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danjo-ao3 · 1 month ago

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sweep me off my feet

pairing: gabriel reyes x f!reader wc: 2k tags: NONCON, misogyny, 18+, dnd au, age gap, size difference notes: its been a while! but here we are, heed the tags and enjoy <3

After everything, all the fights you've endured and the adventures you've been on, it comes down to this—one particularly nasty, unusually powerful booyagh.

A group of them got the jump on you while you were bathing, of all things. You heard the echoes round the spring cave and had just enough time to don some kind of clothing and grab your sword before the goblins were upon you.

You took out a few of them with ease, using your agile tactics to practically dance circles around them, until your sword slashed their throats open.

It didn't matter in the end; you didn't have the stealth advantage you usually did, and they had the numbers. The booyagh was all that remained, and with its advantage it gets you weakened and then prone—climbing atop you and pressing its disgusting staff to your neck in an attempt to stop you breathing.

At the last moment, as your mind scrambles for any possible way to survive, a shadow falls over you.

You close your eyes, expecting a more permanent darkness to take hold, and yet you find yourself able to breathe once more. Your eyes fly open to see the goblin being hoisted away by a heavily armoured paladin, thrown to the ground, pinned with a boot, and then skewered with a blackened sword.

Uncertain and still afraid, you scramble to your feet, readying yourself to attack again with sword in hand.

You take in the appearance of the man before you. He's twice your size, his sword almost as big as you, with a bloodlust in his eyes and a tick in his jaw. And yet his hostility, or urge to attack, is directed your way.

He sheaths his sword and looks at you expectantly, glaring at you until you stand down.

You know that if he were to attack you, you'd probably be fucked—in way worse trouble than with the booyagh, which you totally would've overpowered if he didn't show up.

"I didn't need your help." You say, words a little snarled. Perhaps you should be more thankful for your savior, but there's something about the man that draws your ire just from the sight of him. Maybe it's the cocky arrogance he carries himself with, or his lack of social graces.

He snorts, a condescending sound which shows that you were right to distrust him. "Are you sure about that?"

"Absolutely." You confirm, before making your way over to the warrior and the dead goblin. The man is even more intimidating up close.

He towers over you and says nothing as you look upon the goblin corpse.

Unlike the goblin, the man is undeniably handsome, which is something you note with disdain. Even as he looks upon you like you're some sort of inconvenience in his day, his features are sharp and alluring, the kind people make monuments too.

If he were nicer, you wouldn't mind him sticking around. Perhaps you'd invite him to come bathe with you, but he's seemingly detestable, and doesn't deserve such a privilege.

You step away, confident the goblin is done for, as you head back down the slope of the cave. "Can you leave so I can finish bathing in peace?"

"Ah, that's why you're dressed like... that." Again, he says it with an infuriating sense of arrogance.

You cross your arms over your chest defensively, feeling the way your undergarments mould to your soaking skin. "I'm not in the habit of fighting goblins half-naked."

Surely he didn't need you to explain why you were in such a state of disrobement. After all, he had eyes and could surely make the connection between your damp state and the nearby spring—but perhaps he's all brawn and no brains.

Once more, you turn away, ready to return to the cool, relaxing water and to forget about this whole encounter.

You assume he will simply leave, head back out the cave now he's aware there are no more monsters inside or treasure to be found. You assume incorrectly.

"You shouldn't be in the habit of fighting them at all." He calls out, his words bouncing round the cave as the taunt echoes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" You snap back in an instant.

Strangers, men, doubting you is nothing new, but you've proven yourself time and time again. Does this ass seem to think that because he caught you in a vulnerable moment that you're not up to the task?

"Why are you out here alone?" He asks plainly.

"Why are you?"

"I think that's pretty clear." He scoffs, as if it's an insult to his intelligence to even answer such a question.

"Saving people, fighting evil?" You ask, he nods. "Yes, me too."

Finally, his expression changes from one of disdain to amusement. " Ha ."

"What's so funny?"

"You're a girl."

"And you're a pig, apparently."

"Just realistic, sweetheart." He shrugs as he makes his way over to approach you once more. "I've seen mephits bigger than you."

"And yet none better with a blade, I'd bet."

"You call that a blade?" His eyes glance down to my trusty sword, squinting for effect. "Let's see what you've got, little maiden."

He doesn't bother to unsheathe his greatsword, instead beckoning me forward with his steel-covered hands.

"No spells?" You ask, knowing his god has likely bestowed upon him powers you couldn't match.

"On my honor."

"Bring it on." You smirk, as you ready your sword and begin to circle him. You can't believe he's so cocky, so certain, that he'd forgo his blade and think he still stood a chance. You had been fortunate enough to learn from the best swordsman in your land, and you were going to make sure he knew it.

For every step forward he takes, you take one back, the two of you entering a dance as you assess his movements, the weaknesses of his armor.

No helmet was his first mistake, although seeing his handsome visage disguised by metal would surely be a shame. Unfortunately, his height means that swiping for his face won't be an easy feat.

His joints are exposed, an easy spot to attack if you can only get close enough. You move in, ducking under his grasp and slashing, hitting his armor as he turns. He moves to grab you, but you roll away, putting space between the two of you before you can make a move once more.

You intend to be quicker, more nimble, and get the upper hand that way, and yet as you charge once more...

He simply catches your sword mid swing, the sharpness doing nothing against his grasp as he disarms you with ease.

Now without a weapon, you resort to escape tactics, but he has you grabbed before you can even make a move to escape.

His hold is strong, unrelenting, as an arm curls around your neck and pulls you against his hard body. He doesn't squeeze; he doesn't need to for you to know you lost.

Struggle as you might, there's no freeing yourself from his grasp.

"Spry, I'll concede that." He whispers, voice low in your ear and causing you to shiver in ways you most certainly shouldn't. "Now what?"

You relent, tapping his arm in surrender.

"You win, almighty paladin, congratulations. I'm sure your arrogance can't grow much more, however."

"Perhaps."

For a moment all is silent, no words spoken. The only sound is the faint drip-drip of water off stalactites into the spring.

You wait for him to relinquish you from his hold, or to say something, but he doesn't. Your struggle to be let free continues as you attempt to wiggle out once more.

"Will you let me be on my way now?"

"No. You still seem full of resolve."

It's your turn to scoff. "I'm hardly going to take one lost duel and a strange man's opinion to heart, forgive me."

"You should. You don't belong out here in the wilds, girl."

The term infuriates you, sending bile rising up your throat as your viciousness comes to the forefront.

"Fuck you." You snarl instinctually, without a second thought.

The man simply chuckles, his other arm snaking down your form and grasping at your curves.

"What are you doing?" You shriek, and yet his assault doesn't stop.

An armoured hand grips at your tits with no remorse, freeing them from the cloth and enjoying them as playthings. His other arm tightens, and he straightens his posture, making you dangle in his hold, your feet inches from the ground, neck choked and resistance draining.

"You're supposed to protect people, not—"

"Impero tibi." Your words are cut off by his incantation, his command .

Your body goes limp, unable to resist the magic now swirling in your brain and controlling your limbs. Despite your inability to squirm, your mind still screams in protest as his hand explores lower—two rough, protected fingers forcing their way between your lower lips.

"I am protecting you. I'm teaching you a lesson before some horny bugbear does." He grunts, supporting your weight as he rubs at your clit. "I'll be much gentler, and you'll still have your life after."

Your stomach twists, both with anger and a building arousal you can't fight off. Your body betrays you, craving more of the unfamiliar, pleasurable touch as your cunt gushes.

"I have bigger worries than... the misplaced sexual appetites of monsters... who I doubt I'm of much interest to, anyway." You speak back through gritted teeth, the words taking great physical effort just to say.

Your spirit isn't diminished, and your fate might be sealed, to be violated at this man's hand, but that doesn't stop you from voicing your thoughts. After all, he just admitted no intent to harm you, as long as you let it happen.

"Any man or monster that has eyes wants to fuck you. Again, that's why you shouldn't be out here. Should be at home, belly swollen, ready to fuck your man after he does the fighting."

"Your fantasy isn't everyone else's, not every woman—"

"Shhh." He curls over you, forcing his lips onto yours and his tongue into your mouth. "It's not a fantasy, it's reality. I'll prove it to you when I fill that sweet cunt with my seed and leave you with a growing babe."

His words are grotesque, degrading and horrifying and yet they send thrills through you—electrical pulses radiate out from your clit that would make you surrender, even if he didn't have command of your body.

"You'd breed me like some mare and send me out on my adventures?" You cry out. A chauvinist man with a desire for a housewife to breed is unsurprising, but what kind of man would breed a woman he believes incapable, just to send her off into the wilds?

He chuckles, like he's in on a joke you're not, like he understands something you never will. "You won't want adventures when I'm through with you."

Then, he throws you to the ground, and at least ceases his command so you can cushion your fall.

You lay among the dirt, tits bared and cunt exposed—he stares at the glistening apex between your legs, until he makes it obvious to you that he can see your body's betrayal.

"Clearly you're already coming over to my way of thinking."

"You wish." You spit, yet you know your resistance is fading. Despite your mental barrier, your body does want this, your instincts accept it. Instead of scrambling for safety, attempting to fight once more, you lay frozen and vulnerable, watching as he frees himself of his greaves and his garments.

Then he kneels behind you in the dirt, takes a fistful of your hair with one hand, and a fistful of his large, aching cock with the other. "You're soaked just from being manhandled and put in your place. Are you like this after every fight, you little whore?"

"No!"

You almost scream as he forces himself inside, despite your leaking hole offering little resistance. He's bigger than any you've taken before, and with no preparation, he stretches you, molds you to his size.

His heavy frame pins yours to the ground as he thrusts in, not stopping until he's fully sheathed. "Just me. Lucky I found you."

"Fuck. You." Your voice is a growl, yet your body surrenders to his touch, your muscles giving out as your place becomes clear, and you begin to enjoy defeat.

"I am fucking you, little maiden." He laughs, as he begins to rut into you. "And you're enjoying it."

#read later #gabriel reyes x reader

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