#miguel ohara atsv

[miguel-owhora]

SYNOPSIS — god turned blood to wine, our sins into purity, temptation into willpower - oh no, he didn't do the last thing. there is no such thing as willpower when faced to face with the freshest buns in the multiverse.

TYPE — drabble

WARNINGS — 18+ , rimming , not that sexual

MORE — miguel is so damn lucky he isn't real, because i would go fucking insane if he was. if i go insane over a bunch of pixels, what would i do with a beating heart?

FEM-ALIGNED READERS AND MINORS DNF, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE HEAVILY APPRECIATED.

TAGS — @sweetcorpse , @tophamhat-kyo , @villainousdelicacy , @realitylemon

Sometimes you overthink. Sometimes, when you're fighting some bad guy in your world or fighting off an anomaly, you wonder how life would be if you were normal. If there wasn't the DNA of a radioactive spider filtering through your bloodstreams. Would you be dead by now? Would you have a family? Would all those you've lost still be alive? Would canon events affect you how they do now?

Other times, you don't think. For instance, now would be an example of not thinking. The repetitive motion of wiggling your tongue inside Miguel's tight and yet sloppy hole was calming in a way. Thoughts were shoved to the side and instead focused on the way his asscheeks felt as you groped them, fondling the thick set of flesh between your fingers like a stress ball of sorts.

Miguel sounded beautiful; pretty streams of choked up moans and whimpers spilled from his mouth as he grinded back into your mouth. His gole clenched around your tongue every so often, his musk heavy and intoxicating, your nose buried in his crack.

Sure, your jaw ached, your knees were aching from where they were kneeling on the floor over Miguel's bed, but you wouldn't trade this for the world. Not when Miguel sounded and looked so damn beautiful, not when be tasted so fucking delicious, not when it filled you with a sense of giddy as you realized he was falling apart from simply your tongue.

all rights reserved © miguel-owhora

[pearlsinmyhair]

miguel is a man dedicated to his work, but that doesn’t mean that his isn’t dedicated to you as well. (nsfw, oral/fem!receiving, cursing)

miguel knows he works too hard. he knows he spends too much time in his office, monitoring anomalies and tracking them down. he’s not an idiot. he can see your texts getting drier and drier as you get irritated. he knows it’s unfair, he promised to be home. he hasn’t seen you in nearly three days.

but damn if he doesn’t make it up to you.

he slips into your room to find you scrolling through your phone, trying your best to ignore him. he slips out of his suit and into some sweats, nudging your thighs apart. you spread them, but you still refuse to pay attention to him, even as he licks your clothed pussy. you shiver, trying and failing to restrain yourself. you need him. you haven’t seen him for so long.

and he apologizes, with his words and his tongue. he licks two orgasms from you and fingers one more, lapping up your slick like a starved man. he’s so fucking gentle with you in these moments, coaxing each moan like a song lyric, your hands clenching uselessly at the sheets.

and when you finally push his head away, he licks his lips and wipes your juices from his chin with his thumb. you ask if you should return the favor, but he just shakes his head with a smile.

“no, cariño. let me take care of you.” he whispers as he slides his sweatpants down his hips and pulls your legs to wrap around his waist.

masterlists

[incognito-duo]

(I was talking about Miguel to a insta oomf and I'm back to yammering.) 

Miguel O'Hara has an ofrenda. Not probably, but he just does. He remembers how he would sit Gabriella in his lap and explain the importance of the ofrenda, naming each and every family member by their belongings or photos. He never thought that he'd see Gabi’s photo up there too. 

It wasn't right. It wasn't right at all - what father wants to see his lil girl's photo smiling back at him on a ofrenda? With shaky hands he places her hair ties and soccer jersey alongside her photo. He places her baby clothes next to her photo too, her favorite stuffed animal as a toddler, her soccer ball - he places even more photos up, he can't help himself. 

He rubs her old soccer jersey between his fingers trying to find some resemblance to his daughter’s skin, trying to see that maybe if he blinks it'd be her instead in his arms. He lets his eyes water in the solace of his house, his lights off with only the candle light illuminating his face as he holds onto Gabi’s fuzzy baby clothes. They were so small, she was so small.

“I thought it was harmless.” He thinks. “I thought it was harmless, I thought it was harmless.” He repeats to himself as he walks to her grave with aching feet. This Gabriella has a grave, he couldn't even give the other one that luxury. 

He feels himself go mental as he can't help but make another ofrenda for his other Gabi, right next to the one from his universe. He doesn't have anything of this Gabriella, just printed out photos of the videos he has. Videos where she's not even with him, just the man he wanted to be. 

He never wanted to be Spiderman. He wasn't like Peter, Jess, Ben, Gwen, or Miles chasing after a normal life and the grandeur of Spiderman at the same time. He just wanted his Gabriella, su corazon. 

“I thought it was harmless.” He repeats as he curls his hands into fists, his claws digging into his skin, not caring if he draws blood. Today, Gabriella would be fifteen - she'd have her quinceañera. He places her last doll and last shoes, his arms shaking as he wishes he could give her a last dance. 

It was November 1st and Miguel wished his photo was up on the ofrenda instead.

[moh-cas-oio]

Miguel plays your pussy as he asks for a roleplay (NSFW)

[pinkpinkstarlet]

thinking more about poisonivy/snowwhite!miguel rn

miguel who's been so consumed by the forest after staying there for so long and being basically slightly possessed by the spirit of the forest that he gets affected even with the slightest changes. His appearance changes with the seasons:

In the spring, flowers start to bloom all over his vines and skin, coming in all different varieties and colors. Bees and butterflies collect nectar from these beautiful flowers, and although he finds it annoying sometimes with the constant buzzing, he gets some honey afterward which tastes amazing. Whenever he walks, flowers blossom all over his feet and legs, and overall he looks like one giant multicolored flower during this season.

During the summer, the flowers on his skin start maturing into fruits and some veggies (from the minimal research I did only cauliflower and broccoli are grown from flowers I think). They also taste really good if you try them, with the fruits being sweet and never going rotten and the veggies perfect for cooking and eating. Although animals are attracted to him most of the time, they especially follow him during the spring and summer due to his abundance of nutrition.

In the fall, the vines that cover up his body get drier, orange/red/yellow leaves, the flowers on him start to wilt, the plants that grow beneath him when he walks look less alive, and he feels less energized than in spring and summer.

In the winter, all the plants and flowers had died and wilted off his body, and even snow and ice started to form on his skin. He also feels extremely exhausted during this season, and he has to sleep for longer periods of time every day and night, even sleeping for weeks on end until winter ends. The forest will makeshift his vines into a warm, weighted blanket whenever he does sleep during the winter.

Other factors, such as emotions, can change his appearance too. When he's really happy, excited, or possibly falling in love, even during the winter and fall, flowers start to blossom on his hair. When he's extremely sad/heartbroken, even during the summer and spring, every living plant starts to wilt off of him. When he's hostile and angry, the vines on his body start to grow sharp spikes.

Overall, summer and spring is where he thrives the most, almost being like the goddess (or god in this case) of spring, while the colder seasons make him more tired and vulnerable.

@thecrowandtherose @the-cat-and-the-birdie @daydreaming-en-pointe @darksidescorner @skullghoulz @sp1derw1re @spiderxpawz @i-put-the-wit-in-dimwit @chessbox @hoe-bie @hobiebrownismygod @jasontoddssuper

[phishferno]

Hobie and Miguel my beloveds

the sillies ...

[cupajoscafe]

some spooders from the other day, just messin around trying to figure out how to draw them

[rayyrayysanchez]

Well, might have a little surprise for you guys tonight!

Hope you guys like it!

[mrs3vil]

miguel lowkey looks like this guy from the mexican telenovela my mom likes

[sophiegoose]

Questions for my fellow Miguel O'Hara simps enthusiasts: do you think his claws sheath/unsheath on command or do they do so based on pressure/position, like a cat's?

Like, does he do this if you press on his fingertips too hard:

This is very important for a fanfic I'm writing where my spidersona makes out with him headcanon-building

Yes

Headcanon-building

[itsfairly]

Listen, we all knew Miguel called Gabriella 'mija', but actually hearing it in the movie is such a pain, it's fucking hurts like a truck.

[miguel-owhora]

okay but i just made a deity!mreader/devotee!miguel bot and

what if miguel was deprived of affection and attention from childhood that he sought you out for a very long time. you gave him the affection and attention he so desired for, so much so that he grew obsessed with you and vowed his life to you. you manipulate him to do your bidding, whether if that's simply praying at your altar or killing a couple of mortals or even allowing him to eat you out, miguel's more than happy to do as you ask, as long as your attention remains on him.

[pearlsinmyhair]

₊ ⊹ the price of the name.

synopsis: reader has had a hard life, and now she’s an orphan. but someone just as lonely comes into her life to take her under his wing.

warnings: violence in this chapter (capture of an anomaly, star girl gets injured), mentions of getting stitches without anesthetic. The Fight ™. Miguel loses himself in anger twice (tread lightly). lots of cursing. use of spanish.

so…it does get worse after this chapter. hobie is a g (yes he’s here). as always, this is a platonic!miguel x reader fic, not a romantic one.

part i | part ii

word count: 2.7k

part iii: i’m not her

　　　.   　　˚　　 　　*　　 　　✦　　　.　　.　　　✦　˚

　　　　 

“let’s go over the process one more time.” miguel was saying as you both exited the trans-universe portal.

“no, please god, no.” you groaned, pressing your hand to the mask of you spider suit. “we must have gone over this a million times, miguel. this isn’t my first anomaly.”

the eye patterns of his suit narrowed. you had gotten to know his facial expressions well over the past nine months, even when he was wearing his mask.

“yes, but this one’s big. you’ve never tackled a big one before.” he claimed, and you rolled your eyes.

“telling me about it isn’t going to be the same as me actually experiencing it. just let me do my thing.” you responded, shooting a web to a nearby building and jumping up to swing.

miguel’s tight grip on the back of your suit held you still like a puppy, and you wriggled for a moment before giving in and letting him set you on the ground.

“we’re waiting for the other spider, remember? slow down.” miguel said firmly, hand resting at the base of your neck for a moment in a ‘stay’ gesture. you shrugged his hand off.

“who is it?” you asked. you had yet to work with someone other than miguel on missions. he preferred to work with you hands on, using the anomalies as a lesson.

yet another thing that was unusual: miguel didn’t do ‘partners’. jess was the closest to that before you.

miguel’s posture stiffened, and your spidey-senses tingled as you put the pieces together.

“don’t tell me.” you said in a giddy voice to him, and miguel pressed his fingers to his temples as if trying to relieve a headache.

before you could press him more, the sound of an all-too familiar guitar riff burst across the roof top you both stood on.

“hey, star girl.” came the sound of a familiar voice, slurred with a cockney accent.

you turned and ran straight to hobie, pounding your fist with his as you pulled you close by his arm around your shoulders.

“you two…know each other?” came miguel’s stern voice, glaring at you and hobie.

“yeah, we’ve met a few times around the base.” you explained as hobie shoved your shoulder playfully.

“y/n’s pretty hard to miss, boss. kinda surprised you assumed we hadn’t.” hobie said, and you didn’t miss the mocking tone in his voice as he looked at miguel.

you poked him in the ribs, willing him to behave.

he pinched your side in response, causing you to squeal and pull away from the spider punk beside you.

“enough play, let’s secure this anomaly.” miguel said, murmuring a curse in spanish as he turned from you and slung a web.

hobie looked down at you. “does he get jealous this of’en?” he asked, shooting a web of his own as he shifted his guitar up his shoulder.

you shrugged. “he’s not jealous, hobie. you just piss each other off.” you both jumped from the building, quickly locating the thing you were to capture.

“sure, i piss him off. but that was different. he’s got a soft spot, y/n”

you shrugged again as you pulled yourself up into a flip, locating the anomalies weak points.

it took a moment for you to realize just why miguel was so concerned.

the anomaly was a green goblin, and a quick one at that.

nine months ago you would have been useless in this fight. but now? miguel’s training has honed your skills, and you moved through the motions with the ease of a dancer in a well-rehearsed routine.

that was, until the goblin threw one of his smoke bombs right into your face.

the momentary blindness caused you to miss your webbing. you slammed through a window of a skyscraper into an office building, rolling across the floor and into a desk.

“fuck.” you murmured as you tried to stand, only for your legs to buckle. your ears rang from the bomb, and your eyes watered.

you removed your mask, taking a breath of fresh air as you tried to get your barings. you looked down at your body in an attempt to take stock of your injuries.

there was a laceration across your calf from the glass, and your shoulder throbbed. it took a second for you to realize that it was dislocated.

you took a few moments to rest your head back, fighting the urge to just sit and rest. you were needed. you had to get back.

you shifted up against the desk, manouveing your arm so that it sat in place before you shoved your body to the side.

you let out a strangled cry when your arm popped back into place, the pain bright but brief. your hearing was coming back, and you could hear the distant cackles of the green goblin as you stood.

you stepped to the broken window, taking a breath before you jumped back into the fight.

“hey star girl! you still with us?” shouted hobie from a distance, and you gave him a thumbs up.

he couldn’t afford the time to ask you more, simply nodding as he slammed his guitar against the goblin’s glider, causing the anomaly to fall.

orange silk stuck to the goblin’s chest, tugging him forward before a blue figure slammed into his chest, causing the two to fly into another building, disappearing from view.

you took a moment to just hang, catching your breath as you waited for miguel to give you and hobie the go ahead.

when nothing came, you scowled, swinging through the opening.

the sight that greeted you made your blood run cold.

you knew miguel could get mad. you had heard the whispers, heard the stories, listened to the tales of blood and broken bones that followed in his wake.

but nothing could compare to actually seeing his brutality.

miguel laid into the goblin, his fist colliding with his jaw over and over again, each impact sounding wetter than the last.

the anomaly’s mask was long sense shattered, and you could see the eyes of norman osborn just barely clinging to life.

“miguel stop.” you said, voice barely above a whisper as you fought down the bile rising in your throat.

but miguel didn’t hear you, slamming his fist against the goblin’s face again.

you should have known not to get too close. you were trained to stay away from close fist fights. but in that moment, nothing mattered.

you took a step closer and placed your hand against miguel’s back, trying to calm him. “mig, you need to st-“

his elbow collided with you nose with a sickening crunch. blood burst from it like a supernova, and your vision swam as you stumbled back a few steps.

hobie caught you under the armpits, hauling you back so you could both lean against a desk for support.

“miguel, what the fuck.” he was saying, voice low and angry as he pressed a ripped off part of his shirt to your nose. you winced in pain, and hobie’s eyes hardened even more.

when you finally got the courage to look up at your mentor, your mouth went dry.

because he was already looking at you, with the same mixture of guilt and regret that he had when he first took you as an apprentice.

he was on you in a second, hovering over you and cupping your face with clawed hands. looking wild while beating a man was one thing, but the devastated look he gave you now as he held you was much much worse.

hobie was still pissed, watching miguel from behind you, making sure that he was gentle.

miguel brushed the blood from your nose with a claw, looking tortured. all the while he was murmuring soft sentences in spanish, things that you didn’t quite have the mental capacity to translate, what with the broken nose and bleeding leg.

“lo siento, pequeña. no quise hacerlo, va a estar bien. mierda chica, lo siento mucho.”

you watched as hobie tapped at his watch in your peripheral, and an orange portal opened to your left. it seemed to snap miguel out of whatever trance he had fallen into, and he straightened.

he nodded to hobie, and the punk picked you up easily as miguel did the same for the now-unconscious green goblin.

“ready?” asked the spider holding you, though you knew him enough by now to understand that the question was mostly rhetorical.

you nodded as you pressed the back of your hand to your nose, preparing for the lecture that surely awaited you.

the four of you jumped into the portal, back to base.

₊ ⊹

the worst possible thing miguel can do is be quiet.

he did it often. once you had called him a ‘stewer’, because he would wait until whatever speech he was preparing was the perfect amount of cruel.

you sat in your designated chair with one leg up as the spider-doctor of the base bandaged it. it had needed stitches, and you had forced yourself to go through it without any kind of anesthesia. you had stitched up worse on your own before.

“two weeks rest, and then you’re able to go back in the field. just take it easy for now.” the doctor was saying, and you nodded. you were only truly half listening. the other half of your attention was placed upon miguel, who stood with his back turned to you not twenty feet away.

the doctor dismissed themselves, and you pulled your leg up to sit criss-cross in the chair.

it was a design by miguel himself, added when you needed a place to sit on days where your mentor was busy in his office.

you could still vaguely hear the echos of him explaining complex microbiology and gene-splicing as you did your research papers beside him.

miguel was silent for a few more beats, and you continued watching him, knowing that he felt you staring.

you had been his apprentice for nine months. you knew each others mannerisms well by now.

he let out the characteristic “you’re about to get an earful” sigh that typically haunted your nightmares.

“you almost died.”

oh.

you expected something a bit more barbed, but you could work with this.

“yes. i almost did. but i’m here, and i’m ok.”

“it doesn’t matter.” he said as he finally turned to you, with a solemn resignation in his eyes that made your heart stop.

“you. almost. died. y/n. and i can’t allow that while i’m your mentor. you’re benched.”

your confusion sharpened to irritation.

“you can’t bench me, miguel. i’m not a child.” you responded, rising from your seat. when you put weight against your freshly stitched leg you tripped slightly. miguel gave you a hard look as if it justified his decision.

“i’m your superior. if i say you’re done, you’re done. understood?” he said, with a note of finality that meant he didn’t want a response other than confirmation.

you shook your head, unwilling to back down. “no, i don’t understand.” you replied, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to look bigger next to his tall form.

“i don’t understand why you give me special treatment over others. i don’t understand why you feel the need to be so fucking protective over me. miguel, i don’t…” you sighed, gathering your words as he watched you with a carefully controlled expression.

“i know you feel a certain…responsibility over me because i’m your apprentice. and i understand your concern. but i’m also a person. i’m eighteen, soon to be nineteen. i can handle scrapes and bruises. it’s what we do-“

“y/n, it wasn’t just scrapes and bruises this time. you flew through a fucking window. jesus christ, kid, i thought you were dead.” his tone leaned to desperation, and it made any words you had prepared die in your throat.

sweet clarity.

miguel laying into the green goblin like it was personal, like it was vengeance. how the moments that you took to rest were probably actually minutes, making it look like you went AWOL. how when miguel accidentally elbowed your nose, he probably expected to find you bleeding amongst glass rather than clutching your face.

but the sympathy that normally accompanied your conversations with miguel was gone. instead, words sharpened like blades on your tongue.

“this isn’t fucking fair, miguel. i didn’t ask for this.” you said lowly.

his eyes narrowed at you. “and what exactly is this.”

the words on the tip of your tongue, ready to fire like bullets at the weakest part of miguel. the must vulnerable.

there was always an unspoken fifth rule of your partnership.

never, under any circumstances, talk about his daughter.

“being treated like i’m gabriella. like i’m some second chance for you to make things right. as if i’m just another option to make your life happier-“

you didn’t get to finish.

miguel’s hands clenched the collar of your suit, lifting you so that your toes barely brushed the ground. it wasn’t strangling, but the way he glared down at you promised violence.

your breath caught in your throat as he looked at you, rage palpable as his claws created puncture holes in your suit.

but you trudged on. you had repressed these thoughts for too long.

“miguel, you can’t lock me in a tower and call it love.”

all at once, the rage faded, and the grip on your collar ceased.

you dropped to the floor, wheezing. but a web hit your chest, easing you down. you followed its trail back to the owner.

hobie brown stood in the entrance way to miguel’s office, looking livid. but he said nothing.

that was always the wonderful thing about hobie. he knew when to wait for your signal.

“listen to me very carefully, kid. you will go home, now. you will get the fuck out of this demension as soon as this conversation is over, and you will stay out of it until further notice.” miguel growled, looking down at you.

“you will not be called on any missions, and you will not respond to any invitations to help.” he looked pointedly at hobie. “if you do, i will take your watch and drag you back to your dimension myself. am i understood?”

you looked at him from the ground, frustrated tears in your eyes. there was no way out.

“yes sir.”

you got up and walked out of the office.

₊ ⊹

hobie followed you, keeping pace with your limping step.

“are you really gonna listen to that prick?” he asked, glaring at some nosy spiders that stared. “he’s a fucking idiot if he thinks your gonna stop-“

“i am going to, hobie. i’m going home.” you told him, and the spider-punk paused.

“you saw how he looked at me. do you think he’s going to be kind when he finds me swinging with you or pav with anomalies? you think he won’t drag me back?” you knew miguel well. and you knew his resolve.

he wouldn’t hesitate to take your watch. he wouldn’t hesitate to confine you to your own reality, never to see him or your friends again.

all for the sake of protecting you.

‘you could have died.’

“you said your parents are gone, right?” hobie asked, and you stopped walking at the audacity of that question. when you turned to him, he raised his hands up to show you he meant no harm.

“i just don’t think you should be alone right now. come crash in my flat. we’ll find something to do other than wallow in our own misery, ay?”

you deflated, wanting nothing more than to sink into hobie’s embrace. and you did, allowing him to pull you close as the tears you were holding back finally escaped your eyes, leaking onto hobie’s blue shirt, mixing with the blood that stained it from your nose.

he tapped his watch to open another portal, and you spared one last glance towards the direction of miguel’s office before you stepped through it.

masterlists | part iv

so…like i said…it does get worse in the next chapter. i hope that you all liked this one ♡. stay tuned…

“lo siento, pequeña. no quise hacerlo, va a estar bien. mierda chica, lo siento mucho. - i’m sorry, little one. i didn’t mean to do it, it’s going to be ok. shit kid, i’m so sorry.

taglist:

@pearlssdiary @zeyzeys-stuff @alexisabirdie @ifuckyourmom @hagdgishbr @migueloharaslxt @ladynecromancer @ladyfairenvale

[idciminlove]

LMFAOO 😭😭😭

You guys are killing me helppp

But I wholeheartedly disagree..that man has a lot of rage and if ur that angry and shit who knows what ur packing ifyk wim 🤭

Like imo he prob wouldn’t have seggs bcs he doesn’t have the time or the person, but he gets bonies for sure I just know it I feel it in my blood 😈 😈😈

[moh-cas-oio]

Me: Would you please rail me till I faint?

Miguel *Escapes from her*.

(NSFW)

[pinkpinkstarlet]

sad guy

@ace-and-sleepdeprived @chessbox @daydreaming-en-pointe @darksidescorner @spidey-bie @hoe-bie @i-put-the-wit-in-dimwit @skullghoulz @sp1derw1re @spiderxpawz @thecrowandtherose @the-cat-and-the-birdie