“Cupcake, h-hold still.” Vi whispers out, breathlessly, as if you could move in the first place.

The last hour had been filled by pleasured screams and touches, evidenced by the splotches of purple that adorn your neck - Vi’s way of showing off. That she made you unable to even walk.

That strap was practically part of you now, and Vi wasn’t intent on changing that. Her laboured breaths lie on your neck, faded pink hair tickles your face.

“Okay. Yeah, cupcake, I’m gonna move now.” Vi whispers out, sending another quake through your legs.