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zepskies · 19 days ago

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The Honorable Choice - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for this @jacklesversebingo prompt.

Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU

Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Racism/racial slurs, attempted sexual assault (not successful), protective Dean, angst, some violence and some action.

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🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!

Part 1: Pride & Prejudice

June 1872

Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.

Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.

Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?

Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.

Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.

“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.

“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.

She remains tight lipped, stubborn.

“Probably doesn’t even understand English. Savage bitch,” he says. Dean shoots him an impassive look to cover up his annoyance.

“Put a cork in it, Roman,” he orders. Then, he focuses back on her. “You’re a Lakota, aren’t you?”

Aside from their main mission here in the Dakota Territory, the Colonel has been fixed on fighting back against the Lakota Indians, especially after they sabotaged the supply line last month.

The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly.

“The Lakota rear up their own horses pretty damn well. Why would you want to steal one of ours?” he asks.

She glances away from him, first at her feet, then over at the camp’s latest “guest.” Dean, Benny, and a few of his men wrangled up a horse a few days ago. He’s a beautiful Kiger mustang with a nasty mean streak. He barely got through a trim this afternoon, and almost took a chunk out of Rufus when he tried to brand the horse.

The Colonel ordered them to tie the horse up to a post just outside the corral—no food or water for three days. He’d turned to Dean with a firm set to his face and issued a single order.

“Break him.”

Now, Dean catches the furtive look the Lakota woman gives the horse, who flicks his tail. The animal stares right at her, as if into her eyes.

“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. “That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.”

That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed.

“He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”

Dean's eyes widen a fraction. He glances back at the mustang.

So that's why she's here, he thinks. She's trying to mount a rescue. Dean feels a twinge deep inside, but he can't allow himself to care about that. They've collected a strong horse that will be a good support for their objectives here, once he's broken.

“Ah, well see,” Dean says, tipping his Stetson up to meet her gaze. “That’s kind of our specialty.”

“Sir, should we take her to the stockade?” Novak asks. He seems reluctant to do so to a woman, even an Indian, but he’s always been good at following orders.

Dean opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts him off. Colonel Asmodeus Sanderson steps out and takes a look at their captive.

“Not the stockade,” he says, with that Southern drawl that betrays his Kentucky roots. “Not yet.”

He approaches her with a slow, calculated gait. His hands gather behind his back. Dean gives her credit for looking Sanderson in the eye. She seems rightly wary, but not afraid.

“We won’t hurt you. I give you my word,” the Colonel says, “if you’ll lead us to your people’s camp.”

He takes a hold of her chin, turning her face this way and that, like he’s examining a dirty animal, and all that he’ll have to do to make it clean. She spits in his face.

Dean bites the inside of his lip against a smile. She’s got as much fight in her as the mustang. However, he has to school his face back into stoicism when Sanderson rears back in anger.

The harsh smack rings out in the clearing, along with the woman’s cry. Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.

Only Kline and Novak’s hold on her arms keeps her upright. She pants for breath, but again, she meets the Colonel with a face that doesn’t give away anything, despite the reddening mark on her cheek.

“The post,” he barks. “Three days. No food or water.”

Dean is kept busy by his duties. He makes sure the camp is running in order, accepting shipments of supplies and ammunition, among other things. Cas Novak is in charge of the stables, caring for the horses and putting them through their training. Jack Kline is young and strong and a good assistant, along with others in his unit.

Right now, Dean and Benny are going over the plans with Colonel Sanderson for continuing construction on the railroad, from here to the Black Hills. It’s a path that cuts straight through Sioux territory—the bands of Dakota and Lakota Indians that occupy the land.

“The natives are fightin’ us tooth and nail,” Sanderson says. “But maybe our guest will be able to help us…negotiate.”

Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.

He joined the army because…well, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His father had been a Cavalry Major, and he’d died an honorable death, now about a decade past.

Has it really been ten years? Christ.

Dean wipes his brow. Even with the windows open, the office is humid and smells like ass. He glances outside, where both the mustang and the woman are tied to their posts under a sweltering sun at high noon.

Not for the first time, Dean wonders what his dad would think of him now.

After the meeting, Dean and Benny fall into step together to inspect the camp. The summer sun shines hot on their blue uniforms, and occasionally they raise their hats to mop the sweat from their brows.

Things are running as usual, but many of the men’s eyes occasionally turn to the posts. Dean’s attention wanders there too without him realizing, catching on the woman’s dark hair. It shines even blacker in the sunlight, like a raven’s wing. He knows the shade because his dad used to have a feather kept in his journal, like a bookmark.

“You okay, brother?” Benny asks. Dean realizes what he’s doing, and his attention returns to the task at hand. Get it together.

Always forward, never backward.

“Just fine,” Dean replies. Benny gives him a knowing look.

“A bit unsavory, ain’t it?” he says. “Keeping her chained up without even a lick of water.”

“The Indians are getting smarter, bolder. They’re ambushing our men, going after our supply lines, and now, stealing our horses,” Dean says. “This is strategy.”

Benny shrugs slightly, making a sound of agreement. Dean hesitates, his gloved fingers flexing against his sides.

“If she was a man, you guys wouldn’t give a shit about putting a bullet through her head,” Dean says.

Benny’s gaze shifts downward. He doesn’t reply, but he concedes the point all the same.

They continue their route, and Dean keeps the rest of the conversation on the work at hand.

Mila has gone far longer without drink, but the sun is particularly unforgiving today. She’s prayed and prayed for even one cloud to glide overhead and shield her for a while. It’s not much better for her companion. He paces in place, occasionally tugging his head against the rope that binds him to his post.

She makes a clicking sound at the horse, getting his attention. She calls him by his name, and his ears flicker in her direction. He offers her a short whinny in response.

“I see you, Mato. I am with you,” she says in her native tongue. She hopes the sound of her voice will soothe him. He looks tired and hungry, but his eyes flick hard and untrusting on any man who comes near him. His spirit isn’t broken.

“Hey! Shut the hell up over there,” Roman shouts at her from where he and Cas are taking a short lunch break. Cas gives him a certain look, crossed mostly with annoyance.

Mila resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she closes them and tilts her face back to the sun. In a way, it feels cleansing. Maybe it can wash away the stench of the White Men’s hands on her body, manhandling her, checking her for weapons.

She spends the rest of the day watching the camp. One of their leaders, the Green Eyed One, called this a fort. It does look fortified, with tall walls made of thick wood constructed to form a cage—whether to keep others out, or to keep the men and horses in.

She identifies the Colonel as their chief, of a kind. Green Eyes is second in command, followed by the Bearded One with a strange voice. Even the scruffy Blue Eyed One has some authority, mostly over the Child Faced One. There are too many others to rank them all, but she knows the Loud Mouthed One is arrogant, even after she broke his nose. The way he carries himself, he clearly thinks he has more power than he actually has.

In her mind, Mila conjures up different plans of escape. All of them fall short in some way. The men didn’t find all of her weapons; a small knife is hidden deep in her boot. She could saw at her binds within an hour, but even with Mato to carry her out and away, the problem is escaping this camp without alerting the men. Without getting shot.

She has three days to think.

That night, the moon refuses to give her clarity. Her stomach is too empty, her throat too dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her attention shifts in and out of consciousness, until the sound of boots crunching in the dirt trills unease down her spine. More alert, she sits up straighter.

The Loud Mouthed One. The one they call Roman comes to taunt her, offering her water, then drinking for himself instead. He comes closer to examine her. He has a small bind over his broken nose.

“You know, you’re a pretty one,” he says, taking another cold sip as his gaze drags over her form. “For a wild thing.”

His face nears hers, clean shaven, though his thin smile reminds her of a rattlesnake. Dread and repulsion churn at odds in her stomach as she realizes what he's really here for. It doesn't matter if he truly wants her, or just wants to pay her back for his face. Either way, he means to take her here in the dirt.

She looks away, not wanting to let him see her fear, or the dread tightening her stomach, rising into her throat. He winds long fingers into her hair. At first the hold is gentle, deceptive. Then it's tight against her scalp. She hisses in pain when he tugs her head back and forces her to look at him. Her breathing quickens as she tries to pull away.

He draws in close to try and claim her in a kiss, but she head-butts him, hard.

He cries out and stumbles back, his flask falling to the ground.

He angrily grabs her and hauls her up to her feet. He pushes her hard against the post and unbuckles his belt, just to stuff it in her mouth. With his free hand, he begins to undo his pants.

She refuses to cry out, even though she spits out his belt and fights him, trying to kick out his knees.

Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.

Roman lies there catching his breath, and he spits a wad of phlegm and blood. His left eye will match his nose, that’s for sure.

Green Eyes looks angry and disgusted. He huffs and puffs while staring down at his subordinate. He pushes back his short brown hair and points an ungloved hand at Roman.

“Get back to the goddamn barracks. You’re gonna be mucking out stalls until shit’s coming out of your ears,” he growls.

Roman doesn’t argue, though it’s obvious that he wants to. He just picks himself up, makes a show of straightening up his open uniform jacket while catching his breath. He walks past Green Eyes with a resentful, angry look. Green Eyes watches him until he disappears inside.

Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.

“Sorry about that,” he says.

It’s not what she expected. Mila eyes him warily when he moves closer. She presses her back against the post until it hurts her spine. He raises up his hands placatingly.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.

“That is what your Colonel said,” she says. Her voice cracks with dryness. “I didn’t believe him either.”

His lips flicker at a rueful smile. It wrinkles crow’s feet around his eyes, breaking his stony face.

“Fair enough.”

He reaches for his belt and retrieves a flask, similar to the one his subordinate carried. He extends it out to her.

“It’s water, unless you prefer whiskey. I know I do,” he says.

She raises a brow at him, but hearing the sloshing inside the flask, her thirst takes over her wariness, and even her pride. She tentatively leans forward. He brings it closer so she can press her lips to the opening. Despite his Colonel’s orders, he lets her drink as much water as she’s able. When she’s done, he pockets the flask and sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“What’s your name?” he asks.

That, she will not give him. Names are sacred to her people, and this man, while seeming to have a shred of honor, isn’t worthy.

“Don’t wanna even tell me your name?” he says. He nods slightly. “Okay, well, I’m Dean. Captain Winchester, to this band of delinquents.”

He gestures around the camp with a dismissive hand. Mila only watches him. She’s never seen a White act like this, breaking his leader’s rules, being…kind.

What a strange man.

But if he had any real convictions, he would untie her and let her go, along with Mato. She won’t hold her breath.

Dean’s brows raise up toward his hairline, and his full lips form a pout. Realizing he’s not going to get anything more from her, he lets out a tired huff and straightens up.

“Well, goodnight,” he says.

He finally leaves her alone, but she can’t help but follow the swaggering path of his bowed legs and heavy boots. They carry him away and back indoors.

A strange man.

By the morning of the third day, Dean is ready to do what he does best. Or at least, one thing he does best.

He’s no stranger to horses. He grew up on a farm in Lawrence, Kansas, where he and his brother would help take care of the animals. Dean was older, so he helped his father till the land and train the horses. Sometimes he and Sam would sneak off and race their favorite ones, until their mom called them back for dinner.

In fact, part of what earned Dean his rank in the U.S. Cavalry was how well he could command a horse. His own is resting in the stables.

Today, he’s getting in the ring with the mustang.

…Well, not right away. He lets a few of his guys go first to tire him out. Even after three days of no food or water, the horse is living up to his bad attitude. He bucks each of them off after just a few seconds in the corral. Dean can tell it’s becoming a kind of game for the horse. His dun-colored coat shines in the sun, his brown socked legs kicking up dust and manure as he brays angrily at whoever tries to mount him.

Dean notices the Lakota woman watching with an amused smile on her face while she sits with her hands tied to her post. She’s enjoying the show, like she knew this would happen. It seems to give her energy every time another man is thrown off the horse and limps out of the ring.

Dean shakes his head. Pitiful.

He puts two gloved fingers to his mouth and whistles the entire clearing to attention. He saves Kline the chance to bruise his spine and pats him on the shoulder. Dean steps into the corral and positions himself into the stirrups, wrapping the reins around his hand. The horse is breathing hard, but he’s not done. He’s still got fight in him. Dean sees it in his brown eyes.

“All right, mustang. You’re big and bad. I get it,” Dean says lowly. “But I don’t scare easy. Gimme your best damn shot.”

Cas and Benny give him wary looks from where they stand outside the gate.

“Hold onto your hat, Cap,” Benny mutters.

Dean adjusts his hat and rests his gun on the post for safe keeping. He wants to feel as natural as possible, like it’s just him and this horse, out back in his family farm. He holds on tight to the reins. He’s fully prepared for how the mustang takes off at a galloping clip around the ring. He twists and bucks, but Dean claps his thighs tight and holds on for the ride.

The horse gets smarter.

He runs for the water trough just outside the ring. He slams Dean against the side of it once, twice—and manages to throw him off, with Dean landing right in the water trough.

He bursts out from the dirty water, sopping wet and spluttering in anger. He looks over at the horse trotting around, whinnying and tossing his head like he’s laughing. Dean can’t help it. His anger fades, and he smiles.

This guy’s got some brass balls, I’ll give him that.

The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?

“I see things are going well,” comes a familiar drawl.

Dean’s face falls as he looks up and finds Colonel Sanderson. Dean pulls himself out of the trough and tries to squeeze some water out of his uniform. He clears his throat.

“Well, uh, it’s going, sir. Just gonna take a little more time than I thought,” Dean says. He quickly reclaims his hat from the ring, giving the mustang a smart berth. After he climbs back out, he goes over to the post where he left his pistol.

“Hold him steady,” Sanderson barks out the order, but not at Dean. The other men wrangle the horse back into the pen, where Sanderson climbs up and mounts the horse himself.

To his credit, he stays on longer than even Dean thought he would. The mustang gallops and circles. He tries slamming Sanderson on the sides of the corral, tries bucking him and bucking him, but the man clings on, even when his hat falls into the dirt.

The horse is exhausted. He eventually stops in the middle of the ring, panting for breath, his legs shaking slightly. Dean straightens at attention.

So does the Lakota woman, he notices. She looks worried, her brows furrowing.

Sanderson swipes a hand over his graying hair and moustache to collect himself. He raises his head with an arrogant smile.

“You see, gentlemen. Any horse can be broken,” he says. He kicks the horse with his spur. “Move along, mustang.”

To everyone’s amazement, the horse obeys him. He moves forward at a slow clip. All the men applaud, even Dean, belatedly.

“There are those in Washington who believe the West will never be settled,” Sanderson continues. “The Northern Pacific Railroad will never breach Nebraska.”

His gaze draws over to the woman. Her eyes are filled with tears as she watches the Colonel makes his rounds.

“A hostile Lakota,” he says in derision, “will never submit to providence.”

She stares back at him with steel in her watery eyes.

Dean doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched tight until he feels the strain in his jaw. He forces himself to relax, with his hand on his dampened belt.

“And it’s that kind of small thinking that would say this horse would never be broken,” Sanderson says. “Discipline, time, and patience. That’s all you need to level a wild thing.”

Just then, the horse stops abruptly.

“Mustang?” Sanderson asks in warning.

Dean tenses. He knows what’s about to happen.

“Sir!” he calls out.

But it’s too late.

The stallion revs and charges, bucking even wilder than before. He swings his head and rears back high on his hind legs with a powerful bray. Sanderson yells in fear and strain, but he stays on the creature’s back.

The horse’s angry eyes take on a darker shade of conviction. When all four of his hooves hit the ground, he finally bucks hard enough to get the Colonel off his back, though he still clings to the reins near the animal’s head. He comes face to face with the horse’s crazed eyes. His own are wide and full of terror.

Hot breath heats Sanderson’s face. Then the horse swings his head and tosses the man out of the ring. In the process, the horse falls on his side and shatters a section of the wooden beams that fenced him in.

While he shakes his head and gets his hooves under him, Dean and Benny help the Colonel up to his feet. His uniform is a wreck, and now, with a bruised body and likely a couple of broken ribs, the man is fuming.

Kline and Roman wrangle the horse’s reins and keep him more or less in place. The Colonel shoves Dean and Benny off of him. He reaches for his gun at his belt and aims it at the mustang. Dean goes rigid in shock, but he knows he can’t interfere. If he does, it could warrant some major discipline.

The Colonel pulls the hammer back on the revolver, but before he can pull the trigger, the sound of cutting rope and a feminine yell breaks the silence in the clearing. The Lakota woman pulls the Colonel’s arms down, and the gun goes off into the ground. Her elbow comes up quick to strike the man between the eyes. He careens back into Benny, who catches him.

Meanwhile, the woman swings up onto the mustang. She grabs a stronghold by the neck and barks something in her native language. It spurs the horse onward, and he breaks through the crowd of men at a gallop.

Dean watches with widening eyes and furrowing brows. “Shit!”

He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.

They’re already approaching the gate where the men are quickly trying to close it. There’s still a window of opportunity for escape, but not only is Dean on their heels, Roman also stands on a pile of crates filled with iron parts that are due to be shipped out in the morning for continued construction on the railroad. Roman holds a rifle. He trains his weapon on the woman, taking deadly aim.

Dean’s jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He knows then, in the breadth of a few seconds, that he has to make a choice. If he does nothing, both she and the horse are as good as dead.

Sam used to call him reckless, stubborn as the horses he spent long hours taming.

Right about now, his brother is probably right.

Dean reaches for his gun, aims, and shoots within the span of those seconds. Roman goes down before he even knows what hits him. His chest plumes with blood after he slides down the crates and flops heavy to the ground. His eyes stare unseeing at the crisp blue sky.

The mustang tears through the narrow opening in the gate, and Dean isn’t far behind. The woman is an excellent rider, far better than he expected her to be. She clings to the horse’s neck and mane, and she doesn’t even use the stirrups. She clings on when the horse leaps over rocks, and when she notices Dean tailing her, she urges the horse at an even faster gallop.

Dean’s face furrows with determination. Baby is built for speed too.

He gives her a little kick with his heel. “Come on, Baby. Go!”

He’s able to keep up with the mustang just a few yards behind, even when they reach rougher terrain, going further up and into a canyon. He follows them through every curve and dip, guiding his horse just as much as she's guiding him.

Dean takes his rope in hand and turns it above his head, but his attempt to lasso the mustang's neck fails; the woman saws straight through the rope with her knife.

"Damn it!" Dean mutters.

He's forced to let go of his frayed rope when he and Baby nearly careen off the edge of a cliff. His heart settles high in his throat as he grits his teeth, but he pulls back on the reins hard and leans in the opposite direction. Baby's able to bank left, saving them from a long way down to certain death.

They continue up the narrow path the mustang has trod ahead. It carves around and through the mountain.

Dean mentally grasps for a plan, aside from just keeping up. Without even a bit of rope, he doesn’t know how he’s going to slow the woman down without hurting her or the horse. He doesn’t want to have to use his gun.

Eventually, the canyon breaks into a patch of desert, and then, grassy plains and tall forest trees. The mustang begins to tire and slow to a stop. His rider murmurs soothing things to him, stroking his neck. She turns back to look at Dean over her shoulder in dismay. She knows she’s caught.

“All right, sweetheart. That’s enough,” Dean says.

He sidles up next to her and intends to grab the mustang’s reins.

That’s when her swift kick comes, dead in his forehead.

AN: And here we go! 😅 Feels right that November is Native American Indian Heritage Month. 🫶🏽 For that reason especially I've done my best to do the Lakota people justice, even in this little series and complete work of fiction.

There's a lot packed in this first chapter, and yep, I did borrow a bit of scene from one of the best scenes in Spirit as an homage. From here on out, we're literally going off road...

Next Time:

Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and his hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.

“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.

The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.

Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.

Dean has a problem.

Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock…

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ythankucaptainmccoy · 3 months ago

Text

The Cowgirl and The Aviator Ch9

Cranking these chapters and y'all are in for a treat next chapter ;). @smoothdogsgirl WARNINGS: Verbal abuse, Fighting and mentions of birth.

The barn brought back all of the good memories when you used to compete. All the late nights under the bright arena lights galloping around barrels and you teared up. “You alright?”, Jake questioned. “Yeah just remembering what it used to be like when I competed in barrels back home”, you replied. Your smile made Jake’s grin turn into a full blown smile. Damn you loved the way this man smiled at you. “You can pick any of the horses in here”, Colton informed you. You looked back at Jake as he nodded for you to go ahead.

You walked down the row of stalls until you came to a stall that held a beautiful Kiger mustang. “What about this one?”, you asked. “That’s our newest edition. Only been ridden for thirty days. He’s still green but you're more than welcome to ride 'em’. We call him Rebel “, Colton explained. Jake seemed uneasy as he picked his horse a beautiful sorrel with white socks and blaze. You moved slowly and kept your voice calm as you haltered him.

You took your time with him as you groomed him then saddled him. You could tell by his facial expression he was nervous and you took a deep breath and exhaled letting your body relax. Jake and the others headed out of the barn as you made your way to where they were waiting on horseback. You patted Rebel’s neck as you grabbed mane and hauled yourself up and into the saddle. You breathed in deep and exhaled slowly again to relax your body which in turn seemed to relax Rebel.

You noticed Annabelle was trotting in a circle waiting on the three of you. Colton held Georgia in front of him on his horse and you swear it was the cutest thing ever. Jake kept watching you making sure the horse you were on wasn’t going to freak out. You all headed out and before too long you were in the middle of nothing but grassland. “Let's go”, Annabelle said. She kicked her horse and took off at a canter. Jake looked back at you as Colton made his horse go as well. “We don’t have to if you don’t feel comfortable”, Jake said.

“I have ridden lots of horses Jake and trained all kinds of horses even mustangs I know what I’m doing”, you tell him. You asked your horse to go and boy did he as he lunged forward at a full gallop. It startled you at first but then you gave him some rein and let him go. Jake had to kick his horse to go following behind you. It didn’t take you long to catch up to the others as you slowed your horse, but he didn’t want to slow. You pulled on the reins and sat against him as he decided to throw a small buck.

“Oh no ya’ don’t”, you told him as he tried to keep going. That’s when he went into full bucking mode. “Yeah ride ‘em!”, Colton yelled. Jake was gripped with fear as he watched you ride the bucks. It took a few minutes, but eventually he decided to stop. “Well Jake I gotta say your girl knows how to ride”, Colton said. “I can’t believe you let her get on that horse”, Jake huffed. “She did perfectly fine. I’m sure she wouldn’t have gotten on if she couldn’t handle it”, Colton told him.

You trotted up and stopped right in front of Jake’s horse. “That was the most fun I have had in such a long time”, you laughed. Jake’s mouth fell open slightly as you said something about going again then he smiled. “Come with me (Y/N) I know where we’re going”, Annabelle told you. You followed after her as Colton and Jake rode side by side. “I think you picked a good one Jake, she's a keeper”, Colton said. “Yeah she is”, Jake replied. “I was gonna’ wait to tell ya’ till after the ride, but your father found out you’re back. He has invited himself over tonight for dinner”, Colton informed. “Can’t that fucker just leave us well enough alone”, Jake sighed. “Bad unc Jake”, Georgia stated. “Sorry Georgia”, Jake replied. “He knows that you brought a woman back with ya’ so you know how this is probably gonna’ go”, Colton explained.

“Well I’ll let (Y/N) know and we will just have to deal tonight”, Jake said confidently. He was anything but confident right now. He knew what was in store at dinner and he was praying that you wouldn’t decide to leave him. He pushed the thought to the back of his head and enjoyed the ride. Between the three of you the cattle were safely moved and on the ride back Annabelle wanted to race. “I’m out, you know your momma doesn’t like me racin’ with Georgia”, Colton said.

“What about Jake and (Y/N)? We only race to the next gate.”, Annabelle asked. “I’m in”, you responded looking at Jake. “I don’t know it wouldn’t be fair for you two ladies”, Jake boasted. Colton snorted a laugh and shook his head. “There is that cocky pilot attitude”, you say. “I’m not cocky I just know I’m that good”, Jake grinned. “How about a bet”, you said. “What kind of bet?”, Jake questioned, remembering how the two of you met. “Well if you win I’ll take care of your horse when we get back, but if I win you have to take me out line dancing”, you say.

“Deal. Alright Annabelle let’s line up. Your dad can tell us when to go”, Jake said. “Annabelle gets a head start”, Colton said knowing that you two would pass her quickly. Annabelle took off and you kept looking at Jake who smirked that cocky way that you hated to admit that you loved. “On your marks. Get set. Let ‘em go!”, Colton yelled. Both horses launched themselves forward as you made your way to the next gate. You were both neck and neck, but you were still holding the reins on your horse pretty tight as you both passed Annabelle who yelled, “GO (Y/N) BEAT JAKE!”.

“See ya at the finish line darlin’!”, Jake yelled. You let him believe he had it, but continued to hold your horse back until the last quarter mile. You let the reins go slack and squeezed your legs. Rebel got the message and bolted ahead gaining quickly on Jake. When you passed him Jake had a look of shock as you laughed. You let out a joyous cry as you passed the open gate and slowed Rebel down. Jake wouldn’t admit but when he watched you canter back he was imagining you riding him like that.

“I believe you owe me a line dance”, you say coming up beside Jake’s horse. You patted Rebel on the neck as you waited for Annabelle and Colton to catch up with Georgia. Once back at the barn you untacked your horse and groomed him. Glancing at Jake every once in a while as he took care of his own horse. “Colton if you want we can take care of everything here in the barn”, Jake announced. Colton got the hint and took the girls inside as you and Jake put the horses in their respective stalls.

“Jake, do you think Colton and Evelynn would let me enter the rodeo with Rebel?”, you asked. “He is green and doesn’t even know how to run barrels”, Jake replied. “I can train him within our stay period if that’s okay with you”, you say. Jake can tell that it means a lot to you. “I’ll be okay with it as long as Colton and Evelynn are alright with it”, he tells you. You smile and lean up to kiss him long and slow. “You still owe me a line dance”, you laugh. “That I do, but I think you should ask Colton about Rebel first”, he says. With the affirmation you jog to the house where Evelynn and Colton are more than happy to lend Rebel to you, and before you leave with Jake you register for the rodeo.

Jake, true to his word, takes you into Austin to a bar that has line dancing. You both have a few drinks and you're surprised when he shows you he can in fact dance, but at one point they play George Strait’s song “The Chair”. Jake pulls you in close as you both slow dance and mouthing the words as the next song is another George Strait song “Carrying Your Love With Me”. He loves the content smile as you lay your head on his chest. As you both sway to the music Jake in this moment realizes that not once have you ever turned him away.

Even as he cried in the kitchen after losing Banshee and Fluke you were there to pick up the pieces. “(Y/N)”, he whispers. “Yes baby”, you reply, looking into his eyes. “I love you”, he tells you. At that moment you swear you see his heart and soul being poured out in front of you and you can’t help but kiss him slowly ro reply with, “I love you too Jake”. When the next song comes on you decide you want to go home. You get into the truck to head back to the ranch. “Jake can we camp out under the stars tonight?”, you ask.

“Anything for you darlin’ “, he responds. You both stop at the house to grab blankets and pillows. When you reach the pond Jake starts a fire as you set everything up in the bed of the truck. Under the stars you look at Jake who is looking at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world. “You know I was supposed to bring you to dinner tonight. My father was there to meet you”, he told you. “Why didn’t you?”, you inquired. “I promised to take you line dancing and you will always come before my asshole father”, he explained.

You smiled as you kissed him and pulled his shirt over his head. He grunts as you take a nip at his nipple before you go to his belt. That night you both spend time making each other cum with your mouths. Eventually Jake pulls you over him completely naked and covers you both as you both fall asleep. The night passes peacefully and you both startle awake when the truck’s horn blows loud and clear. Jake looks for the source and spots his father as he places you behind him. “What the hell do you want?”, Jake seethes.

“We need to talk”, Jake's father says. Jake looks at you as you nod to assure him you will be okay. His dad walks away as you both get dressed. You watch as Jake goes to talk with his father, but stay put and listen in as best as you can. “Why weren’t you at dinner last night boy?”, his father sneers. “I took my girl into town since I made a promise to take her out”, Jake replied. “Family is always first. I taught you better than to be disrespectful since your sister made dinner”, he said.

“She knew I wasn’t going to be there as I discussed it with her before we left for town. She was fine with us not being there so cut the shit. You are the one that feels disrespected because I put someone before you”, Jake accused. “Don’t think that your slut of a girlfriend won’t leave you like the last one”, his father digs. “She isn’t like the last one”, Jake defended. “Whatever you want to believe, but your sister is going to make dinner again tonight and I expect you to be there”, his father announced.

Jake’s father tipped his hat at you and got into his truck and drove off. “Jake, are you okay?”, you ask. “Yeah I’ll be fine. I’m sorry if you overheard what he said”, he apologized. “No Jake, Never apologize on your asshole fathers behalf. He doesn’t deserve it”, you reply. Jake smiles at that knowing you're in his corner. “Well let’s get to the house so we can get ready for the day. I want to help Evelynn with dinner since we missed last night”, you told him.

The drive back to the house you could tell Jake was nervous and tense. After your showers and getting ready Jake took you up to the main house so you could help Evelynn. “You know you don’t have to help me”, Evelynn said. “Well I feel like it’s the least I could do”, you replied. “Since you have met my father already I’m sure you have already judged what dinner will be like tonight. The last girl he brought home left crying and a couple days later she packed up and left”, Evelynn says.

“I wouldn’t leave Jake to fight this battle alone”, you assure. Evelynn smiles at that knowing that what you say is true. “You both are a great match”, she laughs. “Well I felt like whatever happened happened so fast. Hell to some it seemed too fast”, you sigh. “Well I only dated Colton for a year and look where we are now”, Evelynn laughs. It makes you feel better now to know that piece of information.

The day was spent helping Evelynn to get the dinner together as Jake, Colton and the girls had decided to go riding. When they got back everyone seemed to be bracing for the arrival of Jake and Evelynn’s father. He showed up a few minutes late, but no one said anything about it. You sat beside Jake and once everyone was sitting Colton said grace. The dinner table was quiet other than Georgia asking for help to cut up some of her food. “When are you coming back home to take over the ranch”, Jake’s father says.

“I’ve already told you not anytime soon”, Jake snaps. You knew this was going to be an intense dinner from the start. “Well at least your sister is finally having a son. I may leave everything to him”, his father states. “My son will not be saddled with that ranch’s name”, Colton speaks up. “So what your going to give him this ranch?”, he sneers. “He can take over this ranch, he can go to college or anything else he wants to do, but I won’t force him to take over anything if he doesn’t want to”, Colton replies.

“I always knew you married a weak man”, he says to Evelynn. It continues on for a few minutes as Jake is becoming more agitated. “I think the only weak man is you”, you blurt out at Jake’s father. “Excuse me, but I didn’t ask for your opinion”, he snarks. “No you didn’t but you’re gonna’ hear it anyway and I don’t give a damn how you feel about it. From what I can tell you can’t stand the fact that you aren’t in control of anyone anymore and it pisses you off”, you state. Jake is staring at you wide eyed as you square your shoulders.

Jake’s father glares at you as you hold his gaze. “You have some horns on you girl, but you will show me respect”, he states. “I only show respect to people who have earned it. I don’t just give it for free. So far tonight I have seen nothing you have done that would earn my respect”, you respond. Evelynn announces she is going to take the girls upstairs for a bath and leaves. Colton says something about going outside for some air.

Once outside Jake’s father picks his fight with you again. “I don’t think you’re the type I want dating my son”, he huffs. “Why because I speak my own mind and not afraid of a horrid old man that used to hit his wife”, you spit. The next thing you know Jake’s father throws a punch your way, but it never lands as you hear a grunt then a full on scrap. Jake had tackled his father and was now scrapping with him on the ground. “Jake”, you cry, but Colton grabs you as you try to go help him.

“He needs to do this (Y/N)”, Colton says. You watch as they trade blows, but it is clear that Jake is winning. Within ten minutes it’s over as Jake stands over his father. “Don’t you ever try to put your hands on my woman again. If you ever hurt her I’ll kill you old man. Now leave and don’t ever come back to bother me or this family ranch again”, Jake growls. Jake’s father is heaving as he is trying to catch his breath. Colton lets you go as you run to Jake to check him over, but he only pulls you into his side.

All three of you stare down the old man as he curses you all as he gets in his truck and leaves. As soon as he is gone you fuss over Jake’s face and his split knuckles. He lets you lead him into the kitchen where he pulls you into his lap as you try to ice the bruises on his face. “I love you”, he whispers. “I love you too, but you didn’t have to do that”, you reply. “It was a long time coming and I should have done it a lot sooner”, he tells you. You kiss him tenderly as you tell him to continue to ice his face while you help clean up the dinner table.

When Evelynn comes back down she asks Jake what had happened as he explains. Evelynn tells him how proud she is and that she was waiting for the day he would finally take his frustration out on their old man. Colton hands Jake a beer and they head outside as you help Evelynn with the dishes. “You know he loves you right”, she tells you. “I know he does, I can see it every day”, you respond. “You’re the first girl he has brought here since college”, she mutters. “What do you mean?”, you ask.

“He brought his ex down here, and she cried when my father came to dinner. Then a week after they went back Jake found out that she was cheating on him with his roommate. He was shattered when he found out because he had bought a ring to ask her to marry him. He hasn’t had a real relationship since then and that was years ago”, Evelynn explained. You looked out to the front porch where Jake was still talking with Colton. “Most people never give him a chance. I know he can be cocky when he is on base, but no one really knows him like we do”, Evelynn says.

You file away that information as you finish up. When you and Jake end up back at the house you're staying in you show him how grateful you are by giving him a massage. “Thank you for protecting me”, you whisper. “I would do it anytime for you darlin’ “, he whispers back. That night you relax by watching a couple of old westerns until you fall asleep. Jake feels liberated after all these years of taking verbal abuse and sometimes physical abuse from his father. He smiles down at you when he recalls Colton telling him you were ready to jump into the scrap to help him.

The week is much the same, but you spend most days training Rebel and within the week he has it down. The rodeo is a week away and you are getting more excited as Jake watches you train. He has to admit he likes watching you ride even with being thrown a couple times. Each time you were thrown he would run into the arena checking you over. You would just laugh and tell him it was part of the process especially with a green horse. The days wear you out, and you are usually asleep by the time Jake slips into bed.

The next week goes by smoothly until Wednesday as Colton comes tearing down the driveway. “Evelynn thinks it’s time to go. Can you take the girls and meet us at the hospital”, he rushes. Jake agrees as the girls get out of the truck and come to stand with you. Evelynn is in the passenger seat cool as a cucumber. “Are you okay?”, you ask. “Yeah this is my third kid I know what to expect now. He is a little early, but it’ll be alright”, she tells you. Colton hops back in the truck and floors it out of there.

“I think he is more worried than she is”, you laugh. “Yeah you should have seen him with Annabelle”, Jake states. You get Georgia into the truck in her car seat and Annabelle gets herself buckled in. Three hours and you're in the hospital waiting room as the girls try to keep themselves entertained. Annabelle decides she wants to go for a walk around the hospital so you all decide to go. Georgia is smiling as she points at the ducks on a small pond by the hospital.

“Uncle Jake, can we go get something to eat?”, Annabelle complains. “Yeah we can walk down the street and get some Mexican food”, Jake says. Annabelle lights up at the prospect and Jake explains that Mexican food is Annabelle’s favorite. The meal is delicious and you help Georgia with her cheese quesadilla. Jake can’t help but watch you anytime you interact with the girls. He knows that you’re good with kids and if he plays his cards right he hopes someday you both can have some kids running around.

When you all got back to the hospital it was late evening when the nurse came out to inform you that Evelynn and the baby were doing great. A couple hours after that another nurse came to ask if anyone wanted to go see the baby. Annabelle was excited as she pulled on Jake’s hand as you held a sleeping Georgia. “Go meet your nephew I’ll stay here with Georgia”, you whisper. He leaned down and kissed you then headed to go meet his nephew.

When Jake comes back he has tears in his eyes with the goofiest grin on his face. “Are you okay?”, you ask. “Yeah it was just a lot”, he says. “He was so small”, Annabelle says. “You used to be that small when you were born”, Jake says. “How do you know?”, Annabelle questioned. “Because I waited in this same hospital and held you after you were born”, Jake muses. Georgia was still asleep and Jake had said that Evelynn and the baby would be home by Friday. “Do you mind if the girls come back home with us?”, Jake asked. “I don’t mind baby”, you tell him.

When you reach the house Jake goes to the empty room that you hadn’t been in. There were two twin beds and you could tell this is where the girls would stay when he was here. You carried a still sleeping Georgia while Jake carried a now sleeping Annabelle. They looked so peaceful and Jake turned out the light grabbing your hand and leading you to your room. You both lay there as Jake holds you. “He was so small and I can’t believe I have a nephew. I wish you could have seen him”, Jake sighs.

“I’ll see him soon enough”, you tell him. You both fell asleep, but it didn’t last long as you felt a tug on the back of your shirt. You rolled over and came face to face with Georgia, tears streaming down her face. “Oh what's wrong sweetheart?”, you ask. “Stom”, she hiccupped. About two seconds later the sky lit up and thunder boomed outside as Georgia jumped clinging to you. “Darlin’ what’s wrong”, Jake yawned. “The storm woke Georgia up”, you relayed. “Do you want to sleep in our bed?”, you asked. She nodded as you pulled her up and in between you and Jake.

“It’s alright Georgia you're safe here with Uncle Jake and Aunt (Y/N)”, Jake hummed half asleep. You froze as Georgia curled up between you as Jake’s words sank in. You watched as she snuggled into you and clung to your shirt. Jake smiled and threw his arm around both of you as everyone settled in. Jake and Georgia went to sleep first then you drifted off soon after. The next morning Georgia and Jake were gone and you could hear giggling coming from the kitchen.

When you walked in there was pancake batter all over the counters. Annabelle was giggling as Jake was making pancakes. “Aunt (Y/N)!” Georgia squealed. She ran to you and hugged your leg and you instantly started to tear up. “Darlin’ what’s wrong?”, Jake asked. “I have never been called Aunt anything”, you said. “I thought your brother had kids”, Jake stated. “Yeah but he never let me see them”, you replied.

Jake stopped what he was doing and came over to pull you into a hug. “Well you have a family here if you want it”, Jake told you. You let the tears fall as you heard those words and next thing you knew Annabelle and Georgia were hugging you too. “Uncle Jake is right, we can be your family. “Thanks now let’s try and clean up this mess”, you sniffled. As Jake finished the pancakes you and Annabelle helped clean up.

#top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #dagger squad #bradley rooster bradshaw

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