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When Dick woke up this morning, this was not the kind of day he imagined.
He didn't anticipate getting stranded on a tropical alien planet, for one thing, nor did he envision Slade Wilson becoming his only option for rescue. The only thing he has to trade is an open-ended favor, and Dick has no illusions about what Slade wants from him. He's the devil Dick knows, at least, and he has a ship. Dick's communication system got fried in the crash, leaving him with no way to call the JL for help while he slowly sweats to death on the surface of a planet that's so humid it feels like he's walking through hot soup.
Dick jury-rigged a short-range distress call using his personal comm, hoping Slade was still in the system after they clashed on the space station during Dick's ill-fated mission, and sure enough, Slade turned up a few hours later, cutting through dense foliage with a machete and a smug grin.
"Grab my zipper, would you?" Dick asks, turning his back to Slade.
They've been walking for twenty minutes, and according to Slade, they're still a good couple of miles from where he put down his ship. Dick can't stay wrapped in head to toe Nomex for a second longer.
"Can't you reach it yourself?" Slade drawls, but he does as requested, uncovering the hidden zipper and the nape of Dick's neck and tugging it down the length of his spine.
"Of course I can," Dick says, shooting Slade a coy look over his shoulder. "I just thought you'd enjoy doing it for me." He wriggles out of the upper half of his suit, groaning as he bares his torso to the thick air, tying off the sleeves around his waist.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Slade raises an eyebrow. "You have no idea what kind of creatures are lurking in this brush. The less skin you have exposed, the better." Despite the chiding, Slade's gaze travels appreciatively down Dick's shoulders and chest.
"It's hot," Dick says flatly. "Either a parasite kills me, or heatstroke does. If you see something crawling on me, I give you permission to hack it off."
Slade grunts. "It's your funeral, little bird."
"Call me little bird again before we're in a temperature-controlled environment, and I'll cut your balls off with that machete," Dick snaps.
With a theatrical flourish of the blade, Slade pushes forward into the foliage.
All around them, the forest is alive with rustling and chittering and chirping. Slade's probably right. With Dick's luck, a giant beetle or a spider the size of his hand will drop from the canopy and attach itself to Dick's face. He follows in Slade's wake as he cuts through the hanging vines and tangled branches, keeping his arms up to shield his face. At least he kept his gloves on to protect his forearms.
Because he doesn't have his own machete, Dick is relying on Slade to lead and can't exactly watch where he's going or putting his feet. "Didn't you already cut a path to get to me?" Dick grits out. "How is this forest so dense?"
Another grunt from Slade. "Whatever path I made has already been swallowed by what I would categorize as.... abnormal growth."
Dick opens his mouth to reply, but a thick vine tightens around his ankle and yanks him right off his feet, sending him face-first into the underbrush with a strangled cry. He catches himself on his elbows, jarring his teeth, and then groans, embarrassed that he tripped. He's about to pull himself onto his knee when another vine wraps itself around his other ankle and pulls him backwards.
"Slade!" Dick yelps, scrambling at the thick foliage. He briefly loses track of which way is up, manipulated by strong pressure as more vines curl around his wrists and pull his arms behind his back. Dick struggles fruitlessly, hauled up into the air by four points on his wrists and ankles. Wide-eyed, Dick looks down at himself as more vines slither out of nowhere to wrap up his thighs and biceps. He's being bound, the vines deftly bending his elbows and knees to fold up his arms and legs from wrist to shoulder and ankle to thigh.
"A little help?" Dick cries, when he realizes Slade is just standing there a few feet away, the machete casually resting on his shoulder as he watches Dick get strung up by sentient plant life.
"We should find out what they want before I go in guns blazing," Slade says dryly.
"What they want?" shouts Dick. "They're attacking me!"
"Are they hurting you?" Slade asks, watching with interest as Dick is tipped forward to hang parallel to the ground.
"Are they hurting—" Dick sputters, staring helplessly at Slade as he sits down on a conveniently placed stump, setting down the machete and leaning casually against another tree. "Do you see what's happening right now? You have a knife!"
"Grayson, are you actually advocating for the wholesale slaughter of a previously-unknown species of sentient plant life?" A fucking smile tugs at the corner of Slade's mouth. He is clearly getting comfortable, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his feet up.
"If I survive this, I'm going to kill known sentient life with my bare hands, you fucking—"
Dick is distracted from the elaborate revenge plot cooking inside his brain when more vines slither across his torso, following the line of his body; each narrow tip slips under the bunched fabric of his open costume, gathering in groups of twos and threes to shove down each pant leg, squeezing in between his skin and the lining of his costume until the whole thing simply rips to shreds. "Oh my god," Dick gasps. "Slade, I mean it, you have to do something!"
Slade straightens up from his insouciant slouch and starts rooting around in one of the compartments on his belt. "If only you hadn't removed the suit that contains your blockers."
"Blockers? What are you talking about? What do my pheromones have to do with sentient alien plants?"
Slade gestures at himself. "You don't see them bothering me, do you?"
And while that is an excellent point, Dick is not in the mood for constructive criticism. "Slade, please," he croaks. The vines spread his legs wider, and Dick begins to worry that maybe Slade is right. That this—this thing is specifically responding to his physiology. "Don't just sit there! Did you really—did you really come all the way down to this planet just to let me d—"
Dick can't actually finish his question; while he's distracted watching Slade get a fucking cigar out, another tendril topped off with a fat bud weaves its way through the air and slips right between his lips, choking off any other words. Mouth suddenly full, Dick panics, shaking his head hard. He tries to clamp down on the intrusion, but it's too mobile, too strong, and his teeth don't even penetrate the exterior. It just shoves deeper, almost triggering Dick's gag reflex, and then—and then something thick and syrupy-sweet begins to pour out.
Horrified, Dick tries not to swallow, some of the liquid dribbling out the sides of his mouth, but there's just too much of it. Dick's options are swallow or drown, and his self-preservation instinct kicks in, overriding everything else.
Before he knows it, Dick is gulping down the warm, sticky fluid as it floods his throat.
Dick's head is spinning. It could be the tightly restricted flow of oxygen, or maybe the nectar itself. It doesn't exactly matter, either way; Dick can't think, and he can't move, either. The strength and dexterity of the vines is incredible, and no matter how he wriggles and squirms, the plants just move with him, keeping Dick in exactly the position they want him to be in.
His own pounding heartbeat is loud in his ears, but he still hears Slade drawl, "Guess not even a plant without ears wants to listen to you whine and complain."
Dick wants to scream, but his mouth is full. He can only gurgle pathetically, before—
Unbearable heat begins to set in. Dick's skin is prickling all over, as strange, awful desire burns through his veins.
Oh, god. Oh, god.
It's the familiar fever of a heat cycle, but it's coming on far too fast. Even a chemically-induced heat normally takes half a day to set in, but with the syrupy nectar pouring down his throat and filling up his stomach, Dick already feels like he's well into the first or second day, skipping straight over preheat to careen headlong into the mindless need of a full-blown cycle.
Hormones flood his body, and Dick's head fills quickly with fuzzy cotton, softening his panic and fear. He hasn't quite stopped struggling yet, but every jerk or twitch of his bound limbs just encourages more vines to wrap around his hips and shoulders until he's fully suspended in a cradle of plant life, panting raggedly through his nose. He shudders as another rush of nectar floods his throat, heated arousal gathering in the base of his gut and pooling between his legs.
His spread legs, thighs straining as the vines expose his throbbing cunt to the warm jungle air.
"I told you so," Slade says smugly. "I can smell it. That's the fastest I've ever seen an omega's heat set in. Whatever it's giving you is fast-acting. I should take a sample."
Dick whimpers around the thick bud plugging up his mouth, blinking tears and sweat out of his eyes as the vines begin to push up between his ass cheeks, prodding at his hole.
"Nuh uh," Dick begs, trying to shake his head, but the vines aren't exactly interested in listening to him. Upon encountering resistance, the vine coiling up against the tight pucker of his hole just self-lubricates with that same warm, thick liquid that's filling Dick's stomach and pushes harder, penetrating him in one long, smooth thrust. With a muffled squeal, Dick shudders and bucks his hips forward, only for another vine that's even thicker than the one fucking his asshole to slither up between the folds of his pussy.
With the unnatural heat ripping through him, Dick's so wet he must be dripping down into the underbrush. The vine slips inside him easily, long and thick, and Dick is abruptly filled in both holes, steady pressure as the smooth, slick vines eagerly explore inside him.
Only the tiniest part of Dick's brain can hang on to the horror he should be feeling as he's forcibly violated by sentient plants. The rest of him is too horny to care, moaning thickly around the gag, his eyes rolling back. The pressure—the girth—of the vines is exactly what his needy body wants, and within the snug confines of his restraints, Dick's hips rock in tight circles.
"Feel good, Grayson?" Slade chuckles. "You seem to be enjoying yourself now. Is it just a heat inducer, or an aphrodisiac? Both, by the looks of it."
Dick squints at Slade, barely able to understand that he's being mocked. Another vine is busy pushing into his cunt alongside the first, and they are braiding themselves together inside him to form a thicker intrusion as they delve deeper. When the makeshift cock's blunt pressure angles up and brushes against Dick's g-spot, he chokes on a muffled scream and comes, body clenching up tight and shuddering through an overwhelmingly intense orgasm as he squirts around the vines fucking him, gushing out a flood of slick.
The vines inside and around him all go completely still, as if surprised by Dick's reaction. For one wild second, Dick wonders if that's it. If it's over.
He hangs there breathing heavily, still speared open, as he blinks owlishly at Slade's curious face.
Then the vines begin to squirm, pulsating, almost like muscle spasms rippling down the length of each one, and they push deeper, seemingly intent on filling up every empty space inside him. When the blunt head of the vines twisted up inside his cunt knock right against his cervix, Dick seizes up, moaning, as a dull ache throbs in his lower abdomen.
"Isn't that a pretty sight," says Slade, and as Dick blinks, vision swimming, Slade exhales a long stream of smoke. "Do you like it when it hurts, little bird? You should have told me..."
Dick can only whimper, his heat surging wildly as yet another vine pushes into his spasming cunt, twisting around the other two. It's—it's smaller, maybe. Narrow and flexible, but just as strong, squirming its way deeper. The thick column inside of him draws back, that horrible, perfect pressure easing against his cervix. It seems to almost—roll within him, and then it starts to thrust almost experimentally, right up against Dick's g-spot. Overwhelmed, Dick sobs, body shaking as he's driven mercilessly into another orgasm.
At the same time, that small, narrow vine finds its target, pressing against his cervix again. It's an indescribable kind of sensation—pain, yes, but pleasure, too, a full-bodied shiver running through him as something primal switches on in his brain. Dick's eyes roll back as he sucks hungrily on the bud in his mouth, cunt and ass clenching up tight around the vines inside.
It keeps happening, again and again, fucked soundly by the thicker vines while the smaller one keeps pushing and squirming, until he can feel himself opening up. With a hoarse scream, Dick comes again, body helplessly squirting out slick. The vines fuck him straight through his orgasm, and then—
Another vine pushes inside. This one feels—Dick knows that it feels different. By this point, his body is burning up, flooded by scorching need. Pain lances through his belly, but Dick's body wants it, needs more. His back arches on instinct, barely able to move, but still trying desperately to coax it deeper.
"If I knew you looked like this while being bred, little bird, I would have done it myself a long time ago."
Dick doesn't know where the voice is coming from, or who it belongs to—all his attention is focused on that last vine. It's expanding and contracting in rhythmic waves, almost as if it's preparing to push something inside him.
"Mmmpgh," Dick pleads, drooling around the bud gagging his mouth.
He doesn't understand what's happening, but he knows that he wants whatever it's ready to give him. There's a hollow ache inside Dick, his physiology expecting and demanding a knot, and despite how thoroughly he's being stretched open and filled, it's still not enough.
Before despair can set it, something firm and round, roughly the size of a clenched fist, travels down the vine that's tucked up against the relaxed opening of his cervix. The object applies pressure to his entrance as it passes through the plant and into his body; it mimics the stretch of a knot only briefly, Dick's walls rippling as tears gather in his eyes. The object, whatever it is, doesn't stop, popping past Dick's dilated cervix to settle heavily into his womb.
Oh, god. Dick sucks in a gasping breath, chest heaving. Oh, god, oh god, oh god, is it—is it actually breeding him? Seeding him?
Each ragged breath pulls a whimper from Dick's sticky throat. He doesn't even have the chance to recover before another object follows the same path, pumped through his vagina along the vine's length to join the first.
The nectar which kicked Dick headlong into heat and just dilated his cervix to allow his body to be impregnated with egg-seeds also relaxes all the muscles in his lower body; there's little to no resistance now as the vine in his ass keep lazily fucking him while the other vines hold him open to receive the clutch of seeds. Dick slumps, straining against the vines to peer down the length of his own body.
Another seed settles heavily into his gut, and Dick blinks dazedly at the visible swell in his belly.
"Fuck me," a low voice rumbles nearby. "Would you look at that."
Dick whines, trembling. He's throbbing between his legs, so swollen and hot, slick dripping out of him from around the thick vines stuffing his cunt. For what feels like one interminable, drawn-out orgasm, Dick dizzily watches his normally taut, flat belly bulge with each deposit of a seed, rounding out into a tight, smooth curve. It's heavy pressure weighing him down, body somehow expanding with the physical demands being placed on him, taking the seeds one by one.
A rough chuckle. "Hopefully it knows when to stop, hm, little bird?"
The discomfort in Dick's lower body increases with each additional seed stuffed inside him; with his body held almost parallel to the ground, he's fighting gravity, the weight of his distended belly drawing tears to his eyes, but as Dick begins to cry and squirm, more vines slither up to support him, patting almost comfortingly at the heavy curve of his belly.
Dick's never been pregnant before, but he can't imagine it feeling much different than this. By the time the plant slows down, evidently finished seeding him, Dick can't see past his own belly anymore.
As he pants through another rolling orgasm, the vines begin to retract, withdrawing from his sore, swollen holes. The vine in his ass leaves completely, but as the thick trunk of twisted vines pull free of his dripping pussy, they return to stuff a bud back inside his aching cunt, ensuring the seeds remain plugged inside him.
Then it blooms, the petals not remotely delicate, but firm and filling, pressing up just right, finally letting him lock around something his body processes as an alpha's knot. Dick sobs, coming again as he's gently lowered to the jungle floor, curling onto his side as the last of the vines leave him. The leaves around him rustle as they depart, and Dick pants in dizzying satisfaction.
Dick isn't exactly—aware of what's happening around him. He's too focused on the way his cunt is spasming around the bud stuffing it full, and can't be blamed for his lack of situational awareness, or the fact that Slade Wilson has never seen an opportunity he didn't take advantage of. Warm hands drag him up, lifting him off the ground. Dick whimpers again, leaning into the proprietary touches, his body hot and sensitive. The sudden, strong scent of alpha fills his nose, and Dick's mouth waters as he moans.
"That's right," Slade murmurs. "Your pretty little pussy might be occupied, but you've got another hole for me to use, don't you?" He easily manhandles Dick onto his lap, cock already out, and lowers Dick right down to take Slade up his ass with no resistance. "That creature did a fine job getting you ready. As much as I'd love to be the one to breed you, little bird, I have to admit the show was nearly worth the sacrifice."
Tears track down Dick's cheeks, Slade's cock filling him up with a deep stretch, but he clings needily, resting his head against Slade's shoulder and tucking nose against the open collar of his uniform. Dick would call him a hypocrite for removing his own blockers, but then again, somehow Dick doubts that creature has any interest in alphas.
Every roll of Slade's cock inside of him jostles the thick bud plugging his cunt, applying pressure to his g-spot and cervix. Pleasure and pain zip through Dick's body in teasing licks, and all Dick can do now is cry softly and just take it.
"That's it, that's a good boy," Slade praises, using him roughly, his hands heavy on Dick's waist. "So eager for all your holes to be stuffed full, aren't you? Maybe we'll make this an annual vacation. We can return to this planet just to watch you get fucked and filled. How long do you think its seeds will grow inside of you? Are you going to get nice and big before you push them all out again?" Slade laughs, a possessive hand spreading over Dick's rounded belly, pressing hard enough to make something jolt through Dick,
"Sl—Slade, 'm—pl—" Dick is slurring his words. He can't get his tongue to work right.
"You're just a sweet little omega slut," Slade says darkly, lips brushing the shell of Dick's ear. "You're only good for one thing. I'd be doing the JL a favor if I take you permanently off their hands."
"N—no, Sl...Slade, st—" Dick chokes on his plea as Slade's arm tighten around him, pinning him in place on Slade's broad lap as he fucks up into him. Slade's strong, much stronger than Dick even when he isn't weak-limbed from a forced heat and god knows what else coursing through his system, and Dick is helpless against his firm grip, bouncing mindlessly in Slade's lap.
He's so aroused that he's drooling, every thrust of Slade's cock applying just enough pressure through the trembling wall of muscle between his asshole and his vagina to send shockwaves of growing pleasure into Dick's stuffed cunt. He doesn't actually know if he's even once stopped coming since the moment the heat set in.
"That's it," Slade praises, hips rolling with ruthless precision. He cradles the back of Dick's head in one hand, tucking his face more forcefully into Slade's throat, and as Slade's arousal grows, his scent sharpens, thickening in Dick's nose as he gulps in deep breaths.
"Nn—gh, fuck." Dick moans, panting open-mouthed, drowning in Slade's strong scent. He clenches up around Slade's cock, holes fluttering helplessly, slick trickling out around the plug in his cunt.
"Poor little thing," Slade rumbles, releasing Dick's hip to press his other hand under the curve of Dick's swollen belly, fingers seeking out Dick's clit. Without Slade's hands on his hips, Dick clutches at his shoulders for support as another blinding cascade of pleasure floods Dick's overstimulated body.
"Ah—ah, fuck, Slade, please," Dick sobs, crying openly. He's so close. Slade's fingers circle his throbbing clit, pinching and tugging, until Dick finally wails, body seizing up as another painful orgasm rolls through him like thunder.
"Good boy," Slade says, nuzzling Dick's sweaty hair. "That's it, good boy, good omega—" He fucks up hard into Dick's body as he blows his knot, locking in deep as he spills into Dick's sore asshole.
For a moment, they both slump, even Slade breathing heavily with exertion in the hot, humid air, the sounds of the jungle surrounding them in a nest of foliage.
Then Slade shifts and stands, hauling Dick up into his arms and forcing Dick to wrap his arms and legs around Slade's neck and waist in dizzy panic as he squeaks out an embarrassing protest.
"Wh—what are you doing?" Dick groans, clinging weakly to Slade as gravity pulls him down onto Slade's knot. With the heavy swell of his belly pressed tightly between them, Dick feels heat pooling in his cheeks as he is forced to remember that he has, in fact, been stuffed with countless seeds, while some kind of organic plug keeps him sealed up.
"Taking you back to the ship," Slade rumbles, starting to walk like he isn't tied to Dick right now.
"I can't believe this," Dick mumbles, briefly shutting his eyes. "I can't believe this."
What Dick really can't believe is that in mere moments, they emerge from the dense jungle into a clearing. He turns his head, blinking at the gleaming ship parked barely forty feet from where Dick was assaulted by sentient plant life.
"It was right here," Dick says numbly. He pounds a weak fist into Slade's shoulder. "It was right here!"
"It seemed prudent to allow the alien creature to finish what it was doing, first. I couldn't risk alerting it to the location of the ship," Slade says reasonably, not at all like a man with an omega's ass locked tight around his knot. Dick feels insane. "I didn't want to jeopardize our only means of leaving the planet."
Ambling up the loading ramp, Slade disengages the locks and walks inside. The door automatically closes behind them, and Slade sits down on the nearest available surface, holding Dick close, scenting him as the ship's atmospheric controls steadily cool them off. Dick trembles in his arms, still dazed and knot-drunk. Unlike a regular alpha knot, which eventually goes down, the bud locked in his vagina isn't softening—hasn't softened at all since it bloomed inside of him—and so his body keeps producing all the happy hormones associated with being on a knot.
Slade's knot is going down, though. When he's soft enough, Slade lifts Dick off, carrying him deeper into the ship, through a set of airlock doors and into a small room. Slade dumps him onto a cramped cot, saturated in Slade's scent, and Dick groans, rolling in the soft bedding, naked and relaxed, shoving his face into Slade's pillow.
Through the hormonal haze, Dick registers that Slade is laughing at him, but Dick doesn't care anymore.
He's safe, in his alpha's den, and he finally drifts asleep.
*
When Dick startles awake, it's to a ripple of—of movement inside of him.
He gasps, hands flying to his stomach. Somehow, it feels even bigger than before, stretched and taut. "Oh, god," he moans, shivering through a wave of full-body pleasure.
"I was wondering when you'd wake up," Slade murmurs, his voice nearby making Dick jump. "Ran some tests on that little gift you got. Should be just about ready to come out...."
"Wh—now? Already?" Dick blinks at Slade, feeling sluggish and heavy. His cunt is throbbing around the plug with renewed arousal, but the seal doesn't feel quite as tight as it did before. "How long—"
"About six hours," Slade murmurs. He's sitting on the edge of the cot, and Dick can tell that he's showered and changed in the interim. Meanwhile, Dick is still sticky with dried sweat and slick, and covered in that syrupy fluid, his scent having permeated the sterile, filtered air of the room. "Once we left the planet, the cycle seemed to accelerate with each passing hour. Viability might be linked with proximity to the atmosphere."
"Fascinating," Dick groans, clutching at his belly as another contraction cascades through his body. "Slade—"
"Calm down," Slade barks, taking Dick by the arm and pulling it up towards the head of the cot. Something soft but firm closes around his wrist. Slade repeats the action with Dick's other hand, and Dick blinks up at the ceiling, stunned to realize Slade just cuffed him when he tugs reflexively and can't bring his arms back down. "Can't have you squirming around," Slade says evenly, spreading Dick's legs and folding up his knees.
Rendered helpless, Dick swallows a sob, eyes swimming. Slade's icy blue eye is fixed on the space between Dick's thighs, which Dick can't even see right now beyond the heavy swell of his belly. "Slade, please, untie me, I—"
The bud in his cunt suddenly withers, and Dick lets out a startled moan at the abrupt loss. Knots go down a lot more slowly, and the shock to his body overwhelms him with the urge to cry. Before he has time to get too upset, though, his whole body is gripped by a much stronger contraction. The pressure in his belly has intensified far beyond comfort, and Dick gazes down the slope of his chest to where his swollen belly rounds out into a taut bulge, mesmerized by the shift of the seeds beneath skin, fat, and muscle.
"Not quite the real thing, is it?" Slade murmurs, watching Dick's face hungrily. "Don't worry, kid. Now that I know how well you take it, I'll be breeding this needy cunt properly."
The rush of arousal that floods between Dick's legs has his eyes rolling back, and his whole body locks up and pushes, another contraction rolling through him. The seeds feel even better coming out than they did going in; if Dick thought the seeding process felt like a prolonged orgasm, it's got nothing on the pleasure that grips him now.
Once the process gets going, it just doesn't stop—Dick comes so hard he squirts, gushing out slick, the pleasure so overwhelming he practically whites out with each seed he pushes out. Dick only blinks back to awareness when it's over, chest heaving, the pressure in his belly having eased.
The bulge isn't completely gone, but Dick can actually see past it again to the slick mess he's made on the cot, body gleaming with sweat as he pants raggedly in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm he's ever experienced.
"Congratulations," Slade says dryly, "It's a plant."
Dick kicks out with his leg, knees like jelly, only for Slade to catch him easily by the ankle.
"We are never talking about this again," Dick says breathlessly, jerking his wrists against the cuffs. "Can you please uncuff me now?"
Slade's gaze sharpens, and the predatory expression that creeps over his face sends a jolt of raw fear down Dick's spine. "You still owe me a favor for the rescue, little bird."
Dick stares at him, mouth slack. Despite the temperature control and cool air flow, Dick is still hot, skin prickling as all the hair rises on his body. Dread pools in the pit of his belly, as he finally realizes that even though the plant's breeding cycle progressed more quickly than would likely be natural, the heat that it induced in him is far from over.
"You already—you already took advantage of that," Dick says weakly, licking his lips. He's starting to breathe more heavily again, a flush creeping down his chest.
"I'll need a little more from you before we're square, kid," Slade drawls, his hand heavy on Dick's hip. "Time to pay up."
Dick bites back a miserable animal whine, arousal burning beneath his skin. "This isn't—we're not—there will be no more breeding."
Slade's mouth curves into a nasty grin. "We'll see."