the son of Hermes was usually all about taking charge, eager to show you a good time all the god-damn time. and it's not like he wasn't good at it either, honestly. he'd always leave you satisfied and eager for more.

but gods, he'd be lying if he didn't say he was enjoying that little show you were putting on just for him. pink glittery cowboy hat prettily sat on top of your head, thighs on either side of him as you were straddling his lap and his wrist bound to the headboard with "fuck―" fuzzy pink handcuffs...

"come on princess," the metal rattled against the headboard with a sigh of his as he tried to get it loose, "y'know you won't go through with that. hm?"

but your cute little giggling noises made him overthink that statement again. maybe you actually were going to go through with that...