Blooming dandelions tickled Pansy’s bare feet, their yellow petals staining her ankles. She’d been skipping around the field for a few hours already, ever since the sun had reached its zenith and every flower around their circle had unfurled their gentle bodies. The air smelled sweet and earthy, the perfect mix for a day like today.
Pansy would never be caught dead in white robes, but ivory on the other hand perfectly matched her skin tone. Some of the younger girls had arrived with flower arrangements, so Pansy had paired her light spring robes with a beautifully woven columbine flower crown. The pinks, blues, and violets looked striking against her short black hair. Around her neck was a necklace of — what else, really — pansies, specially grown for her by her bonded.
The tall hawthorn trees surrounding the field pulsed with magical energy, and she couldn’t help herself from running her fingers along the bark and caressing the branches. Her task that morning had been to gather fallen hawthorn branches for their altar and for their ritual after the bonfire. She’d managed to find enough to build a sturdy altar, which she’d then adorned with dandelions, daisies, multicoloured primroses, and blue irises. Pansy was rather proud of her altar; it was her first year making one, and she was glad that it would be just as beautiful as those from the previous years.
“Pansy, love?” Someone called from behind her.
She turned and smiled at the sight. Neville was wearing barley-coloured robes too, his blond hair messy. He had streaks of dirt across his cheek and his knees were stained green from the grass, but his eyes were wonderfully bright and happy.
“Nev,” she said, reaching for him. He laced their fingers and pulled her against his chest. “Careful, you brute. You’ll mess with the flowers! After all the trouble Victoire and her friends went through…”
He grinned fondly and rearranged both the crown and necklace, then pulled out his wand. “Of course, love.” Neville sniggered at her exasperated sigh and whispered a spell that smoothed out the slightly crumpled flowers. With another charm, Pansy felt the magic settle over the petals. “There, now they’ll remain intact even during vigorous activities.”
In spite of herself, Pansy blushed and slapped Neville’s chest, which was shaking with another laugh.
“I meant the Maypole-dancing, Pans. Merlin.” With another deep chuckle, he leaned down and brushed his lips on her forehead. His voice took on more serious tone as his hand curled around her hip. “Honest though, love, how do you feel about tonight?”
Immediately, heat flowed like molten silver through her veins and even the flimsy fabric of her robes couldn’t hide the sudden hardness of her nipples. Salazar, she’d been looking forward to that since last year.
“As excited as you, I’d hope,” she whispered in her most seductive voice. Her hand brushed against Neville’s robes, just below his navel, and she felt the twinge of interest. It was her turn to giggle and look up at Neville with heavily lidded eyes. “Oh, yes. Me too, darling.”
Neville took a slow and deep breath before cupping her jaw and pulling her into a soft kiss. His lips were warm and wet, perfectly shaped to slot against hers. Pansy traced his bottom lip with her tongue to request further access, but Neville smirked and pulled away.
“Don’t pout,” he teased when she pursed her lips to do just that. “A little teasing never hurt you, did it?”
A shiver ran down Pansy’s back and her body eagerly sent more goosebumps across her skin. Even in the bright midday sun, she shivered at the thought of being teased all bloody day until the ritual. So, naturally, she sent a glare in Neville’s direction and tilted her chin up.
“Fine, be that way, darling. Maybe I’ll go look somewhere else.”
Something flashed in Neville’s blue eyes, something like hunger and possessiveness, and it made her smile with mischief. She was always so very good at riling him up.
“No, you won’t,” he ordered calmly. “And even if you did, it’s us against you, love. He’s the strict one.”
Pansy shrugged, but there was more amusement in his eyes now. “Perhaps.”
“Maybe you’d like a good spanking before the ritual, then? Between both of us? Your bum in the air, maybe I’ll tickle you with those beautiful flowers you’ve gathered for us. Slowly up your thighs, one cheek at a time…”
Pansy groaned and pressed her thighs tightly together. “Salazar, Neville,” she whispered. “That’s just cruel.”
“You’re the one trying to play your little tricks on us.” This time, he kissed both her cheeks and took a step back. “Come, let’s go Maypole dancing.”
With a nod, she followed him back to the tall pole where other wixen were gathering. Children ran around them, laughing and yelling in delight as the adults conjured colourful ribbons. With a practiced flick of their wands, the ribbons attached themselves to the top of the pole. Pansy pulled out her own wand and conjured three ribbons: lavender for herself, yellow for Neville, and green for Percy.
“There you are,” said a familiar rich and deep voice next to Neville. Percy Weasley was dressed in crisp tan robes, ironed straight and fitting to his body like a glove. The golden rim of his glasses glinted with the midday sun.
She turned and handed him the green ribbon. Percy scowled and arched a ginger eyebrow at her.
“Really, I’m the one with Slytherin green?” Despite his expression, his voice was warm and his blue eyes full of mirth.
She shrugged and took a few steps closer to him. “Well, sir, I thought fertility and good luck would suit you well.”
Neville chuckled and slapped Percy’s shoulder. Percy, on the other hand, grabbed Pansy by the back of her neck, gracefully avoiding the pansies, and pulled her against him. His fingers, elegant and strong, slipped into her hair. A little whimper escaped her lips without her permission.
“Indeed,” Percy whispered, so only they could hear. “Good girl.”
Just like Neville’s words had affected her earlier, Percy’s praise sent a shiver through her body. His eyes flicked down to her protruding nipples and his free hand discreetly slid up her belly until his thumb brushed against them. Another whimper escaped and this time Percy hummed in appreciation.
“Very well. Green is an excellent choice.”
Pansy let out a shaky breath and tension melted out of her body. “Thank you, sir,” she whispered. A welcomed and familiar floaty feeling swimmed around her head, and she leaned fully against Percy as he gently massaged the tense muscles of her neck.
Next to them, Neville smiled contentedly at the scene. They all had a rather unorthodox arrangement, but none of them would ever complain or change anything. Today wasn’t just any old Beltane celebration, it was the first year anniversary of their bonding. Last year, Percy and Pansy had magically bonded over a handfasting ceremony, very traditional and held in the Weasley orchard. Then they’d Apparated to Longbottom Hall and in the middle of Neville’s beloved gardens, she and Neville had held a very similar bonding ceremony. Magic had accepted their bonds, and together they had celebrated Beltane with the Weasleys and all of their friends. It was rare for two wizards to take the same witch without bonding between themselves, but it worked for them. They’d made the papers for nearly a week after that, to Pansy’s amusement and Percy’s annoyance.
Once everyone had their ribbons, some of the older wixen began chanting in a mix of blossom-soft sopranos and bone-deep baritones. Someone had a drum and another lute. Pansy felt the music and chant course through her blood, and in a flurry of colours everyone joined the Maypole dancing. Percy and Neville went widdershins while Pansy went deosil, and everytime they met one of them ran their fingers somewhere on her body.
Around her, she could feel the magic building slowly but surely as they all danced around the Maypole. The grass beneath her feet felt like silk and the sweet floral scent made it easy to drift away. After two rounds, she felt comfortable enough to sing along to the old Gaelic chant. Her parents had never taught her the specifics of the Beltane rituals, especially the dancing part, but she was ever so grateful that she could be a part of it now. It was the most reinvigorating festival of the year, in her experience. Perhaps it was because she was a spring child, a flower blooming after the harsh winter.
Today Pansy felt like a fertile flower, ready to enshrine her roots into the ground. Ready to grow her family into a carefully tended garden.
When their ribbons were too short to continue dancing, Percy and Neville grabbed her hands and dragged her away. Children continued to dance with more ribbons conjured by their parents, laughing and chasing one another. Once upon a time, Pansy had hated the idea of children. They were little pests who put their grubby little hands where they didn’t belong. And at times she’d felt like an overgrown child herself, and she couldn’t fathom taking care of one.
Until she’d met Percy and he made her feel useful, good, appreciated. Until she’d met Neville and he made her feel wanted, treasured, worthy. And now she wanted to give them a legacy, a child with black hair and blue eyes, or ginger-blond hair and chestnut eyes. It would be a bloody unorthodox family, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.
“How are you feeling, love?” Neville asked her, a bit breathless.
Pansy tilted her chin upwards and looked at him through her lashes. “Bloody fantastic.”
Neville laughed while Percy sighed. “Pans, there are children around. Please watch your language.”
“Sorry, sir,” Pansy simpered, leaning against him a bit. His freckled cheeks were a wonderful pink from all that dancing around.
“Did you guys feel the magic build up? I reckon this happens every time Harry participates.” Neville turned back to see Harry still dancing with the children, blue irises in his hair.
“Yes, Harry does tend to do that,” Percy agreed with a chuckle. “Remember last year? Some of the younger kids were nearly floating in the air by the end of it.”
Pansy shook her head in fond exasperation and led both her boys to their throw blanket. Scattered across the field, families and friends shared picnic blankets and ate together. Their own was near the Weasley family, but not many of them religiously celebrated Beltane. Only Bill, Fleur, their children Victoire, Dominique, and Louis; Charlie, and Ginny were present. She knew Hermione and Ron normally brought their own children for the children’s games at least, but they were absent this year.
Percy’s older brothers knew of their plans for the evening, so they gave him very Weasley-like hugs and back slaps and winks before allowing him to join Neville and her back on their blanket.
“Would you do us the honour?” Neville asked her. Percy nodded and swished his wand to spread their picnic food around their small triangle.
“It would be my pleasure.” Pansy cleared her throat and closed her eyes. With a few breaths, she centered herself and touched base with her magic. It felt wonderfully warm and electric, like the hot and heavy air before a summer thunderstorm. It smelled of petrichor and sweet pollen.
“ The leaves are budding across the land, on the ash and oak and hawthorn trees. Magic rises around us in the forest and the hedges are filled with laughter and love. Dear Lady, we offer you a gift, a gathering of flowers picked by our hands, woven into the circle of endless life. The bright colours of nature herself blend together to honour you, Queen of spring, as we give you the honour this day. Spring is here and the land is fertile, ready to offer up gifts in your name. We pay you tribute, our lady, daughter of the Fae, and ask for your blessing this Beltane .”
Raw magic seared through Pansy, leaving her breathless and flushed. It was the most exhilarating experience of her life, feeling magic like this, as though it were truly alive and responsive to their prayers and granted them their blessings. A flare of arousal speared her lower regions, between her thighs, and Pansy couldn’t help giggling at that.
“Well, Lady Magic certainly wants us to shag later,” she whispered to both her bondeds. “She’s, ah, made matters… Well, you know.” She wasn’t a prude by all means, but they were about to eat for Salazar’s sake. Even she had more sense than that. Hopefully.
Percy grinned wolfishly and pulled her closer with a strong hand on her nape. “Yeah? Too bad we’ve got till sundown to get to the main event, hm?”
His breath tickled her ear and the comforting presence of his hand on her neck was enough to make Pansy pliant and demure. Next to her, Neville smiled knowingly and slid his hand up her thigh. Both her boys were torturing her and by all gods, she loved it. The magic surrounding them was thick and erotic, it made Pansy want to pant and disrobe. If she didn’t know better, she might think there was some sex pollen in the air. But no; it was all Beltane and Lady Magic’s blessing.
“Let’s eat.” Percy broke their collective trance and a shiver went through all of them.
“Blessed Beltane,” Neville said, serving them all a glass of spiced wine. It was dark and fruity, and immediately Pansy knew this was one of the special Longbottom cellar wines. As a traditionally Light family, they always celebrated Beltane, at least while the Old Holidays had been common. The celebrations had only made a comeback a few years after the war, after all, and many Light families still hesitated to join the festivities.
Pansy was immensely grateful that she had partners who felt similarly connected to the Old Ways, the Gaelic pagan ways. The Parkinsons were certainly not known for celebrating the Old Holidays, but after years in the Slytherin dorms and with friends like Draco and Theo and Daphne, she’d learned to appreciate and even love the Old Ways. There was something grounding about them, it made her feel so alive and powerful.
“Blessed Beltane,” Percy echoed and served them the meat of their meal: ham and fish, with a few nuts.
“Blessed Beltane,” Pansy finished and served the vegetables: edible flowers, greens, and a few pieces of fruit.
It wasn’t exactly a traditional Beltane meal, but that hardly mattered to them. There was something about each of them having something to offer for the meal, something different and that represented them in some way. They ate in silence, while around them other families offered similar prayers and chants to the May Queen. The sun kept them warm, the magic made everything feel surreal and more alive than what was natural. It was a beautiful thing to witness.
“Are there any bonding or handfasting ceremonies this year?” She asked Percy, who always knew these things best.
He shook his head and chewed a handful of nuts before answering. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Luna and Ginny were planning on it, but Mr Lovegood has taken ill recently, so they postponed it to next year for when he’s back in good health.” Neville looked over his shoulder at Ginny, who was sitting a few feet away and was in a fierce debate about something Quidditch related with Charlie.
“Oh, that’s unfortunate. Luna does have this je-ne-sais-quoi about her magic. It would have been a beautiful ritual.” Pansy sipped some of the spiced wine. As she’d thought, it was delicious. “Give her my best wishes for her father when you see her next, darling.”
Neville smiled brightly at her and nodded. Even Percy’s lips twitched into a rare smile and he reached with his clean hand to pet her hair. They were always like this, discreetly praising her for extending politeness to their friends and family. It hadn’t been easy at first; she’d been bred to look down on people like the Weasley and Lovegoods, to hate Light families and spurn them at any opportunity. It had taken years of unlearning, but she also thought she’d made some good progress.
So Pansy smiled at her lovers and served them both a fresh portion of berries.
The afternoon was spent lounging and watching over the children play games. The Weasley kids all came to say hullo to them and Victoire sat next to Pansy for a good hour. They talked about flower language and the meaning of Beltane. It warmed Pansy’s heart to rare levels, to have the trust not only of Bill and Fleur, but also of Victoire herself. The young witch had a determined look in her eyes, clearly eager to learn from a different perspective than her parents, and asked Pansy all sorts of questions. Though they may have been nearly eighteen years apart, Pansy still felt like the eldest Weasley girl was something close to a friend.
Dominique came to join them and presented Pansy, Neville, and Percy with threaded bracelets she called ‘friendship bracelets’, and tied one to each of their wrists. Percy used a spell to make them resistant to the elements and to daily wear, much to Dominique’s excitement. She dragged him to every single other wix she’d given a bracelet to. But even with Percy’s sighs and groans, she caught the brightness in his eyes. It stirred something within her to watch both Percy and Neville interact with young wixen, whether they were from Light or Grey or Dark families. Neville charmed flowers to sing, Percy transfigured twigs into miniature violins, and together they entertained the children with music and laughter.
Pansy wasn’t one to debase herself and do something so uncouth as to cry in public, but it was a very close affair.
When sundown was less than an hour away, everyone gathered at the altar Pansy had built earlier today. Many thanked her for the beautiful flower arrangement, her careful selection of primroses and blue irises, and she felt… so accepted , that she couldn’t find the words to thank them. Percy and Neville were by her side, the first with an arm around her shoulders and the second with an arm around her waist. Between them like this, Pansy felt the Beltane magic swirling through their robes and twining them together.
An elderly witch, Madam Nacht, stood behind the altar. Her aura was powerful and serene, like the constant motion of the ocean, inevitable. She raised both arms in the air, no wand in sight, and tipped her head back.
“Wixen of Old Ways, blessed Beltane!”
A chorus of blessed Beltane followed. The old witch smiled until her eyes were nothing but slits among a sea of wrinkles.
“On this blessed day, we thank the May Queen, the daughter of the Fae. She who grants us the spring life and green hopes, the joyous occasions of procreation. May those who seek life find their womb fertile and healthy.” Madam Nacht repeated the words in a Gaelic Pansy was familiar with, but only aurally. She didn’t know what the words meant, but she could definitely feel their meaning. Like a spell, they filled the air with energy and love.
“On this blessed day, we thank the May Queen, the daughter of the Fae. She who grants us luck and fortune, prosperity of the heart. May those who are struggling to see the Light find their way out of the Darkness of the Void, for today begins the Light half of the year. The sun and moon shine in unison, and bring new hope, new life to our world.” Once again the words were repeated in Gaelic, and they washed over the assembled crowd like a cool spring shower.
“Blessed Beltane, May Queen, mother of all nature. Your gifts do not go unnoticed and we are grateful for the magic with which you purify us.” This time, everyone repeated the phrase in Gaelic. The specific pronunciation didn’t matter, thankfully, only the intent behind the words. And Pansy reached within her core, touched the very essence of her magic, and spoke the words like they were a spell.
A wave of gasps and joyful exclamations washed over the crowd. Not everyone laced magic into their words by calling it within themselves, but those who were around a wix who had could feel the delicate tendrils of magic reaching out to weave with the rest. Percy and Neville squeezed her between them and kissed the crown of her head at the same time. Somehow, she could smell their musk and the earthiness that was just them , the private fragrance that normally filled their bedroom. It was utterly intoxicating, and Pansy squirmed on the spot.
Lady Magic really wanted her to shag tonight, bloody hell.
One at a time, each wix went to the altar to leave a flower or twig of hawthorn or rowan. The small mountain of wood and flower was then levitated to the bonfire and everyone sat around in preparation for the next part of the ritual. A squad of witches from every corner of the bonfire casted an incendio and in no time at all, the flames were dancing high up towards the stars.
The heat from the fire matched the warmth Pansy felt throughout her body. She was burning from the inside, set ablaze by the ritualistic magic and the promises for tonight. The flames were hypnotizing and alluring, calling out to her to join them in their worship of the Goddess.
Before she knew what she was doing, Pansy was on her feet and again following the rhythm of the same musicians as earlier today. Except this time, instead of a childlike tune to dance around the Maypole, the sultry cadence resonated down to her hips. Around her, other witches stood in front of their partners and performed a dance that was more instinct than learned steps. Pansy felt the fluidity in her hips, the ease with which her feet followed the beat. Her chest was burning with desire, mounting higher and higher with every passing minute. She was one with the bonfire, one with the other witches, one with the May Queen, one with nature itself. Pansy was Mother and Crone, Daughter and Wife. She was part of the Fae and of the mystical universe that existed between here and there.
At some point, she felt a pair of hands on her waist pulling her closer, and then she was dancing and twirling in her ivory robes between Percy and Neville. Pansy felt their eyes on her like soothing rivulets of water on a scorching day, yet she still burned and felt the fervour of a thousand stars washing through her. The music came from her bones, the melody from her beating heart. It was in her ears and in her head, beating against her ribs and flooding her pelvis with sensations.
It might have been an hour later, or a thousand years; Percy caught her right hand and Neville her left, and they found their way to the private altar Pansy had built earlier today. A blanket rested atop a bed made of hay, surrounded by thick hawthorn branches which were wove with dandelions and columbines. In the firelight, the yellow flowers looked alight with magic. Perhaps they were, she really wasn’t sure anymore. The divide between reality and another world, a purely magical world, was thinner than she’d ever experienced before.
“Pansy,” Percy whispered. He tugged her close to his chest and cupped her face with both hands. “Mine,” he growled before catching her lips in a searing kiss.
Percy’s lips were like water and she hung onto them like a dying witch. Behind her, Neville crowded her and began unbuttoning her robes. Every touch against her skin was overwhelming, bursting with so much pleasure she idly wondered how she would even survive the night. Neville’s steady fingers finally loosened the last button, the last bow, and her robes fell to the ground. As per tradition, she wore nothing beneath them, and so she stood in her purest form between her two lovers.
“Beautiful, love,” Neville murmured in her neck. He kissed her nape and nibbled on that tender spot between shoulder and neck.
Pansy gasped and squirmed between them, her body burning for more. Percy’s tongue mapped her mouth languorously while his hands traced the natural curves of her stomach, all the way to her breasts. He left trails of goosebumps, and just to push the sweet torture just a tad more, brushed the pads of his thumbs against her nipples. Pleasure shot through Pansy, and she moaned despite herself. Both wizards chuckled at her predicament, and their hands had soon covered every inch of her body.
A cleaning spell washed over her to dispel the day’s sweat and prepare her lower regions for lecherous attentions, and before Pansy knew what was happening, both of her lovers fell to their knees. She felt Neville’s breath on her arse and Percy’s breath on her cunt.
“Your prayers, love,” Neville reminded her.
Then, without warning, Percy hiked one leg over his shoulder and breathed so deeply that she felt the soft, short hair on her pubic mound flutter in the air.
“Hold on tight,” he ordered her before immediately sinking his tongue along her slit.
Pansy barely had time to cling on his head with one hand, while the other found Neville’s. The younger wizard wasn’t remaining on standby either; once Pansy was stable on her foot, he dove in too and ran his tongue along the cleft of her arse. The dual sensations made Pansy moan loudly, and it took Percy biting her inner thigh to remind her of her task.
“Yes, yes,” Pansy panted. She cleared her throat and let out another breathy moan when Percy rewarded her with a direct tongue flick on her clit. How she thought she’d be able to say the incantation with a tongue in her cunt and a second one in her arse, she wasn’t sure. But she was nothing if not determined.
“ Spring has come to the earth, the land is fertile and ready at Beltane, seeds will be sown, and new life will begin once more. ” Pansy interrupted her prayer with a loud moan. Percy added a finger to his oral ministrations, while Neville was spreading her arse cheeks apart to feast on her like she was his only sustenance. Natural wetness and their saliva slicked her thighs, their breaths only serving to fan the ravaging flames of desire.
Percy nipped her labia; right, the prayer.
“ Hail great gods of the land! ” Percy added a second finger, causing her inner walls to tighten around him. Sweat began to form at her lower back, and she wasn’t sure how long she’d last. His tongue and Neville’s tongue, both insistent and swirling around her sensitive flesh, were like focus points that addled her mind. “ Hail ,” she kept going a bit louder, “ Gods of resurrected life! Hail, Cernunnos, Osiris, Herne, and Bacchus! ”
Pansy let out a long, plaintive moan. Her body shook and just as her knee gave up supporting her, Percy placed her leg on his other shoulder. Together with Neville, he held her and continued to devour her cunt. Every word that followed was punctuated with a needy breath or moan or whimper. Pansy was quite positive this had become one very long orgasm.
“ Let the soil open up and mother earth’s fertile womb receive the seeds of life as we welcome the spring! ”.
On cue, as though Lady Magic herself had just been waiting for her to complete the incantation, a powerful throb of pleasure coursed through Pansy’s entire body. She shook and cried and gripped her lovers’ hair with dear life. Never before had she experienced an orgasm like this one, a magical climax that stole her breath away and revived her anew with spring air. It was inhuman, otherworldly, the most magical experience of her life.
When the shivers and shakes finally subsided, Neville lifted her from Percy’s shoulders and placed her on her side on the makeshift bed. Pansy felt pliant and soft and needy. She needed to be filled, she craved it like a plant craves the sun. She heard one of her bondeds whisper some spells, but even though she knew what they were from their prior planning sessions, she had no mind to pay attention to them.
“Please,” she begged them, “I need you. Please sir, please Nev.” She lifted a leg up, exposing herself — or perhaps offering herself, her mind supplied.
Neville got behind her and without any hesitation, he slipped two fingers into her arse. They were wet and silky, and in no time at all he was fucking her arse while she moaned wantonly. Percy was at her front, and because of their significant height differences, Pansy found herself trapped safely between two solid chests.
“Let’s get in position, love,” Neville whispered to her from behind.
Pansy nodded eagerly and followed them on her knees with renewed energy. They were both taller than her, so she let Percy lift her on his lap while Neville scooted in as close as he could behind her. His palms held onto her breasts and he tweaked her nipples, pinching particularly hard just as Percy pushed his prick inside her.
“Oh, fuck me,” Pansy groaned. They’d fucked countless times, but somehow this felt different, this felt so much more and Pansy let her body take over control.
It was an illusionary control, of course, because Percy’s hands were firmly on her hips and guiding her up and down, fast and slow, deep and shallow. It was maddening and Pansy would have complained if not for the fact that it felt bloody amazing. Her hips gyrated to Percy’s command, languid and hungry all at once.
“Your turn, Nev,” Percy groaned above her.
One of Neville’s hands left her breasts and snaked between their sweaty bodies, and he pushed two fingers with ease back into her arse. He fucked her fast and hard, a rapid staccato next to Percy’s controlled thrusts. A third finger joined the lot and Pansy barely felt any burn from the stretch. Rather, she leaned forward and against Percy’s chest, offering her arse to Neville. As though to reward her, Percy smacked her cheek and rubbed it affectionately. Pansy wasn’t sure she could get any wetter, but when Neville twisted her nipple and Percy dipped his hand frontward to thumb her clit, she knew she’d been wrong.
If this was what it felt like to reach the gods, Pansy would do it every year.
A second orgasm began to build rapidly, and even the familiar burn from Neville’s cock pushing through the tight ring of her arsehole wasn’t enough to dampen it. On the contrary, it stoked the flames higher and higher still, and Pansy was positive she’d lose her mind soon. The two wizards found their rhythm together, practiced like a well oiled machine, and now it was their time to offer a prayer to the gods watching them fuck.
“ God of green, Lord of the forest, I offer you my sacrifice. ” Percy started in a strained but clear voice. “ I ask you for your blessing. ”
“ You are the man in the trees, the green man of the woods, who brings life to the dawning spring. ” Neville grunted behind her, the lewd slapping of flesh against flesh punctuating every syllable. “ You are the deer in rut, mighty Horned One, who roams the autumn woods, the hunter circling round the oak, the antlers of the wild stag, and the lifeblood that spills upon the ground each season. ”
Pansy was now moaning with abandon. Her body was a bonfire, full of flowers and wood and burning everything around her. The columbine crown was crooked on her head and the magically protected flowers on her necklace bounced on her chest with every thrust. She was a fertile garden ready for her bonded’s seed, ready to carry life in her belly until next Beltane.
“ God of the green, Lord of the forest, I offer you my sacrifice. ” Percy moaned and dug his nails into Pansy’s hip. His thumb rubbed frantically on her clit and pleasure burst through Pansy like fireworks. She was coming and coming and coming and Percy was chanting with Neville as their thrusts got erratic and they chased their own pleasure. “ I ask you for your blessing! ”
Just as Percy and Neville blurted the last word of the chant, fire consumed them and the makeshift bed was set aflame. Pansy screamed her pleasure for the whole field to hear, for the world to know that she was blessed by Cernunnos and Osiris and Herne and Bacchus themselves. All of them, every single one, and Pansy felt the magic around them as though it were a living thing.
And perhaps it was, because they were still fucking through their combined climax as the world around them burned. The hawthorn branches and the dandelions and the columbines and the hay. All that remained were their naked, sweaty bodies and the blanket. They were covered in ash and soot, and Pansy was sure they could scorch the earth right this instant if they so wished.
It felt like hours, perhaps decades or mere minutes, until the flames disappeared and they were left kneeling on the blanket. Pansy had never felt as safe in her entire bloody life as she did right now, ensconced between Percy and Neville with their cocks inside her, filled with their come. The air smelled sweet like wild flowers and musky like sex. Petrichor mixed with the other earthy fragrances that reminded her of magic. They remained like this until she sagged against one or maybe both of them.
“Good girl,” Percy murmured into her hair.
Neville hummed in agreement and slowly pulled out of her. Percy followed suit and directed them to lie down on the blanket. She felt amazing, invigorated. Magic, raw and powerful, sang through her blood and around her womb. It was such a strange sensation, to feel the beginnings of conception, but it was the most basic human feeling there was. It was almost animal , and she wondered if her lovers felt the same. Perhaps she would ask them tomorrow.
“‘M tired,” she whispered. The surge of energy was giving way to bone-deep exhaustion, and now all she wanted to do was sleep.
“Sleep, love,” Neville reassured her. He summoned another blanket from somewhere and wrapped it around all three of them.
“Love you both,” she mumbled. Percy chuckled and kissed the top of her head while Neville pushed them closer together.
“Love you, Pans, Nev.” Percy reached over and squeezed Neville’s shoulder. “Sleep well.”
“Sweet dreams, my love. Percy too.” Neville’s chest rumbled in amusement against Pansy’s back.
With one last, deep breath, Pansy surrendered to slumber and dreamed of magical beings and Fae watching dutifully over them till Beltane had passed.