Author: eeyore9990
Title: Dryad
Pairing: Bill/Dryad, and not really surprising surprise pairing
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Enticements: plant!bondage, plant!smut, nipple play, anal, outdoor sex
Theme: Bondage (and love!)
Summary: If Bill falls in the forest, and there's only a dryad there to see him, does anyone hear him moan?
Word Count: 2435
Disclaimer: Nothing you see here belongs to me!
A/N: Inspired by the absolutely fabulous art by artisticentropy, which can be found here. I know my fic can't compare to her beautiful artistry, but I was moved to write fic in tribute. Erm, surprise? :D

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Bill stumbled through the forest, frowning and cursing as his boots sank into the muddy forest floor. He fought off a sense of déjà vu as he pulled his feet from the muck and continued on. Looking up, he tried to find a landmark to determine where he was, but all the trees around him looked like every other tree, and a low fog was stirring in the distance… the same fog that had been stirring in the distance for the entirety of the time he'd been in this damned forest.

He sighed and stopped, pushing his hair off his damp forehead as he leaned against a tree. Closing his eyes, he centred himself, slowing his breaths as he stretched his other senses, straining to hear something that would give him a direction in which to walk. After a few moments, he blew out a frustrated breath, eyes opening only to narrow in confused disturbance. There was nothing. No birds calling one another, no rustle of small animals darting about under the foliage, no trickle of water, no wind through the trees even. No sound came from the forest at all.

A chill ran down his spine and the hair rose on the nape of his neck. He spun, forgetting for the moment the way his feet kept sinking into the mire. With a harsh cry, he pinwheeled his arms as he lost his balance and landed on his arse in the mud. Cursing again, he reached for a low branch on the tree he'd been leaning against to help pull himself to his feet once more. As he pulled against it, however, the fragile green branch peeled back from the trunk of the tree and a high-pitched cry rang out in the forest.

Oh, fuck.

Again, Bill had the sense that he'd been here before, done this very thing a hundred times over, and the unease that ran through him was tinged with anticipation. He released the branch, knowing to continue pulling on it would not help his situation as it was obviously not sturdy enough to support his weight. Instead, he rolled to the side until he could push himself to his hands and knees, levering himself to his feet that way.

Looking down, he wrinkled his nose to see his favourite pair of denims coated with slimy mud and his boots completely sunk into the forest floor. Sighing in disgust, he realised it was useless attempting to go further. Bracing himself against the tree he'd so recently damaged, he rolled his eyes to the heavens and shook his head before calling out, quietly, "Help!"

A small movement from a larger tree just out of his reach drew his attention before a shadow darting through the forest caught his notice out of the corner of his eye. His head swung back and forth, trying to catch sight of whatever it was that seemed to be surrounding him. Trying to turn around to see if anything was behind him, a tree root hooked behind his caught foot, dumping him back on his arse.

It was as if the forest was sentient, as if the very trees and earth were attempting to hold him hostage. He clenched his teeth and shook his hair back from his face, wishing he'd thought to bring a tie back with him. He dropped his head back onto his shoulders, looking up into the weak light that shone through the tops of the trees. As his hands sank into the mud, it felt almost as if something was swirling around his wrists. Frowning, he attempted to pull his hands free, only to find himself stuck.

Feeling eyes on him, he snapped his head to the side in time to see a… What the hell was it? Before he could identify it, it darted behind a tree again.

"Come out. Please! I… I seem to be stuck and I could really use your assistance."

The quiet forest offered no response.

"Please?" he asked, softening his voice. Whatever it was appeared to be frightened of discovery, or perhaps simply humans. If he was going to entice it out, he'd have to be gentle and calm.

A light, airy chuckle seemed to echo around the forest and Bill blinked. The sound had been knowing and mischievous and naughty and innocent and wicked all in one. A head peeked out from behind the tree again and Bill caught a glimpse of the creature. It had a head full of dark hair – or was that peat? – and eyes the warm colour of freshly turned dirt.

Those eyes swept over Bill and the disturbance he'd made while trying to fight his way through this menace of a forest. A low trill of pain escaped the creature and Bill blinked in shock when it stepped out from its hiding place and ran lightly across the boggy ground to kneel at the base of the tree whose branch he'd broken. Where the creature's feet touched the earth, thick shoots of grass sprang up.

Eyes closing in an expression of tenderness, the creature stretched out one broad, masculine hand and lifted the scraggly branch, pressing it back into the trunk of the tree. A low murmur of sound, like that of leaves brushing against skin, reached Bill's ears and he felt a low twist in his gut when he saw the creature's hand glow for a moment before it pulled back.

The tree was perfect again.

Bill blinked in astonishment even as it occurred to him what the creature was. He – and it was definitely a he – was a dryad. A forest sprite. Bill swallowed roughly as he kept one careful eye on the dryad. He hadn't expected to ever see one, and if he had… well, he'd always assumed it would be something like a fairy or a gnome. Something… small.

The dryad, however, was man-sized, with leaf-green skin that was decorated in patterns of darker green. It turned back to Bill with a slightly disappointed expression and he felt his mouth go dry as he realised just how man-sized the creature was. His eyes were locked on the dryad's cock where it hung thickly between its legs. A questioning sound from the dryad pulled his reluctant gaze up to lock with the loamy brown one of his new companion.

Tugging on his hands to show his predicament, Bill shrugged his shoulders helplessly and said, "Help?"

The dryad's gaze went back to the newly repaired tree before sliding slyly to him. The mischievous look was back, in spades, and Bill felt again that sense of unease that had overcome him earlier. The dryad tilted its head and made a series of gestures with its hands.

Bill yelped in shock as he found himself suddenly suspended in the air, arms and legs trapped and held spread out by thick vines that slithered around his wrists and ankles. The vines were covered with tender shoots, each tipped with a leaf that seemed to tremble against his skin. He struggled slightly, trying to free himself, but all that gained him was a tightening of the vines around his extremities.

The dryad snapped its fingers to get his attention and Bill blinked as he recognised the sound of twigs breaking underfoot. The dryad placed one finger on Bill's leg, frowning in confusion when it felt the fabric of his denims. Its eyes slid up Bill until it saw where the cloth of his shirt was tucked into his waistband and understanding lit in them.

Wrinkling its nose in disgust, the dryad pursed its lips and made a noise like the crunching of dried leaves – to Bill it sounded vaguely disapproving. With a motion of its hand, new vines sprang up around Bill, tugging at his clothes, ripping them when they wouldn't simply fall off him.

He sucked in a breath when his boots – dragon hide, of course – were attacked. He actually wriggled his feet, helping the vines slip them off. Dragon hide was expensive as hell; he wasn't about to let them be destroyed.

Once he was completely bare, the dryad made a humming noise like the buzzing of insects and nodded its head almost regally. That finger returned, ghosting lightly over Bill's skin until he found himself shifting in the strong hold of the thick vines. As if drawn to the dryad's touch, velvety leaves caressed down Bill's arms and up his legs, making his breath catch in his throat on a strangled groan.

"What are you--?" His words cut off when the dryad ran one fingertip lightly down the length of his cock, causing it to harden and rise from his groin to stand proudly out from his stomach. The dryad pulled back, blinking in astonishment for a moment before it smiled slyly and encouraged shoots of vines to spring out from the main vine holding his right leg and wrap around his cock.

He sucked in a slightly pained breath when it pulled taut, restricting his cock. He groaned again, shakily licking his bottom lip as the dryad shifted its attention from his cock to the rest of his body. It ducked beneath the vines holding him captive, circling around behind him to run sturdy, capable fingers through his hair.

At the feeling of those gentle hands in his hair, Bill's body rocked in midair even as he pressed his head more firmly against the teasing pressure he craved. His eyes slowly fluttered open to stare into the dark ones of his captor and Bill watched languorously as the dryad's mouth moved in a silent murmur of approval over the autumnal colour of his hair.

A shaft of watery light found its way through the canopy of leaves overhead, shining through Bill's eyes so that he squinted against the brightness. The dryad pulled in a sharp breath, hands abandoning Bill's hair and scalp to cup his face. It looked slightly odd upside down, but the dryad's eyes bore into his, the earthy colour shifting as the pupils contracted. Bill saw the wonder in them before the dryad craned its neck to look up at the sky through the treetops. A light wind blew through them, parting them for a moment to show the brilliant sky overhead. It looked back down at him and ran the tip of one finger lightly over his bottom eyelashes, blinking as it examined his eyes, obviously fascinated.

After a long moment, the dryad stepped back, ducking and twisting to stand again in front of him. Now it was trailing its fingers along the freckles that thickly dotted his skin. The light touches made gooseflesh rise on his skin and the dryad pulled its hand back, shocked. Shyly extending one finger again, it traced the same path and stared in enthralment at the bumps that rose once more.

Bill twisted away when it came back a third time, not wanting the dryad to tickle him while he was quite so helpless. It blinked up at him, lips pressed together in bemusement until it got distracted by the flat discs of his nipples. He looked down, noticing that there was nothing to mar the smooth musculature of the dryad's chest. No nipples, no navel, no… hair. His own hands flexed in their restraints as he wondered what the dryad would feel like. He wasn't to know, however, and the thought slipped quickly from him under the haze of arousal that once more beat through him as the dryad played lightly with his nipples.

It circled the very outside, pulled lightly on the smattering of curly red chest hair that ringed them, and finally rolled the nubbin of flesh between its fingers in discovery, causing Bill to hiss in pleasure, thrusting his chest more firmly into the dryad's hand. At his obvious encouragement, the dryad settled itself lightly against him.

Bill rutted into the air when the dryad's other hand came up to pay the same attention to his left nipple that it had been showing his right. He groaned, his head dropping back again, and felt his cock twitch in the slackened grip of the vines. They moved sinuously against him, sliding around him almost wetly even as the dryad's attention was focused nearly completely on his chest and his sensitive nipples.

The light pinching and pulling of fingers against his nipples began to be imitated by the thin tendrils running out of the vine curling around the base of his cock. They wrapped tenderly around his balls, pulling gently, licking sensuously over the thin skin of his scrotum until the only sound he could make was a gurgle of pure want.

As the fingers plucked at his nipples, the vine twisted and pulled on his cock, and the leaves licked at his balls, something began to press insistently against the skin behind his balls, causing starbursts to explode behind his now-closed eyes. Bill was suspended in a bubble of pure passion, unable to hear or see anything other than his own laboured breathing and the rapid beat of his heart until the blunt vine playing at the sensitive area behind his balls dragged itself along the crack of his arse and slowly began to penetrate him.

His eyes flew open and he shouted a name even as the forest disappeared from around him to be replaced by the curtains of his bed.

"I wondered how long it'd take you to wake up," Neville said, his voice crackling like dried leaves with the hoarseness that came from taking all of Bill down his deliciously tight throat.

Eyes the colour of freshly turned dirt shined up at him in the weak morning light, the look in them at once knowing and mischievous and naughty and innocent and wicked. A ragged moan squeezed from Bill as he watched Neville's lips stretch wide again around his aching cock and from the pleasure spiking through him, he could tell that Neville had at least one finger up his arse.

When he tried to move his hand down to sift through Neville's messy morning hair, he realised he was caught: his wrists and ankles were bound with the thick silken cords his lover had surprised him with three weeks ago.

The light filtering through the curtains cast a pale green colour to Neville's skin and the potted plants on the windowsill added to the effect, throwing leafy shadows on him. Bill's lips turned up into a wicked smile even as he attempted to thrust his hips forward.

Dreams be damned. He had his own dryad right here in real life.