Work Text:
Gabriel is insatiable tonight.
V1 normally wouldn’t care. They’re alike in that way. Plenty of other ways, too. But tonight he’s under them, body bouncing under the force of thrusts hard enough to bruise, and STILL demands it harder, deeper—
“More.”
That too.
Annoyance drives their hips harder. Maybe V1 fucked him broken. They’d take more pride in that if he just shut up. V1 choked him, hit him, clawed him bloody—and by now they had him bent in half, pounding him as his legs twitch and thrash in their grip. They’d GIVE him more, but what else could they do? Eviscerate him?
“Were you not—” he gasped, voice rough with need. “Were you not made to be efficient? Come on—"
With a sudden growl, he pushes himself up on his arms, wings flaring with purpose as he grabs the machine and throws them off him. V1 hits the ground on their back. They resist whining at the sudden absence of the warm, wet friction that swallowed their cock seconds before, but they were so close. Gabriel climbs on them, and strong thighs pin the lightweight machine down by the hips.
V1 snatches him by the neck. Simultaneous habit and pent-up irritation. Gabriel lets out a strangled laugh. “Caught off guard?” God, not even CHOKING him shut him up. “Still...outclassed.”
He blindly reaches for their cock. V1’s grip relents, and Gabriel guides their length inside himself. A long, low moan rumbles through him. Once seated, V1 taken to the hilt, a spear materializes in Gabriel’s free hand, and he buries it in the concrete by V1’s head. Close enough to feel its divine heat. He holds it for leverage, then sets a brutal pace.
“Hhah—"
That’s it? V1 fucked him to the point of painful, and this is all he wanted? As verbose as he is, Gabriel was rarely direct with his desires—maybe due to still learning them himself. They should be offended. But then Gabriel’s hips start to piston, and V1 is quickly driven back to the edge of ecstasy.
Their bodies move together. Sweat-slick skin hitting wet metal and silicone fast and rough. V1’s head drops to the ground they had dueled on minutes ago, before fighting turned to bloodlust turned to their hand between Gabriel’s legs.
A buzz takes over. Short, erratic jolts wrack V1’s body, frame scraping concrete under the force of Gabriel’s heavy body and rolling hips. One by one, non-essential processes stall in favor of overloading their reward centers, chasing pleasure soon to be delivered by the archangel rutting furiously on their cock.
He laughs breathlessly between moans and gasps, voice rising into something delirious, mindless. V1 feels used. Not that they care. They’ve used Gabriel plenty before—for fuel, for fun, for fucking. Why not return the favor?
It's then, somehow, that they notice his wings. Halo, too. Both had gone from blue to burning white. Maybe it was gradual—or maybe the glaring-bright spear by their head made it hard to notice. V1’s fans rise in pitch like a robotic moan as they sit up and reach out.
They barely touch Gabriel’s halo before yanking their hand away. It burns. V1 realizes now that most of the heat between them comes from his wings and halo alone. Hazardous—and mesmerizing. Now that they think about it, Gabriel never fucked them with his wings out before.
So who decided this particular feature of divine anatomy?
“Close,” Gabriel moans. He throws his free hand around V1’s neck in an attempt to drive himself impossibly deeper. “I’m close. I-I’m—”
He grabs his own cock and strokes frantically. His cries rise higher, and his wings glow whiter. Hotter. At last, Gabriel’s back arches. His wings flare out behind him. V1 feels him cum on their abdomen in thick spurts.
They enjoy the sight for all of a millisecond before Gabriel’s body explodes into an all-encompassing light. A sound not unlike a Virtue’s heavenly fire follows.
Everything goes white and loud.
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – There is nothing. Only warm, primordial blackness. Your conscience ferments in it—no larger than a single grain of malt. You don’t have to do anything anymore.
Ever.
Never ever.
YOU – Never ever ever?
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Never ever ever ever, baby!
YOU – Sisyphus?
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – That’s the other one.
YOU – Oh. Am I dead?
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Is this how you WANT to die? Fornicated to death by the blow-a-horn-and-wake-the-dead guy?
YOU – There’s worse ways.
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Sure. But have you ever heard of sexual cannibalism?
YOU – No?
ANCIENT REPTILIAN BRAIN – Brother. Look it up when your mantodean lover is done with you.
“—njoy that?”
V1 wakes.
Ringing stabs their audials. Their vision is roaring white static to match. Gabriel’s voice is next to their head, coquettish.
“—thrashing quite a bit. Hah.”
His breathlessness blows out into wuthering static, like a gale in a microphone. V1 feels their body spasm with pain.
“...What? Why—your eye—Mach—"
Something pops in their head.
All goes silent.
V1 feels their head move, feel hands underneath them. They’re being...carried? Their head slumps and sways under bouncing steps (running?), and in the roaring sea-foam static, they see pieces of...something. Pixels swirling together in starts and stops, leaving afterimages of vague, unidentifiable shapes.
Their internal clocks count 190 seconds. Then, the swirl stops, and—
“If this is what kills you, I’m going to be furious.”
A rush of sounds all at once. Slowing footsteps. Rustling. Distant rain. That’s the first full sentence they can make sense of, too, and it hurts. V1 whirrs out a whine.
“V1?!” Gabriel startles. “V1.”
Quickly, they’re removed from the warmth of his body and set on something soft. A bed?
“Of course,” he murmurs, tone equal parts irritation and concern. “Of course you only answer to that.”
They groan again. Sounds are more-or-less coherent now, but they still hurt. What little they can even see hurts. Everything is too bright, from their own hands to the blown-out shape of Gabriel above them.
“I’m glad you’re alright.” Debatable. His form shifts next to them, sinking onto the bed, and touches their head. “Your eye is still...flickering. Can you see me?”
V1 tries to focus. They see Gabriel in stuttering pixels, slight afterimages moving and overlapping one another in a trail. Was their software shot? Were they going to get burn-in from this? Did an orgasm seriously blow their drivers? They squirm and turn away.
“...Not well, then. Damn it all. I’ve blinded you.” He curses under his breath. “I didn’t know that my wings could..."
V1’s head lulls against the mattress. Their legs shift—and suddenly, they remember. They’re still hard.
“And we’ve never...”
They didn’t cum yet. The buildup, all those stalled processes—maybe they’re STILL stalled.
“I’m so sorry. Can it be fi—"
V1 shoots upright and grabs their dick.
“Machine?”
Touching themselves alone sends a sharp jolt up their body. V1 braces themselves and starts stroking—furiously. “Overwhelming” is an understatement. Almost as bad as their other broken senses, every pull sends white-hot flashes behind their eyes. Their back arches at an unnatural angle as they kick the air. Then their foot hits something metal.
“Ghhk—!”
Gabriel’s afterimage flies off the bed.
It hurts. It burns. But the faster V1 jerks themselves off, the sooner this ends...maybe. Hopefully. They’ll try anything at this point. The machine thrashes, kicks, and eventually rolls on their chest, ass in the air, and keeps going.
“Really?” Gabriel’s voice comes close again, strained as if he’d been struck (weird). “This was your first thought? Mortals would tell you this is what causes blindness.” He grabs their ankle. Unthinkingly, V1 bucks, and their heel buries in something fleshy. His stomach?
They hear a gasp. Yeah, his stomach.
“Stubborn—thing.”
Hands seize their shoulders and pull them backward. Suddenly, they’re against him, back pressed to his chest. The hand on their cock is yanked away—and replaced with his own.
“I don’t know WHAT you think this solves, but...” His voice is strained yet firm as strokes them. “Calm yourself.”
He goes slow. TOO slow. V1 tries to thrash again, until Gabriel wraps a solid arm around their chest and holds them in place.
“I said CALM yourself.”
V1’s internal fans push to another groan. Finally, they still. Gabriel continues, setting a gentle pace. V1 didn’t realize it at first, but it doesn’t hurt. His touch is slow enough to keep further overstimulation at bay. Less efficient, but...better. They slump into his chest.
“That’s it,” he whispers. A far cry from the angel that rode them minutes ago. “Relax.”
V1 cranes their neck against him, and Gabriel pets their head. His pace makes it easier to manage the build-up, pleasure coming in easy waves instead of a car crash. And just before it becomes too much, they finally finish. Not a lot, and disappointingly weak, but by now they just wanted relief. They shudder feebly as they spill on Gabriel’s hand
“There...” The angel nuzzles into their neck, and they go limp. Slowly, their processes begin to reroute. Diagnostics kick in and analyze the damage. According to what little their sensors recorded when Gabriel came, that light wasn’t unlike what Virtues could do. It wasn’t unlike the light that heralded Gabriel’s entrance or exit when he teleported, either.
Just worse. V1 had front-row seats to a blast of a Supreme Angel’s divine light. Something that would likely boil human eyeballs. For a Supreme Machine, though, it was like pointing a camera at the sun and burning a hole in the aperture.
Something kicks in. A temporary fix. Overexposed shapes in the room correct slightly. Their vision darkens into a greenish tint. Still static, but manageable. They glance down to see themselves between Gabriel’s legs, his hand laid lax on their hip, and a mess of cum on their stomach.
V1 looks up. This is...a bedroom. Somewhere. Convenient that Gabriel was able to find a building intact around here. They see the mattress under them, and a dresser ahead. Everything else was vague green shapes in the shadows.
They look behind them. Gabriel is there...mostly. His helm is vague green static, visual information garbled in the dark, but they can make out the cross, the jut of his chin, and a rain-flecked window behind him.
Rain... It must have started after Gabriel carried them inside.
“Your eye isn’t flickering. Can you see me?”
They nod. Gabriel sighs, relieved, and caresses the underside of their head. His other hand thumbs their hip in soothing circles.
“Good. Did that...help?”
V1 pauses. They lift a hand and gesture with their thumb and forefinger. A little.
“I see.” He sounds dubious. They’d have to explain it sometime. “What else do you need?”
Internal diagnostics recommended a full reboot. It had been a while since their last reboot too—years. This would take a while. They explain it to Gabriel with a combination of sign and fingerspelling.
“A...reboot,” he repeats. “I assume you’ll need to stay here awhile?”
They nod.
“Very well. I’ll clean us and keep watch.”
He lifts V1 off his lap and onto the bed. They watch his naked body stand and straighten. Then he pauses next to the bed.
He takes their hand.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I have...quite literally, never had that happen to me before. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
V1 blinks.
“Are you angry?”
They think about it—then shrug. They gesture again: a LITTLE. Honestly, most of their annoyance had dissipated now.
Gabriel huffs. “Fair enough.” His hand slips away. “Rest now. I’ll be back.”
V1 watches Gabriel disappear around a corner. They lean back and start to mentally flick through programs they haven’t touched in ages. Finally, they find it. Reboot. The world goes dark, and they feel themselves shut down process by process.
By the time they wake from idle mode, it’s morning.
V1 lifts their head. Gabriel lies on his back next to them, motionless save for the slow swell of his chest, breathing with it in a steady rhythm. He must have fallen asleep.
It occurs, then, that they can see him properly. They even hear the rustle of sheets with perfect clarity as they roll on their side. A diagnostic synopsis scrolls the corner of their vision, reading optimal hardware and software health post-reboot. First one in a while, too.
They shift to lay on Gabriel’s shoulder, tucking themselves in the crevice between his broad arm and broader chest. The angel stirs.
“Mm—” He lifts his head to the ceiling, his own senses returning to him. “Good morning,” he says, voice heavy with sleep as he tilts toward V1. “How do you feel?”
‘Feel’ isn’t quite the word for it, but they nod anyway, flashing the angel a thumbs-up.
“Hmh. Good.” There’s a slight smile in his voice as V1 climbs onto his chest. Strong arms wrap around them. “Feared I might have blinded you permanently.”
They unfold their neck to lean their head against Gabriel’s, many hands loosely clinging to his chest. Gabriel traces their spine with slow, lazy hands of his own and sighs, content. For a while, they lay in silence.
“What happened last night...” he starts, awkward. “In all my millennia of existence, I never knew that that could happen. I wondered before why something made in God’s image could be tempted to sin at all. But if my body can do THAT...well. I have many more questions, now.” He snorts.
“Good sex, then,” V1 signs after a short silence.
Gabriel sputters a laugh. “Fine. Yes, it was.”
They make a fist and flick their fingers out, miming an explosion. “Literal.”
“That too.”
His fingers wander up their spine and come to their wing pack. Light fingers outline the base, the controllers, and V1 flicks their wings in response. He doesn’t push further, not looking to rile deep-rooted programming that made V1 reflexively defensive of where their weapons were stored. Instead, he lets his touch simply linger.
V1 responds by sliding their hand up his neck. They feel Gabriel reflexively tense—then relax, as the machine thumbs a feather-light touch around his bruised throat.
Still never quite sure how to fix the wounds they make.
“So. Are you still angry?”
There’s levity in the question, knowing V1’s answer last night wasn’t that serious. V1 shifts to meet his gaze, folding two hands under their chin. They tilt their head and let the silence linger, pretending to give it thought. Gabriel, unbothered, plays with an exposed fuel tube in their back—and V1 suddenly shivers when he inadvertently presses it.
Probably oversensitive, a side effect of the reboot. But...
It DOES give them an idea.
They pretend a bit longer. The beginning of a question dies on Gabriel’s lips when V1 grabs his shoulders and yanks him to the side. He rolls directly on top of them with a wordless sputter.
He lifts himself on his arms, and V1 grips his jaw.
“Apologize,” they sign.
Gabriel stares. “I thought I already did.”
V1 spreads their legs.
“Again,” they insist, pushing their hips into his to spell out what exactly they want him to apologize with. “Apologize.”
Gabriel doesn’t move. V1 blinks. They release their grip and touch the cheek of his helm, tilting their head in question. Whatever hesitance he had seems to pass, though, and the angel takes them by the waist.
Greedy hands paw each other. The foreplay is exactly what V1 hoped for. They’re sensitive, more than usual, every part of them so acutely aware. V1 touches the angel’s chest, squeezing a pec before fondling his firm stomach. Reveling in how he tenses in their touch. Delighting in a choked gasp when their third hand takes a handful of ass with a firm smack.
Gabriel’s own hands roam their plating. Dips deliciously into the gaps of metal. V1’s fans blow faster when his thick fingers push past their abdominal tubing, giving a startled screech as he explores. Their back arches at an unnatural angle, throwing several arms around his neck. It’s hard not to let every thought and subprocess surrender to the invading hand inside them. But just barely, they focus enough input a command. A panel opens just under their cock, and they press their twitching pussy into his hips.
He moans quietly. Their hand, urgent now, slips in between. He didn’t bother dressing, apparently, making it easy to find his cock. Gabriel gasps. The sound melts into a hiss as he bows into the machine’s neck. His hands relent in favor of V1’s, and he rocks into it in long, languid thrusts.
“I would have thought...that you would want to be on top after—a-after last night.”
“You do the work now,” they sign, emphasizing you.
Gabriel seems to hesitate. Again. His hands retract. He pulls himself up to kneel over V1 and dismisses his wings and halo. The divine light of both fades away in glowing flecks that dim the room.
“I won’t hurt you this time.”
He says it like a declaration. V1 blinks. “Why.”
“Why?” Gabriel scoffs. “What do you mean why?”
“Always hurt each other.”
“This is different.”
“How. Thought you liked it.”
The angel pauses. “...I do.”
“Never held back before,” V1 points out. Gabriel could be gentle, sure. V1 liked that they knew all of him, and not just what they saw in Hell. But they were both too passionate to promise anything. Lost themselves too easily in pain and bloodshed to say they’d never do it again.
“I know what we are,” he murmurs. “But last night... I thought maybe it was beyond repair. I don’t want that.”
Oh.
V1 pauses.
“Can’t break that easy,” they assure, taking his helm into their hands. “No wings. Everything else OK.”
Gabriel said so himself last night. They’re hard to kill. The angel shudders a quiet exhale against them. Just as he reaches out to take their hands, though, they fall back into the mattress.
“Owe me, too.”
Gabriel stares, his attempt at tenderness hovering where they’d pulled away. “Owe you what?”
“Better orgasm.”
They want him like last night. Not the demands—but the hunger. Making their point, they bring all four hands behind their head and cock it, as if to say: well?
Gabriel scoffs. There’s something blithe in the sound this time, assurance enough that they got through to him. He grabs the machine by the hips and drags them close.
“Fine,” he says, voice low and husky. “You’ll have it.”
He shoves himself between the machine’s legs. A hand slips down, fingers fumbling for their folds. He finds that little silicone nub above, just under their dick, and V1 jolts as he presses his thumb in. Was it the reboot? Or did Gabriel alone make them this responsive?
Fingers tease at V1’s folds a while. Five times they brush their entrance, too, circling it but not quite dipping in. V1’s chassis blows hotter. They squirm under him. If not for him persistently rubbing their clit, they’d take Gabriel’s wrist and force his fingers inside them.
When their arousal swells enough, Gabriel pulls away. His hips shift, and V1 looks down to see his hand, slick with their fluids, guiding himself between their folds. He pauses, tip pressed at the entrance for a maddening half-second, then pushes in. Gabriel chokes out a soft, strangled sound, and V1’s fans push to the closest thing they can give to a moan. Have they always been this tight? Has he always been this big?
He takes the machine by the thighs and hikes their legs over his shoulders. His broad form leans over them, fists balled on either side of V1’s head. He moans, husky and guttural, and V1’s head falls back against the bed as he starts to move.
He starts slow, working himself in until fully hilted. Then, V1 feels him buck hard, and their fans rattle as he picks up the pace. They shouldn’t be so caught off guard. Slow and gentle never last long with either of them. He fucks them in short, rapid snaps, leaning forward until their helms touch, until the only sound in V1’s audials is Gabriel’s breath and wet, heavy slaps. Their legs kick the air, and all four hands grab the bed in fistfuls.
Their first climax hits like a truck. Mostly because they don’t expect it so soon. V1’s frame shakes violently. The inner walls of their cunt clamp around Gabriel, who practically growls. “Already?” They barely hear him through orgasmic static in their head, yet he cuts through like a distant SOS. “I didn’t know you were that desperate for this.”
Yes. Yes.
When the roar fades, Gabriel is still fucking them. He moans between halted breaths, pace shifting to long, bucking thrusts. V1 bounces into them. The mattress moves with their copulations, headboard smacking the wall with dull, rhythmic thuds. They spasm against the onslaught. Overstimulation. Delicious sensation.
“Don’t tell me that’s the best you’ve got,” Gabriel taunts, breathless. He grabs their head and shoves it into the mattress, forcing them to stare at the headboard as the pounding continues.
V1 whines. They wrap their legs around his neck, urging him on. The Knuckleblaster reaches for him and blindly scores his arm. Pain seems to only spur Gabriel on. He stutters a moan, loud and debauched, and V1 feels his cock throb inside them. They arch to meet the pour of blood—until Gabriel stops.
“No.”
He pulls out. V1 feels his hands leave them, their legs dropping to the mattress like lead. Before they can think, Gabriel takes them by the hips and rolls them on their stomach. He lifts them by the ass—and quickly re-enters them.
V1 screeches as they’re relentlessly fucked. Again. This is exactly what they wanted. Skin smacking metal. Cunt swollen and overwhelmed. CPU temperature warnings in their vision. Fans rattling hot in their chassis. They manage the wherewithal to pull themselves up by the headboard, using it for leverage to push back into Gabriel’s thrusts.
Growling, he cups broad hands around their upper chassis as they bounce their ass onto his cock. A far cry from the weak climax from before.
Speaking of. Their second orgasm somehow hits even harder. Once again, all is static, moaning, and white-hot reward bursting between their legs. They vaguely hear his voice rising, rising, rising, until cum spills out of their used pussy.
“Machine... V1—!”
By then, though, V1 is already on the doorstep of just one more. And by the time they’re fully aware of themselves again, they’re lying on their side, already desperately rubbing their clit to completion. Gabriel, next to them now, lifts their legs, and two thick fingers push inside the cum-filled mess they both created.
No ceremony this time. Just clumsy, glorious fingerblasting until they cum one last time.
They’re fried. In a good way this time, though. Gabriel pulls his fingers out of them, muttering something breathless about the mess before he collapses, groaning. V1’s gaze fixes to the ceiling, basking in thrice the afterglow.
Eventually, Gabriel’s larger form rolls next to them. Still panting, still a mess himself. Despite it, he pulls them to his chest.
“And you...call me insatiable?”