Peter,,,,fucking Steve’s pecs. Like. Steve pushes them together. To fuck. That’s it.
holy fuck yes ur fucking mind omg
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I want Peter who's shy, always pouting and whining and blushing when he fucks Steve's pecs because it's humiliating; he doesn't know why he feels that way because it’s Steve who suggested it first, but it's embarrassing, having to look Steve in the eye while the man watches his cock drool over his chest with a hungry look in his eyes.
I want Peter who blushes oh-so-pretty when Steve croons sweet, dirty things to him; sometimes, there's such a sharp contrast between what he says in the same breath ("Oh, you're doing so good, baby, so pretty." "Look at'chu, can't even do anything but make cock-stupid noises for me; that's what you are, aren’t you, honey? Say yes.") that it makes Peter paint Steve's chest white before he can even gasp out a warning.
I want Steve to make Peter come all over his chest while he holds them together for him, praising him and telling him he's being so good, so filthy, so needy, only to pull his head back with a hand in his curls, demanding that Peter cleans up his mess.
And oh, god, the things he'd say— "You made the mess, sugar, it ain't my fault. So dirty, look at’chu. Dirty boy... dirty tongue... dirty cock... and look at how you made my chest dirty, too. But that's okay. There's one thing we can fix, at least. Now be good.”
And you know what? It’s embarrassing, but Peter loves every damn second of it.
