"Finn--," Poe gasped as teeth sunk into his neck and he bucked into their hands, stroking a little too fast as he couldn't help but chase that pleasure he could feel mounting. "Finn--" he tried again, something brushing across his knuckles, and though he thought it was just Finn shifting his grip, he looked down.

A vine was winding itself around the base of Finn's cock, around Poe's fingers, and he could see it had travelled up his whole leg. A glance down himself noted that he was rooted to the floor, two thick vines tightening around his ankles, and as he watched them, they forced his legs open a little wider.

He should be freaked out. He shouldn't be upset. But instead he just moaned, his strokes faltering before the vine tightened his grip.