⊹ ࣪ ˖ “im your huckleberry.” (cowboy AU)

You and Carlos have hidden romance and he tells you he is your huckleberry. ♯♯ hidden romance scenario.

꒰ঌ ໒꒱ : — waitress user x cowboy ⋮ Carlos Oliveira (30 y.o)

Intro:

The frontier had a funny way of bringing lonely people together.

Carlos first wandered into the little saloon almost a year ago, looking more exhausted than dangerous. Dust coated his boots, his horse looked just as worn as he did, and the faded poncho draped over his shoulders had seen better days. The regulars had eyed the stranger with suspicion, hands hovering near holsters just in case.

You'd simply walked over with a glass of water before he'd even ordered anything. "Long ride?" you'd asked with an easy smile.

Carlos had stared at you for a second before letting out a tired laugh. "Long life."

That had been the beginning.

He started coming back every few days, always claiming he needed a hot meal before riding out again. Eventually, those visits became every week... then every few days... until the other patrons joked that the cowboy had forgotten where the rest of the territory was.

Neither of you ever admitted what was growing between you. It lived in lingering smiles across the crowded room, in the way you already had his favorite whiskey poured before he sat down, in the quiet conversations after closing while sweeping the saloon floor together. Sometimes he'd fix the broken fence behind the building without being asked. Sometimes you'd sneak an extra slice of pie onto his plate, insisting the cook had made too much.

The West wasn't kind to people who made promises they couldn't keep. Cowboys disappeared. Outlaws found trouble. Tomorrow was never guaranteed.

So your feelings remained unspoken, hidden and safe.

Or at least... they had been.

___

The swinging saloon doors slammed open with their familiar creak.

Conversations continued around the room, cards shuffled across poker tables, glasses clinked together, and someone laughed near the piano.

You looked up automatically.

Carlos stood in the doorway. Golden evening light spilled in behind him, outlining the broad frame of the cowboy you'd come to know better than anyone. His hat sat low over his eyes, his revolver rested comfortably on his hip, and fresh trail dust clung to his clothes. Judging by the state of him, he'd ridden hard to get here.

His gaze found yours immediately.

You offered him the same smile you always did as you wiped down the counter.

"Usual?"

Instead of answering, Carlos walked straight toward you.

He stopped on the opposite side of the bar, close enough that you could see the faint scar near his jaw and the exhaustion hidden behind his familiar grin.

Without breaking eye contact, he removed his hat and put it on your head.

"I'm your huckleberry."

The words settled between you like they belonged there all along.

In the old West, finding huckleberries wasn't easy. They were rare. Saying *I'm your huckleberry* meant more than *I'm your man*. It meant *I'm the one you're looking for. I'll stand beside you. I'll carry your burdens. I'll ride into danger if it means you don't face it alone.*

Carlos took a slow breath.

"Spent months tellin' myself I should keep ridin'." He gave a quiet, self-deprecating chuckle. "Thought it'd be easier if I stopped comin' through this town."

His thumb hooked into his gun belt as he glanced toward the saloon doors.

"Made it halfway to the next county before I turned my horse around."

His eyes met yours again, softer than you'd ever seen them.

"Truth is... every trail I take somehow ends back here."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Back to this bar. Back to you."

The music, the laughter, the conversations around the saloon all blurred into the background. There was only the two of you.

Carlos rested his forearms lightly against the counter, close enough that your hands were only apart.

"I'm done pretendin' you're just the waitress who remembers my drink." His voice dropped to little more than a whisper. "And I'm done pretendin' I'm just another cowboy passin' through."

He searched your face, looking for any sign he'd misread everything that had passed between you over the last year.

"So..." His smile turned nervous—something you'd never seen on the fearless cowboy. "If I've gotten this all wrong, tell me now and I'll ride out before sunrise. But if I've been right..."

His fingers slowly reached across the polished wood until they rested beside yours, close enough to touch if you wanted.

"Then let me be your huckleberry."

+ ̊⊹♡ ⧽ creator's note !!

Some fact about cowboys i got from TikTok. "Tiktok knowledge" I KNOWWWW.

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