Work Text:
Gabriel had been knocked off balance. Preoccupied to stabilize his fluttering wings, he had been launched up into the low hanging ceiling with a swift punch to his armored chest.
He swears he hit the ceiling so hard the back of his helmet cracked, skull fracturing along with it. His wings, awkwardly folded inwards, crushed by his weight. His body spasmed as he fell into the water below. His whole body ached, he could feel the blood dripping down the back of his neck.
Gabriel stayed there, muttering nonsense. He rolled onto his injured back, winds warped at strange angles while the dying light of his feathers scattered the pool around them both. His weapons sunken to the bottom of the pool, ignored as he sat dumbfounded.
He brought a shaking hand to his nape, pulling back. Bright red a stark contrast against his dark skin. It dripped into the water below, tainting it further. His entire body burned with an unfamiliar warmth, seeping into his core.
Gabriel left in haste, he doesn't remember what he had said to that machine in his manic state. Now he stood at the beginnings of Heaven, where tall trees stretched on for miles. The remains of earth high in the dark atmosphere of space. Gabriel leans against a tree, taking comfort in the cool bark against the exposed skin of his side.
His wings lay unfurled, feathers matted with blood. He couldn't draw them closer to his body, bolts of pain shooting through his spine with every attempt at lifting them off of the ground. They dragged along behind him, a trail of crumpled feathers in his wake.
It continues to burn within him. Nestled deep in his abdomen, it visibly drips down his thighs. Unlike blood its colourless, the wound of his fractured skull has ceased bleeding yet this fluid continues to drip. He wipes it away with a shaky hand, taking note of the intense smell and how more of it leaks from his core whenever his mind thinks back to the fight just prior.
Gabriel hesitantly lifts up his skirt, back pressed against the large trunk of the oak. His shoulder blades ache and the humerus of his wings burn. He finds himself pressing further back against the tree, delighting in how his broken wings weakly twitch in response.
Between his legs is something he's always had but never paid attention to. It looks much different from when he last recalled looking at it. The skin flushed red, swollen and throbbing with a dull ache, last time he inspected here the slit in his flesh was almost unnoticeable. The cold air brushes against the lips, his muscular thighs tremble. He locks his knees to avoid falling straight on his ass.
He doesn't remember seeing this area of his body in such condition before, perhaps the machine had hit him there during their battle?
He gulps the forming ball of ice that forms in his throat, bringing two fingers to the supposed wound. He spreads it open. His whole body shook, air forced from his lungs as a bolt of what must've been pain shot through his blood stream.
It's pink, layered like serrated flesh yet oddly smooth and uniform unlike any cut he's seen. Gabriel can't see much of its interior, a large protrusion blocking his view. He notices the bulb throbbing as his fingers spread the flesh open wider.
Gabriel doesn't recall any of the weapons the machine used for battle striking the mound between his thighs, let alone being sharp enough to cause layers like this. The machine only ever used gunfire, bullet wounds are much different. The fluid that coats his slit makes his grip falter, he presses down further on the lips of the gash to keep it open.
Perhaps in Gabriel's haste to destroy that machine, to prove himself worthy, he had injured himself with his blades. No, he's too skilled for that, even blinded by rage he would never be that moronic to wield his arsenal with such carelessness.
The wound flutters, more fluid drips from the slit at the memory of battle. He's never felt like this before, why now? Was this God's punishment? Did having one's light slowly evaporate from one's body leave them with a forever bleeding injury?
Gabriel retracts his fingers from between his thighs, they're coated in a thin sheen of clear slick. He stares at his digits through his helmet. The strong scent of… human wafts around him. Vile, disgusting, unlike that of an angel.
He removes his helmet with one hand, keeping his soaked fingers away from his armor. The heavy metal falls to the forest floor. The wings kept furled for so long within the confines of his helmet stretch out. His countless eyes blink open, adjusting to the light. His head is a mass of darkness, a void harbouring nothing but the unrelenting gaze of an angel.
Bringing his fingers back into view, spreading them open. He watches as a string of clear slick bridges between his digits before breaking. The fluid cools quickly against his skin. Gabriel keeps his gaze focused on his fingers, other hand coming to rub the back of his scalp.
He had indeed fractured something when his body hit the ceiling at full throttle. Though unlike the weeping wound nestled between his thighs, the injury to his skull had healed. Dried blood stuck to the patchy flesh, soon to heal over completely without any trace. The wound to his skull was so different from the one upon his crotch.
Gabriel takes his hand away from his head, he places both hands upon the black skin of his abdomen. It's warm, he can feel something burning deep inside him. He spreads the slit open once more, index hesitantly dragging along that strange protrusion at the slit’s peak.
His teeth grit together, hard. Entire body jerks, he removes his prodding finger and writhes for a moment. His wings spread out wide and spasm, feathers ruffled and disheveled.
“Oh-!” Gabriel chokes, struggling to still his shaking legs. It burns, borders on pain, yet it feels different. The sensation that spreads out from his abdomen is so unlike that of pain from battle, it's warm and the aftershocks are pleasant.
Gabriel stands there, steadying his breathing and his pounding heart. Lips spread wide while his hand hovers just above the protrusion that made him see stars. He plants his feet firmly against the ground, determined to feel that sensation again and to conquer it.
The pad of his index and middle finger make direct contact with the engorged head. Fluid gushes from the slit and dribbles down his thighs. He struggles to keep himself steady, biting his tongue with a strangled cry.
Wounds are not pleasant to touch.
He brings another digit to it, carefully wrapping his index and thumb around the small length and girth that it offered.
Why is this one so…
Squeezing his fingers together around the bud he doubles over.
“Ngh! Aha…!”
Lord have mercy upon my soul
Gabriel can't keep himself steady, he falls onto the forest floor. His broken wings wrap around his shuttering frame. He clutches his abdomen, whining as that sensation slowly fades away, his inner thighs throb and his core weeps.
He touches it again, throwing his head back to thunk against the sturdy tree bark. Gabriel's thighs slam together and he has trouble keeping them spread. His loins are soaked in slick.
Gabriel cups the protrusion with his palm, pressing firmly down on the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers glide through his wet folds, fingers brushing against a thin layer of skin.
He prods further, toes curling as a digit slips past the edge of the membrane and squishes inside of him. It burns, proper pain, before settling back into that pleasant warmth.
Fuck.
The insides are smooth, fleshy and they pulsate around his invading finger. Gabriel can't help but explore further, pushing his index up to his knuckle.
He bites his lips, slowly lowering his gaze to stare at where his hands are. He lifts his palm, shuttering at the sight of his finger nicely curled within his heat.
Gabriel swallows, watching with bated breath as he ever so slowly moves his digit around. The entrance is tight, only allowing one of Gabriel's large fingers inside. The interior is warm, open and welcoming. The flesh inside is smooth, akin to the flesh of a maw. It feels endless, constantly weeping and begging for more.
His breath is hot, visible against the cold air of the forest with each shuddering breath. Gabriel slides his finger back, entrance clinging around the joint of his first knuckle. His middle finger presses to his opening.
The stretch is painful. His wings flutter, whimpers drawn from his lungs. It feels good, the pain akin to the sensation he felt when he first explored this part of him. He's desperate for more of that sensation.
The pain quickly fades away. The heat of his opening wrapped so tightly around his fingers he can feel the blood beating against the skin of his fingertips. Gabriel presses them in just as he did with the first.
The light of the Father stripped from me,
His fingers delightfully curl. Eyes wide as his nails press into a spot of different texture within him. He digs his nails in further, the pleasure that radiates from his core quickly overtaken by bolts of pain as he indents his flesh.
Is this what it's like to sin?
Gabriel's chest aches with a deep sense of unease. He can't remove his fingers, it feels too good. Humanity is depraved, that's what he's been taught and that's how he's looked down upon those poor violent souls.
He shakes his head, pressing another finger to his entrance. It slides in with ease, he drags his nails along his walls to feel the pain that didn't accompany the stretch. His eyes are shut tight, tears prick at the corner of his eyelids.
Gabriel's thighs shake, they press together and he doesn't bother to spread them. He grinds his hips, feeling the walls of his interior massage his digits. His thighs and palm rub roughly into his neglected clitoris. His chest heaves, rutting his hips up to meet the base of his fingers.
He presses his heels into the soil. His abdomen clenches and he can hear his heart pound in his ears. It's like there's a knot in his stomach, it scares him. It pulls tighter and tighter with each trust of his fingers, the lewd sound of him fucking himself wildly on his digits filling the air along with his hoarse moans.
Gabriel struggles to move, all he can do his pathetically writhe at the base of the tree, thighs rubbing together and feet scuffing the ground beneath him.
Fuck!
Unsteady, trembling fingers are brought to the protrusion at the peak of his folds. He pinches the bud. His walls clench down on his digits, feeling them contract and leak. Gabriel keeps his fingers curled, nails pressing into that spot that was just so sensitive compared to everything else.
Ah- Father, Forgive me!
His entire body shudders, wings flapping and spasming around his body. Gabriel struggles to breath, greedily swallowing air around the pained sounds that tear through his throat. He curls in on himself, sore wings wrapped tightly around his twitching body to shield him from the outside world.
Gabriel chokes, the grunts and moans slowly replaced by unsteady breathing as he attempts to recover himself. His fingers remain deep inside of him, he can feel the walls and his clit throb with the aftershocks.
His thighs spasm one last time as he slowly removes his fingers from his crotch. Soaked and dripping onto the ground. It reeks of sin, of humanity.
Gabriel swallows, he wipes his dirty fingers on the grass that cushions his rear. He just sits there, dazed and staring at his body.
He needs to get up. Think about his actions and what any of this means. Finally tasting defeat after countless victories and this is how his body betrays him. Revolting, yet his core still throbs with that warmth.
Wings slowly unfurl, still sore but more mobile than earlier. They must've healed during Gabriel's sinful action. Gabriel grabs ahold of his discarded helmet, he dawns it once more. Welcoming the impaired vision he's gotten so accustomed to.
Forcing himself up to trembling feet, bracing himself against the tree. Carefully rocking back and forth on his soles, he adjusts his clothing to hide his shame.
Gabriel stares up at the dark sky, the earth high above. His gaze lowers back to the forest that surrounds him, the outer area of heaven.
Gabriel needs to confront them, before this feeling vanishes entirely.