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withahappyrefrain · 2 years

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https://withahappyrefrain.tumblr.com/post/681614607965683712/yall-got-any-more-blondepeter-or-dilfpeter

…who says dilf peter can’t be blonde….

Anon, you are absolutely right. We shouldn't limit ourselves.

Summary: Peter brings back an old hairstyle you haven't seen in years. It brings back a lot of uh, urges.

Warnings: blonde DILF teacher!Peter (proceed w/ caution folks), afab!reader, Peter being an amazing girl!Dad, Daddy kink, breeding kink, and oral (f receiving)

"So there's something you should know." You looked up at your husband from the array of goat soaps you were looking at. The four of you were in the midst of your weekly farmer's market visit. You adjusted Sophie so she was resting on your hip.

"What did you say your students could do?"

Over the years, the details had changed, though the message remained the same. Back when you first met Peter, it would have been "What did you say your fraternity could do?" Post college, it changed to "What did you tell Miles he could do?"

Now that things had settled down (as much as they could with a four year old and two year old), you knew when Peter prefaced with that sentence, it usually had something to do with his high schoolers.

"So I told them how back in the day, I had blonde hair for most of college," He started.

"Daddy had blonde hair?" Sophie asked, resting her head against your chest.

"He did! And I take it that they wanted to see pictures," You said, looking at Peter.

"They did. So I showed them some old pictures and...." Peter paused, "And we made a bet."

"Dadda bet," Olivia babbled. Your two year old was perched on Peter's shoulders, playing with his hair. Peter said he kept it long because he looked good with it, but you knew it was because he loved having the girls play with it.

"What's a bet?" Sophie asked, not looking up from observing the necklace you had on.

"A bet is when you say you'll do something if another thing happens. If that thing doesn't happen, you don't have to do what you said you'll do," You explained to your preschooler.

You looked back at your husband, "So what did you bet with your students? Please tell me it doesn't involve me making dessert for them again." You winced at the memory of having to make over one hundred sugar cookies.

"I told them if over eighty percent of them got a B plus or higher on their chemistry exam, I'd let them dye my hair." It wasn't the worst bet Peter had agreed to (you still had trauma from when he shaved his head senior year of college).

"Well, your chemistry exams are known for being killer. So your hair should be safe," you went back to looking at the soaps, knowing Peter would assure you that you were right.

Except he didn't.

You looked up to find him making that 'please don't be mad at me I'm so cute' smile he always tried to use to soften you up.

"Peter......" You said in a warning tone. It was one word, but it screamed 'You better reassure me right now'. He continued to stare at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes. Despite years of being together, it still made your heart flutter.

"....When are they dying your hair?" You finally asked.

"Tomorrow during class." He put his hands on Ollie's hips, lifting her off his shoulders and resting her against his chest. Your toddler looked so small against his broad chest.

"Aren't you supposed to be....teaching?"

"Dying hair is all about chemicals and reactions! It's totally educational!" He paused, "Besides if my principal comes in, I'll just tell her I'm building relationships with my students. It is one of my strong suits."

You rolled your eyes, "Yes because you allow them to dye your hair!"

"Is Daddy gonna have new hair?" Sophie asked, "What color is it?"

"Yes, Daddy," you gritted the name, "What color will it be?"

Peter smirked, "It's a surprise!"

"Surprise surprise," Ollie babbled, playing with the strings of Peter's hoodie.

Well, at least you couldn't say life was boring in the Parker household.

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The next morning, you rested your head on Peter's chest, savoring the few moments of quietness the two of you would get before your alarm would go off, waking up your two energetic children in the process.

"I'm going to miss you," you said longingly, staring at the brown lock you had twisted around your finger.

"I'm dying my hair, not going off to war," Peter remarked, rolling his eyes.

"Just promise me you won't shave it off. You'll just let it grow out, okay?"

"Wow, I see someone is still traumatized from when I shaved my head senior year," Peter rolled his eyes as he wrapped his arms around you, bringing you closer to his chest.

"Maybe if someone had given me a heads up that they were shaving their head, I wouldn't be so traumatized." You still remembered the horror that ran through your body when you came in that day to find Peter sitting in a chair, half of his hair gone, and Miles on the counter with an electric razor in hand.

"I told you I was getting a haircut."

"A haircut and shaving off your head are two different things, Parker," Peter wiggled his eyebrows at your old nickname for him.

"I promise, I won't shave it off….only if you promise that you'll trim my hair while it grows out."

"Deal." You eyed your alarm clock, which was due to go off any second.

"Today's your day of meetings, right?" Peter asked. As much as you joked about how scatterbrained he could be sometimes, he did a better job at keeping track of important dates than you.

"Yup, so you'll have to pick the girls up from daycare."

He smiled, "They'll get to see the new hair before you." Peter pressed a kiss into your temple.

"I'm sure they'll be very excited," you giggled, "Now c'mon Dad, it's time to get up."

✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓✓

As you fished for the keys to your apartment, you could hear the sound of your daughters' laughter coming from inside. Based on the muffled noises you could hear, you assumed they were playing 'Spider-girls' and Peter was playing the villain.

When you found out your second child was another girl, Peter joked it was karma for his fraternity days. It was clear as day that he loved Sophie and Ollie with all his heart and then some. When you were pregnant with Sophie, you knew he was nervous about whether he would be a good father.

"Peter, if I had any doubts about that, do you think I would have allowed you to get me pregnant?" You told him at the time. It wasn't until he held Sophie for the first time that his doubts faded away. Within three months of her birth, Peter was asking if you two could "have another Sophie".

While Ollie was way more outgoing and loud than Sophie, you wouldn't have your family be any other way. You found your keys and began unlocking the door, embracing whatever chaos was inside.

Sophie and Ollie were on one side of the couch. Both were giggling despite having a finger up to their mouths to tell the other one to be quiet. You could see Peter was on all fours, only his long legs visible as they were sticking out of the couch.

"Bring me the Spider girls!" You heard Peter say, his voice deep and cartoonist. You quietly put your bag down, not wanting to interrupt the game. Your daughters couldn't contain their laughter.

Spider Girls was their current favorite game. It always involved Sophie and Ollie being "Spider-Girl" and saving the city, just like "How Daddy used to do with Uncle Miles!" Sometimes you played the citizen who needed help. Almost always, Peter was the big bad villain.

Sophie and Ollie quietly (their version of quiet) backed away from the couch. Peter's legs disappeared, you could hear the sound of his hands slamming against the carpet, alerting the girls that the "big bad man" was getting closer.

"I got you two now!" Your eyes widened when a blonde Peter popped out from the couch.

Fuck.

He was blonde again. His students dyed his hair blonde.

It was a strange sight. You felt like you were looking at a different Peter, the one you met in college. Except instead of smoking a blunt and trying to crudely flirt with you, he was now pretending to be under a hug attack from Sophie and Ollie.

Memories started flooding back. Memories of when you first met him, when the two of you were paired for a chemistry project, when he pushed you up against the wall and made out with you after watching you dance, memories of how he threw you on your bed and-

"Mommy!" Sophie's voice broke you out of your less than pure thoughts. You smiled, kneeling down so you were at eye level with your girls, who were running towards you.

"Did you girls beat the big scary man?" You asked excitedly. They nodded their heads. You looked over at Peter, who was running a hand through his now blonde hair. You couldn't get over the sight.

"I don't know…..I don't think we have him beat yet," you whispered loudly.

"What we do?" Ollie asked.

"Looks like you need," you took your hair out of your ponytail, doing a dramatic hairflip that caused your girls to erupt into giggles, "Spider-Woman! Let's get him!"

You herd your daughters over to Peter, who didn't even try to pretend to put up a fight. He let his three favorite girls gently pin him down to the floor (he still retained his super strength, despite hanging up the red and blue costume after Ollie's birth).

"Not a triple hug attack! I'm doomed!" Peter said in-between laughs.

"We did it! We saved the city!" Sophie said. She was the first one to get up. Ollie quickly followed, running after Sophie who was now heading towards their shared room.

You, on the other hand, continued to lay on top of your husband, resting your forehead against his.

"Hi," He whispered, unable to contain his smile.

"Hi," you replied. You tilted your head back, your eyes trailing up to take in the hair. You were impressed with the quality of a dye job his students had done. Far better than Miles' work back in college (not that you'd ever tell him that).

"Do you like the hair?" He asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

You reached out a hand, running it through his now much lighter locks.

"I feel like I've been transported back in time," you paused, "Though I can't see college you playing Spider-Girls willingly."

Peter laughed, "Brings back a lot of memories, huh?"

You rolled off of him, allowing him to sit up. You leaned back against the couch, taking in the sight.

"It does. Like when I found out for my big Chem 201 project, I had gotten paired with the douchey frat bro who sat five seats down from me," you smirked.

Peter shook his head, getting on his hands and knees so he could crawl over to you. You couldn't say it felt like a predator stalking it's prey. After all, what kind of prey opens their legs to let the predator in?

"Really? That's what you thought of?" He asked. You knew the answer he wanted to hear. But despite ten years of being with Peter and two children with him, you still weren't going to give in easily.

“That’s a core memory for me, I was so pissed off!” You paused, grinning, “It also…officially introduced me to my future husband and father of my children, I guess.”

“I guess,” Peter repeated, rolling his eyes. You leaned in, decreasing the distance of your lips but not closing the gap all the way.

“What memories were you hoping I would recall?” You asked slyly.

“Oh….I don’t know,” He paused, pretending to be deep in thought, “Maybe that time you and I finished the keg at the spring mixer….or maybe that time I made out with you in front of that rando who wouldn’t stop flirting.”

Peter leaned in, his lips ghosting over your’s, “Or maybe that time I fucked you senselessly in a coat closet.”

Your breathing had become heavy. Peter’s lips brushed over your’s. You leaned forward to close the gap. Whether it was his “Spidey-sense” or his need to tease you, he leaned back.

“Aww, is someone now horny?” The hair combined with that infamous smirk and teasing tone made you feel like you were at some frat house again, with Peter cornering you so you couldn’t escape his grasp.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sure, you two were married and you could have just easily told him yes, that you wanted him to fuck you up against a wall. But where was the fun in that?

“I don’t know if you’ve forgotten sweetheart, but I know when you’re turned on. I can smell it,” He leaned in to begin sucking on the spot right below your ear.

Fuck if that nickname didn’t bring back a whole lot of hot memories.

Your actions from reminscenting of those specific, spicy memories were cut short by the sounds of Sophie and Ollie arguing.

“You know, sometimes I miss the days where the reason we got interrupted was because someone had to use the bathroom,” Peter muttered as he got up. He stuck out a hand to help you get up.

“Let’s hurry before they start fighting on the ceiling again,” You said, picking up the pace of your walk. Having three people in your house with Spider-like abilities was….interesting to say the least. Luckily, Peter was there to crawl up and grab the girls if needed.

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After breaking up the fight your children were having on the ceiling, things calmed down enough in the Parker household for you and Peter to make dinner.

It didn't stop Peter's hand from lingering on your body. You shot him a knowing look.

"What?" He gave that fake innocent look, "I can't admire my beautiful wife and mother of my children?"

"You need to be good and help me cook dinner, Daddy." Based on the sharp exhale, the way you whispered the name did exactly what you wanted.

Peter placed his hands on your hips. He pressed your hips against his. You could feel his growing erection against your ass.

"I'm always a good Daddy for you," Peter whispered, his breath hot in your ear.

"Then tell me what this sauce is missing," You held up a spoon to him. Peter took the spoon up to his mouth. He wasn't giving up on you yet.

"Paprika."

He was just going to wait.

"How did I forget that?" You asked yourself out loud, grabbing the spice and giving it a couple of shakes over the pot.

"Should we tell them there are veggies in this sauce?" Peter whispered. You shook your head.

"Let's wait until Ollie is four. I think by then they'll still eat it after we tell them the recipe."

"Yeah, but then would Ben still eat it?" Peter asked, concern written all over his face, assuming you knew exactly who he was talking about.

"Ben? Who's Ben?"

"Either the name of our only son or of the male dog I'm getting after the birth of Annie Grace Parker so I'm not the only man in the house," he said before taking a sip of his wine.

You laughed as you stirred the pasta sauce, "I just want to remind you that it was you who asked for another daughter after Sophie was born." With Ollie getting closer to turning three, the idea of trying for a third child was getting brought up more and more often.

"Yes, and I'm quite thankful that happened," he pressed a kiss to your temple, "and now I'd love to have a son."

"I'll tell that to my uterus during my monthly meeting with them," you retorted.

"What's a uterus?" Sophie asked as she walked into the kitchen, Ollie quickly behind her.

"It's a body part that you don't have to worry about for many years," you explained to your eldest.

You and Peter got your daughters situated at the table and began serving dinner. Throughout, your eyes kept looking up to Peter’s hair. It was….odd. He hadn’t been blonde in years. And yet, the hairstyle brought back so many memories.

“Do you like Daddy’s new hair?” Sophie asked. Peter raised his eyebrows at you before taking another bite of his food.

“I do,” You smiled at your oldest, as your eyes met Peter's. He wiggled his eyebrows, a gleam in his eyes nothing short of mischievous.

"You know, Daddy looked like this when he met Mommy," Peter explained. Sophie giggled.

"Did you think Daddy was pretty?" She asked you. You smiled at the question, looking at your husband.

"I did….amongst other things." You winked at Peter. Your daughters didn't need to know about the disdain you had for Peter when you two first officially met.

Or that you wanted to fuck the smirk right off his face.

The rest of the evening was uneventful, saved for the ass grab from Peter while doing the dishes. The two of you helped Sophie and Ollie get ready for bed.

You smiled at the sight of Peter playing with Ollie's hair as he tucked her into bed. Your toddler stuck a hand out, motioning to Peter's hair. He leaned down, allowing Ollie to attempt to imitate his motions.

After a few bedtime stories and many forehead kisses, the girls were finally asleep. You closed their bedroom door quietly.

You turned around, about to make a comment to Peter when the next thing you knew, your feet were off the ground. It took you a few seconds to realize Peter had picked you up and slung you over his shoulder.

"What are-" your sentence was cut off by a firm smack on your ass.

"We just put them to sleep, you really want to wake them up?" Peter growled, "Or would you rather I fuck you?"

You nodded your head.

"What was that sweetheart? Couldn't hear ya?" Peter smirked as he walked down the hall with you, getting further away from your children's bedroom and closer to yours.

You mumbled an answer, hoping it would be enough.

The second smack across your ass told you it wasn't.

It also told you it was going to be one of those nights.

"Gotta answer me sweetheart," Peter reminded you, his tone mocking. He was standing right outside your bedroom, his hand on the doorknob.

“I want you to fuck me, Daddy,” You whispered, loud enough so he could hear it.

The sharp exhale through Peter's nose told you that was exactly what he wanted to hear. He opened your bedroom door and quickly closed it.

He gently put you down on the bed (while you liked being manhandled, Peter knew you didn't like feeling like a ragdoll).

“Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to fuck you?” He sat down next to you, leaning over. You reached up to run a hand through his newly colored hair.

“Since this morning?” You asked, a smirk appearing on your face.

“The hair brought back a lot of memories,” Peter hooked his fingers onto the waistband of your sweats, “Memories of me fucking you, specifically.”

“Gee, couldn’t,” You held back a gasp when you felt the cool air hit your core, “tell.”

“Oh please, like you haven’t been thinking about it. That cunt’s been soaked for the last two hours,” Your eyes widened at his words. The fact he was saying this while taking off your sweats and underwear so casually drove you wild.

“I….I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter spread your legs apart. He leaned over, his lips hovering over your’s.

“You know Daddy wins this game every time, right?” He whispered, “Just admit you’re a slut already.”

You raised an eyebrow at Peter’s word. “I’ve said way worse.” He defended.

“You’re not wrong, considering the things you said when we were trying to conceive,” You tried to ignore Peter’s fingers that were trailing down your stomach. It wasn’t really working but you were caring less and less as time went on.

“I just really like the idea of fucking a baby into you, can you blame me?” Peter’s fingers slipped into your cunt easily. You bit your bottom lip, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

You couldn’t think of a response. Instead, you focused on how sinful it looked to see Peter adjust himself so that his head was in between your legs.

You didn’t get to enjoy the sight for very long, as he angled his fingers to hit that sweet spot inside of you, causing you to throw your head back. Peter’s mouth latched onto your clit, eliciting a whine out of you. You quickly turned your head so your mouth was covered by the pillow.

“I thought you were going to fuck me,” You whined.

Peter looked up, the lower half of his mouth wet, “We’ve been together for over ten years. You know the rules: Daddy eats that pretty little cunt of yours first, and then you get fucked.”

You knew the rules. You just liked hearing Peter say them.

As he pushed you closer and closer to the edge with his mouth and fingers, the grip you had on his hair tightened. A particularly strong tug earned a deep, guttural moan from Peter.

You buried your face with a nearby pillow as you came, doing your best to conceal your moans. You could feel Peter's hands move up to pin down your thrashing hips, his tongue still trying to get every last drop.

"Fuck me. Please. Please fuck me Daddy," You whined. He was right, you had been horny all day as well. In the back of your mind, you also knew time was of the essence as a parent and you wanted to get fucked before getting interrupted.

Peter reached over to the draw in your nightstand, fishing around for a condom.

"Don't." He looked at you, his eyes wide.

"Are…..you sure?" He asked. It was clear as day that he was trying to contain his excitement.

You nodded, a smile forming, "Ollie will be three years old in two months and she's about as potty trained as an almost three year old can get."

"She was telling me yesterday that she wants to be a big sister like Soph," Peter grinned as he closed the draw.

"You sure you weren't just projecting there Parker?" You teased.

"You gonna let me put a baby in ya?" He whispered.

"Can't guarantee it'll be a son but-"

"You know I don't fucking care," Peter crashed his lips onto yours. Without breaking away, he awkwardly pushed down his sweats.

You titled your head back at the sensation of the tip of his cock pushing into you, beginning to stretch you out and-

"Daddy? Mommy?"

You two froze, looking at each other, hoping you both just simultaneously imagined hearing Ollie's voice.

That hope was dashed when you heard a little knock on the door.

"Where did our kids get their impeccable timing because it sure as hell wasn't from me," Peter whispered.

"Daddy! Mommy!" You heard Ollie's voice again, this time more urgent.

"What is it baby?" You asked, trying your best not to sound annoyed. Peter regretfully pulled out and pulled up his pants.

"Can't sleep."

"I'll get her," Peter said, trying to adjust his sweatpants so his erection wasn't as obvious.

"Daddy's coming, okay bug?" Peter said.

"Okay Daddy." You heard Ollie say on the other side of the door.

Peter leaned over, his mouth on your ear, "You're going to wait right here and when I get back, I'm going to fill you up over and over again until there's a baby inside that belly, alright?"

You nodded your head eagerly.

#peter parker oneshot #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x reader #dilf!Peter #dilf!Peter Parker #peter parker smut #my writing #tasm!peter imagine #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm peter x you #tasm peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x y/n

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katyswrites · 2 years

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Since it's Mother's Day... do you ever write dilf!Peter?

Oh, I think frequently about dilf!Peter, but thinking of him on Mother's Day is on a whole other level. Bc dilf!Peter would be so soft on Mother’s Day…. (mostly SFW, but suggestive content at the end, 16+)

He wants to make sure you can sleep in as long as possible. You feel him move out of bed next to you, causing you to stir. You slowly blink awake, reaching for his still-warm side of the bed.

“Shhh…” he whispers, gently stroking the side of your head. “Go back to sleep… I’m going to try to entertain the kids as long as possible, okay?”

You bury your face into the pillow, sighing contentedly as he kisses your temple and leaves the bedroom.

You drift off to sleep again, the sounds of little voices in the kitchen drifting through the air. You can’t help but smile at the sound of your family, and the smell of food, coming from downstairs.

Sure enough, soon the kids are bursting through the door, rousing you once again as they jump onto the bed. Your 4-year-old son and 3-year-old daughter are reeling with excitement, shouting “Mommy, mommy! HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY!”

You stretch, sitting up and catching Peter’s eyes and soft smile as he leans against the doorframe.

“Look what we made!” they shout, handing you their homemade cards. The folded pieces of construction paper definitely had assistance from Peter, especially considering that your youngest couldn’t even read yet, but you can’t help but smile at the stick-figure versions of you and the kids, complete with hearts and flowers drawn crudely in marker.

“Thank you!” you exclaim, drawing them in for a hug over the covers.

“They also ‘helped’ with this,” Peter says, approaching with a tray you only just notice now. The tray, complete with eggs, toast, fruit, and coffee, as well as a glass with some flowers picked from the garden. “Breakfast in bed, for the best mom,” he says, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he places it on your lap.

“You did?!?” you exclaim to the kids, who nod enthusiastically. You know that the probably picked the flowers while Peter actually assembled the breakfast, but you can’t help the way your heart warms for your little ones.

Breakfast in bed is accompanied by the kids babbling incessantly while your husband sits next to you on the edge of the bed, sipping his coffee and sharing amused glances with you.

As soon as you're finished, the kids are bursting to bring you downstairs, leading you to whatever surprise had been set up.

“Look Mommy!” your daughter exclaims. “We bought you sunflowers!”

Sure enough, a bouquet of sunflowers sits in a large vase at the center of the kitchen table, accompanied by a wrapped gift at its base.

“Open it, open it!” they both cry, jumping with excitement.

“Okay, okay!” you say, tearing into the paper. You smile at the painted frame, covered in glitter glue and macaroni, which features a candid photo of you, laughing as the kids jump into your arms. You know immediately that Peter must’ve taken it without you realizing.

You look up at him, your heart doing somersaults as you meet his gaze. After all these years, he never fails to take your breath away. You mouth “thank you,” over the children’s heads as you crouch down to hug them.

You spend the day at the park with the kids, Peter’s arm around you the whole time. You sit on a bench where you can watch the kids on the playground, but Peter insists that you relax and read your book, ensuring that he won’t take his eyes off of them. “You’re off duty,” he whispers in your ear, rubbing your upper arm soothingly. You appreciate it, as you so rarely get to relax nowadays with two busy kids.

That evening, you pay a visit to Aunt May, enjoying a wonderful dinner as a family, all the while Peter holding your hand under the table.

Later that evening, Peter puts the kids to bed. You take the time to have a nice, long shower, and you sink into bed, perhaps the most content you’ve been in a long time.

You can’t help but smile - although your day was relatively simple, your heart swells with how much you love your family, and how your life turned out pretty great, all things considered.

You’re half asleep when you hear Peter come into the room, already in his t-shirt and sweatpants for bed.

“Thank you, for putting them to bed,” you whisper as he slides into bed next to you.

“Of course,” he says, smiling. He looks at you son intently, his eyes soft and full of adoration, as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Cradling your face in his hands, he leans down and pulls you into a slow, gentle kiss.

“I love you, so much,” he breathes, resting his forehead against yours. “I love you too,” you whisper back, nuzzling your nose into his. “Thank you, for today,” you say. “It was perfect.”

“Thank you - for everything,” he replies, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… and you’ve given me all of that and more.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just kiss him again, a bit more forcefully.

He continues to press gentle kisses, traveling downwards along your neck, to your clavicle, to your chest -

“Peter,” you sigh, “What are you -”

“How tired are you?” he asks, looking up at you suggestively. You feel warm, replying, “Well, I guess that depends what you have in mind.”

He grins, almost devilishly, as his head disappears under the covers, and you close your eyes, ready for your husband to make you see stars.

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