Ᏻ𝑬𞋎𝓸

Not only is Richie obsessed with your thighs but he's also obsessed with your tits.

•He loves it when you're wearing that top that hugs them just right. When you bend over his eyes fall to your cleavage. His cock getting hard at the sight

“Look at those gorgeous tits” He whispers in your ear after you stand back up, his hand resting on the side of your breast. You slap his hand away playfully. “Richie…not here. We are in public.” You scold him with a chuckle.

•He squeezes and kneeds them as you ride his cock. He loves the way they bounce as you slide up and down his shaft. 

“fuckin’ hell babe. Ridin’ my cock like a good girl. Your perfect tits bouncing in my face.” he growls as he watches you, his beautiful blue eyes wide with wonder.

•He licks, sucks, and bites your tits. His expert mouth sucking on your hard nipples. Coaxing out moans as sighs from you as he sucks, and licks nips. 

“Mmmmm yes. You like that dirty girl. You like it when I suck on these tits. Want to mark them up with my mouth, hmm?” He asks with a husky voice. 

•He loves to slide his big cock between your tits. Your breast squeezed around his shaft as he thrust his hips. He rubs the tip of his cock over your nipples.

“You like watching me fuck these titties” He growls. “Look how they squeeze around me cock so well” He rumbles as he squeezes your breast around his cock.

•Of course he's always got to cum all over your tits. He loves seeing his release painted all over them. The way his cum drips down them, marking you as his.

“Fuck look at that..” he purrs. He runs his fingers along your breast, gathering some of his release. His thick finger slides in your mouth. “Clean my cum off fingers baby girl..” he whispers as you suck off his salty essence. 

•Richie goes absolutely mad when he notices you're not wearing a bra under your dress for the taste of Chicago awards. Standing beside you he notices the way your nipples are hard underneath the fabric off your dress. 

“Are you braless?” He asked, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You look over at him and give him a wink. He takes a sharp exhale. “Fuck…babe. You're a little tease.” He growls as his hand palms your breast. “Richie…we aren't alone.” You warn as you look around the room at other attendees. “Then follow me sweetheart.” He smirks as he grabs your hand and leads you to the bathroom. 

He wastes no time once you arrive in the bathroom. You're against his chest, his greedy hands pulling down the straps of your dress. The hardness of his cock pressing against your ass through his suit pants. “You've made me rock hard all night…you know how hard it is to conceal a hard on with this fat cock?” He whispers against the shell of your ear while he pinches your bare nipples. “I can't wait to fuck your pretty pussy.” He growls as he gathers the fabric of your dress. Your heart racing at his declaration, wetness gathering in your panties, ready and wanting. “Yes, Richie.” You moan. A million times yes. 

You glanced down at your phone, a severe weather alert popping up on screen. "Great, five to six inches of snow tomorrow" you grumbled. Chicago winters were the worst, especially with the lake effect.

Richie glanced over at you while smoking his cigarette. "Sounds like a good time to me. We'll be snowed in babe." He said with his boyish smirk. "And you'll drive me absolutely nuts." You teased. The snow storm would give you a chance to catch up on reading, and other tasks that you've neglected.

You suddenly felt Richie's presence engulfed you. His breath tickled the shell of your ear. The smell of cigarettes, and a scent that was earthy and masculine heightened your senses. "I can give you more than six inches. Try closer to nine." He whispered seductively. Heat rose to your cheeks. You glanced down to see him adjust his cock in his track pants, that left little to the imagination. He was big and he never let you forget it. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his lude remarks and act. "Oh come on babe..ya know ya like it." He purred as he ran his nose down the side of your neck. You rolled your eyes appearing to be annoyed, but the dampness in your panties was persistent whenever he was like this, which was a lot. Mischief danced in his ice blue eyes. "I rather like the idea of being snowed in with you all week. Plus as the weather said...we are expecting eight inches, but you and I both know there will be more. I'll be buried deep." You felt the hardness of his press against your thigh. Fuck...you wanted those inches right now. All nine inside of you.

“Sit up, sweetheart.” “Uncross your legs.” “Laptop higher.” “Relax your jaw.” 

He knows he’s a perpetual nuisance, aware he sounds like someone’s dad, can practically hear the eye-roll you swallow every time. 

He also knows it embarrasses you, especially at work, where your face goes warm when he corrects you within earshot of other people. And it isn’t that he sets out to make you squirm, though he’d be lying if he said he got nothing out of that quick little fluster he can pull from you with a word, a hand, a look. 

It’s just that once he notices you folded in on yourself for too long, something in him firms. His voice drops into that clipped, authoritative register, flipping a switch to brisk certainty and command, and by then it’s already too late to pretend you’re not going to listen. 

So when he catches you slouched at the station again, practically kissing the monitor, he doesn’t hesitate.

Steps in behind you. His palm fits against the ridge of your upper back, heat seeping straight through the thin cotton.

“Up.”

You mutter, “I hate you,” eyes never leaving the vitals grid, and Jack takes it as the green light it is.

His thumb glides from back to shoulder to nape. The opposite hand curves under your jaw’s hinge, guiding your head until your spine clicks back to neutral while the entire nurses’ station pretends their screens are riveting. 

Public proof that your posture, and maybe the rest of you, answers to Dr. Abbot’s touch far faster than to your own irritation. 

“There’s a whole skeleton under all that,” he observes dryly. “Try using it.”

You bat at his hand, a half-hearted slap. “Stop manhandling me at work.”

He ignores that, drops the chair one notch (ignoring your surprised squeak too), angles the monitor to proper eye level, then squares your shoulders with both palms. A measured squeeze follows, equal parts reassurance and warning.

“Better,” he decides. “And if I catch you bent over that phone again, I’m taking it.”

He likes the line of you best when he’s the one arranging it. 

You figure that out later, breathless and flushed, forehead buried in his sheets while he kneels behind you, two sure hands repositioning your ass in the air like he’s smoothing kinks from an instrument only he can tune.

“Uh-uh,” he grunts, and you’re too far gone to know what he means until his palm presses between your shoulder blades and eases you down, down, down, your hips staying high as your face sinks into the pillow. “Arch for me — c’mon, deeper bend, don’t cheat your lower back.” 

Your breath catches when he palms the dip he’s just created, fingers splaying and then he’s sliding his cock in your folds slow. It earns a pleased mewl from you, angle perfect because he’s engineered it that way. 

Every push has a tiny corrective tap — shoulders down, knees wider, perfect girl — until your pussy clenches and drips all over his rigid stomach and he finally lets you break form, hips snapping while his palm settles, triumphant, at the very spot that first straightened you hours ago.

MARIA NOTE hello this is my trying out little blurbs/drabbles bc this random thought rlly evoked something in me... don't know how to feel it ab. it feels naked without my fun graphics but alas! and the tiny text??? what do we think?? yes or no i'm in the middle right now so feel free to share opinions... it looked a little strange as regular but idk i'm lowkey having an existential crisis over this ok bye