(a/n: title from "fuck me and feed me" by rendezvous at two)
The Paliades Gardens is a green collective dedicated to providing high quality green services to Magix.
Using a combination of Lynphean philosophical thought, Zenithian-patented relaxants, and Eraklyonite distributors, green services are designated locations dedicated to selling product that induce magical highs to incite maximum relaxation and conflict relief as possible. They're buildings that come in all shapes and sizes, with dispensaries at the entrance and some kind of magically compartmentalized scenery at the back. The first time Bloom—Domino-born, Earth-raised—had ever encountered one of these collectives, she called them fancy smoke shops and laughed to herself.
The Paliades Gardens drew inspiration from an Earthen myth, the Gardens of Hesperides where Hercules completed one of his twelve labors in a battle against Antaeus. The magically-constructed scenery is an idyllic little orchard with lush, sprawling meadows. Employees dot the landscape, to ensure that no one is acting out of turn and to provide help if someone needs it.
Flora leans back against a couch formed by thick, twining vines that she must've erected for herself when she was more sound of mind. She loves the Paliades Gardens because of the way they vaguely remind her of her home on Lynphea. Her skin feels tingly and her entire core is so warm, spreading out to the surfaces of her entire body. Breath feels as though it's being pushed out of her chest in the most pleasant ways. Every sensation has developed more rigid concepts of physical textures than she normally perceives. Her entire body feels heavy like gravity has increased twentyfold—a feeling that is only corroborated by the weight of the pretty girl straddled across her lap.
The Paliades Gardens is Flora's favorite place to destress after a long week at Alfea College for Fairies. While other fairies spend their Friday nights dressing to the nines in tall stiletto heels to make their marks on the town for the night, Flora likes to tug on her baby pink sweats and get absolutely shitfaced. The first time Stella ever caught Flora baking pot brownies in their common kitchen at four in the morning, she'd looked her up and down before humming, "Checks out."
There's a reason Flora is so chilled out all the time.
Flora usually preferred to get high in her suite around the Winx because their eclectic personalities all squished together into close proximity always provided for premium entertainment. She could chill out on the couch, feeling like her soul are absolutely flying and soaring overhead her body, while she distantly internalized all the commotion going on around her—absolutely gone to the world. The Winx are close in the way that a family is—sometimes too close, is what that means. As often as the girls laugh and josh around with each other, there is also some kind of drama usually stemming from something quite petty. Flora, who is usually the mediator or bystander in these conflicts while sober, finds them highly amusing if a tad overstimulating while high out of her mind.
They don't always just leave Flora lying around by herself, though. Sometimes Musa and Aisha would want to join in the fun, and then they'd gently lead Flora out onto the balcony for them to pass a joint back and forth in the open air while she sat quietly and watched. Other times, Stella would furiously plop down her laptop in front of her and crash into her side on the couch cushions, chugging down expensive bottles of wine reserved for princesses, and would turn on reruns of an old show that Stella absolutely adores with an ending that she absolutely deplores. And on occasion, Flora would end up spooning Bloom on Bloom's bed in their shared room, after having listened to Bloom bemoaning her boy troubles with the one and only Prince Sky while receiving advice from Flora at her most blunt. Most often, unfortunately, Flora sees Tecna from the corner of her eye, stiff and uncomfortable around her inebriation.
Sometimes she can ignore it guilt-free, but a lot of the time she can't. She dearly loves and treasures Tecna, and would not want her propensity for marijuana to drive any real wedge between them. So her nights getting high in the Winx Suite have since dwindled, and she spends more time in the second-best place to unwind.
Green collectives such as the Paliades Gardens are odd in that they are distinctly removed from the societal conventions of normal magical society. They rarely differentiate between magic types—dark or light—when allowing in customers and the way they arbiter conflict is always pointedly neutral. For the sake of their bottom line, green collectives decidedly ignore political tensions and preconceptions about dark-or-light magic wielders and have somehow systematically removed them from affecting the environments of the collectives entirely. This results in people, regardless of their loyalties, sucking it up and making peace with one another for the sake of being able to get high in exponentially safer and more curated environments.
All of this to say, Flora—the sweetheart fairy of nature of the Winx Club—is smoke buddies with Darcy.
Yes, that Darcy.
It's not that big of a coincidence. Since they share a realm of residence (whoever decided to put Alfea and Cloud Tower, two of the biggest sites of continued dark-light magic conflict, on the same planet was absolutely insane), it's only natural that places that the Winx and the Trix frequent in their downtime have some overlap. While being students is technically their full-time job, most people carry the mindset that as fairies-or-witches-in-training, they are essentially Career Magixians Lite, which is essentially the same as simply being a full-time Fairy or Witch. So school is often thought of as a place of work, and anything that the students get up to when they're not acting as students doesn't count.
So it doesn't count.
It's a blip on the radar. Completely negligible to even note, honestly.
Outside of being a member of the increasingly famed Winx Club and the Fairy of Nature, Flora is just a chill stoner girl with a mad scientist streak and eyes that could make people move mountains. Outside of being a member of the increasingly notorious Trix Coven and Witch of Darkness, Darcy is just another chill stoner girl with a voice like velvet and an appetite to match.
They make out. A lot.
Hey, Flora's only a woman, and Darcy is so fucking hot—what with her eye-catching jade hair and the sharp cut of her stomach. She's ashamed to admit it, but sometimes she wonders what would've happened if Darcy had honed in on her as a target instead of Riven and pressed herself into the inner corners of Flora's mind, gently nudging her to her will. She would've been a hell of a lot of less volatile, and a lot more compliant—unlike the brat Riven turned out to be. Ah, well, it's lucky Darcy hadn't picked up on that at the time.
Darcy swipes a tongue across Flora's plush bottom lip, the faint taste of weed heavy on her tongue. Flora moans lightly, so Darcy retaliates by grinding down on the fairy's thigh and rocking her body against hers. Flora's fingers are tangled in Darcy's jade-green hair and her breaths are short and wispy.
"Good girl," Darcy murmurs, fluttering kisses along her jawline. "Pretty girl."
Flora sucks in a breath around the sounds she's making at Darcy's gentle touches and all the points where their bodies are pressed together. Darcy responds by licking a stripe down her neck, tugging Flora's head back by her hair when she chokes out a pretty noise. Flora's hands make their way down from the small of Darcy's back to her waist then her hips, squeezing into the soft skin there. She's lost in a haze, every cell in her body screaming at Darcy's touches, and doesn't even register the presence coming up behind her.
When he speaks, Flora distantly recognizes the voice as one of her classmates. He's a male fairy, one of the few at Alfea.
"Mind if I join in?" he asks, awkward yet somehow projecting an air of sleaziness.
Flora whines as Darcy breaks off from her mouth to respond, a thin trail of saliva linking their lips together despite the sudden space between them.
"Beat it, twerp," Darcy snaps, voice gruff.
She returns to blowing Flora's fucking mind with her tongue. Distantly, Flora registers when Darcy pulls away again to snap at the man—who apparently still hasn't left.
"I'm sure you can spare a moment—," he starts.
"I said, beat it," Darcy repeats, voice interlaced with sparks of witchcraft.
Immediately, the man's breathing evens and he quickly walks away to tuck himself behind the exit door, unobtrusive.
Flora's eyes glaze over at the display of power.
"That was so fucking hot," Flora breathes, then pushes Darcy down against the couch frame.
Their kissing has transformed from wet and languid into frenetic and desperate. Flora crushes herself against Darcy's mouth, feeling wild, and humps against her like a bitch in heat. Darcy registers the wetness seeping through Flora's thin panties under her miniskirt with distant yet wild abandon, then flips the nature fairy over so that she can squeeze her knee in between two of Flora's strong thighs.
"A-aah, nnn—! "
"You're so sweet for me, Flora," Darcy praises. "Keep making those pretty noises, babygirl."
"Need you," Flora gasps. "Please, please, please, inside."
"No penetrative sex in the Paliades," Darcy chides her, tone purposefully mean. "You know the rules, baby."
Flora whines, feeling like her voice is being pulled from her throat and her entire core is about to erupt. It's so strange how Darcy's skin can be so cold yet light Flora on fire to the touch.
"Th-that's not a rule that's meant for us," Flora manages. She's not even sure if she's making sense. Her thought process feels so thick it's almost tangible. "It's about procreation. This is pleasure."
Darcy hovers above her, eyes dragging up and down her front. She doesn't seem to register anything Fora is saying, eyes dark and clouded. "Is that so?"
"Mhm."
"So what should we do?" Darcy says, framing Flora's face with her arms. She rubs circles into Flora's right temple with her thumb.
"So you should let me go down on you," Flora says, eyes wide and pleading.
"You're so fucking perfect, Flora, gods," Darcy groans, then shifts to a sitting pose and maneuvers Flora around until her face is between her thighs.
Flora pulls down Darcy's thong to her knees, then dives right in with cute little kitten licks steadily growing more greedy and confident. Darcy presses Flora's face harder into her cunt, overwhelmed with the urge to just absorb Flora into her skin. Flora breathes sharp little breaths into the junction between her legs, and sucks and swirls her tongue around her clit like she's starving for it. Darcy comes with a yelp, orgasm rippling through her body until she's buzzing with pleasure. Inordinately satisfied, Darcy yanks Flora up against her, sticking a hand down her panties and hooking two of her fingers inside of her—rules be damned—while rubbing furiously at her clit.
Flora is soaking wet, moaning so unbrokenly she's practically singing.
"Darcyyy, " Flora wails, orgasm wracking through her body. It's earth-shattering. It feels like 20,000 explosions popping across her entire body, stamping themselves into her soul until the universe shakes from their prominence.
Darcy presses her mouth against Flora's almost violently, trying to swallow her sounds with unhinged possessiveness.
"It's time to go," a diplomatic employee approaches and says in that same old rehearsed intonation. Darcy calls them the cum patrol because they're always hellbent on cockblocking and masters in the art of boner killers. Flora cautiously sticks to the term non-offensive third-party conflict arbiters. "No penetrative sex in the Paliades."
"Yeah, yeah," Darcy says dismissively, used to this routine. She fucks Flora brainless in the Gardens, they both get verbally kicked out, Darcy mind controls everyone to leave the premises because she can and will do who-slash-whatever the fuck wants, then Flora sucks the soul out of her clit in thanks. This is generally when Darcy digs through her handy 'materials' and splits Flora open on her cock for being so thoughtful.
So they do more than make out. Whatever.
Darcy wears the litter of scratch marks on her back as badges of pride. Sometimes Darcy will catch Flora in the midst of a petty Trix-versus-Winx fight, eyes locking on the lines on her back while chewing her lip, thus allowing the Trix to get the up on her and send her careening out of the air. This is where Darcy creates an illusion of a battle sustained to distract her sisters from the truth before Flora fucks her into the ground—bloody and dirty—like she has something to prove. These are really the only times Darcy surrenders her control, when they're both entirely sober but drunk on their own power.
Flora is the most beautiful woman she's ever laid eyes on. Radiating warmth and magic energy, Flora had once caught Darcy's eye through her classical fairy grace. Her brown skin and honeyed hair, the curve of her hip to her thigh, the plushness of her pink mouth. To know that she has such a core of steel to disrupt all of the quiet elegance… Darcy is so pleased by how dirty she can be.
Darcy knows that if she lets Flora in too close, she'd be swayed by her idealistic worldview. Riven was easy, already so embittered by the world that drawing him over to her side was as simple as crossing off an item on the grocery list. Flora is different because, for all of her outward softness, Darcy can sense the strength of her conviction underlying it all. Better to keep the words to a minimum, and concentrate on how to get Flora to sing for her. And sing for her, she does, in a variety of ways.
"Pl-Please, Darcy, I need you to fuck me," Flora begs. "Fuck me."
Darcy snaps her gaze on her, eyes heavy, and it is with great arousal that Flora realizes she's just wordlessly forced everyone to leave their post. The thought is so overwhelmingly hot, she's so soaked she's absolutely squelching as Darcy fucks her with her cock. She's losing her damn mind. Flora's hands clutch at the vines beneath her, fingernails ripping into the trunks, then gasps when Darcy fucking folds her in half, the pace of her thrusts unrelenting.
"Uhn—fuck—Darcy! "
Flora feels so dirty, the way they're both half-clothed like this. Darcy is pantsless, but her T-shirt is knotted to make the fabric cling to her skin. For Flora's part, her skirt is flipped up and her underwear is tugged down to her knees. Her pale green crewneck is bunched up into her armpits and her tits are out and bouncing. She's heaving these choked-out little breaths like the air is being punched out of her, legs spread wide and knees hooked over Darcy's shoulders.
"You're such a pretty little fairy," Darcy says into her skin, palming her ass. "So pretty for me."
Then she stops all her movement altogether, pressing Flora down until she's entirely still. Flora is crazed. The sudden loss of stimulation mixed with the high is all too much for her. She feels so full, still—Darcy's cock feels massive inside her, immobile though it is.
"Darcy," Flora sobs, gasping out the witch's name in quick succession—like a prayer. "Darcy, Darcy, Darcy, Darcy."
"Flora," Darcy says sharply, forcing her to meet her eye. Flora's entire world zeroes in on Darcy's hazel eyes. "Come for me."
The suggestion nudges its way into Flora's mind, then it becomes her. Keening loudly, Flora's orgasm is ripped out of her—taken from her—nothing pushing her over the edge besides Darcy's dark magic. The reminder drives her delirious with want, the fact that Flora knows Darcy could always just take what she wants from her, but instead, here's Flora— giving it, surrendering herself completely. The orgasm is never-ending. Flora feels like she's being ripped apart. Meanwhile, Darcy remains motionless, content to let Flora gush on her cock with zero interruption, a smug smirk plastered on her face.
Tears in her eyes, Flora says, "N-not enough. Hn, not enough."
She twists her head around to hide her expression, but Darcy catches her chin and presses a sweet kiss to her lips. She knows that orgasms that are wrestled out of you through mind magic—good as they may feel—are deeply unsatisfactory. There's none of that delicious build-up.
"Sorry, baby," she teases, not sorry at all. "Let me help you."
Then she flips Flora over onto her front, presses herself deliciously up against her back, and thrusts once—deep—then twice—hard—all while flicking her clit languidly. Flora all but screams, another orgasm wracking through her so soon after her previous one. Then Darcy sits up, pulling Flora onto her lap over her cock. She nips at Flora's neck while playing with her tits. The nature fairy is positively wrecked.
"Too much," Flora whimpers.
"You really changed your tune," Darcy quips, pinching her nipple and delighting in the way Flora shudders.
"L-let me take care of you."
"Oh, baby, you are," Darcy says, and she's not even lying. She's sitting in a small puddle of her own wetness while playing with Flora like she's her favorite instrument. "Panties off."
Obediently, Flora clumsily wrangles her panties off of her legs, motor skills impaired. Darcy takes them with a grateful open hand.
"Mouth open," Darcy says. Flora complies. Darcy stuffs her panties in Flora's mouth, making her gag and drool. "Good girl. What a pretty little fairy, my pretty whore."
Flora whimpers, clenching down on Darcy's cock. Darcy rocks up against her, making her squeak, then slips out entirely. She splays Flora out along the couch, admiring the pretty debauched picture she makes. Eyes wet and lips wrapped around her own soiled panties, drool staining her rumpled crewneck. Tits out and skirt flipped up to reveal her puffy unshaved pussy.
"You're so dirty," says Darcy. "Let me clean you up."
Then she goes down on her, making Flora thrash around in the throes of pleasure but unable to make any coherent sounds, muffled around her make-shift gag. Darcy licks off the wetness drooling onto Flora's inner thighs, then laps up her folds like it's her last ever meal. Her teeth graze Flora's clit in a way that she knows gets Flora nervous yet unbearably horny, then she flattens her tongue against her warmth, like a cat that got the cream.
Flora comes with little jolts like she's being shocked. Darcy, for her part, sets her cock to the side and rubs herself off on Flora's thigh—which is enough of a push to get her to release. Darcy comes with a punched-out groan, then collapses on top of the fairy. For a moment they just hold onto each other, breathing harshly.
Darcy feels the haze of her high clearing up. She gets up, picking up her own discarded black thong and wrestling on her purple bell bottoms. Gently pushing open Flora's lips, she removes Flora's lacy panties from her mouth and smugly places them into her bag—alongside her strap—like a spoil of war.
Flora is breathing heavily, eyes still dilated. Darcy gently shucks down her crewneck until her torso is completely covered again and rolls her thong onto her before flipping her skirt down. Darcy brushes the hair matted to her forehead from sweat out of Flora's face.
"How are you feeling, Flora?" Darcy can't keep the reflexive sneer out of her voice when saying the other's name, now that they're no longer fucking, but she maintains the softness in her voice as best as possible.
"Fuckin' great," Flora croaks out. "Still high."
"I can tell," Darcy says fondly, fingers brushing her cheek. "We should head out now."
"Mm."
Darcy helps Flora to her feet, making sure her phone is in her pocket and hands her the water bottle she'd stored in her bag before arriving.
"Drink," she orders.
"Mhm," Flora hums, then gulps down half of it.
Quiet and buzzing, Darcy leads Flora out of the Gardens.
At the reception, they're met with a horde of disgruntled staff recovering from having their mind invaded and bodies yanked from their control.
Flora and Darcy are politely informed that they will not be welcomed back to the Paliades Gardens and that the receptionist will learn their names and faces. They both take it in stride, quietly knowing of the fact that the ban will be lifted within a week. Darcy always posits that the Paliadesians secretly like to enjoy the show, and Flora is inclined to agree. Not that she's mad about it.
Outside the Gardens, Darcy bids Flora goodbye, sweeping her up in a brazen kiss. Flora petulantly bites her lip for her troubles, and Darcy pulls away licking blood off her teeth—grinning.
"See you around, little fairy," Darcy says.
"Bye, Darcy," Flora responds, mind still cloudy.
Darcy disappears in a flash of teleportation magic, a lesson taught to sophomore witches. Flora transforms into her fairy form, clumsily fluttering her way to the edge of the forest, then trusts the Voice of Nature to lead her back to Alfea.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the Green Queen!" Stella exclaims, hands on her hips when Flora returns to the Winx Suite.
"It was getting so late," Bloom says. The clock behind her reads 2:31 AM. "We were getting worried."
"Looks like we shouldn't have been though," Musa points out amusedly, looking Flora up and down. She's disheveled, purple marks blooming on her skin where luckily no one could see. "Someone had a good night."
"Yeah," Flora giggles, still not entirely sobered up yet. "I did."
She sits down on the floor in front of the couch, where Bloom and Aisha are currently sitting. Musa is sitting on the arm of the loveseat, which is occupied by Tecna, who seems to be attempting to hook up a movie to their big monitor through her laptop. Stella stands behind the couch between Bloom and Aisha, then leaps over the back to sit in between them.
"I'm glad at least someone had a nice night," Aisha scoffs pointedly. Flora is missing some context here, clearly.
All the Winx are in their comfy loungewear and PJs, but all of their faces are still made up and sparkly—save Tecna, who never likes to go out to these kinds of things.
"I told you all Riven shouldn't be trusted," Tecna says, matter-of-fact.
"Oh, don't you start with that again," Musa interjects, looking irate. "He took us to a perfectly acceptable club."
"If by acceptable, you mean trashy as hell and crawling with witches," Stella cries. She says in a mocking tone, ending with a screech, "'A friend told me about this place ' my ass—that friend was probably Darcy!"
"Riven recommended this off-planet club to the guys and took all of us there," Bloom begins filling Flora in. "And you wouldn't believe who we ended up seeing there!"
"There were so many Cloud Tower witches there," Stella bemoans.
"That's not even the bad part," Aisha says, unimpressed. "We saw Icy and Stormy there. Bloom and I nearly got into a fight."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Flora says, still blissed out.
"Thank you, Flora!" Musa says. "The music was good and so was the energy. I don't know what you guys are so upset about."
"The dark energy, you mean?" Stella retorts.
"You princesses are all so morally rigid!" Musa shouts.
"Wha—! You—! Where do I even begin with you?"
It devolves into a fight from there, as per usual.
Flora sits there, mind floating and core pulsing, giggling at the commotion her friends are causing. Cautiously, Tecna meets Flora's gaze.
"Are you alright, Flora?" Tecna asks, somewhat stiffly.
"Peachy," Flora says dreamily, then hides her smile behind her hands.
Oh, she loves her friends.