#professor!miguel

[cupcakeinat0r]

A Nerdy middle-aged loser Miguel w a dad bod who teaches your genetics class.

He has a huge crush on you even though he knows he shouldn’t but how tf couldn’t he????

With the way you always walk in a minute or two late, making the whole class look at you as you strut in with your quiet “so sorry!” and your cute little outfits that show off the best parts of your body.

Miguel’s eyes would follow you and the way you set down your bag, whipping out your computer, ready to absorb all the knowledge that Prof. O’Hara has to offer like a sponge. He usually has to stand behind his podium because watching you hang onto every single one of his words with those parted, glossy lips and curious eyes made him embarrassingly hard.

Or the way you took notes, your cute little organization of colors and annotations. Your kindness in giving notes to your peers because you wanted to see everyone succeed. Even though you may not have looked like it, you were a smarty pants, too. And he found that extremely hot.

During his lecture, he’ll sometimes catch you applying lip gloss or fixing your hair in your compact mirror and think to himself how gorgeous you are and how lucky your boyfriend that you totally already have is.

Cuz there’s no way he could pull someone like you. Those days are over for him. Plus, you were way out of his league.

But he can’t help but have a sliver of hope every time you leave class with an adorable smile and small wave.

“Thank you so much, Professor O’Hara! Great class today!!”, your praise never ceasing to make him slightly flustered on the inside.

Before you, he totally fucked his own hand like everyday. He’s a lonesome man. But now that you were in his life? That man goes home everyday, imagining his had is your luscious, tight cunt, replaying your cute voice in his head over and over again.

What he has no idea is that his praise has the same effect on you.

Anytime you had a question or were worried that you weren’t understanding a concept, Miguel would comfort you, with the most gentle words and voice.

He was such a cute man. It’d be so easy to praise him and baby him, telling him he’s sooo smart and such a good teacher.

His well-kept black hair w tiny hints of gray throughout, his black rimmed square glasses, his little cashmere sweater + button up combos that hugged around his broad chest, enormous biceps, and pudgy belly. He was sooo dreamy. He made it so hard to focus.

You’d go up to his desk after class needing clarification on a topic. He’d tell you to sit down, eager to help you with the class (or anything ever, he’d do anything for you if it meant keeping you).

His cologne would fill your nose as he bends over the table, a strand of hair falling on his forehead, pushing his glass up his nose as he towers over you as he explains what ever it was you were confused about.

It never helped because you never caught a single word. You were too busy imagining his soft stomach rubbing against your back as he bends you over the table, plowing you while saying those sweet words of encouragement into your ear.

And those veiny, hairy arms and hands wrapped around your waist as he bounces you on his fat cock, making those adorable glasses of his fog up.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re doing great, as always.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart.”

“I know, mama, It’s a hard concept to grasp, but you’ll get it. I know it.”

It made you scream on the inside. You wanted so badly to be a good student for him so that he could talk to you this way every single class.

Pt.2 here!

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

#shout out to my random burst of creativity n slutty thoughts #y’all r real ones #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #dadbod!miguel #nerdy!miguel #loser!miguel #professor!miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #atsv #miguel smut #Miguel fic #miguel o’hara headcanon #miguel o’hara #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff

[eyesxxyou]

*ೃ˚ :💾 professor!miguel x reader

❝ warnings ❞ oral (m receiving), desk fucking, making press, anal fingering, finger fucking, Miguel with glasses, cockwarming, exhibitionism, edging

Professor!Miguel makes you his TA because he wanted you to spend more time with it without it raising suspicion as to why you're always in his office.

Professor!Miguel who can't help but give you a little extra credit on your assignments when you get on your knees and open that pretty mouth of yours to him to slide his cock into and take the edge off of all his hard work. He deals with so much in a day and you want to be there for him, with open arms, open legs, and and open mouth.

Professor!Miguel who has you keep his cock warm with your mouth under his desk while he grades papers. You'll wait until your jaw aches before you begin to nod your head and stroke your tongue along the underside of his thick length. You'll suck his cock, leave him stuttering with his glasses falling lopsided on his face, "Hermosa, my love, please. I have work to do." It makes you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks, swirling your tongue against his sensitive tip until he gives you what you desire. You let him cum down your throat, each swallow making him sigh in pleasure and relax further into his seat, his head lulled back and his glasses resting on the tip of his nose. You purr in pleasure, your own hand in your pants, teasing your own clit this whole time. His cum coating your tongue and lips making you rock with the beginnings of your own orgasm.

Professor!Miguel who will wait until his last lecture is done and the lights are dimmed before he bends you over his desk and fucks you silly. He'll have you squealing his name, echoing off the walls your eyes looking at the seats you and your classmates once sat in. "Fuck, fuck, fuck– M- Migueeel!" He'll fuck you so hard he moves the desk forward with loud screeches and leaves you with tears pricking your eyes. He strokes his cock inside you so good and deep that it makes you believe that heaven was real and this was it.

Professor!Miguel who loves to tease your ass while fucking you, never fully going there but always testing the waters. He'll spit on your ass and ease his thumb into the tight rim of your hole. You'll moan, your head resting on the papers you were meant to grade, papers you were crumbling in your hands. You'll have to reprint those later. He'll finger you there, ask you if you like it and you'll moan as he pushes further in.

Professor!Miguel who likes to tease you about someone coming in while he's fucking you. The spotlight was on the two of you. If any one came in, their attention would immediately be drawn to you getting railed so hard tears were beginning to prick your eyes. You shivered at the thought, in both fear and pleasure, every shadow making you want to stop but Miguel forced you to keep going, pinning your neck down to the desk with his large hand and rolling his hips against your ass. "Not so fast, cariño."

Professor!Miguel who likes it when you take his reading glasses off when he's fucking you in a mating press and put it on yourself. He'll tuck your legs further against your chest, bending you in half, pressing his body on top of yours to kiss you. "Muñeca, you look like a slut with my glasses on." His tongue will draw across your bottom lip as he looks into your eyes, his glasses barely staying on with the power of his thrusts. He fucks you stupid, drooling, brain-dead. Your fingers claw at his hairy forearms as you look at him. His hair tossed, his shirt open just enough to reveal his chest hair and the golf chain he wears all the time beneath his clothes. The happy trail leading down to the neatly trimmed hair at the base of his cock drilling inside you. If either two of you looked like the slut, it was him.

Professor!Miguel who, as a punishment, with put you in his lap force you to spread your legs, and finger fuck you in his empty lecture hall. He'll force you to look at those doors that you feared would open at any moment. He'll finger you with his thumb stroking and teasing your clit until you reach the edge of completion, labored breathing, grasping hands, needy whimpers, then he'll stop. You'll whine and cry and beg for him to let you cum but he'd wait despite your beautiful pleas for your orgasm to pass, then continue again, your body so grateful that it would relax into him, forgiving his betrayal, your hands reaching back and stroking the back of his head like he's a good boy. Then he'd do it again. And again. Until you were crying in his arms, begging to cum. And when you finally did, it wrecked you, took you in a way that made you thrash in his arms and toss your hand over your mouth to stifle your moan that bordered on a scream.

Professor!Miguel who knew you were easily jealous and would often call in a student to talk to alone without you as a participant. The anxiety killed you and the moment you could get alone with him, whether in a broom closet or in the staff bathroom, you'd pull him in and fuck him like he's never known before, have him shivering with the brutality of an orgasm within minutes.

Professor!Miguel who knows that a relationship of this nature with a student would get him fired but you were so addicting he found himself not caring. He had every reason in the world to cut ties of this nature with you, for you would inevitably lead to his downfall, but everytime you'd kiss him Everytime you'd trace his jaw and snatch his glasses. He could never get rid of you.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara x reader #professor!miguel #professor!au #miguel smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o'hara smut

[sassypossumm]

Finally

Art cred: mao0047 on X (they're really so good...)

FINALLY getting around to cleaning out my inbox, to the lovie that requested Professor!Miguel x Student this one's for you (made reader a TA grad student) MDNI TW: smut,brief mention of child's death, infidelity, P in V,degredation

"Professor? You in here?" Knocking on the heavy door, you frowned when you got no response.

He always did this.

Miguel O'Hara, stodgy genetics prof that he was, had a bad habit of falling down research rabbit holes. And when he did, you might as well have been dealing with the absent minded professor.

Sighing, you shoved open the door and stepped inside, immediately taken aback by the musty smell and horribly dim light. As your eyes adjusted to the light, your heart squeezed at the sight.

When you'd first started this TA program, you'd dreaded your assignment. Genetics?! You'd balked. What on earth did you know about genetics?!

Then you'd met your assigned professor.

Miguel O'Hara, genetics 101 prof. The man was a giant, disheveled, socially awkward, cerebral...teddy bear.

There was no other way to put it. One look at those wide, tired, gorgeous brown eyes and you knew you were sunk. Now, leaning against thr door frame, watching his hulking frame dwarf the dingy hole of an office, you couldn't stop the thundering of your heart.

You cleared your throat, and Miguel's head shot up. You stifled a smile at the way his glasses slid down his nose, and made note of the sheer exhaustion etched into his features. He looked far beyond his 38 years, in fact, he looked ready to be carved into the side of Mount Rushmore alongside the stony faced founding fathers.

"How long you been in here, Professor?" At your concerned tone, Miguel leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose. Stepping into the space, you struggled to not let your eyes wander to the way his frame practically swallowed his chair as he man spread.

Sitting across from him, you busied yourself with papers as he ran a hand through his hair and groaned. You rubbed your thighs together, trying not to imagine what those gorgeous thighs of his might feel like braced on either side of you as you-

"Y/N?"

"Huh?" The sound of his voice shot through you, bringing you back to the present. Looking up, you met his eyes, and took in his expectant stare. Clearly he'd been trying to get your attention. Your cheeks heated at your foolish thoughts. Blinking hard, you pushed down the unrealistic notions.

There was no way a man like Miguel O'Hara would ever be interested in you. After all, hadn't you been throwing out hints half the semester.... and after that last poetry session you'd both attended...maybe Hobie was right...you were reading more into the lingering stares than was actually there.

"Yes, professor," You cleared your throat. "I'm sorry, I wasn't listening." Miguel gave you a tired smile and pulled off his bifocals.

"It's okay, Y/N. I remember my last week of finals before I received my PHD."

"Did you get your PHD before or after Fred Flinstone received his?" His eyes creased at the corners at your light banter.

"Before, you smart ass, who do you think tutored him?" He said with a conspiratorial grin. Of all the things you'd done and accomplished in thr past year, this was what you'd miss thr most.

The easy familiarity you and Miguel had slipped into. After papers were graded, and everything was organized, you'd occasionally relax and just... talk. Over a cup of coffee, and even at his house once or twice, you'd just talk.

It was crazy to think just how familiar you'd become with his life. Over the past several months, he'd begun opening up more and more. About his first girlfriend, how he'd left her for his brother's girlfriend. You'd been struck at the thought of the Miguel you knew cheating on anybody...it seemed such an alien idea.

Then he'd shown you the pictures of his daughter, Gabi. The daughter who'd been cruelly taken from him in a car accident. Your heart had broke. To have something so tragic happen, and then to top it off, his wife blamed him for the whole thing.

Youd tried to assure him that it clearly hadn't been his fault, but he'd stiffened and shook off your attempts. On thst one, you'd backed down. He'd put up a clear boundary, and you hadn't wanted to push him away.

Miguel, however, had no qualms about dragging his ex wife through the verbal mud, and venomously at that. From the way he spoke, it was obvious he had no remaining good will for the woman who'd blamed him for his daughters death, and insulted him at every turn for his supposed 'giving up' when he'd begun gaining weight.

Your blood still boiled when you thought about it. The woman was hurting, but that hadn't given her thr right to hurt Miguel. Righteous indignation burned in your belly as you looked at the tured, beautiful man across from you.

He deserved the world.

"Professor,"

"Please, Miguel, we're practically colleagues." He said, stretching his arms above his head.

Now that was odd...

Miguel had always been very strict about remaining professional. Come to think of it, he'd been calling you by your first name since you'd entered... maybe...

"Professor, I don't think that's very," he cut you off with a pointed look.

"Next fall you'll be just as much a professor as I am."

"Shakespearean Poetry and the Romantics can hardly be considered of equal value to genetics." You balk, but not for long. Miguel leaned forward and looked at you intently.

"Poetry is just as valuable as genetics, if not more so." You opened your mouth to argue, but the look in his eyes quieted you. The eyes were thr same, that visible exhaustion seemed a permanent addition to his features, but there was something...something different.

There was an unfamiliar intensity dancing in those deep pools of brown you'd fallen for. Before, you'd adoring thought of his eyes like those of a big puppy, but now...now the only phrase that came to mind was 'bedroom eyes'. You shivered at both the thought, and the electricity you felt growing between you.

On your end, you'd always known that draw existed,but youd never dreamt this giant teddy bear felt the same.

"Professor," Your tone was breathy. His brow raised slightly.

"Miguel." He instructed simply. Your tongue stuck to the rood of your mouth, and your skin grew warmer.

"Miguel." You murmured. He hummed, and you felt a thrill of pride run of your spine at the idea that you'd pleased him. "What, um, what is, what are we," He silenced you with another seerimg look.

"I'm socially awkward, Y/N," he gave you a warm smile. "But not entirely oblivious." Sliding his hand across the table, he grazed your fingers with his thumb. "I'd have to be entirely ignorant to ignore this...spark, if you will, that exists between us."

You shuddered at the contact, your eyes fluttering shut at his husky tone. A deep rumble went through his chest and he raised your fingers to his lips.

"Why wait so long?" You chanced a look at him, and felt your breathing shallow. He smiled against your fingers, and drew your thumb into his mouth, sucking softly, before withdrawing it, nipping the tip teasingly.

Where on earth did this man come from, and what had he done with your Miguel?

"For one thing, it hardly seemed prudent to risk either of our positions for something that was so clearly more than a one time fuck." He said calmly, turning over your hand to kiss thr inside of your wrist. You shuddered at his calculated tone and bit back a sound.

"You don't want to fuck me?" Your voice wavered, the words no more than a breath. Miguel's eyes darkened, and a predatory grin slowly morphed his features from placid genetics teacher to something...lewder.

"Oh, I want to fuck you, hermosa." He purred, sucking at your fluttering pulse point. "But I also want to make love to you, decadently." His lips dance up your arm. "Voraciously."

He stands, leaning over the table to dwarf you completely, pressing delicate kisses along your shoulder and up your neck. "Over. And over. And over again." His voice rumbles low in your ear, sending tendrils of arousal straight to your core.

Your head falls to the side, invitingly. You're not entirely certain what's come over him, but you're not about to question it. A whimper escapes your mouth as he finally turns your face up towards his with a firm hand on your jaw.

"For another thing," he breathed against your lips. "I wanted to see who'd break first."

"You." His lips quirk momentarily at your quip.

"Si, nena. You prove to be quite stubborn." He growls the final word before capturing your lips with his. You moan softly, and when his tongue brushes against yours, you surrender completely.

Whining desperately, you rake your fingers through his hair and tug wantonly at his shirt as his tongue expertly coaxed a litenty of primal praises from your throat. His hand slid down your jaw to enclose gently around your throat, and he groaned as your moans and whimpers sent vibrations through his fingers.

You trid tugging him across the desk, but Miguel simply grunted, tearing his mouth away from yours to press bruising sucks and kisses down the column of your throat. You whined at began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Ah-ah" Miguel growled, catching your hand in his. Biting down on your collar bone, he pulled back and looked at you. "Greedy little thing... we do this my way."

His way meant bending you over the desk, wrists held behind your back in one of his large hands as he took you mercilessly from behind.

"Th-this the fucking you mentioned?" You panted between thrusts, groaning when the base of his cock grazed your clit. Miguel hissed at the way your walls fluttered in response to the stimulation and slowed his pace, wrapping his free hand around the back of your neck, pushing your further into the desks surface.

"Callarse la boca." He grunted, picking up his speed. Miguel's hips slapped against your ass, accompanied by his occasional moan and your profuse broken sounds of pleasure. The erotic sounds seemed to spur him on, and his grip on your neck tightened as he released your wrists to slap your ass soundly. You cried out, clenching around his deliciously hard cock.

"You like that?" He growled, slapping your ass again. "You like being fucked like a slut?" Your eyes squeezed shut and you moaned. He reased your neck and gripped your hair, turning your face roughly as he continued steadily pounding into you.

"Answer me." He hissed, slapping your ass again. You like being fucked like this? Like my own personal cock sleeve?" Your breathing was labored and you moaned weakly. You could feel the veins of his cock as he brushed passed your g-spot with ever thrust.

"I, Uh-huh, so good, Miggy...." He groaned at your needy tone. "Please, need, need it, so bad..." You whimpered, thrumming and flushed, teetering on the edge of climax.

"Shhh. I got you, bebita. I'll give you what you need." He shushed you, pressing a tender kiss to your temple before grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his thrusts. You cried out as his cock bullied your clit and pussy with quick rhythmic thrusts.

"I'm gonna, Migs," You babbled, scrambling for purchase on anything to cling to. Folding himself over you, Miguel laced his hands over yours and murmured nonsensical praises in your ear, not letting up on his punishing pace.

"Let go, I got you."

With those words, you toppled over the edge, twitching and shuddering as you came all over his cock, and went boneless against the desks surface, lost in a haze of white hot pleasure as your walls clamped around his cock like a vice. Miguel groaned and his hips stuttered before his cock twitched, and he came soon after you, filling the condom with his cum.

Sighing heavily, Miguel scooped you into his arms before flopping back in his chair. Cleanup and damage control would be a job for later. Right now, you were sat, warm and sated in his arms.

And that was enough for him.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x you #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel imagine #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #Professor Miguel #Sassy requests

[daisies-daydreams]

Office Hours - Chapter 1 (Professor!Miguel x F!College Student!Reader)

Pairing: Professor!Miguel O’Hara x CollegeStudent!F!Reader Category: Semi-Angst (Smut begins next chapter 😉) Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Content, Romantic/Sexual Tension Word Count: 1.1k+

Summary: Your grades have been slipping, prompting your physics professor, Miguel O'Hara, to suggest that you see him during his office hours...

A/N: Ahhh I'm so excited to finally post this! I've literally been working on this off and on since I started studying for my exams (aka a long ass time). I hope you all enjoy this roller-coaster of a story! Side Note: This is a college AU. All characters have been aged up.

-> Ch. 2

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

It’s not your fault your physics professor had a body like a Greek god and a voice smoother than silk. Or that he offers you an uncharacteristically kind smile every time you tell him to have a good day. Or that your grades have been slipping because you’ve been getting a little…distracted lately.

“…(Y/N)? (Y/N)?” your name echoed inside your ears. Your friend and classmate, Miles, nudged your arm with his elbow. You shook your head and blinked a few times, your heart sinking when you saw a small smirk on his face.

“I’m sorry, what was the question?” you asked as you turned towards your professor. A few snickers were heard around the lecture hall, causing you to shrink into your seat. Professor O’Hara sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and murmured something under his breath. His large shadow was suddenly over you, his dark eyes meeting yours through his reading glasses. You wanted to shrink even more as he tapped his thick fingers against his taut forearm.

“I asked: what happens when a clock gets closer to the source of gravitation?” he questioned, his voice husked as he leaned forward ever so slightly. You felt your face heat up as you eyed his parted, plump lips. You swallowed thickly.

“U-Um…time becomes slower?” you said hesitantly. Your professor's eyes softened as he leaned back.

“Correct,” he replied with a small grin. Your head perked up just as he turned to walk back to his desk. “As (Y/N) said, time becomes slower. Now, gravitational time dilation…” his voice began to trail off as you observed the way his muscles flexed beneath his tight-fitting sweater. You quickly shifted your gaze back to your dim laptop screen, biting your bottom lip all the while.

The rest of class was a tug-of-war of attention, your mind shifting like sand between fantasy and reality. The knowing stares and occasional nudges from Miles didn’t help much, either.

“Alright, that’s it for today’s lesson. Any questions?” he asked. The room was dead silent. The massive man at the front of the room scanned his audience before sighing. “Okay, then. Please have Module 6 done by midnight tomorrow,” Professor O’Hara said. Everyone shifted out of their chairs as they began to pack up. You rubbed your eyes before sliding your laptop into your bag.

“A little distracted during class today?” Miles nudged again while wiggling his brows. You rolled your eyes as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

"You're worse than Hobie, I swear," you groaned. He chuckled as the two of you began to make your way out of the room.

“(Y/N),” your professor called. You instantly froze in place, your feet stuck to the floor like velcro. You slightly turned your face to see Professor O'Hara leaning against his desk.

“Yes, Professor O’Hara?” you asked. He tilted his head down slightly, the rims of his spectacles catching the dim lighting of the room.

“A word,” he continued, motioning you to come towards him with his index finger. Your cheeks filled with heat as Miles leaned over.

“Good luck,” your friend snickered. You shot him a deadly glare before he chuckled and walked into the hallway. You bit the inside of your cheek as you turned around and shuffled forward, desperately trying to keep any illicit thoughts from clawing their way to the front of your mind. Professor O’Hara gazed at you with half-lidded eyes as he tilted his head to the side, his knuckles paling against the edge of his wooden desk.

“(Y/N), I'm starting to become concerned about your performance in this class,” he said. You looked up, your heart racing beneath your goose-bump ridden chest.

“Sir?” you asked. Your professor’s brows scrunched together before he took off his glasses and folded them on the neck of his sweater.

“You’re smart, (Y/N). We both know that,” he spoke. Your cheeks felt hot as your chest grew tight.

“Thank you, Professor O’Hara,” you said. His shoulders relaxed a little.

“Call me Miguel," he murmured as he flashed you a small smile. Your breath stuttered.

"Oh, um, thank you...Miguel," you squeaked, his name feeling unfamiliar as it fell from your lips. Your professor hummed as he pushed himself off the desk. Your mouth grew dry as he lumbered towards you, his body soon within a mere foot from yours.

"I’ve been noticing your attention during class has been slipping lately,” he stated. You felt like you were floating as you felt his hot breath fall across your face, your eyes glued to the way his Adam's apple bobbed. “Hey, look at me...please,” he said sternly. You shook your head and focused on his eyes. His features were soft despite his firm tone, his body leaning slightly towards you.

“(Y/N), I don’t want to see you fail because I know you’ve worked too hard to get this far,” he explained with a gentle tone. Your heart felt like it was going to explode at his words combined with his tender, caring eyes. You clenched and unclenched your hands.

“I-I understand,” you said. Professor O’Hara leaned back, his gaze glued to your lips before he shifted them back to your eyes.

“Good. Now, I recommend that you come see me during my office hours where I can personally review the material with you,” he explained. Your heart stopped at the thought of being alone with him. You swallowed thickly and nodded.

“T-That sounds good,” you replied. The corner of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly.

“Will tomorrow at 6 PM work for you?” he asked, tilting his head to the side a little as he looked down at you. You parted your lips as you squeaked out a quiet “yes”. He nodded.

“Good,” he replied. You could've sworn you saw him wink as he pulled his jacket over his wide shoulders, though you quickly dismissed it as a result of sleep deprivation. Even still, your core began to swell with heat as you watched his thick, deft fingers graze over his buttons.

“Oh, and one more thing…is there anything in particular you find distracting during class?” he asked, the corners of his mouth curved a little more into a smirk than a simple grin. You felt all color drain from your face as you clutched the bottom of your shirt.

“Just some...personal things,” you muttered. You could feel his gaze intensify, shining against you like the heat of the sun.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” he apologized. You waved your hand.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you flushed. He cracked a small grin: such a simple gesture that quickly unraveled you from the inside out.

“Right,” he hummed before moving back to his desk. You shuffled in place as you lingered in the threshold of the lecture hall.

“Could you move a little to the left, please?” he chuckled, his husky voice snapping you out of your thoughts. You blinked a few times before looking into his deep, brown eyes.

“Sorry,” you mumbled as you took a step over. Miguel grinned again as he took a step forward. You raised your brows when he suddenly paused and turned towards you. You could hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears as he took a step forward, causing your back to become flush with the wall. Your breath hitched as he cupped your cheek with his massive, warm hand.

"This can't be real," you thought as your eyes widened. But the feeling of his palm against your cheek told you this was very much your reality. You sighed as you mindlessly leaned into his touch. He leaned forward as he smoothed his calloused thumb over your skin.

“(Y/N), I-"

“U-Um, Professor O’Hara?” a voice piped up. He rolled his head over as his hand immediately fell to his side. You shuffled awkwardly as the student's gaze shifted between the two of you.

“What?” he asked, his tone having a noticeable edge to it. The other student swallowed before tugging on the strings of their backpack.

"I-I had some questions about today's lecture," they said. Miguel clenched his jaw.

"My office will be open in thirty minutes. You can come ask me then," he replied curtly. They nodded before scurrying away, leaving the two of you alone once more. Your heart stopped as he leaned in, his lips brushing over your ear.

"Remember, 6 PM tomorrow," he husked. You bit your lip and nodded as he leaned back. You shuddered as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"Professor?"

Miguel rolled his eyes and groaned quietly.

"Sí," he called as another student hovered in the doorway. They came inside before asking him a million questions in a matter of five seconds. Miguel blinked before gazing over at you and tilting his head towards the door. You gave him a small smile before hurrying outside, your heart glowing more than ever as you made your way back to your dorm.

---

“So, how was your ‘talk’ with Old Man O’Hara,” Hobie smirked. You scoffed and poked at your dinner with a fork. Miles and Pav were “busy” playing a video game as the rest of you lounged around your living room.

“Hobie, don’t be gross,” your roommate, Gwen, playfully flicked his arm as she slid onto the couch next to you.

“Yes, mum,” he sang. Your friend simply shook her head as she tossed some popcorn into her mouth.

“He’s not that old…” you muttered. Miles immediately turned his head while Hobie burst out into laughter.

“So you do have something for the geezer,” the Brit said while wiggling his brows.

“OHHH! I KNEW IT!” Pav beamed excitedly as he quickly paused the game and spun around to meet your gaze. Your face grew hot as everyone’s eyes suddenly glued onto you. You took a deep breath.

“Migu-Professor O’Hara is my instructor. Nothing more,” you said with a firm nod. All the guy’s exchanged glances before turning back to you.

“What?” you asked in an annoyed tone.

“Oh, come on,” Miles sighed.

“It’s so obvious!” Pav said innocently. You grumbled as you threw your head back and ran your hands down your face.

“Is it really?” you groaned. Everyone chuckled.

“Yeah,” Miles shrugged. You shook your head, glancing down at your plate.

“He’s like thirty-something. He’s not that old...” you muttered.

“So about ten years is your limit?” Hobie asked. You snatched a piece of popcorn from Gwen’s bowl and chucked it at one of his wicks.

“Hey!” she frowned. Hobie gave a wry grin as he plucked it from his hair before locking eyes with you. He smirked as he slid it past his plump lips and slowly chewed it. You narrowed your eyes as the Brit swallowed it with an audible gulp. Your cheeks flushed as you scoffed.

“Okay, I'm done with this conversation," you replied as you held up your hands. Hobie chuckled before quickly shifting his attention to Gwen. They began to talk about their next band practice while Miles and Pav went back to playing their game.

Meanwhile, your mind began to drift as you anxiously wondered what tomorrow would bring...

----

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Taglist: @maybethatfanfictionwriter @depressesoespressorat @yuhhtricki999

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #professor!miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman #across the spider verse #atsv #spider verse #into the spiderverse #college au #angst

[vktrsnclr]

TEACHER'S PET (R18+)

MINORS GTFO

pairing: miguel o'hara x f reader

summary: you're a college freshman in biochemistry and miguel is your professor in biochemical engineering, a major subject that you're about to fail.

warning: I'm a feminist and I'm concerned.

word count: 1.9k+

contents: humiliation, degradation, age gap, height difference, fingering, oral sex, p in v, hair pulling, public groping.

MASTERLIST

It's your first year in college studying biochemistry, the exam results for the first semester's finals are supposed to be distributed today.

Your professor in biochemical engineering, Mr. O'hara discusses the grading system for the second semester but you're losing out of focus. You're staring at his thick voluptuous thighs, thick veiny hands and imagined how he would choke you with it.

You took a gulp at the thought of it. He then started the distribution of the report cards. Your stare followed him as he sat on the table, individually calling out your names and distributing the cards.

"Parker, good job. Reyes, do better next time. Stacy, impressive. Stark..... dios mio." His voice was hoarse. The way he says your last name followed by a spanish term you don't understand sounded like a moan but truly, a term of disappointment.

"Ms. Stark... Are you seriously daydreaming right now?" He asks with a stern voice.

"Oh um, no sir. W-What is it?" Your classmates tried to hold their laugh, you can hear them giggling.

"Get your ass over here." He orders. You stood and walked up to him, hands behind your back, signing 'fuck you' to all of your classmates.

"What are we gonna do with this?" He points at your grade in bio-engineering which is his subject and a major too. You looked at it by bending your torso down, slightly bowing cause you have an eyesight of a dying man. Your cleavage flashes in front of him unintentionally. He tries to look away and focus your report card.

"2.0 (C/73-76%). This is bad." Everyone in your school knows that you're a daughter of a billionaire genius and this is what you got.

Deep inside, you know that the reason you failed is because you've been partying too hard. Just like your father, you're a party animal.

"What can I do?" You asked worriedly.

"Meet me at my office at 6. Class dismissed." He stood up, towering over you at 6'9 ft. He walked out of the room with your classmates.

Your friend, Gwen Stacy clinged on your arm on the way to the cafeteria. You sat with her and his boyfriend, Peter Parker. You can't really understand what they're saying cause your mind is split between your daddy getting disappointed and your disappointed professor being such a daddy.

Four hours later, it's time to go home but you still have to go to Mr. O'Hara regarding your first semester results. You walked into an empty faculty, the other teachers already went home. You walked by Miguel's office window and saw him looking at his watch with what seems to be an irritated brow. You proceeded to walk inside his office, it's smells good and is neatly organized.

"Good evening Mr. Ohara."

"Miss Stark. You're 10 minutes late. Seems like you're not being very committed to your studies." He clenched his jaw and his pair of brow furrowed.

"I'm sorry I was j-"

"Was just expecting 'daddy' to fix it with his money?" He stood up and mocks, pertaining to your father offering a grant to your school.

"No... sir, I just ran into my friends." You opposed, looking down at the floor.

"Are they gone?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Sit down." He sighs.

In a heartbeat, you sat down in a reclining chair right next to the table. He walks up to you, taking his crotch inches away from your face.

"Good girl." He takes your chin to look up at him. The view made your heart race and your cunt twitch.

"You think I'm not aware of your lustful eyes, hermosa?" He looks directly into your eyes with his hands still on your chin. Your eyes gawks and your face slowly turns red, not knowing what to say.

"Mr- Sir, I uh, I'm here for extra credits." You stuttered.

"Uh huh, what else?" He leans down, not breaking an eye contact.

"Uhhh... um m-my dad can pay you!" You blurted out of nowhere. You didn't know what to say since your mind is occupated by dirty thoughts but now you just seemed like a brat.

"Daddy's money hmm?"

"I'm your daddy here." He whispered roughly onto your ear, his hands shifted from your chin into your neck, gently gripping under your jaws.

"Daddy?" You spoke weakly.

"That's right, bitch." He replied with smirk.

You kind of expected this as a cliché porn category but you had no idea that you're gonna experience this in real life.

"You want credits? You little slut?" He cups the side of your cheeks and leans back to watch your face near his pants again.

"Yes! Yes, I want it." You nodded in agreement.

"Then earn it." He grabs a fistful of your hair and rubs it softly in his black pants with a huge bulge on it. You can smell his essence leaking from the fabric. This is all you ever dreamed of since the first day of school, you didn't think it would happen but it DID. All of your fantasies, clothed in black, sliding across your face.

You unbuttoned his pants in a hurry, dropping his undergarments down then finally busting his dick in front of you.

"Good girl." He slapped your face and you loved it. You proceeded to wet your lips to seduce him. He gripped on your hair tighter as you lick the tip of his 8-inch fat cock.

"Fuck." He groans, his voice deep and hoarse. You licked his length, wetting it together with his pre-cum leaking from the tip then swirled your tongue in its head while jerking him off.

"Holy shit you're good." The corner of his lip curling upwards.

He started throat fucking you, his head thrown back, moaning in pleasure. His cock reached your throat but you continued to take it until your eyes water. Miguel likes the way you look, internally choked by his massive cock.

He drags you up and makes you open your mouth as you spread your tongue that still has his pre-cum.

"Swallow." He ordered and you followed. You showed him an empty tongue to prove it.

"I'm gonna fucking destroy you." He places his hand on your chin to squeeze your face and starts kissing you roughly, like you've taken something from him. This is exactly how you want it. It's wet, sloppy and aggressive.

His kisses trailed down on your neck, you let him take off your clothes, even tear it up. He threw your designer clothes in the air like it was nothing. You would let this man do anything to you.

He began to roam his hands all over your body, from pumping your breasts down to your vagina, already dripping. He circles his middle finger on your clit sensually.

"You want this?" Miguel asks between the kisses.

"Uh huh." Your mouth can't form a proper word but a moan. He slaps you again, wanting you to say it clearly.

"You want this, you whore?!" He dips his hand on your hole, teasing you.

"Yes daddy, do it!" A high pitch pornographic whine came out of your mouth.

He then crooks his head onto your neck, leaving marks as he rams his finger up in your hole, sounds of wet squelching, moans and ass slaps filled the corners of his office. He reaches for the back of your clit inside your tight cunt and it drove you crazy. Your eyes roll at the back of your head. Unlike your other sexual partners, Miguel knows all about human anatomy.

"I'm gonna fuck the shit out of you." He takes your hands from his cock to your back, pulls his belt out of his pants and then ties your wrists.

"Yes please, I've been dreaming of this." You replied while he bends you over on the desk.

"Oh I bet you do you fucking slut." Miguel teases the tip of his cock on your clit, both wet from foreplay.

"Please fuck... fuck me."

Without any reply, Miguel rams his long and fat dick inside you, filling your walls with euphoria.

You groaned in pain after he put his full length in.

"Daddy it hurts."

"Nah, you can take it cariño." He reassures then pins your head on the desk while thrusting deep on your leaking hole.

"You... You've been spending a lot of time with that Parker boy huh? You like him?" He asks curiously, grabbing your hair.

"No, please he's with Gwen." You explained.

"You guys fuckin? Huh?" He ignores your answer while pounding at your pussy, making you scream in pain and pleasure.

"No daddy, Pleaaase.... I only want you. I want youuu." He grabs your tits from the back, holding it for support as his pace goes slower, making it comfortable for you.

"That's my girl. Now I'm gonna make you mine." His last words before sucking the skin off of your neck, leaving love marks that is visible to everyone.

"Ironman's daughter, pumping on my dick with her drenched punani. What's he gonna do? Save you?" He laughs devilishly. At this point you didn't care about your reputation. Your body wants him, even your cunt pulses everytime you peak behind your back to see him using you.

"You're my daddy, please fuckin destroy me." You surrendered. Miguel removes his belt on your wrists and puts it back as he pins it over your head in missionary position. Now, he can see your face while he fucks you, your lips smeared in red lipstick, smiling psychotically. Becoming undone by the stroke of his dick, his hands playing with your nipples and the other holding your wrists.

Your smile made him excited. His thrusts go faster and faster as you scream his name. "Mr. O'hara I'm cumming." You whined. It made him chuckle, you using honorifics despite your pussy currently being destroyed. He bit his lips, carried you by the hips, using you as his fucktoy. He pumps his dick in your tight little hole in a doggy position. Your feet doesn't even touch the floor because of your height difference. You simply just hang in the air with your pussy continously getting pounded.

"Shit shit shit I'm cumming." He whimpers.

"Cum inside daddy." It's the first time you had sex without protection and now you want him to cum inside you.

"That's right, princesa."

He continued plunging his sword into your uterus ramming even harder, seconds later, he busts his load. Your pussy's leaking with his thick cum all the way to your thighs. He lets go of your hips and places you on the table, back arched, pussy flowing.

He puts your panties back without cleaning your pussy, only the sides and the extra cum dripped on your legs and thighs.

"You did great, mija" He kisses your forehead.

"I did?"

"Yes you did." He smiles softly, saying it like he's a proud mentor.

After that encounter, he kept you as his pet, your friends noticed the hickeys on your neck every now and then and your alibi is always getting burnt by the hair curler. Flash Thompson even joked that the hair curler you're talking about is Mr. O'Hara.

Even if you denied it and threatened him with a lawsuit, It's obvious. Your lustful stares in the classroom, the special treatment you get in class above all the other students.

At times when the corridor is empty, he would grope your ass, spank it and squeeze it until you reach the classroom, walking in together at the same time. Your friends would always ignore the same smell coming out of you and Mr. O'hara. Fucking in every empty room, any chance that you get. You've certainly become the teacher's pet.

#miguel x reader #professor miguel #miguel o'hara x reader #spider man smut #across the spiderverse #oscar isaac #marvel #marvel smut #degrading k1nk #mcu smut #oscar issac imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara #Spotify

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓐 𝓟𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄 𝓞𝐅 𝓐𝐑𝐓 .ᐟ

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ bio prof!miguel 𝓍 art prof!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚  ˖  ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  the university hired a new art professor. she is the talk of the town, capturing everyone’s attention, especially the handsome biology professor.

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕  ˖  ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  college!au, coworkers to lovers, pure fluff, sorta slow-burn, some swearing, miguel is smitten af

( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ there aren’t many professor!miguel x professor!reader fics out there so i decided to write one. ♡

after a long yet dreadful lecture, his morning class was his least favorite and includes some of his least favorite students, it was finally break time. stirring his freshly made coffee with a spoon, miguel takes a sip. a low hum of approval escapes him, pleased with the taste of the sugar and cream within the coffee. he remains standing by the counter, avoiding the other professors in the lounge. it’s not that he doesn’t necessarily likes his colleagues, well there were a few that were a pain in the ass, he’s just not a big social guy. in full honesty, he is only friends with two colleagues. other than that, no one else.

he lives on his own, making bank as a biology professor and occasionally boxes. hardly goes out because that isn’t his thing and sees no point of doing so. plus the amount of lab reports and projects he grades always keeps him occupied. boxing at the local boxing place that’s a few blocks away from his apartment building is the only time he has for himself. just a simple man living his life.

although, his love life says a different story. miguel can’t even recall the last time he engaged with a woman. maybe months? or possibly a year? in conclusion, it’s been a hot minute. it’s not that he’s desperate. his job has been kicking his ass, always keeping him busy that he doesn’t have time to date.

while thinking about the upcoming project he has planned, a slightly aggressive pat on the shoulder snaps him out of his thinking.

“so, how was the morning class?” peter, a physics professor and one of the two friends/colleagues, asked with a sly smirk on his face.

miguel lets out an annoyed grunt, rolling his eyes. “you know the answer to that, parker.” he takes another sip of his coffee.

“aw come on. is it really that bad? or maybe you’re just a shitty professor and are the reason why you have least favorite students.” peter jokes.

the tall brooding man shoots him a glare, earning a chuckle from his colleague.

peter raise his hands in the air as a sign of defense. “relax, miguel. try living up for once.” he lets out another chuckle at the end.

before he could answer back, the sounds of gasps and excitement comes from the entrance of the lounge room. miguel turn his head in that direction to find several colleagues huddled around something. his brows furrowed in confusion when he can’t see whatever is attracting attention. just as one person moves to the side, the center of attention is revealed.

a woman dressed in a cozy outfit with little white heels, hair flowing down freely. you greet the staff members with a gentle smile, appreciating their kind greetings and welcomes. of course as your first day, you’re a bit nervous but the kindness and empathy from others calms you a little. maybe it’ll be okay.

the way miguel’s eyes dilated drastically at the sight of you. his lips partially opened in pure astonishment. wow he discovered the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. can beauty even describe you the best? the way your lips curl up into a smile just warms his heart, or practically his entire soul. he doesn’t even know you yet he’s completely mesmerized.

“oh yeah, that’s the new art professor. [y/n] [l/n]. heard she’s very nice.” peter said before taking a sip of his coffee, making miguel snap out of trance.

what a beautiful name, truly compliments with your angelic face. and an art professor? it suits you, based off on your appearance. miguel is utterly captivated, enthralled by you. wow — he has never felt like this about a woman before and that surprises him. sure, he had his share in the past but this was different. you are like the rare, hidden flower in the garden that hasn’t been picked yet but too fragile to be picked at all. you are the sun that shines vibrantly after a thunderstorm, providing such warmth and light.

you are a piece of art.

suddenly, the immense desire to reach out to you consumes miguel entirely. he yearns to speak with you, to know about you. although, considering it’s been a long time since he had done that sorta thing, he feels a bit anxious to do so.

nevertheless, you captured his attention.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

that opportunity came quick when he caught you in the teacher’s lounge again one day. surprisingly, you both take your lunch break at the same time. while engaging in a conversation with his other friend and fellow colleague jessica, a political science professor, his eyes lit up slighty as you entered the room. whatever jessica was babbling about was completely blocked out in his ears, his eyes solely fixated on you. miguel’s brows furrowed a little as he watched you pick an empty table near the back corner. deep in his heart, he wanted you to sit with him so you wouldn’t be alone. his expression didn’t go unnoticed by jessica, causing her to raise a brow at him. turning around to see what got his attention, the invisible light bulb on top of her head turned on.

“you should ask if she wants to join us.” she suggests, turning back and continues eating her pasta without making eye contact with him.

his eyes snap back at her, eyebrows raised in surprise. “what?”

the woman rolled her eyes in annoyance. she isn’t blind, she knew of miguel’s little crush on you ever since she caught him staring at you one day in the hallways. “just go over and ask, you dumbo.”

miguel shoots her a deadpanned look. yeah, if only it were so easy, he thought. why is he so hesitant, anxious to ask a person a simple question? however, you weren’t just a regular person to him, were you?

before he could answer back, his eyes turns to you as you walked past his table and head over to the counter. miguel slightly turns to the observer you. he definitely didn’t expect you to walk past him, which surprised him wholeheartedly. what he didn’t see though is the smirk on jessica’s face.

using the microwave, you placed the small container of teriyaki chicken and white rice inside. after warming it up for a minute, you take it out and stir it with a fork to balance out the temperature so one side isn’t hotter than the other.

just as you’re walking back to your table, jessica kicks miguel’s leg under the table as a sign for him to ask you the damn question. he quickly shoots her a glare, which she returns one as well. knowing how stubborn he is, jessica decides to do it for him.

“hey, you’re [y/n], right? the new art professor?” she asked with a gentle smile.

you stop in your tracks, right in front of their table. “oh yes!” you chirped, returning the smile.

what a heavenly voice, miguel thought. it smooths his ears gracefully. it would definitely ease his workaholic mind in an instant.

“nice to meet you, [y/n]. i’m jessica but you can call me jess. this is miguel.” she gestured at the broad man sitting across from her.

you turn and flash him a kind smile.

his heart fluttered and cheeks flushed at the sight of your gorgeous smile. he is such a bashful mess. you’re even more beautiful up close.

“you would like to sit with us? we know you’re new here and thought you could use some friends.” jessica elaborated, really emphasizing on the ‘we’ which earned her a glare from miguel.

your eyes lit up at the suggestion, smiling. “oh sure! how nice of you guys! lemme just go grab my stuff real quick.” you said before walking away, heading back to the table to gather your belongings.

jessica turns to face miguel. “you’re welcome.” she said flatly before taking a bite of her pasta.

miguel rolled his eyes in annoyance, upset that jessica did the simple task he was supposed to do and yet — he couldn’t. damn his anxiety. although, he is pleased that you agreed sit with them. maybe now he’ll get the chance to get to know you. he should probably thank jessica afterwords.

you return with your tote bag and sat down in the free seat between miguel and jessica. his eyes followed your every movement, secretly admiring you. he can’t help the feeling of his heart beating faster now that you’re right there, in front of him in all of your glory. as you babbled about yourself, miguel was attentive to every word, learning all the things about you. he could listen to you all the time, your angelic voice soothes him. his heart warmed at the sight whenever you smiled while talking about your hobbies and things you’re passionate about.

he admired the beautiful artwork in front of him.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

things got more intriguing when you stumbled upon his classroom one day. he was in the middle of grading lab reports when he heard heels clicking and a knock of the door. turning his head in that direction, miguel found you standing in the doorway with a smile that graced your gorgeous lips.

“hey, sorry for bothering you.” you said sweetly.

“you’re never a bother.” he replied quickly, offering a small smile in return. miguel truly meant that; you were never a bother. he’d stop whatever he’s doing and put all of his attention on you.

“i accidentally brought too much pasta and i don’t wanna waste it. plus, i assume you haven’t eaten since you weren’t at the lounge today. do you want the rest?” you asked with a soft smile, holding up the small plastic container in your hand.

god miguel fell even harder for you than he already did in the beginning. what a kindhearted and caring soul. he didn’t even realized that he hasn’t eaten or brought anything yet you remembered and were kind enough to offer your leftover pasta.

“that’s kind of you. are you sure?” miguel asked.

you softly smiled at him. “of course. can’t leave with an empty stomach, need the energy.” you walk over to his desk and hand over the container of pasta.

his heart fluttered when you approached, faint stains of pink on his cheeks. his eyes land on the container, gingerly taking it from your grasp. his fingers lightly brushed against yours, feeling your soft skin which made his heart jump in anticipation.

“thank you.” he mirrors your smile, reflecting the kindness you offered to him.

you simply smile with a nod before walking out of his classroom, leaving him smitten to the core.

that was beginning of your bond.

the next encounter was during your lunch break, which both of your breaks happen to be at the same time, miguel caught you sitting by yourself in the lounge peacefully eating while writing something in a planner of sorts. he build the courage and took the chance to approach you. his heart fluttered the moment your eyes perked up when you saw him, that beautiful smile on your glossy lips. you immediately said yes for him to sit with you which made miguel happy.

“writing down something important?” he asks softly, pointing at your planner.

you nod happily with a hum. “just writing down things i need to do for the week. i really like planners, they’re such a great tool. plus, i’m a very organized person so i like to write out schedules and stuff.”

wow just by how you explained in such a simple gentle way yet hints of passion in your tone is so captivating to him. miguel admires that trait of yours, organization is an important skill for maintaining your lifestyle. he values that skill as well but probably not as well and neat like you. he continues to be enthralled by you.

“i’m organized also. well, i try to be but all the grading and assignments have been—“

“time consuming.” you finish his sentence with that iconic soft smile that always warms his heart.

miguel stares at you astonishingly for a moment but ultimately smiles back. you truly understand the difficulties of balancing work and personal affairs as a professor yourself. honestly, any worker would understand. jobs are undoubtedly time consuming but never forget to focus on your personal life.

you two share a moment of pleasant silence, a mutual understanding while smiling at each other.

“so what inspired you to purse a passion for art?” miguel was very curious to know how you developed such a passion with art. even though science is his main route, he likes learning about other subjects especially those he isn’t fully familiar with. art is one of them and miguel would love to know from you.

he didn’t miss the way your smile grew bigger at the question. “since i was a child, i drew a lot. my parents told me i had a gift, how creative i was in my drawings even at a young age. in school, whenever i was bored or done with an assignment, i would doodle in my notes and people would compliment on my drawings. as i grew, my skills improved then i realized that what i wanted to do in my life.”

miguel was attentive to every word and was still amazed by you. he could imagine the amount of pages with your little drawings inside. they would be in the corners if they were small, on the center if they were big. he noticed you wear floral print commonly so miguel assumed most drawings were flowers.

you are a flower; a very elegant one.

“wow that’s amazing, truly inspiring and admirable. i don’t doubt your talent, your work must be incredible.” miguel said sincerely with a smile.

a bashful smile creeps onto your lips, very faint hints of blush on your cheeks. “you’re too kind, thank you. i want to reflect my passion onto my students, inspiring them to develop a passion of their own. to show how admirable yet alluring art can be.“

how passionate you are with your work captivates him in so many ways. how brightly you smile, the softness in your tone, your gorgeous eyes lighting up with each phrase. he adores it so much.

it’s like miguel is looking at a piece of art right in front of him.

a piece of artwork he deeply admires.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

one day, you took miguel to an art museum since he revealed he has never visited one before. he was captivated by every piece. a smile formed on your face when you watched him stare in awe at an oil painting of still-life flowers. those brown irises tracing each detail of the beautiful painting. the texture, emphasis, contrast, and value. the vibrant colors and how beautifully blended they are. you explained to miguel the principles of art and elements of design, providing a little art lesson. you could tell he was truly fascinated by it all.

you head over to the sculpture section to look at iconic greek, egyptian and roman sculptures. you glance at a greek sculpture, admiring its beauty. you elaborate on the significance of nudity in ancient greek art, the male form as the true peak human form. miguel was truly astonished by that information but mainly with your knowledge.

“you would be a perfect greek sculpture.” you whispered, leaning a bit towards him.

he looks at you with a little smirk, amused by your comment. “really?”

you nod with a smile, titling your head a bit. “greek sculptors would’ve adored, admired your form. they would probably say you are the perfect form.”

that smirk turned into a smile, mirroring yours. “would probably take ages to sculpt me.” a low chuckle escaped his plump lips, making you chuckle as well which warmed his heart.

“maybe but it would be worth it.” you softly smile.

after your little art adventure, it was miguel’s turn to share his passion. he brought you to his classroom to demonstrate a lab his students recently did. you sat and observed his work, admiring how passionate and concentrating he is. it was clear miguel wanted to impress you, and in fact he did which he was proud of. biology is an incredible topic, how extraordinary living organisms truly are.

“it’s so extraordinary.” you commented while looking at cells through a microscope.

“it is, huh?” miguel quirks an eyebrow with arms folded over his chest, a smile gracing his lips as he watches you from the side.

you nod as you look up from the microscope, mirroring his smile. “yes, biology or science in general is just extraordinarily fascinating.”

he can’t help but smile more at your comment, how sweetly you talk about his passion as if it’s yours as well. miguel was seriously head over heels for you.

“so is art.” he said softly, smiling.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

onwards, you two would hangout together in the teachers lounge or in each other’s classrooms during whenever you two weren’t teaching. you got to know one another. each others hobbies, families, friends, movies and shows you enjoy. surprisingly, you have a few things in common, especially in movies. both of you are suckers for sci-fi and thriller films. when you mentioned your favorite movie was terminator, oh miguel started babbling like crazy and conversing with you how fantastic of a movie it is. you two were really engaged in that conversation. miguel was more fond of you than ever, pleased to know you two share common interests. you could say the same as well. you enjoyed spending time with him, discussing topics you both enjoyed. you grew fond of him too.

as time went, you two continued hangout even outside of working hours. you’d spend time at cafés, restaurants, or at each other’s homes. it was a beautiful bond, such a deep connection you two possessed. you continued learning new things about each other during these cute outings. miguel never felt so alive and human. it was refreshing to be not cooped up in his apartment, grading assignments during unholy hours. free from torment, a prison. hanging out with you, he felt happy and comfortable. talking to someone who radiates kindness, who views him not as a coworker but as a person. miguel never felt so vulnerable valued by anyone. that made him realize he was falling in love with you.

after much time of those special bonding days, your true feelings were finally revealed. during one night in miguel’s apartment while watching a movie and sipping coffee, he confessed his feelings. when he did, he was anxious for your reaction. negative thoughts plagued his mind. what if you didn’t feel the same? what if you only view him as a friend and nothing more? luckily, those thoughts were proven wrong when you confessed the same feelings too. miguel had never felt so happy in his life.

that was the moment you shared your first kiss.

and from that moment onwards, you and miguel spent the rest of your lives together in pure happiness and everlasting love.

two souls together in a beautiful painting.

ᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁. 𝓣𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓  ˖ ࣪ ༘  @x0tw0d57 @nakedcrackers @peachipeachy @arlovesper @loves0phelia @eatalyy @kawaii-angelanne @migoharawife @corpsebridenightamare

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓞𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 .ᐟ #bio professor!miguel #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #oneshot

[360iris]

not quite learned | professor!miguel o’hara x reader

2k+ word count. small content warning that it is a student/teacher relationship fic, so feel free to skip this one if that’s not your thing. 18+ afab!m/c.

haven’t written, or been insanely active in the fandom, in a good two months maybe? trying to get out of that, hope this is enjoyable to someone <3

Only one thing is for certain, Miguel didn’t intend for things to go this far. But during a brief moment of reflection, he supposes none of the men like him ever really do.

The opportunity arises, and because he’s weak, fundamentally weak to your doe-like eyes, sweet voice and gentle affection— he gives into his impulses, willingly falls victim to his circumstances.

He hadn’t known that you would be so addictive, that once he gave in, there wouldn’t be another point at which he could regain his sane and working mind.

—

You were in his last class of the day, and as was your purely studious custom, you stayed after to ask whatever burning academic questions were plaguing you that day.

In the dark recesses of his thoughts, as he looked you over with a purposefully disinterested dark stare, he privately referred to your choice of presentation as obscenely feminine.

Especially with how you were dressed now— in a thin and lacey, thigh-length dress. Your ears and collarbones decorated with delicate silver jewelry and the tiniest, fucking light pink ribbons wrapped at the ends of two, neat plaits of hair.

He was close to rolling his eyes at that last detail. Finding himself desperately wanting to hate you for making his days significantly more difficult, with just the addition of your presence alone. And if not for the fact that you were always so sweet to him— never failing to brighten his day with your way always approached with an enthusiastically cheerful, “Hey, Miguel!”, he would have successfully manifested, and actively nurtured a deep hatred for you.

Instead, as you ask for pointers on how to proceed with your essay, he sighs deeply and gives an acquiescent nod. “Let me see what you’ve written so far.” He answers in a bored huff, ignoring the way you smile appreciatively at him, before promptly turning on your heel to retrieve your laptop.

You’d set your bag down in one of the front seats of the classroom, and as you bend over the small desk surface to pull open the zipper, Miguel’s eyes are fixed on the way your dress hikes up. And for just a brief moment, the backs of your creamy thighs are exposed to him. He can’t help but take the time to stare, catching a rare glimpse of a part of you he wouldn’t otherwise get to see.

Tearing his eyes away just as you free your computer, he swallows thickly as he watches you approach.

Setting the device in front of him, you choose to stand beside where he currently sat at his desk, leaning forward as you scrolled through the draft of your written assignment.

His mouth and brain were operating separately, delivering level headed advice on one end while focusing on all things concerning you on the other.

He couldn’t care less about the assignment. The older man quickly found that he was more than willing to give you full marks and be done with it, if it meant he could center in on how smooth your skin looked, or how pink your lips were and whether you smelled more like vanilla, or lotus and warmed honey.

During the fifteen minutes he’d spent giving you small pointers on how to push your essay in the right direction, he remained on his best behavior, not once straying off topic or letting his desires get the best of him.

You’d thanked him softly, beginning to put away your laptop and he’d almost patted himself on the back for making it through the interaction when you suddenly pulled a small glass container from your bag.

It held cookies— vanilla something or another, that you had made especially for him, as thanks for his patience with you so far. A supply of patience that seemed to evaporate the second you displayed the baked treats in front of him.

He doesn’t really know what happened next, how A got to B is still a mystery to him, but before he knew it the container of cookies and your bag lay strewn and long forgotten on the floor.

You were so tiny compared to him, his left hand capable of not only cupping your chin but the entire lower half of your face, easily squeezing your cheeks and lips together in the snug hold he has on you.

Miguel didn’t think this far ahead— doesn’t know what possessed him to clear the distance in three or less steps and have you locked in his grasp. But the way you look up at him, not in fear, but quiet anticipation has him considering that perhaps it’d be okay to test the waters further.

“Mr. O’Hara?” Your voice comes out small as you blink up at him, as though there wasn't a doubt in your mind that you were entirely innocent. And in that moment, he couldn't help it, he had to laugh right in your face.

It’s the first time you’ve ever heard or seen him appear anywhere remotely near amused, that it would’ve left you unsettled even if the notes didn’t fall flat. The sound of his ‘laughter’ coming across as sardonic and wholly mocking, the ‘mirth’ he apparently felt not quite reaching his eyes.

“Mr. O’Hara?” He repeats quietly, a dark smirk twinging his lips. As the seconds ticked by, you were starting to feel more and more like a butterfly caught in his web. “What happened to Miguel?”

You merely look up at him, a bit lost for words as he greedily eyes your form.

“You know- just while we’re on the subject, I never gave you explicit permission to call me by my first name. You started that on your own.” He hums, voice even and quiet. “It’s the same way I never explicitly told you that I was free after class… Do you know why that is? Do you have a guess?”

“No?” He asks rhetorically, shaking your head for you when you don’t immediately answer, Miguel leaning down to allow his lips to ghost your ear. “It’s because these aren’t my office hours, mi reinita. That’s what you are, you know. A little queen. That’s exactly how you act, calling me by my first name… taking up my time when you want it. When it suits you.”

“I’m sorry, M-“ You begin apologizing before his hand cupping your face suddenly tightens, not enough to hurt, but just enough to stop you from speaking.

“No quiero disculpas.” He says dismissively, waving you off with his free hand. His speech was quiet, each sentence perfectly enunciated, teasing almost. “Words don’t mean much, actions are everything. Like the cookies you made for me, that’s cute but… I don’t want cookies either.”

His free hand comes to rest on your hip, large and warm as it traces the outline of your waist.

“What do you think?” He asks, his voice soft but his tone coming across as a touch condescending. “Think you can make up for your bad behavior some other way?”

You nod feebly in reply, though the gesture doesn’t seem enough for him as he loosens his grip on your face. “Say it.” He orders evenly.

Your lips part, sucking in a shaky breath as you struggle to maintain eye contact. He was intimidating like this, towering over you, fully caging you in. “I wanna make up for my bad behavior, Mr. O’Hara.”

And it appears to do the trick, because his eyes darken and his jaw ticked as he looked down at you like he was seconds away from devouring a meal whole.

“Dicho como una niña buena.” He replies quietly, lids low. His face was so close to yours, air fanned your cheeks as he spoke. “Is that what you’re gonna be for me, mi reinita? Are you going to be a good girl?”

“Yes, sir.” You answer, voice barely above a whisper.

“Typically, I’d want to keep my eyes on your face but—“ He trails off, turning you in the opposite direction before you feel him place a hand at your back, wordlessly instructing you to lean forward until your torso is lying flush against the front row desk. “It’s not everyday that I get to see this end of you.”

Face hovering over the table with your hands laid flat against its surface, you attempt to focus on your breathing, trying your best not to fidget in place as he lifts the hem of your dress until your ass is on full display.

Miguel lets out a low whistle as he registers the lace cream thong you’re fitted in, his eyes drifting up the length of your body. “You’re a little naughty underneath too, aren’t you?”

“Maybe just… a bit prepared.” You answer quietly, cheek pressing into the desk as you look back at him over your left shoulder. And Miguel is finding that it’s harder and harder to think as more and more blood is redirected from his brain to somewhere more easily excitable.

“Walking around campus ready to be bent over, hm?” He asks, not expecting an answer as he runs his finger underneath the strap of the waistband. “All the pink ribbons and lace is just a distraction, isn’t it? Otherwise people would know what you really want.”

“What is it that I want, Professor?” You ask innocently, playing the part of being just a touch naive, your bottom wiggling the smallest amount as you attempt to discreetly ease the slowly growing ache between your thighs.

If Miguel catches the movement, he doesn’t comment on it.

Brushing the pads of his fingers against your chubby folds, he prods at your entrance through the small area of fabric, not covering much of anything, experimentally. Pressing inside and allowing the pitiful excuse for underwear to go along with his digits.

“The same thing I want.” He answers simply, his poker face unreadable as you whimper at the odd but gratifying sensation he briefly grants you.

You watch in awe as he pulls the fabric aside, licking a wide strip along his middle and ring fingers, rubbing his slick digits at your cunt before dipping them inside of you.

Your mouth parts as he stretches you open, unceremoniously making room for himself in that warm and welcoming place between your legs.

“Mhm, that’s it…” He hums appraisingly as the slip and slide of his fingers gradually becomes increasingly easier as he massages your spongy walls.

Hooking his fingers inside of you, his wrist jostles about, causing your voice to slip out despite yourself as his pace increases. Your feet begin to lift off the floor from how spirited his ministrations become. Miguel’s hand glistening with your arousal, small droplets dripping from his skin and onto the dark carpeted flooring.

It becomes clear that you’re fighting a losing battle in the way the more you try to contain your voice, the harder he seems to work at getting you to audibly cry out despite the space the two of you are occupying.

“What are you holding back for?” He asks, as though he doesn’t know.

“B- because…” You protest in a high pitched shriek, clasping one of your hands to your mouth, the other gripping the edge of the desk to anchor yourself from how hard he’s fucking his fingers into you.

Leaning forward, Miguel playfully nips at your ear, the older man chuckling mischievously at how affected you are by him before he whispers, “Let me hear you.”

You frantically shake your head no, tears brimming in your eyes as your climax approaches.

Sure, you’d had fantasies about something like this occurring between the two of you— but never in a million years had you thought that you’d be pressed into the same desk you stressed about studying for your midterm at, minutes away from cumming on his fingers.

“Can’t, can’t.” You whine, your cries muffled against your palm as he shushes you.

“None of that,” He replies calmly, increasing his speed. “No more whining, niña preciosa. Just let go for me. You said you’d make it up to me, didn’t you?”

You nod weakly, lost in the way he’s making you feel. Lost in how lulling his voice is when he wants it to be.

“Then make it up to me.” He coos soothingly against your neck. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

#miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 smut #professor/student smut #miguel o’hara x reader

[angelyuji]

professor miguel o'hara headcanons :)

miguel o'hara x gender neutral reader

+ yandere headcanons!!!!

professor miguel o’hara would be so OFUAN:EOAFIDNWFBOWE”NJP sorry im just feral for him

professor o’hara would actually be the worst professor to get tbh like he’s a strict grader, he’s super anal about late turn-ins, all that jazz. like he’s got a shit ratemyprofessor rating… he’s the worst. he’s not the type to insult you or make you feel like shit for getting questions wrong or failing an exam HOWEVER he does say that if you fail an exam, just drop out cuz you’re not passing yeahhh he sucks lol

also he has a p.h.d in genetics and genomic sciences (totally didn’t just search up what the major is called and pasted it on here… definitely not) so he’s a huge stickler on being called doctor o’hara

however, when you mess up and say professor, he doesn’t seem to mind it all that much

professor o’hara who obviously has favorites (based on who participates more/does the best on exams)

Miguel would send students that come to him for help to students that do really well in the class (he does not care to reteach or help with essays) “you should’ve paid attention when i was explaining. im sure one of your classmates like (y/n) can help.”

motorcycle professor, office hours are always open for questions or concerns, he’s honestly chill just super strict and mean-looking

however no matter what, every single bitch has a crush on him… have you SEEEEEN him. yall know that scene in criminal minds when spencer reid is teaching a class and basically the entire class was auditing the class becuz he’s hot… yeah that except miguel o’hara is a lot meaner about chasing those people out.

yandere :0

:IBFP(I)IU*Y&^&TFRTCVGBHIK\

sorry

lemme set the scene, ur one of the smartest of your class, you’re his favorite student like ur pretty, smart, and kind to your classmate and honestly…. he was downright obsessed like mf knows ur entire class schedule, he knows ur address ur number ur email. e v e r y t h i n g

ur kindness to your classmates is gonna be ur downfall, someone (who is known to be a cheater) is gonna go to him asking for help on a project. miguel is gonna be like “lol im not helping u but yk who will? (y/n).” miguel knows that your classmate is gonna cheat, but that’s a part of the plan

they go up to you, ask to see ur project and when ur not looking, take pictures of ur research and everything. you won’t know a thing becuz ur a nice friend :)

you’ll just turn in ur stuff and chill. the next class after the due date, professor o’hara asks you to stay after class.

“(y/n), it looks like you and another classmate have almost exact project.” miguel turns his screen towards you, showing your project and your classmates

“what? dr. o’hara, i don’t know what’s going on, but i promise you, i didn’t cheat off of anyone.” you beg.

“i’m sure that we can get to the bottom of this, (y/n)…” miguel pretends to think for a second. “how about this, come to my office around 6. i think i’ll be done with classes for the day. we’ll have a chat.” he stands, rearranging his papers.

“of course. i’ll be there!” you thank him and rush out to meet your friends, holding back tears.

i mean, of course you’ll go to see your professor. you’ve been accused of plagiarism and that shit can get you expelled.

you knock on the door. “dr. o’hara?”

“come in.” you walk in, anxious to get the situation resolved. you see your professor sitting at his desk, but you don’t see your classmate.

“i thought the other person would here too…” you feel a weird sense of dread fill in your stomach.

“ms. (l/n), i don’t think we need them here for this discussion.” he motions for you to sit down at the chair. “plagiarism is a very serious offence.”

“professor, you can’t seriously believe that i copied off of them!” you’ve got the best grades in the class, you feel flabbergasted.

“ms. (l/n)!” he frowns.

you lower your head, ashamed, “i’m sorry, it’s just. they came up to me, asking for help…”

“i understand, (y/n), but do you have any physical proof of that?” you stay silent. “i can… find a way to help you, but… you’re gonna have to do something for me, (y/n).” miguel leans in and you feel that dread in your stomach worsen, but you have no other choice.

“of course, professor! anything!”

eDTRUTYGYH*(J)(_)_JIHUUGYFR^%&T*Y(UOIJL

he’s gonna take advantage of your situation. at first, it’ll be like secret dates, small (expensive) gifts at your door, then it moves up.

soon, he’s making you come to his home, making you stay overnight….

it was raining when you had went over and the rain was getting worse. his house was in the middle of a neighborhood in the woods, everything about this situation was grossing you out. “dr. o’hara, i don’t-” you, hesitantly, walk through the doors into his home.

“miguel. i’ve told you, (y/n). you should call me miguel when we’re alone.” he smiles at you and locks the door behind you.

“right… miguel, i don’t think that this is appropriate.” you look around his home. it was quaint, clean… almost like it wasn’t even lived in. you would’ve thought it was a random rental if it wasn’t for his diplomas framed on the wall.

“(y/n), do i need to remind you of our deal?” he looks at you, and for the first time since this situation started, you felt afraid. miguel disappears into the kitchen and you decide to step back closer to the front door, itching to run. “(y/n),” he pops his head out and smiles, “take a seat at the dining table.” you see fangs in his mouth and your fear grows.

dinner goes by uneventfully, but you feel uneasy as miguel chats it up with you. he had been too… nonchalant about the arrangement, but this was a new development. he wouldn’t ask you questions about yourself, but he somehow knew everything about you. it creeped you out. “if dinner is over, i should go home.” you stand, pushing back your chair.

he grabs your hand, “there’s no need to rush, (y/n)… unless,” he lets go and leans back in his chair, thinking. you freeze. “if you want to leave, i can always go to the board and tell them about your essay.” miguel shrugs and gets up.

“no! no… i’m sorry, doctor- sorry, miguel, i’m not leaving.” you sit back down.

miguel laughs, straightening, “you’re so cute, sweetheart. i’ll go get dessert.” he steps back into the kitchen. you grab your phone and text your roommate asking for help, but they don’t respond. miguel walks out with two plates of cheesecake. he continues to talk to you, asking about your classes for next semester. you gingerly answer his questions and eat, eager to finish and go home. you look behind miguel’s head and notice that the rain had gotten worse. if you didn’t leave now, you’d get stuck here.

“i should get going then.” you carefully place the fork down. “the rain is getting pretty bad.” miguel turns to look and you check your phone. still no response. miguel hums as the rain pelts the ground. he looks back at you.

“any minute now.” he doesn’t say anything else.

“ha, yeah. it’ll get worse any minute now.” you repeat and stand up. all of a sudden, your head spins. you stumble and grab your chair. immediately miguel is at your side, helping you steady. your head won’t stop spinning and you hear your words slurring, “fuck, i don’t feel good.” miguel picks you up with ease, holding you bridal-style. “put me down, please, miguel. i need to go home.” you feel yourself lose consciousness and lay your head against miguel’s chest, too tired and dizzy to fight.

“everything is okay, (y/n). all you need is me.”  the last thing you feel as miguel whispers in your ear, is a kiss against your forehead.

#like and reblog <3 #gender neutral reader #yandere x reader #yandere #x reader #stalking #yandere marvel #yandere spiderman #yandere miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #kidnapping #power imbalance #professor x student #pervy professor #but also #strict professor o'hara #manipulation #tw drugging

[darkfoxkirin]

Professor Miguel! (Miles is totally drooling in his seat rn…)

#professor au #teacher au #art #spiderman #fan art #fandom #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #Spanish for dummies #yes he’s the Spanish teacher #fangflower #Flowerfang #miguel x miles

[khujoor]

HEARTS ARE RED, LIKE BLOOD. yandere miguel o'hara.

yandere miguel o'hara x g/n reader

- two updates weekly

syn. being a professor and a murder isn't a good look for miguel o'hara. oh, and being in love with a student of yours isn't either.

taglist? comment or ask!

follow @ihrtzhonglii on instagram for snippets & more!

#miguel spiderman #spider verse #miles spiderman #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman x reader #miguel ohara #miguel #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere teacher #yandere professor #university au #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #angst #spider gwen #pavitr prabhakar #spiderman atsv #atsv #atsv miles #atsv hobie #hobie spiderverse

[cupcakeinat0r]

A Nerdy Middle-aged loser Miguel with a dad bod who teaches your genetics class

In celebration of 1k followers, I give you Pt.5 <3

Enjoy! - Cupcake

Since that day you kissed Miguel on the cheek, the dynamic of y’all’s relationship had totally changed, but not drastically. Miguel was back to acting soft towards you, greeting you upon your somewhat late arrivals, getting you little gifts that reminded him of you, and the subtle exchange of glances in class.

Professor O’Hara was a little handsy during your tutoring sessions before, but now he was even more so, your little peck on his cheek was all the encouragement he needed. For sure, his job was on the line since anyone could’ve walked in and seen the two of you like this, but it was worth the risk. Just as long as you both acted this way in his office, the coast was clear.

The head messages had doubled, footsies was played underneath his desk, and he’d even find any excuse to have his hand on yours while you both worked independently, sitting in peaceful silence with each other. You found it hard to complete the research questions when his thumb kept caressing your knuckles, yet, you never protested. His flirt game was rusty, his advances limited to innocent touching and praise, but nonetheless, it was adorable to you the way he tried.

After that day in his office, tutoring sessions became less about tutoring and more just about being in each other’s company. Instead of spending an hour practicing formulas, you both would mingle while organizing the lecture hall or filing research papers. Anything to help Prof. O’Hara, or rather Miguel, since y’all are officially on a first-name basis.

A new development was when you started staying after to help him grade papers. The two of you would use this time to talk one-on-one more, no one there to interrupt. Miguel was just as handsy during this time, too. As mentioned before, he’d find any excuse to touch you, and in the most innocent ways. For example, if he saw a strand of your hair falling on your face while you were grading a paper, he’d simply tuck it behind your ear for you, or when the necklace he got you was crooked or facing the wrong side, he’d gently fix it for you while you spoke to him about one of your current interests, following along with low hums and ‘mhm’s. It’d make you blush and stutter mid-sentence, inflating his otherwise small ego.

Miguel wasn’t a very vocal person, you knew that, but you can see by his actions that he really really liked you. You continued to show your appreciation by leaving treats on his desk, keeping note that his favorite was black coffee and a quesito from the bakery he showed you on campus. A pastry not too sweet, and goes perfectly with a cup of cafécito.

But you were just too sweet and Miguel completely fell for it. He saw how eager you were to help other people in the class, and seeing how willing you were to stay with him to help him with anything you could. He admired that. It also confused him for so long because how has no one swept you off your feet? You were literally perfect? Certainly, people have tried, there’s no way he would believe that no one has. It’s apparent now that the both of you share feelings that are beyond platonic, it’s just a matter of time before someone makes the next move. Given the circumstances, for now, Miguel is taking things microscopically slow with you. He doesn’t wanna scare you off. The last thing he wants is to ruin his chance with you.

His feelings for you were growing, which slightly terrified him given that you are still, in fact, his student, no matter how grown you were. He couldn’t help it. His dreams about you were turning less lustful and more wholesome. When he sleeps, he would see himself coming home to you, cooking with you, reading books next to each other, or even cleaning with you. Just mundane day-to-day tasks, only they’re with you. Maybe for now, they’ll just stay in his dreams. Maybe.

<3

The lecture had just finished and you sent your new best friend, the transfer, away with a European farewell, kissing both of his cheeks. Without you knowing, Miguel watches on with an unamused smirk, remembering how he mistook your relationship with the transfer as a romantic one.

Before leaving the lecture hall, you strut towards Miguel to give him your now-routinely kiss goodbye (on the cheek, of course…). As you walk, you see that he’s crouched over his computer, tired eyes glossing over the screen. The fatigue of finals season is beginning to show on him, and it was a pitiful sight that made you purse your lips. Although it made you sad, you couldn’t help but let a small puff of air out your nose with how his glasses sat low on his nose. He never bothered to fix them, so you were the one who’d fix them oftentimes, and every time, he’d give you a small, “gracias, mama.”

You set down your bag, the thud of it hitting the floor finally stealing Miguel’s attention away from the blue-lit screen. He looks you up and down over his lenses, the small, fine lines of his face showing his age and you loved ittt.

“Sweetheart, as much as I love it when you stay and help, I’d be happier knowing you’re at home getting the rest you deserve.” He softly speaks, this version of himself that is so different from the one he presents in front of his class and colleagues.

“You worry too much, Miguel.” You plant yourself next to his chair, leaning down to get a better look at what on the computer has him so worked up. “Jesus, Miguel, no wonder you look sick.” You scroll through what seems like an endless list of students who signed up for office hours. With the amount that registered, Miguel would have to work even outside of his office hours.

From Miguel’s seated position, he has first-class access to your sweet perfume and a million-dollar view of your neck and chest, his mind wandering for a moment.

“Are you listening to me? This is ridiculous, there’s no way you’re cramming this amount of students… is there not another professor who could tutor as well?” the small raise of your voice is enough to bring his attention upward, not that that was any better of a view. Now, he was just looking at your lips, and how your lip plump makes them looks deliciously kissable. He imagined how’d they’d look if they were-

“Miguel O’Hara!” He blinks once or twice, gaining consciousness again, “Excuse me, uh, yeah, no, I’m the only one who can. For this class, I mean.” He rubs one of his eyes, letting out a sigh as he looks at the heavily packed schedule displayed on his desktop. “Anyways, it’s my responsibility. This was in the job description, so I gotta do what I gotta do.”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, hands on your hips, “Okay, but that doesn’t mean compromising your own health. There are healthy and efficient ways of doing your job, Mig.”

There’s that nickname he loved. He melted every time you used it, the familiarity of y’all’s relationship shining through the most when you did. He especially loved it when you were upset. He thought it was cute.

“Let me tutor some.” This snaps Miguel back to Earth, but this time, he’s in disbelief. “You’d tutor other students?” This was a rhetorical question, of course, he knew you were serious. He knew how big your heart was. He guessed he was just in disbelief because, once again, he was beguiled by the existence of a literal angel sent to Earth. He can’t believe he’s been blessed by your presence and friendship (?). You were so kind, so intelligent, so put-together, extremely gorgeous… you were utterly perfect.

“If splitting the work meant you got some sort of rest around here, then of course I would! Mig…” You grab the nearest chair and pull it to sit next to him, placing a hand on top of his. His hand relaxes under your touch, “You’ll work yourself to death like this.” You send a warmth onto his hand and up his arm you rub circles on his knuckles, the same way he does it to you.

“You’ve done so much for me, Miguel. Let me repay you, please? Please let me do this?” You bat your eyes, Miguel’s kryptonite.

Miguel turns his hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, seeing the genuinity in your eyes. He gives it a small squeeze before saying, “What did I do to deserve you, hm?” it comes out just above a whisper.

“Plenty, Miguel. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met,” you cock your head to the side, your eyes tracing the muscles of his broad shoulders, counting in your head all the possible knots buried deep in there,” Here, sit back, please.” You say sweetly, standing back up to travel to the back of his seat.

“What’re you up to?” His eyebrows raised, but he eased again when he felt your small hands massaging the crooks of his neck. “Sshhhh, just relax, Mig. It’s ok.”

He furrows his brows feeling the scrumptious pain of knots unfurling and tension melting away. You know you hit a good spot when he accidentally lets out small groans. You’re doing so good that it takes every thing in him to hold back any embarrassing moaning.

You can see his literal jaw unclench, happy to see him so relaxed. “Feel good?” You whisper in a sugary tone, Miguel nodding with his lips parted. With his eyes closed, you were able to closely examine all the features that make up his beautiful face. He was simply gorgeous.

“S’good mama… s’good…” he speaks under his breath as you knead out the stubborn knots on his neck. Once you feel like you’ve ridden all the points of tension there, you slowly work your toward his clavicle. He lets you unbutton the first three buttons of his polo sweater. With your whole hands, you apply pressure there, offering weighted comfort to the area.

Then you rub up and down slowly, the sensation of his chest hair tempting you to venture deeper down his thick torso. Due to the immense relaxation, Miguel’s head begins to fall back onto your stomach, so you step closer to give him extra support.

He hums when he feels both of your hands cup his face. You then remove his glasses so you can work on his temples. His eyes are still closed, but you can see his lips slightly curl, which makes you smile. You wonder what he’s thinking about,

Miguel is currently thinking about where he should get down on one knee for you. He’s thinking about what color you’d possibly want the cabinets to be in your shared home. He’s thinking about if y’all’s child will be as nerdy as him or as fashionable as you. Either way, he’d be the happiest man in the world. This train of thought is stopped by the sensation of your lips on his forehead. His heart stops as well.

Then he feels the soft smack of your lips on his left cheek, then his right, leaving behind a trail of lip gloss prints. Anticipating a potential fourth kiss somewhere specific, he slowly opens his eyes, your face inches from his. His head leans all the way back, resting against your stomach still.

It’s silent between the two of you. You both lock eyes, completely drowning in the other's gaze. No words were exchanged, but there didn’t need to be.

Seeing no other action fit for this perfect moment, Miguel raises his hand above him to cup your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You inch down closer, your heart racing. His is, too.

When your lips cannot move anymore without touching, in what would be considered “Spider-Man” style ;) , you both share a kiss, so sweet and innocent. The perfect first kiss. You’re the first to pull away, but not wanting to pull away just yet, Miguel pulls you back into his lips by adding his other hand to your head, extending the kiss just a bit longer. You weren’t complaining, you’d stay here forever if you could.

Feeling your knees getting weak, you shift all your weight onto Miguel, your hands traveling from the sides of his face back to his pecs underneath his sweater. This also deepens your kiss, so to deepen it even more, Miguel's hands wrap around the back of your neck. You both come up for air for just a mere second, Miguel breathlessly letting out a weak, “Please?”

knowing what he meant, slowly going back down again but this time, open-mouthed. Miguel groans into your mouth with the feeling of his tongue on yours, practically treating it like his lollipop. The kiss becomes hungrier with a nibble on your lip by Miguel, pulling on it while you get some needed air. It’s getting sloppy now, and your hands travel lower, meeting the softness of his belly. His breath hitches when he feels them there, half-expecting you to be revolted in any way, but your hands just sit there. In fact, you start messaging there as well, giving love to his whole body. Your hands drag up and down his whole torso with each wet collision of your lips. Your hands would go as low as the pudge sitting above his belt, all the way to up his knife-like jawline, and back down again, and repeat. It’s like you wanted him to know you worshipped his body, and Miguel wanted to show some in return.

Using his hands on the back of your head, he tapped you to pull away so that he could take your hand and guide you around his chair, pulling you to straddle his lap. “C’mere…”

Tongues are going down throats, moans are being heard, and hands are becoming desperate. The fingers tugging his hair, his hands squeezing the globes of your ass, him desperately lifting his hips to make some friction. It was like horny college kids fucking for the first time…. or at least maybe one of y’all felt that way. The other was just that. A horny college student.

There was no stopping either of you, except maybe for the knocking at the lecture hall door.

Both your heads snapped toward the thankfully semi-transparent, iced door. You scramble to get off Miguel’s lap, Miguel wiping your lip gloss off his face. You go to button his sweater and fix his hair as he calls out, “Just a moment.” You give him his glasses when you hear the voice of the student speaking about a tutoring session with Miguel through the door.

Miguel thinks he’ll go to the door, but he feels you grab his hand. “Hey,” you pull him in for one last peck, “I’ll take this one, mkay?” You smile up at him, a very dazed Miguel looking back at you. As far as he’s concerned, he’s floating right now.

“Anyways, it seems like someone,” you look down, motioning to the prominent bulge in his pants, “needs a moment to calm down.” You chuckle, practically gliding to the door as Miguel looks down at his excitement, wide-eyed and making his own way into his private office to… read about DNA Polymerase Replacement or something.

Want more Dadbod!Miguel? Here's my mastlist, bae!

A/n: I just wanted to thank you guys for 1k followers as well as all the appreciation on this lil story of mine<3 y’all so sweet n cewt, and it’s so much fun writing this fic n just writing in general! Ty for letting my creative juices fuel ur delulu <3 I also hope that this hot, wet, fat kiss made up for all the edging I’ve done, if not, sorry <3 Next chapter tho………….. but chu gotta stay tuned, yall hear meeeeee????

<3 Tags <3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson  @librababe99 @sariespi @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pomakori @rxckstarss @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow  @hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @ce3stvu @mintssanctuary @migueloharasoulmate @veyveys @theanbitchless @nebulositycloud @jh7ley @gothicteddybearhugs

#dadbod!miguel #professor!miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #mechanic miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel o’hara fluff #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel fic

[general-dweebous]

Imagine Miguel O’Hara agreeing to teach a few classes at alchemax regarding his recent studies, and- hear me out- instead of the typical “student crushes on teacher” trope, it’s the other way around

You’re right up front, and his stature already towers over yours, so you sitting down in front means you’re always craning your neck up to watch his explanations/demonstrations

Which of course means you’re constantly doe-eyeing him, making him have to pause and clear his throat. The genuine interest you show has his heart fluttering and he already knows LYLA is going to give him shit for it later. You’ve been coworkers, he always thought you were pretty, but this put you in a new light for him

He has to try hard to keep his stoic nature, but you truly make it difficult

#miguel as a professor???? #flustered Miguel?? #I wouldn’t be able to handle it #honestly he’s so UGH #I love him #let me make googly eyes at him #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #spider man 2099 #miguel x you #miguel x reader

[eyesxxyou]

I wanna write a professor!Miguel fic without it being cliche. I don't know how to get'er done but I'm a figure it out. Any suggestions would be more than welcome

#professor!au #professor!miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #atsv #spiderman #spiderman 2099

[aguacerotropical]

ive never read a history book that threads a narrative from pre colonial path to the present and i find it incredibly neat to see all this disparate stories i was taught or absorbed growing up condensed into one story

#Like? Did i know Miguel Enriquez was the first insanely rich man in PR and he was descended from enslaved african women? #Yes. But i never had more context than that. It was never placed into a larger narrative #It was all taught separately #Which is a hallmark of colonial education. Our history lessons ended in 1898 #I never ever had a class go beyond that date until university #And that was normal! When a professor pointed it out i was STUNNED #Like the floor went out from your feet #whatever traumas i accumulated #i am grateful to have had the opportunity to undo most of my colonial education

[miguelspriscilla]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSNdya3N8/

This you?

waitttttr

this is actually me. like I’m purposely failing my spanish/organic chem class (he would def teach either one of those classes) just so i can meet him after class and beg for anything to help me pass my class and like not even 5 mins later im bouncing and riding that dick like no tomorrow

ur so right lea🥰

#<3 #lea<3 #professor!miguel got me in a chokehold…literally #*moans* #god i need him so bad #lea is tired of my shit…

[kagemob]

my brain has been rewired upon the transition of me turning 21 soon to only care about middle age and old men i truly think this is progress

#personal #yes i am losing it over miguel o'hara yes i am going feral #i am also drawing professor rowan sexy maybe ill finish and post that soon