter nestled within the forest, a forty minute walk from my father’s estate and the same place where Noah and I had lost our virginity years before. Noah brought along the rope and offered to instruct me, his demeanour serious and determined despite my occassional mischievous smiles.
The situation struck me as amusing because I had a singular purpose behind it all, yet Noah seemed to be approaching it way too seriously. But then again, that was typical of him, embodying the spirit of the Samurai he was.
His katana rested peacefully on the wooden floor beside the bed, never too far away in case he might need it.
“Give me your hands. I can’t teach you if I don’t actually tie you up,” he ordered.
“Well,” I quipped, “can’t we undress? I’m thinking we could have skipped this part much earlier, considering the amount of times you’ve tied me up already, while I was naked.”
He responded with a raised eyebrow and a reproachful gaze.
“You wanted me to teach you, and I’m going to teach you properly. You don’t need to be naked for that,” he asserted.
“Are you sure?” I teased.
“Yes,” he affirmed, holding my gaze until he saw my nod of agreement. “Now, be still and pay attention.”
I did. I set aside the lewd thoughts, presented my wrists to Noah, and focused on how his hands presented the rope to me, then, how his fingers moved slowly to avoid disorienting me from the explanation as they wound around my wrists.
“You’re holding the rope like this, with one end in each hand,” he began. “Start by making a loop with the right-hand side of the rope. You want it to be about the size of your opponent’s fist. Then, take the left-hand side of the rope and wrap it around the loop, going underneath and then over the top. Make sure to leave a little bit of slack, understood?”
I nodded, committing to memory the trajectory of each end of the rope and gripping it firmly. I remained acutely aware of every instance Noah’s fingertips brushed against my skin.
“Next, bring the left-hand side of the rope back around and insert it through the loop you just made, going over the top, like this. See? It creates sort of pretzel shape with the rope.”
“It’s cute,” I commented, just a genuine thought, no mischief intended.
“Not as cute as you look when you’re tied up and happily at my mercy,” he replied, causing me to shoot him a scowful glare.
He had insisted I pay attention, and now he was interjecting with these comments.
With a chuckle, he pecked my nose and continued his instruction.
“Now comes the tricky part. Focus. You’ll want to pull on both ends of the rope, okay? Tightening everything up. As you do this,” he demonstrated, “the loop you made at the beginning will start to cinch down, forming a secure knot. Like this.” He paused to ensure it wasn’t too tight on me. I assured him it wasn’t. Only when he was certain he proceeded. “To finish it off, just make sure everything is nice and tight, and you’re done. You’ve got yourself a handcuff knot. It’s great for all sorts of things, not just to tie up a prisoner. It might come in handy if you ever need to secure a weapon, for instance.”
I mentally reviewed the steps before nodding. I examined the knot that held my wrists together. I made attempt to free myself, a gesture I had repeated many times before to test Noah’s effectiveness and skill with the art of knots, but the knot didn’t budge an inch.
“Can you repeat it again, so it’s clearer to me?” I asked.
“Of course,” he replied.
With the same skill but faster, he undid the knot and freed my wrists. He repeated the process of tying me up, once again indicating each step and having me verbally repeat the instructions.
“It doesn’t seem difficult,” I mentioned.
“It isn’t,” he confirmed, still seated on his heels in front of me. “It’s one of the easiest knots. You’ll have it mastered in no time once you practice a bit.”
“Can I start now?”
“With what?” he inquired, furrowing his brow genuinely. It wasn’t that he was playing dumb. It was that he literally didn’t conveice the idea that I could practive with him, that I could tie him up.
“With you,” I said seriously.
He chuckled at first, but as my seriousness sank in, his expression shifted to one of disbelief. Why did he always have to be so challenging? He arched an eyebrow at me.
“You want to tie me,” he clarified, more to himself than to me. “A Samurai. You want to tie up a Samurai.”
“For practice,” I emphasized fighting back a smile that threatened to betray my intetions.
Noah relented with a resigned sigh, muttering to himself that it was a useful skill for me to possess, so why not give it a try.
“How will I know if I’m doing it right if I don’t actually try? And if it’s not with you, who else can I possibly practice with? Would you prefer my first attempt to be in a life-or-death scenario?” as I noticed his expression darken at the thought of such a dire situation and the potential danger it posed to me, I knew I had him convinced.
“You have a point,” he conceded, though suspicion lingered in his gaze, suggesting he thought I might be enjoying this more than I let on. With some reluctance, he handed me the rope and extended his wrists, positioning them side by side.
I shook my head, causing Noah to furrow his brow in confusion.
“I should tie them at your back. If I ever find myself in such a situation, I’d likely be behind the enemy, not in front of them.”
“If you ever find yourself in such a situation, it’ll be because I haven’t been a good enough samurai,” he replied with a hint of self-criticism.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You know I don’t like it when you’re overly critical,” I gently chided. “Please, turn around.”
“Hm. Only because you’re actually good at being persuasive…”
He turned around to kneel with his back to me. He crossed his hands behind his back, interlocking his wrists. I flashed a wide smile as I bit my lip now that he couldn’t see me.
“I’ll let you know if you make a mistake,” he said.
“How will you know if I’m making a mistake when you’re facing away from me?”
“I know the art of knots like the back of my hand. I don’t need to watch to know if you’re doing correctly. “
“All right…” I murmured, then couldn’t resist making an annoyed face behind his back.
“What was that?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I replied innocently.
“Don’t tempt me to turn around and tie you up completely; not just your hands—maybe your ankles too.”
I sighed, pretending.
“Will you relax? Drop that Samurai attitude for a moment. Pretend you’re a captured soldier, because that’s what you are.”
“Not yet.”
He was fortunate I was deeply enraptured with him. Otherwise, I would have bound his hands and instead of granting him what I had in mind, I would have left him there tied up for hours without further ado.
It didn’t take me more than two minutes, a fact that surprised me greatly given it was my first attempt. When Noah tried to pull his wrists apart and the rope held firm, I nodded in approval, tilting my head to the side with a hum of approval and feeling a swell of pride in my chest.
However, the expression on Noah’s face —as he strained to look over his shoulder— told a different story.
He had doubted my capability, and now he found himself bound and at my mercy.
“As I was saying, a captured soldier.”
“Fuck,” he muttered, a compliment hidden in his words. “That’s a damn good knot.”
“Are you impressed?”
“Yeah, of course I—“ his words caught in his throat as my lips brushed against his nape.
This was the reaction I had been hoping for.
In mere moments, Noah would realize my true intention from the start, understanding that he had no choice but to let me take charge for the rest of our short time together that night.
“You’re mine now,” I concluded.
Standing up, I circled around him, eager to witness his bewildered expression.
There it was.
He attempted to free himself once more, but soon realized the futility of his efforts. Even if he were the most cunning and well-trained samurai in my father’s army, he wouldn’t be able to break free. He had taught me himself, and I had learnt quickly.
“Well…” he began, still maintaining a semblance of composure, “I’ve always been yours, haven’t I?” A hint of sweetness and pride danced across his features and echoed in his voice. He never missed an opportunity to say the right things and make me melt.
However, the atmosphere shifted in the next few seconds.
“You did a good job. Let’s see if you’re as quick untying me.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m going to enjoy this,” I declared.
When realization hit him, he tried to stand up.
Of course, having his hands bound behind his back wasn’t much of an obstacle for him. In any other situation, he would rise and find a way to free himself, using his legs to attack his adversary.
But today, there was no enemy in the room.
Only his lover.
He might have been stronger, but I was faster.
Before he could fully stand, I guided him back onto his knees and straddled him, the weight of my body keeping him in place. I was certain no other foe had ever put him in such an intimate position.
My hands found their way to his shoulders, and as I smiled down at him —a gesture he didn’t reciprocate as surprise, anger, and perhaps a hint of pleading flashed across his face—, I trailed my fingers along the exposed skin of his neck.
“Untie me. Right now,” he demanded.
“No,” I repeated softly, my lips tracing a path along his neck.
I could sense he was holding his breath.
“I was wondering…” I began, my words barely grazing him. “If you would tell me more about your tattoos.”
“What do you want to… know?” he managed to say after I focused on a particularly sensitive spot just below his ear.
“Hmm. I’m curious about a few things…” I continued, trailing kisses from one side of his neck to the other, moving upward to nibble at his jaw and peck his lips once. “But I don’t remember exactly what I was curious about, so I might have to see them again.”
With that, I leaned back slightly, my hands stealthily sliping under our bodies until they found the belt of Noah’s black kimono. He muttered my name in warning, but I paid no heed.
Letting the ends of the belt fall to the sides, I slid my hands up through the sides of his kimono until I grasped them and slowly moved them aside, revealing Noah’s naked torso underneath—muscles, scars, and secret tattoos.
I couldn’t help but bite my lip again.
As my palm pressed against his chest, I could feel his rapid heartbeat beneath my touch. Beneath my body, I could sense his erection growing.
I raised my gaze back to him and I showed him a smirk and a special glint in my eyes, revealing that this had been my intention from the very beginning, and now he had no choice but to surrender to me.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game, young lady,” he warned, though his voice was restrained.
“Am I?” I questioned, my fingers tracing down the lines of the snake tattooed on his chest.
Bending down, I kissed the creature’s head before trailing kisses along his clavicle, then down, and down again, until I found his nipple and touched it with the tip of my tongue.
I noticed him close his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw, and a vein pulsing in his neck.
Taking a long lick at his nipple, I waited for his reaction.
With his hands restrained at his back and me straddling him, there wasn’t much he could do. I would do as I pleased for the remainer of the night—touch him, kiss him, adore him, and worship him until my heart was content.
So I traced every inch of skin, every scar, and every tattoo without feeling rushed, comitting each of his faults and perfections to memory, adoring them all the same.
When I kissed him on the lips, sweet yet seductive, he tried to keep me there by nibbling at my lips. But tonight, he wasn’t in control and he couldn’t deal with the idea. Tonight, he couldn’t halt my movements by seizing my wrists or flipping me over onto the mattress to devour me.
He could only let me do.
And I would do.
There was a spot under his clavicle that would hold a love bite for days, a reminder of the promise that my love held. Nobody would see it, but it would be there—a temporary tattoo made not by a needle, but by the suction of his lover’s mouth.
As I tended to him, I sensed him trying to find a weakness in the knot, but there was none. That’s what happens when you’re the best at tying knots and you teach your girl, I suppose. I wanted to tell him that, but I couldn’t wait any longer to see how aroused he’d become.
Sliding my hands down his chest, I found the bulge in his pants. When my hand pressed against it, palming it and feeling it pulsate beneath, his voice emerged hard and restrained, as if in pain.
“Don’t.”
“But where’s the fun, then?” I countered.
“I swear to the Gods, if you even think…”
But as he uttered those words, I freed hiscock and watched in awe at how hard it was.
“What do you swear to the Gods?” I asked, my eyes locked on his shaft, marveling at its beauty, imagining how warm it would feel in my hand, how wonderful it would feel inside of me…
His response came out as a low growl, cut off before he had a chance to answer. Shifting my position atop him, I positioned his erection snugly between my legs, tantalizingly close to my core, separated only by the fabric of my own clothing.
With delicate kisses peppering his jaw, neck, and cheeks, my fingers roamed every inch of his body on display.
Not long after, his lips were swollen, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple, and his heartbeat quickened. He clenched his teeth, a pained expression crossing his face as he leaned his forehead against my shoulder.
“Untie me. I beg you. Let me share this with you. I want— I need to be inside of you.”
“No.”
His eyes shot open.
My decision was final.
“Please.”
Oh, it was exquisite to hear him beg for a change.
“Do you think you can convince me with those beautiful brown eyes? You forget, my lover is…” my lips found their place on his neck once again, “ a Samurai, and he’s been teaching me…” another kiss, “how to be disciplined, resilient, determined, and…” I fought the urge to bite him in temptation, “lethal.”
His hips arched instinctively, seeking friction, his hands flexing with the urge to touch me.
“Make yourself feel good, then. Please.” There it was again, this time his voice deeper. “For me?”
“No.”
He swallowed, realizing this wasn’t going to play out as he desired. Not even a bit. He might as well admit defeat. He was still too proud to do so, though.
So, I ground myself against him, a sinful dance, feeling the hardness of his length pressing against me, wondering if I could withstand this much longer before I gave in and untied him, letting him fill me with every inch of his cock.
I was on the brink of moaning into his neck, so close to setting him free… But his hips jerked up suddenly, accompanied by a guttural sound, and his head pressed against my shoulder, halting my movements.
We fell into silence for a minute or so, his breathing shifting from rapid to slow and steady. His heartbeat beneath my palm was gradually relenting, yet his dick still throbbed under me, slick and wetness seeping through the fabric of my kimono.
“Noah,” I spoke, my voice barely a whisper in the confines of the small room we were in, “did you just…?”
“Do not say anything,” was his reply, stern and cold.
Uh-oh. I was in trouble.
“Untie me right about now,” he demanded, breathless.
I almost chuckled, amused by the unexpected turn of events. I hadn’t actually contemplated the idea of him coming so hard and fast by just being restrained and having me on top, fully clothed. That hadn’t been my intention, but it was hilarious all the same.
However, I knew better than to mention it, especially in that moment. So, I kept it to myself and shifted away from his lap, noticing how his release had stained not only my kimono but his as well, the black fabric now marred with a conspicuous whitish, sticky stain.
He noticed it at the same time I did, and I swear I saw fire in his eyes.
“Untie me, I said.”
“Okay,” I replied quietly, moving to his back and kneeling down to undo the knot. “But…” I hesitated, knowing what he needed, but our time together that night was coming to an end. “We don’t have much time,” I acknowledged, finally releasing him. He shook his hands violently, attempting to rid himself of the restraints once and for all. “I should head back to my father’s ca—”
“The Shogun can wait,” his resolve was now absolute.
And dangerous.
Before I could react, he was already rising to his feet, his hands reaching out to grab me.
