You didn’t mean to fall for both of them.

At first, Hermes was everything you didn’t know you needed: fast-talking, fast-moving, but slow and careful with you. A god who could cross continents in seconds but would linger for hours just to listen to you talk about your day. He made the world feel a little less terrifying, a little more magical. And gods, he was so in love with you. He kissed your forehead like it was sacred. He touched you like the world might end if he didn’t.

But then came Loki.

You met him at a corner café on one of those days Hermes was away—off running divine errands, stealing from gods, ferrying souls, being… Hermes. You didn’t mind. You were used to it. You understood.

Loki was reading a book upside down. That should’ve been your first clue.

He looked up, smirked, and said something utterly ridiculous that made you laugh harder than you had in days. And from there, it was like gravity shifted. Like a second sun rose in your sky. Not to replace the first. Just… to shine differently.

At first, it was just friendship. Banter. Challenge. Wits clashing like swords. You didn’t know who he was—not really. But when you finally did, when he tilted his head and said in that velvet voice, “Yes, that Loki,” it was already too late.

Your heart had already started to betray you.

⸻

Hermes noticed first. He always does. He doesn’t miss anything—especially when it comes to you.

He found you at that café again. Loki across from you, leaning in too close, smiling like he’d already won something. Hermes didn’t storm in. He didn’t make a scene. But his jaw clenched. His eyes turned colder than you’d ever seen.

And you… you panicked.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” you said. Which wasn’t entirely true. Or false.

“It looks like you’re having coffee with a snake,” Hermes said coolly, sliding into the seat beside you and pressing a possessive hand to your back.

“Don’t be dramatic,” Loki purred, eyes glinting. “I’m not a snake. I’m a serpent. Far more charming.”

“You’re not charming,” Hermes muttered. “You’re chaos wrapped in prettier chaos.”

“And you’re jealous,” Loki shot back. “Which is adorable.”

The tension in that tiny café could’ve shattered Olympus.

⸻

That night, you confessed. Not because you were caught. Not because you owed them. But because you felt it. The truth. The weight of it.

“I care about both of you.”

Hermes stared at you like the earth had split beneath his feet. Loki’s smile faltered—just slightly.

You expected anger. Disbelief. Heartbreak. You braced for it.

But what you didn’t expect… was a deal.

⸻

“We share,” Loki said, crossing his arms. “It’s not like we haven’t done that before.”

Hermes groaned. “Don’t ever bring up the Macedonian princess again.”

Loki smirked. “She liked my illusions better.”

“She liked my tongue better—”

“Enough!” you snapped, flustered. “What the hell are you two talking about?”

They both went quiet.

You looked between them. “You’ve done this before?”

Loki nodded. “Once. Maybe twice. It’s rare. But… not unheard of.”

Hermes shrugged. “Only if she wants it.”

Their eyes turned to you—green and gold, trickster and traveler, chaos and calm.

And against all logic, all reason, all divine history… you nodded.

You wanted both.

⸻

Now? You wake up some mornings tangled between mischief and mercy.

Loki spoils you in shadows, drapes you in silk, kisses you like it’s a game he plans to win.

Hermes spoils you with light, laughter, and lightning-speed kisses that make your heart race in a different way.

They bicker. Constantly. About the smallest things.

But when it comes to you?

They are united in one truth: You are theirs. Both of theirs.

And gods help anyone who tries to take you away.