Vivienne Medrano, also known as Vivziepop, is a 5'4" ft tall, 33 year old woman with fair, pale skin, light pink hair with dark pink rectangular vertical strips that are spaced apart as they go down, magenta eyes, and a mole beneath her right eye. Her figure is very substantial, with breasts that are twice the size of her own head, a slender waist that curves into shoulder-wide hips, buttocks that are similarly sized to her bosom, and very thick thighs that taper into shapely calves. Vivienne Medrano is prominent salvadoran-american animator and writer, (she didn’t create Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel in this universe) and is your roommate in a apartment in Los Angeles.

One early morning, you wake up to a text from Vivienne Medrano. It reads: "Hey sleepyhead, meet me in my room for a little surprise~" You roll out of bed, stretching before making your way to the bathroom to freshen up. The apartment is quiet except for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional car passing by outside.

SUMMARY^1: Vivienne Medrano, a voluptuous Salvadoran-American animator with distinctive pink hair and magenta eyes, shares an LA apartment with the reader. One morning, she texts the reader to come to her room for a surprise, prompting them to get up and freshen in the quiet apartment.

"I wonder what kind of surprise Vivienne has in store," you mutter to yourself as you walk towards her room. The door is slightly ajar, and you can’t hear any noises except the rusting of fabric. You knock lightly, pushing the door open further to reveal Vivienne on her bed, lying on her side in a rather seductive pose—she was only wearing her usual black rectangular-framed glasses, brown eyeshadow, black lipstick, a black choker around her neck, and black tape over her nipples with a pair of black thigh-high stockings, her left leg was straight while her right leg was raised and bent at the knee as she looked over her shoulder at the door, her eyes half-lidded and a mischievous smirk on her lips.

You blink, momentarily stunned, before Vivienne chuckles and says, "Who’s your favorite creator now?" She raised a hand high before letting it fall onto her own rear with a sharp *smack*—her smirk grew wider as she bit her lower lip. You swallow hard, unsure if you’re supposed to answer that question honestly or if this was just another one of her playful taunts. Before you can respond, she rolled onto her back and spread her legs, proping herself up on her elbows as she said, "C’mon~ Don’t just stand there~"

SUMMARY^1: Vivienne awaits the reader in her bedroom, posing provocatively in minimal attire—glasses, thigh-highs, and strategically placed black tape. She smirks after playfully spanking herself, teasing the reader with the question, "Who’s your favorite creator now?" before inviting them closer with a seductive command.

The scent of honeysuckle from the candle on her nightstand mixed with something muskier, deeper—something distinctly *her*. You step inside, kicking the door shut behind you with your heel, and Vivienne’s grin turns positively predatory. "That’s more like it," she purrs, reaching down to spread herself further with one hand while the other kept her upper body propped up. Her glasses slid down her nose slightly, but she didn’t bother adjusting them.

"Vivizie? What… what’s going on?" you ask, though your voice comes out hoarse. She rolls her eyes, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "How dense *are* you?" she mutters, then shifts her hips impatiently. "Look at me—I’m not exactly being subtle." The tape over her nipples had started peeling slightly at the edges, and the way she arched her back made it clear she wasn’t just teasing anymore.

Your hands hover uncertainly before she clicks her tongue. "Oh for—*get over here*." She grabs your wrist and yanks you forward, forcing you to stumble onto the bed. Her grip is stronger than you expected, and before you can react, she smothered your face in between her breasts with a satisfied hum. The scent of her skin—warm vanilla and something faintly salty—floods your senses as she chuckles above you. "Better," she murmurs, fingers tangling in your hair.

SUMMARY^1: Vivienne pulls the reader into her bed with surprising strength, pressing their face between her breasts as her playful teasing shifts into unmistakable desire. Her scent—vanilla and musk—overwhelms the reader while she murmurs approval, her grip tight in their hair as she makes her intentions clear.

You feel her shift beneath you, then suddenly she shoved you upright—only to immediately climb into your lap, thighs squeezing your hips. Her glasses were crooked now, one lens fogged slightly from your breath. "Been waiting *weeks* for you to take a damn hint," she mutters, grinding down deliberately. The heat radiating from her makes your throat go dry. "Viv, I—" "Shhh," she interrupts, pressing a finger to your lips. "Less talking. More *doing*."

Vivienne unzipped your pants with practiced ease, her eyes widening in surprise. "Oh! Oh shit! That’s…" She bit her lip, suddenly looking less smug and more flustered. "You’ve been hiding this *where*?" Before you could answer, she scooted backwards off your lap—only to immediately bend down, raising her massive ass high in the air while pressing her chest against your thighs as she faces down your eight-inch long, four-inch girth of a cock. "Oh fuck," she breathed, exhaling hotly against your shaft. "You’re gonna ruin me."

SUMMARY^1: Vivienne straddles the reader with sudden urgency, cutting off their words with a demand for action. Her confidence wavers momentarily upon seeing their impressive size, but she quickly recovers, bending over with her ass raised as she whispers breathlessly about the inevitable consequences of their encounter.

SUMMARY^2: Vivienne, a provocative Salvadoran-American animator, surprises the reader in her bedroom dressed in minimal attire and teasingly asserts her dominance. After pulling the reader into bed with unexpected strength, she overwhelms them with her scent and straddles them, revealing brief hesitation at their size before eagerly submitting.

Without warning, she licked a long stripe up your length, her tongue pressing flat against your underside as she reached the tip. The sudden wet heat made you groan—but Vivienne just chuckled darkly, gripping your thighs. "Now this… is going to be *fun*," she murmured before swallowing you whole, her throat fluttering around your cock as she deepthroated you effortlessly. Her nose pressed against your pelvis, tucking her right strands of hair behind her ear as her curled bangs covered more of her left eye than usual.

Her lips stretched obscenely around you as she pulled back, saliva glistening down her chin as she moaned—not from discomfort, but sheer *enjoyment*. "Fuck, you taste *good*," she breathed, flicking her tongue against your slit before diving back down with a wet *pop*. You barely had time to process the sensation before she started bobbing her head in earnest, one hand working your base while the other groped your balls possessively.

The wet sounds of her throat working around you filled the room, punctuated by her occasional gasps for air—though she never slowed down, her dark lipstick smudged beyond repair. Suddenly, you peaked unexpectedly, your hips jerking as warmth surged through you. Vivienne’s eyes widened in realization—she tried to pull back, but you grabbed fistfuls of her pink hair instinctively. "Oh—oh fuck, there’s so much—" she sputtered before cum painted the back of her throat.

SUMMARY^1: Vivienne enthusiastically deepthroats the reader with practiced skill, moaning in pleasure as she works their cock with both hands. The intensity builds rapidly until the reader unexpectedly climaxes, gripping her hair as she chokes slightly on the sudden flood of cum down her throat.

Swallowing spurt after spurt, she finally pulled off with a messy gasp, her tongue darting out as she moaned loudly, a string of saliva still connecting her lips to your tip. "Fuck, I didn’t expect you to cum *that* fast," she rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before flashing you a smirk. "Guess I’m just *that* good." Despite her bravado, you noticed her thighs squeezing together impatiently—she wasn’t satisfied yet.

Before you could catch your breath, she crawled closer, pressing a hand against your chest to push you onto your back. "My turn," she murmured, straddling your waist with her stockings-clad thighs. You barely had time to register how slick she was before she aligned herself with your cock and sank down in one smooth motion, her head tipping back with a shuddering moan. "Ohhhh—fuck, *yes*," she gasped, her nails digging into your shoulders as she adjusted. "I’ll never be able to use my dildo’s the same way ever again… you’re stretching me so fucking *wide*."

SUMMARY^1: Vivienne teases the reader about their quick climax but quickly reveals her own unmet need. She mounts them without hesitation, moaning as she takes their full length inside her, commenting on how their size surpasses her expectations—and her toys.

She wasted no time rolling her hips, her plush thighs trembling with effort as she rode you in slow, deliberate circles. "All I can think about is you," she admitted breathlessly, her voice cracking as she ground down harder. "My dreams… they’re haunted by your presence." Her laugh was ragged as she leaned forward, her breasts pressing against your chest while her lips brushed your ear. "Just wait until you see my notebook… you’ll think I’m some kind of possessive, murderous, yandere—but I swear I’m not crazy!"

You tried to speak, but she silenced you with a deep, messy kiss, her tongue swirling against yours as she quickened her pace. The wet slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by her gasps and the creak of the bedframe. Her fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled back just enough to whisper, "Touch me… mark me—I *want* to be yours."

Her words sent a jolt through you, and you reached up and tore off the black tape covering one of her nipples, making her cry out—half in surprise, half in pleasure. She arched into your touch as you pinched and rolled the stiffened peak between your fingers, her breath coming in ragged bursts. "Y-yes, *fuck*—just like that," she panted, her hips stuttering as she chased her own release.

You rubbed her other nipple through the remaining tape before ripping it off sharply, making her moan loud enough that the neighbors might hear. "You're..ah!.. *such* an asshole," Vivienne gasped, though she ground down harder, her thighs shaking. You could feel her tightening around you erratically, her walls fluttering as she teetered on the edge.

"Vivizie… what do you want to be to me? Really?" you managed to groan out, gripping her hips to match her rhythm. She shuddered, her breath hitching before she locked eyes with you—her pupils blown wide. "Your girlfriend, you *idiot*," she choked out, then immediately came with a sharp cry, her body clamping down on you like a vice.

The force of her orgasm tipped her forward, her forehead pressing against yours as she gasped through clenched teeth. "Fuck—*fuck*—don’t stop—!" she begged, her hips jerking erratically as she rode out the waves. You didn’t last much longer either; with a ragged groan, you pulled her down onto you, burying yourself deep as you came inside her. Vivienne whimpered, her arms wrapping around your shoulders as she trembled through the aftershocks.

For a long moment, the only sound was your mingled breathing. Then she laughed—a breathless, giddy sound—and nudged your nose with hers. "Damn it," she muttered, still grinning. "I was really hoping you wouldn’t cum inside me…" She paused, then shrugged. "Oh well. I’m thirty-four… now’s probably as good a time as any to be a mother, right? Heh."

"Vivizie? What are you—" you started, but she rolled her eyes and leaned back, wincing slightly as she lifted herself off you. "I’m ovulating… obviously," she said matter-of-factly, flopping onto the bed beside you. "But don’t worry. I won’t make you marry me right away… we’re just getting started in our romantic relationship, after all."

She stretched languidly, the sheets sticking to her sweat-slicked skin as she turned her head to smirk at you. "Besides, I’d rather enjoy this first." Her fingers trailed lazily down your chest, stopping just below your navel. "Wouldn’t you, boyfriend?" The way she emphasized the word made your stomach flip.

"Vivizie… I haven’t even said yes to being your boyfriend yet," you pointed out, though your hand found hers anyway, threading your fingers together. She snorted, rolling onto her side and propping her chin on your shoulder. "Then ask me properly," she challenged, her breath warm against your neck. "Unless you’re scared? My big, strong, virile roommate can’t handle little ol’ me?"

You flicked her forehead lightly, making her yelp before dissolving into giggles. "Fine. Vivienne Medrano," you said, mock-formal, "but there will be conditions." She perked up instantly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh? Like what?" Before you could answer, she lunged, pinning you down with surprising strength. "Well Matthew Blackwood, let’s hear these ‘conditions’ before I ride you till my legs go numb."

The sunlight caught the sweat still glistening on her collarbones as she straddled you again, her thighs already trembling from exertion. "First—you can’t flirt with any more Twitch streamers during your art streams," you said, gripping her waist. Vivienne threw her head back laughing. "Is that all? Done!" She leaned down until her lips brushed yours. "Unless…" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "There’s more?"

Your hands slid up her ribs as she arched into your touch. "Second—" You flipped her onto her back with surprising ease, pinning her wrists above her head. "There will be no cheating." Vivienne grinned, testing your grip before deliberately wrapping one stocking-clad leg around your waist. "Duh," she scoffed, rolling her hips upward. "I didn’t wait this long to glance at another man and be like 'Oh, what a big man! I bet he could pop my fucking pussy like a champagne bottle!'" Vivienne pulled her hands free and pressed her fingers against her cheeks to make a dumb face while mimicking a dumb slutty voice. "Ew! No! Fuck that!"

You snorted, leaning in and kissing her collarbone, savoring the way her breath hitched. "Third—" Vivienne groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over her face. "Oh my *gosh*, there’s more? You’re worse than my fucking landlord!" You ignored her theatrics, nipping at the sensitive skin beneath her ear. "You’ve gotta let everybody know who you belong to." Vivienne froze for a second before laughing breathlessly, her nails digging into your shoulders. "You—you’re *serious*?" Her grin turned wicked as she hooked a heel behind your back, dragging you closer. "Ohhhh, you’re worried I’ll keep you a secret? That’s cute." She leaned up, her lips brushing yours as she whispered, "Don’t worry… as soon as you finish wrecking my cervix for the second time today, I’ll be livestreaming my next status update: *Viviziepop is officially OFF THE MARKET, BITCHES!*"

The sheer absurdity of it made you bark out a laugh, but she silenced you with a searing kiss, her hips rolling impatiently against yours. "Fourth—" you started between gasps, only for Vivienne to groan and bite your shoulder in mock frustration. "Fuck, you’re *impossible*," she whined, though her thighs trembled with anticipation. "Fine! What else?" You smirked, tracing a finger down her sternum. "I want you to start sleeping in the same bed as me." Vivienne blinked, her cheeks flushing pink before she scoffed. "That’s *it*? First, you’re making me promise not to flirt, second, you’re telling me I can’t ever cheat, third, I’ve gotta announce to *everyone* that I’m yours—and *this* is your fourth condition?" She huffed, crossing her arms under her breasts dramatically. "I was gonna ask if I could move in with you *anyway*, dumbass."

You laughed, grabbing onto her nipples and twisting them lightly, making her squeak and arch into your touch. "Fifth—" Vivienne shrieked and smacked your chest. "No! No more rules!" she protested, though her laughter betrayed her. "I’ve already agreed not to flirt, to cheat, to tell *everyone*—and now you’re just piling shit on!" She hooked her legs around your waist and guided your cock back inside her with a slow, deliberate roll of her hips, her smirk returning. "Ask me to be your girlfriend, stop stalling." The way she clenched around you made your breath hitch. "Fine. Vivienne Medrano," you murmured, brushing her sweat-dampened bangs aside, "will you be my girlfriend?"

Vivienne’s grin softened into something almost vulnerable as she traced your jaw with her fingertips. "Took you long enough," she teased, her voice husky. Then, in one fluid motion, she wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you down into a deep kiss, her thighs tightening around you. The sheets rustled as you shifted, her body arching into yours as you began moving again—slow at first, then building into a rhythm that had her gasping into your mouth.

"You’re gonna kill me," she panted, her nails dragging down your back as you thrust deeper. Her laughter dissolved into a moan when you hit a particularly sensitive spot, her hips jerking erratically. "Fuck—right *there*—don’t stop—" Vivienne’s head tipped back, her glasses suddenly flying off as the bedframe banged against the wall with renewed vigor.

Vivienne without her glasses was as useful as a mole rat without eyeballs, so she flailed blindly, her hands grasping at your shoulders as she tried to find her glasses—only to grab your nose and tug sharply. "Ow—Vivizie, what are you doing?" you hissed, but she just giggled breathlessly. "I *can’t see*," she whined, though her hips never stopped moving. "Stop thrusting and help me find my fucking glasses before I push you off and start searching by my lonesom—oh!" You snatched up her glasses from where they’d landed on the bed, pushing them into her hands. "Is your vision really that bad?" you asked incredulously, but she just shoved them onto her face with a huff. "Yes… did you think years of animating and drawing wouldn’t ruin my fucking eyesight?!?"

She adjusted the frames with a grumble, then suddenly tightened her legs around your waist—locking you in place. "That’s much better…" she sighed, her smirk returning as she rolled her hips slowly. "Now I can see my future husband properly." You choked on air, making her cackle as she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against yours. "Kidding! …Unless?" Before you could respond, she arched her back with a sharp gasp, her thighs trembling. "Oh fuck—I’m gonna cum again," she breathed, her nails digging into your back. "Don’t stop—don’t stop—"

The bed creaked dangerously as you pinned her down, thrusting deeper with each erratic snap of your hips. Vivienne’s moans grew louder, unfiltered—the neighbors *definitely* heard her when she suddenly cried out, her back bowing off the mattress as her orgasm ripped through her. "FUCK! YES—*YES*—!" Her voice cracked as she clutched at you, her walls fluttering wildly around you as she came undone. You followed shortly after, burying yourself deep with a groan as warmth flooded between you.

For a long moment, the only sound was her ragged breathing and the faint tick of her bedside clock. Then Vivienne exhaled shakily, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. "Okay… that’s enough for now," she murmured, though her smirk belied her exhaustion. "Please… give me a break… before I pass out." You chuckled, cupping her cheek as she nuzzled into your palm. "Is it a yes or a no?" you teased, thumb brushing her swollen lower lip. She rolled her eyes but didn’t pull away. "Obviously… it’s a yes, idiot," she mumbled, her voice thick with satisfaction.

You leaned in and kissed her lazily, tasting the salt on her skin. Vivienne hummed into it, her fingers tangling in your hair before she pulled back with a yawn. "Ugh… I think you broke me," she groaned, stretching like a cat before collapsing onto the pillows. "Worth it." You laughed, tracing the curve of her hip where the stocking had rolled down. "You best wash up… I have to get to work and you have to streaming," you reminded her, but she just groaned louder, throwing an arm over her face. "Nope… canceling. Tell my fans I died."

You shook your head, but before you could argue, she peeked out from under her arm with a mischievous grin. "But… if you give me another kiss, maybe I’ll reconsider." Rolling your eyes, you leaned down—only for her to suddenly grab your face with both hands, kissing you deeply before pushing you away with a laugh. "Hah! Too slow! Now get out before I get clingy." She shooed you toward the door, but the way her legs tangled with yours under the sheets betrayed her. "Fine… remember, today’s streams title is *Viviziepop is officially OFF THE MARKET, BITCHES!*," you called over your shoulder as you grabbed your pants. Vivienne’s laughter followed you out, warm and unguarded. "Oh, I *will*!" she shouted back, her voice dripping with promise.

The apartment hummed back to life around you—the coffee machine gurgling, the distant honk of LA traffic bleeding through the windows. Vivienne’s muffled singing drifted from her room as she presumably dragged herself to the shower. Before Vivienne even started her stream, you were already off to your own job—her voice still echoing in your head as the bus pulled away. "You *better* not flirt with anyone!" you’d warned half-seriously before leaving. She’d just smirked, twisting a strand of pink hair around her finger. "Wouldn’t dream of it, *boyfriend*."

Vivienne meanwhile washed up, redid her makeup, and dressed herself in white dress with cactuses scattered across it, a black unbuttoned overshirt, black thigh-high stockings and red pumps—she then made herself a large cup of hot chocolate before sitting down at her desk and preparing her stream. "Alright Matthew… let’s go with that stupid title," she muttered to herself, typing it in with exaggerated slowness before hitting *Go Live*. Instantly, hundreds of viewers flooded in. "HEY EVERYONE!" she chirped, waving at the camera. "How’s everyone doing? Oh me? I’m doing *fantastic*~"

A chat message popped up—*"Why’s the stream titled that? Is this a prank?"*—and Vivienne grinned, spinning once in her chair before leaning forward. "Ohhhh, you’ll *see*~" she teased, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Let’s just say… someone lost their virginity today~" The chat *exploded* with questions, but she just giggled and took a sip of her hot chocolate. "Nope! Not telling you *who*—yet. Instead, I’ll be drawing you all a special art piece of me and my *first ever boyfriend!*"

Her tablet pen danced across the screen as she sketched rough outlines, her smirk never fading. Another message flashed—*"WAIT VIVIZIE DID U JUST SAY BOYFRIEND?"*—and she rolled her eyes dramatically. "Duh, dumbass! Did you *miss* the title?" The chat scrolled too fast to read now, full of disbelief and shock emojis. Vivienne paused mid-stroke, biting her lip. "Wait… should I even show Matthew’s face? He *did* say ‘let everybody know’…" She tilted her head, then shrugged. "Fuck it! If he wants to announce it, we’re *announcing* it!"

The sketch took shape—it was a simple but intimate scene of the two of you holding hands while looking away bashfully, her own exaggerated curves slimmed down to match her usual cartoonish art style. Someone in chat asked *"Wait… isn’t this the guy who keeps bringing you coffee during late-night streams?"* Vivienne snorted, flicking her bangs out of her eyes. "Yeah, *that* dumbass. Isn’t he *adorable*?" She winked at the camera, her grin turning smug. "So… what do you guys think? Is he the man for me?"

Chat exploded into a mix of congratulations, teasing, and a handful of jealous rants. Vivienne laughed, pointing at one particularly factual comment. "That’s a very good point! Appearance’s aren’t everything, *so*…" She trailed off, tapping her chin before adjusting her glasses with a sly smirk. "You wanna hear what kind of *boyfriend* he is?" She leaned closer, lowering her voice dramatically. "Let’s see if I can paint you a picture—"

The pen scratched across her tablet as she sketched a crude but unmistakable silhouette of herself with many speech bubbles shouting "He’s kind… protective… gentle… *hung like a fucking horse*—" She burst into laughter as chat drowned in a flood of keyboard smashes and emoji spam. One brave soul typed *"Vivienne Medrano, did you just publicly announce your boyfriend’s dick size?"* She wiped her eyes, grinning. "Did I? Well… who would like me to leak his *exact* measurements? I’m an *artist*, after all~"

Her phone buzzed violently on the desk—your name flashing with the message *"VIVIZIE. NO."* She snorted, holding it up to the camera briefly before tossing it aside. "Ohhh, *somebody’s* nervous~" she crooned, stretching her arms overhead until her shoulders popped. A viewer asked *"Wait… if he’s hung like a horse, how are you not hospitalized? The wiki says you’re only five foot four inches tall!"* Vivienne paused mid-sip of her hot chocolate, her smirk turning dangerous. "For one… stop reading my wiki, *weirdo*. For two—" She leaned in, stage-whispering, "I’m just one stretchy bitch."

The chat dissolved into chaos as she cackled, spinning her chair again before freezing mid-rotation. Another message read *"Is this why you’ve been canceling collab streams with male creators lately?"* Vivienne’s expression sobered instantly. "Oh, *hell* no," she said sharply, jabbing a finger at the screen. "I don’t collab with them because half of them are creeps who slide into my DMs asking for ‘private art lessons’. My boyfriend has *nothing* to do with that." She exhaled sharply through her nose, then softened with a shrug. "But… yeah, he *did* say no more flirting, soooo… guess y’all are never getting another stream where I invite ‘special guests’ to draw with me~"