𝓡𝓔𝓒𝓞𝓡𝓓 𝓞𝓕 𝓡𝓐𝓖𝓝𝓐𝓡𝓞𝓚 × 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓𝓔𝓡 𝓞𝓝𝓔𝓢𝓗𝓞𝓣𝓢

CAUGHT BY THE MESSENGER

Hermes × {Name}

_______________

The grove was quiet, save for the rustle of leaves and the faint hum of cicadas. Moonlight spilled between branches, painting silver across {Name}’s skin as she moved toward him. Hermes waited, lounging against the rough bark of a tree, his tunic loosened just enough to reveal the sculpted lines of his chest. His eyes glowed with mischief and hunger.

“You came,” he murmured, pushing himself upright. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d resist me.”

She swallowed, her throat dry. “And if I tried?”

Hermes’ smile deepened as he closed the distance. “Then I would chase you… until you let me catch you.”

Her back pressed against the tree as he leaned in, his hands braced on either side of her. The air around them thickened. She could feel the warmth of him before his touch even came, his body humming with restless energy. When his fingers finally traced her arm, sliding slowly upward, it was like fire spreading under her skin.

“You tremble beautifully,” he whispered, his lips grazing her ear. “As if you already know you’re mine.”

His mouth captured hers, urgent and unrelenting. The kiss stole her breath, his tongue coaxing hers until she melted against him, her hands clutching at his shoulders. His body pressed hard to hers, every line of muscle and divine strength leaving no doubt of what he wanted.

She gasped when his lips trailed down to her neck, sucking softly, then harder, marking her as his. One hand cupped her waist, pulling her tighter, while the other slid lower, teasing the curve of her hip. Every touch was both a question and a promise, daring her to surrender completely.

“Say my name,” he demanded against her skin, voice roughened with desire.

“Hermes…” It slipped from her lips like a prayer, half-moan, half-confession.

The god groaned low, his mouth crashing back to hers, and in that moment the grove seemed to vanish. The world was only heat, desperate lips, wandering hands, and the undeniable pull between a mortal woman and the god who refused to let her go.

Hermes didn’t let her go. If anything, his hold only tightened, as if he feared she might vanish into mist if he loosened his grip. His kiss deepened, relentless, but threaded with an aching tenderness that made her knees weaken. She clung to him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his shoulders, half to steady herself and half because she could not bear the thought of breaking their contact.

The world outside the grove seemed to still, every sound muffled as though the night itself bent closer to listen. The cicadas quieted. Even the wind held its breath, letting the heavy silence settle around them, broken only by the hurried rhythm of two hearts beating in time.

Hermes’ lips traveled from her mouth to the hollow of her throat, grazing the delicate skin there with reverence. “Do you know what you do to me?” he murmured, voice husky, vibrating against her pulse. “Even the gods are not immune to desire… and you, little mortal, undo me with a single glance.”

His words poured into her like molten fire, both terrifying and intoxicating. She had always known of him—the trickster, the messenger, the one who moved between worlds with ease. But here, in the curve of his arms, he was not distant myth but flesh and heat, breath and longing.

Her voice trembled when she answered. “Then why chase me, Hermes, if desire makes even gods falter?”

He pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. The moonlight caught his gaze, turning it molten gold. “Because,” he said slowly, savoring the confession, “you make me forget to be clever. And I would rather be yours for one night of honesty than a god of ten thousand deceptions.”

Her chest tightened at his words, her resistance crumbling. She reached for him, cupping his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing against the stubble of his jaw. “Then stop talking,” she whispered, pulling him into another kiss, fiercer than the last.

Hermes growled low in his throat, a sound that sent shivers racing through her. His hands slid down the curve of her body, lingering at her waist before traveling further, mapping her as if memorizing every line. She felt the press of him, solid and unyielding, his body a force of nature wrapped in divine skin.

The tree bark bit lightly into her back, grounding her even as Hermes’ presence threatened to sweep her away. She was caught between earth and god, mortal and immortal, and she realized with startling clarity that she did not want to escape.

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