OW2 wrote the end, TW: Sexual Scene.
The warmth of Sunshine's excitement lingered in the air even after the boy carefully settled Astraeus into Archielle's arms again. There was something undeniably endearing about his enthusiasm, something that made her heart ache in ways she couldn't quite understand. Was this what family felt like? Did she always feel this sense of belonging before the amnesia stole it from her?
Azrael ruffled Sunshine's hair, a rare and fleeting smile gracing his features. "You chose well, sweetie. Astraeus Artemis it is."
Sunshine beamed, his small hands still twitching as if eager to hold the baby again. "Really? Yay! I'm gonna be the best big brother ever!"
Gabriel snorted. "You better be. It's a lifetime commitment, kid."
Sunshine's expression turned solemn as if he took Gabriel's words as some sacred oath. "I will! I promise!"
Archielle couldn't help but smile at the exchange. It was fascinating—watching how the people around her interacted, seeing the way love and loyalty were woven into their every action. It made her wonder if she had been like that before—before everything faded into darkness.
Azrael's fingers brushed against hers as he reached for Astraeus again. "You should rest," he murmured. "I can take her for a while."
Rest. The word felt foreign to her. Could she truly rest when her mind was still a tangled mess of uncertainty? But exhaustion tugged at her limbs, and Azrael's presence, steady and unwavering, made her feel as if she could relinquish control for just a moment.
"Alright," she relented, allowing him to cradle Astraeus against his chest once more.
Gabriel leaned against the doorway, watching them with an unreadable expression before finally speaking. "The banquet starts in an hour. You should change, Archielle."
The banquet. Right. Another unfamiliar event she was expected to take part in.
"Will I have time to—"
"You'll have time," Azrael interrupted softly, already stepping away with Astraeus in his arms. "Go."
A strange emotion stirred within her at his tone—something deep, something wistful. But she shook it away and allowed Luci to lead her toward her designated room.
—
Time flew by, and now the year was 2015, the 26th of the eighth month. The sky was dark, the moonlight casting a dim glow over everything it touched.
The children were sound asleep, Astraeus curled up on her elder brother's lap, tiny arms wrapped around his waist in quiet comfort.
Archielle and Azrael stood in the doorway, a shared smile reaching their eyes as they observed their children. How quickly they had grown. Astraeus was now three, and Archie—Sunshine—was already seven. Time moved relentlessly forward, indifferent to their memories, their losses, their gains.
Despite three years passing, Archielle's memories had not returned. But even without them, she knew she could trust her husband. Why wouldn't she? He was soft-spoken, gentle, a man who carried the weight of the world without complaint. Physically weak, perhaps, but morally unwavering.
She could not say the same about Gabriel.
A sigh left her lips as her thoughts drifted to Azrael's twin. Gabriel was chaotic, teasing, insufferable—yet undeniably useful when it came to handling the relentless parade of women who tried, and failed, to touch Azrael. For all his flaws, he was an ally in ways few could be.
Her gaze wandered back to Azrael.
He was beautiful. Almost too beautiful.
Soft features, wide eyes, a smile that seemed to halt time itself. And as the dim light caressed his face, she felt something stir within her—something unfamiliar yet intoxicating. Her fingers twitched at her sides, an inexplicable longing coiling in the pit of her stomach.
Heat rose to her cheeks. She forced her expression to remain composed, unwilling to betray the sudden shift within her.
Then, warm fingers brushed against her wrist.
"Are you alright, love?"
His voice was so gentle, so utterly enchanting, that she nearly forgot how to breathe.
She nodded, though her heart pounded unreasonably fast. "I'm fine, Rae. Just tired."
Azrael studied her for a moment, worry evident in his storm-kissed eyes. "Do you want me to help you to our room?"
She hesitated, then nodded.
He led her through the quiet halls, his grip steady but never forceful. Once she was seated on the bed, safely away from the threat of collapsing under her exhaustion, he turned to leave.
But just as he took his first step away, Archielle acted on impulse.
Her hand shot out, fingers curling around his wrist.
In a blur, she pulled him back—
And suddenly, he was in her lap.
Silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken, something electric.
Azrael's breath hitched. Wide eyes locked onto hers, his lips parting as if to speak, yet no words came.
Archielle wasn't sure what had possessed her. The warmth of his body pressed against hers, the weight of him, the way his scent filled the space between them—
It was dangerous.
And yet, she didn't push him away.
(OW1's A/N: Warning for below cause OW2 took the charge from here.)
(TW: Mature Scenes, Overstimulation, Dom/Sub Dynamics)
Azrael had no time to process the warmth of her touch before Archielle's hand slipped beneath his shirt, fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against his bare waist. His breath hitched, the heat of her skin sending a shudder up his spine. But then her hand dipped lower, just above his pelvis, and he nearly jolted.
"L-Love…?" His voice barely came out, but she didn't answer—not with words. Instead, she curled herself into his shoulder, her breath hot against his neck.
"Hmp… Rae…" Her voice was muffled, but her grip was firm.
Azrael swallowed, tension coiling in his stomach. "Hm…?"
Then, softly, a whisper against his ear. "I want another baby."
His entire body locked up. A sharp exhale left him, face burning. "W-What?" he stuttered, barely able to form words as she shifted against him.
Archielle lifted her head, her gaze locking onto his with an intensity that made his breath catch. "Please…" Her voice was smooth, dangerously persuasive. "But if you don't want to, I won't force you."
Azrael was trembling now, uncertainty warring with something else—something deeper, something shameful. He nodded slowly, unable to meet her gaze. "Uhm… fine… But… I—I don't know how to p-please you… S-So I doubt it'll feel good…" His voice faltered into a whisper.
She only chuckled, tilting his chin up to force him to look at her. "I'll take care of everything."
He barely had time to react before she pushed him down, spreading his limbs out like a doll beneath her. She worked his clothes off with practiced ease, her fingers grazing every inch of his exposed skin, making him shudder.
"Sensitive already?" she mused, amusement curling her lips.
Azrael bit his lip, his face burning as she hovered over him. Then—heat. A strangled sound tore from his throat as she sank down onto him, his hands gripping the sheets in a desperate attempt to steady himself.
Her movements were slow at first, deliberate. She was in control, and she wanted him to feel every second of it. Azrael's moans were quiet, barely above a whisper, but she noticed—of course, she did.
"Shh," she murmured, lips brushing against his ear. "You wouldn't want to wake the children, would you?"
His body jolted as she snapped her hips forward, a strangled gasp slipping past his lips. His hands instinctively flew to her waist, grasping onto something—anything—to ground himself, but she didn't let him control a thing.
She smirked. "Good boy."
Azrael whimpered at the praise, shame curling in his stomach. His body betrayed him, reacting to every touch, every motion.
Then she picked up the pace.
A choked sob escaped him as his overstimulated body trembled beneath her. "A-Ah—! W-Wait—! I-I—" His words were broken, barely coherent.
Archielle didn't stop.
Instead, she pinned his wrists above his head, locking him in place. "Look at you," she purred, dragging her nails down his chest, feeling every shiver, every twitch. "Still so hard. You say it's too much, but your body is begging for more."
Azrael's breath came in ragged gasps. His thighs twitched, his back arching off the mattress as she pushed him past his limit. He was already sensitive—too sensitive—but she didn't care.
"P-Please—" His voice cracked, tears pricking at the edges of his eyes. "I—I can't—!"
"You can," she whispered against his ear, rolling her hips in a way that made his vision blur.
And then—another wave. His body shattered beneath her, pleasure crashing over him in an overwhelming flood. But she didn't stop.
Instead, she slowed just enough to keep him trapped in the aftershocks, her movements keeping him on the knife's edge of pleasure and torment. Azrael sobbed—a broken, breathless sound, his body writhing under her as the overstimulation tore through him, cruel and unrelenting.
Archielle leaned in, kissing the corner of his eye where a single tear had slipped free. "Don't cry, love," she whispered, her fingers tracing his trembling jaw. "You can take a little more, can't you?"
Azrael shook his head frantically, whimpering, but she ignored it.
"Just one more," she murmured, licking her lips. "Give me one more."
And she took it.
His body convulsed beneath her, his whimpers breaking into desperate moans as she forced him through another climax, his muscles shaking from exhaustion, his mind slipping into nothingness. The pleasure was too much—his body too raw, too sensitive—but she didn't let up until he gave her exactly what she wanted.
Only then did she slow, letting his twitching body collapse against the sheets. His chest heaved, his skin burning, his limbs weak. He couldn't move, couldn't speak—could barely breathe.
Archielle smirked, pressing a soft, satisfied kiss to his lips.
"You did so well," she murmured, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead.
Azrael whimpered, his body spent, his mind shattered. He barely registered it when she pulled him against her, wrapping an arm around his waist like he was something precious she owned.
And as exhaustion finally dragged him under, Archielle traced lazy patterns over his skin, already planning for the next round.
Because this night wasn't over yet.
The moment Azrael caught his breath, Archielle moved again.
Not allowing him even a second to recover, she rolled her hips, tightening around him with deliberate cruelty. His overstimulated body convulsed, a sharp cry spilling from his lips as his thighs twitched beneath her. He was still pulsing from his previous release, still sensitive, but she didn't stop.
She had no intention of stopping.
"N-No—! Archielle, p-please!" His voice cracked, his chest rising and falling in frantic gasps. His nails dug into the sheets, his arms trembling with the effort to hold himself together, to fight against the overwhelming sensation that threatened to rip him apart.
Archielle simply smirked, her fingers gripping his chin, forcing him to look at her. His eyes were glassy, pleading, but there was no mercy in her gaze. "Please, what?" she asked, her tone deceptively soft.
He struggled to form words, his entire body trembling. "T-Too much—! I-I can't—!"
Archielle tilted her head, dragging her nails down his chest, leaving faint red marks in their wake. "Oh, but you can," she murmured. "And you will."
She moved again, slow and deep, forcing him to feel every inch, every deliberate motion. His back arched off the mattress, his body betraying him even as his mind screamed for respite. His muscles twitched under her control, sweat beading at his temples.
"No... please—" His voice was weak now, his resolve crumbling. He was already spent, yet his body responded helplessly to her touch, his length twitching inside her despite the unbearable sensitivity.
Archielle leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his throat before whispering against his ear, "I want you to break for me."
And then she quickened the pace.
Azrael sobbed at the sudden onslaught. His limbs jerked, his hips bucking involuntarily as white-hot pleasure seared through him. His hands grasped desperately at her, but she was relentless. Every thrust sent another shockwave through his exhausted nerves, another wave of sensation that stole his breath, that tore another broken moan from his lips.
His body was on fire—caught in an endless loop of pleasure and agony. His mind was fracturing, unraveling with every unbearable second. His release was forced from him again, but there was no relief—only more, only the continued assault of sensation that refused to let him go.
Tears slipped from the corners of his eyes, his body convulsing under her. "C-Can't... I can't anymore—!"
Archielle's smirk widened. "Oh, sweetheart," she purred, dragging her tongue along the shell of his ear. "We're just getting started."
And she kept going.
Azrael's body was beyond exhaustion, beyond thought. The world around him blurred as another release was torn from him, the overstimulation numbing him to everything but raw sensation. Archielle held him through every tremor, never letting up, her hands gripping his wrists, pinning him down as she continued her merciless rhythm.
His moans became cries, his body writhing beneath her, unable to escape, unable to stop. Every touch, every movement, sent another wave of unbearable pleasure coursing through his overstimulated nerves. His chest heaved, his arms weakly pulling against her grip, but she refused to let him go.
"You can take more," she whispered, her lips ghosting over his ear, her voice smooth, intoxicating. "I know you can."
Azrael shook his head weakly, his body trembling beneath her. "T-Too much... please—!"
She hushed him, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead before resuming her punishing pace. "One more for me," she coaxed, her hands roaming over his sweat-drenched skin. "Just one more, love."
He sobbed as his body betrayed him once more, pleasure erupting through him like an uncontrollable storm. He shattered completely, his vision going white, his limbs convulsing under her. His voice broke into incoherent cries, his mind unable to comprehend anything beyond the overwhelming pleasure consuming him.
Then, finally—mercy.
Archielle slowed, her grip loosening as she guided him through the aftershocks, her touch turning soft, soothing. His body slumped against the sheets, utterly wrecked, his breathing ragged and uneven.
She kissed his temple, running her fingers through his damp hair, whispering soft reassurances as he trembled in her arms. "You did so well for me," she murmured, her tone now gentle, filled with adoration. "So good, Rae."
Azrael whimpered, his body weak, his muscles aching from the intensity of it all. Tears still clung to his lashes, his skin oversensitive to every little touch. Archielle pulled him close, wrapping herself around him, offering warmth, comfort.
"I've got you," she whispered, rubbing slow circles into his back. "It's over now. Just breathe."
He clung to her, burying his face in her shoulder, his body still shuddering from the overstimulation. She held him tight, rocking him gently, pressing soft kisses along his hairline.
"You were so good for me," she whispered. "I'm so proud of you."
She tucked the blankets around them, making sure he was completely cocooned in warmth. His tired fingers grasped at her shirt, unwilling to let go. She chuckled softly, adjusting so he could curl into her chest.
"Wanna watch something?" she asked, her voice light, soothing.
Azrael let out a tired hum, barely able to keep his eyes open. "Mm... something soft..."
Archielle grabbed the remote, scrolling through Disney+ until she landed on something comforting. "How about Bluey?" she suggested, smiling as he gave a barely perceptible nod.
She reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a bowl of freshly made popcorn, the buttery scent filling the air. Azrael shifted, nestling himself further into her arms, his body still exhausted but comforted by her presence.
As the familiar, gentle theme played, she felt his body relax completely. His breathing slowed, his tension finally ebbing away. She ran her fingers through his hair, pressing a final kiss to his forehead.
Azrael hummed in contentment, his hand loosely gripping her shirt as he snuggled even closer. Archielle chuckled, feeding him a small piece of popcorn, watching as his lips curved into a faint smile.
The room was filled with the soft glow of the TV, the warm scent of popcorn, and the quiet sounds of Bluey's adventures. Azrael let out a sleepy sigh, his body melting into her embrace, safe and secure.
She wrapped her arms around him tightly, pulling the blanket over them both. "Sleep if you need to, love," she whispered, pressing another kiss to his temple.
Azrael mumbled something incoherent before finally succumbing to sleep, curled up against her, safe, warm, and comforted.
Archielle held him close, gently stroking his back as she listened to the light, happy voices from the screen. The warmth of the moment settled deep in her chest, a reminder that tonight—
He was hers to take care of.
(Started: 25/03/2025 - Finished: 25/03/2025 - Published: 07/04/2025)
(Written By OW1 at the first bit then OW2 at the end - Wasn't reviewed by OW3 (He's too innocent for the scenes provided above) - Proofread by OW2)
(OW2's A/N: OW1 & OW3 are minors. I am not. So I had to write this chapter on my own except the first part before the mature scene warning.)