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tarjapearce · 10 months

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El Charro Negro

Charro Negro AU! Miguel x Reader

Requested Here by @arrozleche ♥️✨

Inspired in this artwork by Kattromz

WARNINGS: angst at the beginning, bit of light horror, a bit of fluff, spanish dialogue and serenades, Mexican urban legend, a bit of possessiveness If you squint. Hope I got it right :')

Summary: Don't make deals with the devil, people.

The song Miguel sings to reader ⬇️⬇️

May the day he was born forever cursed. May the day his parents decided to have him, cursed. May the humble and tattered home he lived in, damned.

Oh how he longed to have what other men had. A good hat, food on his table every day, not having to worry if he'd sleep with an empty stomach, a more comfortable bed and not the paltry and smelly rags he had for a bed; the good and clean clothes instead of his patched up pants and holed shirts. His parents loved him dearly. But it wasn't enough, even if they worked as hard as he was, it wasn't enough.

It was never enough for him.

He wanted more. He wanted to be admired instead of shunned and treated like an outcast for not having enough.

"Ya verán..." (They'll see.)

He'd prove all those that mocked him for being less, that he would be better. Better than all of them. When his Patrón would pay him what he is owed, he'd buy decent clothing. He'd have his Charro suit his heart yearned so much, and just then, he would laugh in the faces of those that wronged him.

But, Oh the misfortune his name carried since birth, followed him like a lost, mangy puppy, looking for solace in his tragedy. His parents died within a mine. buried and forgotten. El patrón didn't even bother himself into try and getting them and some other workers out.

Unbeknown to his parents, they had been digging their grave long ago.

He had to steal a bottle from the foreman's reserve so he could at least have the respect to knock his senses with good alcohol. Mezcal was his favorite. No money, no parents, poor and sick of everything was his current mood. A perpetual will of someone bigger than him, that had cursed him to live on scraps all his life.

"¡¿Feliz?! ¡¿Qué quieres de mí?!" (Happy?! What do you want from me?!)

He hiccuped as he entered his empty and tattered home, blaspheming at heavens as he cut a bit of his palm and attempted to draw a circle with it.

"¡Lo he dado todo y nunca fue suficiente!" (Gave it all and still it wasn't enough.)

He weeped and growled. The mezcal numbing his senses slowly. Sluggish footsteps finally tripped over a termite chewed chair, and he hissed at the stung from the cut in his hand.

"Daría cualquier cosa..." (I'd give anything)

His eyes felt heavy, the tip of his fingertips tingled with spreading numbness. A chill ran down his spine while his face pressed against the dusty floor. It vibrated. He groaned and took another swig from the bottle.

Black mist crept around him, the temperature suddenly feeling cold. He shuddered and scrunched his nose at the simmering fear that was below the surface.

"¿Lo que sea?" (Anything?)

A gravel like, yet sultry voice echoed from the darkest part of the room. His breath hitched as his vision blurred for a second to then focus on the bright, fiery red eyes that stared at him with keen interest.

His voice made all the mezcal to evaporate from his body. Wide, fearful eyes stared at the entity.

"Lo que sea." (Anything)

Miguel breathed with a nod. The being smirked, revealing a pair of sharp canines adorning his perfect and malicious smirk.

"¿Te apetece un trato?" (Fancy a deal?)

-------

The women made lines just to get a glimpse of him, Clad in a perfectly tailored suit just for him with the finest fabrics available. Tall, broad and muscular body not many had the luck of tasting, a horse that seemed brought from foreign lands due it's sheer size and color. Jet black with beady amber eyes. Wide brim hat, with a lace bow hugging his neck.

Even though many knew him, his money was the talk of town. Where would he get larges amount of money to invite everyone in the cantina a round of shots? his suits? his horse? his properties? The women?.

"Les dije que sería mejor que todos ustedes." (Told you I'd be better than you lot.)

He mumbled as he threw a woman over his shoulder with a smirk, she squealed in excitement as he took a long swig of his bottle. He'd throw the most outrageous parties in his estate almost every week.

The fiery eyes just watched him from afar, his smirk widening.

-------

Despite having more than fifty people before him, and women throwing themselves at him, his heart had said enough. Enough of the madness, enough of the parties, enough of fake loves that only seeked him for pleasure or money. Enough. He had enough.

He threw everyone out of a rage fit. He was sick of them. Even thought their faces were familiar, he knew shit about them all. He wanted, needed, to be alone.

"¿Ya te has cansado de esta vida, Miguel?" (Have you grown tired of this life?)

Miguel stumbled on the floor as panic rose within his heart.

"Y yo que creía que te estabas divirtiendo" (And me here thinking you were having fun.)

"¿Q-Qué estás haciendo aquí?" (What are you doing here?)

"He venido por lo que me corresponde por derecho, Miguel." (I've came for what's rightfully mine.)

"Tu alma" (Your soul)

-------------

Even though his attempts in running away from the devil worked for him for a bit, in the end, he was found and not only that, but cursed to be the devil's personal debt collector. He and his horse.

He was everywhere, yet nowhere. He'd travel in a cloud of black mist that moved with him, almost like the darkness itself had life of its own. Red and glowing eyes adorning his Adonis-like features. He was tall, broad, clad in black and dangerous.

He'd travel with his faithful horse, a jet black stallion that only responded to him. As far as the legend went, he'd go town to town searching for the debtors, to claim their souls by luring them with money and other riches.

His eyes settled for a hidden little town, a few souls would fulfill his hunger, but he had to be careful. He could see some of the stony white houses donned with a cross on their front doors. He sneered at them, his horse gave a disapproving neigh.

"And they're the ones who sin the most" He mumbled under his breath and scanned the zone, It was 3 am, none was on sight. The soft noise of his saddle and his horse's steps echoed through the houses. Some dogs barked, howled even, other just growled at him and his in fear.

He stopped in his tracks when he saw you, clad with a black shawl, tears in your eyes as you left the town's cemetery. He chuckled at your stupid yet brave action. None would venture alone at that time, in such a sacred place, unless you worked with magic.

His mind was settled. He'd stay here. But first, he'd have to earn the trust of those whose souls would be claimed later.

He vanished into thin air.

------------

Your day always started at 4 am, sometimes even earlier than that, you had gone and clean your parents tomb in the cemetery, always giving them fresh flowers. They had died of sickness, little could be done to save them. Their hearts just gave up.

Then, you would go to the town's cantina and help prepare for the day, washing glasses, making sure the mezcal was ready to be served, cleaning up in general and of course, having to withstand the leering glances from the men around as you brought their drinks and food.

Town was 'everyone knows everyone here' type of little. It had a few stores of antique things, a hospital, a bar, some boutiques, a school among other basic needs stuff. It was small, but pretty. Colonial-style and traditional sort of pretty.

It wasn't around midday that he showed up. A man so tall you had to look up to meet his amber colored eyes, sharp and handsome features, shoulders so broad you were sure it would take a toll on your back to hug him, A small waist adorned by a strange belt buckle, if you looked closer it was a small skull like spider, surrounded by a subtle pentagram.

His heavy steps made the place to go silent for a moment as everyone stared at the new face. He was wearing a pale blue Charro outfit, he removed his hat, revealing silky and shiny ravenous locks. He smiled gently and took a seat in one of the lone seats over the bar.

"Buenos días, señorita. By any chance do you a place where I could stay?"

Your coworker flushed by the mere tone of his voice, you rolled your eyes at the display. She'd do that with every handsome man that would come closer. Visitors weren't as regular as people would think, even though the town had it's charm, it was away from other main cities. The perfect target for Miguel.

"¿Señorita?" It was enough, you called her and his eyes snapped your way. He blinked at recognizing you from before.

"Go tell Rodrigo we need to refill one barrel of mezcal." She obeyed while stealing a glance in Miguel's direction before disappearing.

"Sorry for that. There is a hotel at the end of this street. Se llama Posada Buenaventura" (It's name is Buenaventura Hostal)

He bowed his head, grateful. Soon he stood and left.

--------

You had noticed the Charro that had appeared our of nowhere being a social yet secretive man. He'd laugh with the elders, he'd listen to his stories that many ignored, would help people around by making small favors. And the women adored him, he'd of course entertain them by smiling or singing a bit for them. He was nice. But too perfect. Your eyes squinted at him.

"Don't look at him like that, he's really good. Man, I'd sell my soul to have a man like him." Your coworker spoke in between dreamy sighs. It had been only a couple of days since he came and everyone seemed to love him.

Suspicious.

Even more when he showed up in such fancy quality suits many would only long for. You had learned that his name was Miguel. It suited him, but still, something was wrong. Something in your mind told you to run away whenever he was around and his stare lingered a bit too long on you.

"Stop being a hornball and go tend the clients. It's a busy day today." You waved her off as you began cleaning the bar. He sat before you and regarded you with an intense gaze, hinting the challenge you stared back at him, arching your brow, unamused.

"Will you order something or you'll keep the staring contest?"

He smirked, and held his hands in defense.

"A breakfast shall do fine." you sighed

"Coffee?"

"Si. No sugar, please." You nodded and disappeared behind the doors, a man, his prey, approached him with a sympathetic look.

"Every man in town knows that trying to get (Name)'s attention is pointless. Mostly of us have given up on her. She's hard to get at."

"Is that so?"

"If you're wise, you'll rather to spend the time with Emelina. She's a sweetheart."

Miguel just nodded and looked at your form approaching with his food and steaming coffee. Your beauty was sure a sight, but your temper was something he couldn't help but feel intrigued for, specially when you were throwing a guy out of the cantina that got too hammered a bit too soon.

You wouldn't fall that easily, and he loved challenges.

He winked at you and you just rolled your eyes.

You'd totally be worth it.

------

Emelina hopped into his horse, the lucky girl, and snugged him from behind. They'd gallop through the town together, parading and showing his horse taming skills. Girls around would watch with envy, as you glanced at them briefly with a smirk, tumbling some clothes to dry under the sun.

Not that you were hard to get. You simply feared of being fooled again, everyone in town had known that your fiancé had left a day before your wedding to never show up again. He had ran away from town and from you.

Miguel and Emelina galloped away from town, her excited shrieks could be heard as they headed out of town.

But after a while, the landscapes seemed neverending, repetitive and boring.

"We have to go back. Around five I must feed my chickens." Emelina's voice announced behind him. But Miguel didn't stop. The horse just galloped faster, she held tightly onto him, a small wave of fear washing over her.

"I-I wanna go back, Miguel." Her voice meek, her breath hitching in her throat upon realizing what was going on.

"Let me go!" She cried but he only smirked, black mist surrounded them both as darkness engulfed Emelina . the last thing she could see was Miguel. No. El Charro Negro, a demon, looking at her. Her screams vanished into nothingness.

-----

After closing the cantina, you headed home, and saw Emelina giving a small court to Miguel, to then disappear into her home. An illusion really, but who could tell? His eyes wandered over your form.

"Need help?"

"No."

Even though you actually did struggle with the wooden box full of spices.

He gently pried the box from your small form. You sighed and rolled your eyes with a tiny smirk.

"Te gusta molestarme." (You like annoying me."

"Kinda. If that's what it takes to see that little scrunch in your nose when you get angry, then yes. I do."

You didn't want to admit that he had his charm, but the thought was quickly batted away when he spoke again.

"Fear."

"Hm?"

"You are scared." He mumbled as he walked next to you.

"I'm not-"

"You hide your pain behind a brave mask. What happened?"

You frowned at his words. He pried too soon into your healing wounds.

"Not your business, certainly." you stopped at your home, and took the box from his hands. Pain bloomed into your chest and he knitted his eyebrows together, sensing your discomfit.

"I'm sorry" He'd mumble as you looked away.

"Entiendo ese sentimiento de no ser lo suficiente para alguien muy bien, hermosa." (I know the feeling of not being good enough for someone, beautiful)

Tears welled up in your eyes, but you pushed them aside, and sighed

"His loss, really."

"Buena noche." (Goodnight), he mumbled and watched you go. It came to his attention that you lived on your own.

As much as he was the devil's personal collector, his past was always haunting him, reminding him of his mistakes. He couldn't help but find a bit of solace in the fact that there was someone that could relate to his pain. And for what he could gather through the towners, he knew about your wedding fiasco.

The initial challenge to have your soul slowly changed into something more meaningful, a bit selfish if he came to think about it. He'd conquer you, even if it meant to harvest the life of every person in town.

---------

People talked about the sudden leaving of Emelina, and his prey, Rodrigo. Apparently they both had ran together, and started a new life elsewhere. His task in town was almost done. He just needed two more souls to leave.

But every time you'd serve him his usual breakfast with the bitter coffee, the demon inside him subsided. He had tried everything, leaving roses in your door, only to find them stored in jars later, He'd send letters that you would only read with a wistful and pained expression, he'd gift you with jewels, but you never wore them.

You were hard to get. But it was thrilling for him. To do such thing after spending years traveling, collecting and vanishing from town to town. You had made his dead heart to beat again, but yours ached for someone that had been long gone. He'd never forgive him. He collected his soul.

-----

Every gift your not so subtle fan gave you, had warned your heart a little bit more. You knew it was Miguel. The outrageous gifts screamed his name all over the place. He'd send you roses, which you stored in a glass container to make things out of them, his letters full of poems about you; made the ice on your heart to melt, bit by bit.

And the jewelry, the most intricate and beautiful thing you could lay your hands on. Gold looked good on you. It was like he knew your heart desires by heart despite you shooing him away in hopes he'd gave up before it ended up in another heartbreak for you.

But he was determined to make you his. You noted much. You had to give props to the man that against all odds, was getting a spot in your heart. But for now, you needed sleep.

The sultry and baritone voice sang through your window.

No hace falta que salga la luna

Pa' venirte a cantar mi canción

Ni hace falta que el cielo esté lindo

Pa' venirte a entregarte mi amor

You opened the window and your eyes turned bashful as his voice kept echoing, a few more men behind him, playing instruments. His voice serenading you.

Solo Dios, que me vio en mi amargura

Supo darme consuelo en tu amor

Y mando para mí, tú ternura

Y así con tus besos borro mi dolor.

Your heart couldn't help but flutter. You had tamed a demon.

He was about to sing another verse when your neighbor's angry voice chided in, disrupting the moment.

"It's bed time! Sing to her in the morning!" His words only made him want to vanish and give him a lesson, but your giggles only made him sigh.

"Buena noche, chula."

"Goodnight, Miguel." you kissed his cheek. A chill ran down your spine. He was cold, but your heart was sure warm.

He totally gave the man a good scare in his dreams.

---------

"It's concerning that people have been leaving town lately without much explanation." You heard one of the elders speak, and sure enough, the town looked emptier than usual.

"Don't you think it's weird? Ever since... that guy, ese Charro, came here, weird things have been happening." Your ears perked up at the information. Of course you had been too enraptured in your blooming feelings for Miguel to actually pay attention to what was happening around you.

Your workplace was less and less crowded, Emelina and Ricardo ran away together. Then, another man you barely spoke to was next, and then another woman also left. Four people in total. And given how small the town was, the number was alarming.

Dread settled on you once more. You didn't know what Miguel did during the day, but he always seemed to have enough money to buy everyone's house twice. He was always impeccable, well dressed and his charisma had earned the trust of the people. You felt dumb.

You had lowered your guard down enough to let another man in.

What was his game? You certainly refused to be his plaything.

-----

Your sudden change of attitude concerned him, of course, people would talk, and they were growing suspicious. He had his fill of souls, but his dead heart ached for you. You'd refuse to look at him in the eye, your voice so distant and cold. You had also grown suspicious of him. He knew he had to leave.

But he didn't, as a new pact was signed within town. His duty called.

-------

Just as darkness followed him, it had engulfed the man and vanished him into nothingness. He smirked, satisfied.

"It's... you..." You voice snapped his glowy red eyes at you. Your skin crawled as the hairs on your back stood in alarm. Your mind told you to run away. You approached instead, clarity coming to your mind like a cold bucket of water.

The glow of his eyes vanished, a solemn look on his face.

"It all makes sense now" You mumbled. You weren't scared, your hands cupped his cheek. he was no longer cold.

"I need to go."

You shook your head.

"Everything you did, for me, was true?"

"All of it." His large hand caressed yours while his eyes regarded you wistfully.

"Then, take me with you." You'd mumble and his eyes widened.

The sounds of many other horses along some people, angry and demanding for Miguel, approached.

"I couldn't... No."

"Then, I'll make a pact with the devil if that means for you to come for me and see you again."

His heart leaped in his chest. You wanted him as he was.The mob approached.

"I'm yours" You kissed his hand and you were swooped off your feet, his lips pressed into yours and with a whip on his horse, you two ran away, never to be seen again.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #astv fanfic #spiderman 2099 x reader #el charro negro #t writes✨#Mexican urban legend #Spotify

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