#cassian and bryaxis
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Cassian after overhearing that bryaxis was missing:
And? This? Isn’t? Your? Number? One? Priority?
Rhys: it’s fine cass
#sarah j maas#acotar#rhysand#feyre archeron#feysand#azriel#cassian#nesta archeron#bryaxis#acowar#cassian and bryaxis
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Speaking of Bryaxis would you be willing to write something where the Valkyrie are friends with him and find out he's as bad a gossip as the Suriel? He doesn't even need to make an appearance it could just be a combo they're having at training during cool down or stretching about the gossip he's spreading. Of course it would be great if Cassian freaked out. Maybe all of the guys could become a bit more scared of the Valkyrie and or gain respect for them
King of gossip
Summary: The Valkyries are having a book club meeting, but it turns into a conversation about their new friend, Bryaxis, latest gossip. Feyre, trying to rekindle a kind of "sisterhood" with Nesta, joins them and confess she knew about someone who loved to spill the tea, too...
Word count: 1.3K
Warnings: None.
A/N: Well! First request, I hope it doesn't disappoint!
Laughter echoed through Nesta's door. Feyre stood behind it, a tray of freshly baked goods in hands. She bathed in the joyful sounds that her big sister and her new friends made. Nesta was glowing lately. She looked happy, clean, satisfied, and peaceful. Feyre had never seen her sister happier than on the day of her mating ceremony with Cassian. That man truly saved Nesta from her darkness. He had always kept holding out his hand to her despite her snarls and bites, and always will. Feyre would forever be grateful for that man to be part of Nesta’s life. She would also always remind herself of the strength Nesta has, that too helped the eldest to get through all of her difficulties.
Nesta seemed to have finally found her people. The ones that made her whole and happy. Feyre knocked on the door softly before peeking her head in. The laughter in the room ceased progressively when she walked in, the group of Valkyries staring at her. Gwyneth almost squealed in excitement at the sight of the cookie pan in Feyre's hands. Nesta rolled her eyes, trying to look unbothered by her sister's presence, even though deep down, she was glad Feyre was here. She was even more glad that they managed to rekindle their “sisterhood”, as Feyre called it. Maybe one day Nesta would admit it to her little sister, that she forgives her for her clumsiness in trying to help her. She knew her intentions were good.
“I thought you guys might enjoy some snacks for your… reading club, is that it?” Feyre chimed in, trying to hide her nervousness as she entered the room. To her surprise, Nesta didn’t give a snarky response, nor kindly kicked her out. The eldest simply raised her chin and took a cookie off the platter. Nesta grinned slightly at the flavors exploding in her mouth. She murmured a thanks to her younger sister, and then Feyre put the tray down on the sculpted oak coffee table. Gwyneth spoke up then, her pale freckled cheeks already covered in cookie crumbs. “Well, we weren't actually reading. Actually, we were talking about Bryaxis’ latest gossip about the “Lord of bloodshed”...”
At that, another round of laughter erupted in the room. Emerie managed to explain to Feyre what that gossip was about, while the two other Valkyries were still wheezing and holding their bellies. “Well… Bryaxis said that once… He saw Cassian walk into the library to pick up one of Nesta's latest readings… and took notes of the steamy scenes…” Emerie wiped a tear with her finger, trying to steady her breathing from laughing too much about the mental image of the General actually taking notes, as if he would just read them out while having sex with Nesta.
Feyre laughed too, and Nesta scooched over on the couch, offering her an indirect invitation to join them. Feyre smiled, and sat down beside her sister. She wanted to say thank you to her sister, thank you for letting her in. But she knew it would make Nesta uncomfortable and that she would most likely close up on herself and tell her to fuck off. So she didn't, and just enjoyed Nesta’s sweet gesture. The High Lady adjusted herself on the couch, crossing her legs and took a pillow to squeeze between her arms. “I think Bryaxis is really the king of gossip… maybe we should name him that.” Nesta said, a glint of amusement flickering in her eyes as she looked over her sister, sitting beside her. A wry smile appeared on Feyre's face, a smile Nesta knew all too well. A smile that meant “I know something you don't.”. She cooked an eyebrow up and now everyone was staring at the younger Archeron in the room for further explanations.
Feyre chuckled and sighed, leaning further into the couch. She slowly took a bite of the cookies she made with Elain earlier today, before the middle Archeron sister left her to go on a date, no, a walk she insisted it was, with Lucien. The Valkyries fell silent in the room, waiting for Feyre’s explanation. “Well… I knew someone once that truly was the king of gossip…” Feyre bit her lip and smiled at the memory of her old friend. She tried not to let herself sink into the memory of their last meeting, of the sacrifice her friend made to save her life… Instead, she focused on the good memories. Gwyneth pressed then, waiting for further explanations. “Whom?!” “The Suriel…” Feyre purred, her voice filled with suspense. She straightened her posture, knowing she would need to elaborate more than that to satisfy the Valkyries' curiosity.
●°●°●°●
Feyre was now rocking Nyx to sleep in the living room. The fire was gently roaring in the hearth, and the peaceful sounds of Nyx's soft snores were enough to fill Feyre's heart with pure content. She spent the whole evening telling about the gossip she heard from the Suriel, and the Valkyries told the stories they and Bryaxis shared too. The two creatures truly were similar, especially in their taste of spilling the tea. Seeing her sister laughing with her wonderful group of friends AND her letting her in… it meant the world to Feyre. This was a moment she would forever cherish. She might even paint the Valkyries reaction when she told them about all of the tea the Suriel had spilled to her… She wanted to immortalize their reaction with colors on a canva. Gwyneth had even screamed that she was about to pee her pants from laughing too much when Feyre kept telling them her stories, which had aggravated the roar of laughter in the room.
She stood up to carry Nyx to his room and tuck him into the comfort of his crib, hoping that tonight she and Rhys might have a whole night of interrupted sleep. She kissed her son on the forehead and quietly headed out of the nursery. “Ah!” She startled and raised a hand to her chest, sighing in relief when her brain figured out the identity of the man standing into the hallway. She hoped her tiny shriek of surprise didn't wake the little prince up, then whispered to Cassian. “Cass… what are you doing up…” He bit his lip and brushed his hair back, off of his forehead. Lines of worry were forming between his brows as he spoke. “Did you tell Nes about… Um…” He patted the tiny notebook he always had in his pocket, knowing that Feyre knew exactly what he was talking about. Cassian and Feyre told each other everything, Cassian had proudly confessed his little mischief once, on a drunken night. Confessed that he was taking notes off of Nesta's smutty novels.
Feyre shook her head and chuckled, walking away, too tired to deal with the General tonight. Her bed was calling at her urgently, and Rhys mentally made it clear about his intentions about the plans he had for them both tonight in that exact same bed… But Cassian grabbed Feyre softly by the arm, his eyes pleading. “Whom then..?” Feyre shrugged, just wanting to get over with it so she could join her mate in their bed to have some fun before Nyx might wake up. “Bryaxis. Good night now, Cass.” She said as she walked away from Cassian's ghost white figure.
●°●°●°●
Cassian had been more than sweet to Nesta the following days, especially because of his discovery about Nesta's new… ally. What a traitor his mate was… The news about the Valkyries and Bryaxis’s friendship spread as fast as a breeze of fresh air… Soon enough, they realized how no one seemed to bug them about anything anymore… Not only did Bryaxis manage to offer them the best tea and gossip there was, but indirectly it had brought them a deep respect amongst everyone. Probably because of their fear of Bryaxis spilling their every secret to his lovely friends…
#acotar#acosaf#fiction#the valkyries#valkyries#acotar fandom#my fic#acotar fic#the suriel#suriel#gossip#spilling the tea#spilling tea#cassian acotar#cassian#nesta archeron#elain archeron#elain acotar#nesta acotar#feyre archeron#feyre acotar#bryaxis#cassian and bryaxis#cassian bryaxis#funny stuff
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It's the morning after Solstice, so you know what that means! ❄️
Despite Bryaxis bringing the heat, I think Azriel's got it locked up this year again. Bryaxis is mostly looking forward to the sauna and breakfast anyway.
*Cue up the Mortal Kombat music*
(What are the betting odds on this sleep deprived dad vs. nightmare creature's sidekick vs. sexually frustrated boi in mittens debacle??)
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanart#acotar art#acosf#rhysand#cassian acotar#azriel shadowsinger#bat boys#shadowbabies#acofas#bryaxis
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Nightmares & Dreams
Summary - Cassian just needed some physical contact to help him sleep.
A/N - Friendly reminder that canon cassian does like physical contact. Also, it’s short but I just needed to get something out there so here it is! 620 words.
*Don’t repost or translate my work without my permission.
*These characters and world do not belong to me.
🌌✨🌌
Cassian was known for many things. To the entirety of Prythian he was an Illyrian, a warrior, a General––Lord of Bloodshed. To his family he was a brother, a friend, a jokester, and a poor diplomat, who went to Rita’s for the drinks, not the dancing.
His life was really rather simple. Get up, train, train some more, maybe make a few visits required of him. Eat, sleep. The sleep was less predictable. Somehow there was this magic belief that he was so strong and he really only suffered injuries. His work came with more than physical consequence.
Cassian had injured and killed countless people during his lifetime. When the carriage was over he often found himself vomiting, sometimes mourning his victims––the guilt pumping through his veins. Guilt that chased him even when he slept. He had become used to the lack of sleep. It wasn’t uncommon for Cassian to wake up two or three times throughout the night from his nightmares. Flashes of death all around him, and then he was suddenly sitting up in his bed, in a cold sweat.
Cassian had also grown used to the following hour of lying awake, unable to get himself to fall back asleep. That hour alone with his thoughts, the images from the nightmares flashing before him. Then there were some mornings when he didn’t try to fall back asleep. Those were the mornings that people took him as a dedicated warrior who rose extra early to train, not a general running from his nightmares.
Then you entered the picture. For the number of times he had been to Rita’s Cassian questioned how you had never caught his eye. A beautiful female Illyrian freely dancing on the floor amongst others, lost in the music.
“Cassian! Cassian! Did you… oh–” Mor said before realizing Cassian was already heading for you. She subtly smirked to herself.
Somehow between the many bodies and loud music, Cassian managed to find himself in an intimate conversation, one that flowed effortlessly. The following night Cassian found himself at Rita’s again, but unlike past nights he didn’t head straight to the bar.
“She’s over there,” Mor said with a grin, pointing towards where you were dancing.
Cassian didn’t respond, making his way to you––his reputation parting the crowd for him. It happened again. Hours of conversation only this time Cassian found you in his bed that night. It felt like he had barely fallen asleep when he was plagued with a nightmare.
He stood in the middle of a field, everyone dead around him and then he saw Rhys, Feyre. Cassian turned his head to see Az and Mor. Nesta’s body over Elain’s, protecting her sister until her last breath. Then he was down in the library again and he was being dragged away down, down, down.
But for the first time something called to him, to pull him away from the Bryaxis. “General? General?! Cassian!”
Everything blurred around him and suddenly was back in bed…next to you. Cassian glanced over to you, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
“Cassian,” you could see the panic in his eyes and without a second you wrapped the Lord of Bloodshed in your arms.
Cassian didn’t protest, a fuzzy feeling filling his body. He adored physical contact. He clung to you like you were a lifeline, his arms tightly around your middle until his heartbeat slowed and for the first time in his life it didn’t take an hour to find sleep, only half that time. Just before Cassian completely drifted off he felt a tug at his chest, a feeling he had waited for all his life, a feeling that told him you were his dream.
#cassian x reader#cassian acotar x reader#feyre x rhysand#cassian acotar#reader#feyre archeron#rhysand acotar#azriel acotar#mor acotar#bryaxis#nesta archeron#elain archeron#acotar fanfic#acotar fanfiction#acotar oneshot
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Shrek x Acotar
Because I always say acotar is shrek coded, here ya go
+ Feyre dragging Ianthe
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#feyre archeron#feyre#feyre cursebreaker#high lady of the night court#high lady feyre#feyre darling#rhysand#rhys#high lord rhysand#rhysand archeron#rhys acotar#high lord of the night court#cassian#cassian acotar#nesta archeron#nesta acotar#nyx#nyx archeron#baby nyx#nyx acotar#the bone carver#Stryga#the weaver#the suriel#bryaxis#Baby bryaxis#Bryaxis acotar#shrek
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Is anyone else annoyed asf when they see art of ACOTAR characters talking with the Suriel and Bryaxis? Maybe I’m being a bitch but Feyre gets one niche. ONE true thing that sets her apart from every other character and that’s the fact that she befriends MONSTERS!! 😂 It’s so cool and unique and yet I see fanart of Gwyn and Emerie with the suriel? Cute but the suriel chose to appear to Feyre not just anyone. I also see Bryaxis with everyone BUT Feyre as if Feyre isn’t the only person to speak to it. I’m probably being obnoxious but I’ve never seen fanart of Feyre being a Valkyrie or participating in a snowball fight, that’s all I’m saying 🤷♀️
#acotar#feyre archeron#nesta#rhysand#azriel#cassian#feyre x rhysand#feysand#sjm#sjm books#bryaxis#the suriel#high lady feyre#elain archeron#nesta archeron
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Cowboy Like Me
Never thought I'd meet you here
Summary: When Nesta is stranded in rural Montana, she finds herself rescued by an unlikely pair.
Day 1 of @sjmromanceweek: Meet-Cute
Also, check out this art of Cowboy Cassian from @melphss
Read on AO3
Nesta was in hell.
Who got married in Montana? Montana seemed like the sort of place you exiled people to die in lonely misery. She didn’t give a fuck about all the open sky, the clean air, or the nature that quite literally ambled up to her rental car looking for a snack. Nesta wasn’t built for this sort of life and maybe it said something about her that she couldn’t imagine anyone else who was.
She’d made a mistake, though. When she’d rented her airbnb, she’d just assumed it was an actual home, like the pictures had depicted, and not some ramshackle hovel with a literal hole in the ground for shitting.
For fifty dollars a night, she supposed she deserved that. Nesta thought that maybe she also deserved her twisted ankle. Heels on a gravel road had been an obvious mistake—was she supposed to go barefoot? She hadn’t brought anything else. Nesta emitted a soft scream of hatred for this new, cheerful place before propping herself up on the hood of her car to look at her swelling ankle.
All this for a wedding. The minute Nesta managed to get back into her car, she was going to book a flight home and block this friend forever. Why was she even trying to have friends outside of Gwyn and Emerie, besides? Nesta maneuvered her phone from her black skirt pocket only to find that of fucking course she didn’t have service.
She screamed again, irate with the whole endeavor.
“All right, ma’am?” a masculine voice called. Nesta whipped her head to the side of the long, gravel drive, intending to give that busybody man the middle finger for his trouble.
She hesitated. To start, the man in question was astride a large black horse. She had no quick comeback for a man who was pulling towards her shiny red sedan like he’d stepped straight out of eighteen forty six.
He swung one of his long, powerful legs off the creature with ease, revealing himself to be at least six foot-five. Nesta had never considered herself a small woman, standing at five-nine without heels, but as he approached, his rough stubbled face hidden beneath the brim of his cowboy hat, Nesta felt positively dainty.
He swept his hat off his head and Nesta wished he hadn’t. Holding it against the blue and green flannel of his shirt, he was like something out of a magazine ad for country living. Warm brown skin, hazel eyes, and dark brown hair that fell to his shoulders was a lethal combination on this man. His chiseled jaw, the stubble grazing his cheeks, and his rough features made Nesta think he had no trouble picking up women.
And that irked her, even as she swallowed with desire. He was absurdly stunning, the absolute dream of anyone hoping to marry a cowboy from a long-forgotten age. Those eyes of his, framed with ridiculously long lashes, swept over her, and then her surroundings.
“Tricked, huh?” he asked in a rich, deep drawl. “You wouldn’t be the first. Won’t be the last.”
“Someone should burn this place to the ground,” she hissed, one hand still gripping her hurt ankle.
He chuckled. “I don’t think that would stop someone from tryin’ to sell it. You hurt?” he added, his eyes falling on her ankle.
“I twisted my foot,” she admitted. He knelt, the sight emptying out all of Nesta’s thoughts. She could only stare at his thighs, bulging in his tight jeans. His hand was large enough to wrap fully around her ankle, and ever so slowly, he pulled her foot from her scuffed black heel.
“This is your problem,” he said, holding up her shoe with a frown.
“Well I know that now,” Nesta hissed, “you must be a psychic.”
His eyes flashed. “Can you drive?”
“No,” she admitted, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I wouldn’t go around insultin’ the only person who can help…but that’s just me,” he replied.
Nesta hesitated. “Are you a doctor?”
He snorted, rising to his feet again. His large, muscular body blocked the bright sun the way a tree might, and Nesta couldn’t pretend she wasn’t grateful.
“Cattle rancher,” he replied, “but I know a thing or two about tapin’ up a sprain. We’ll get you iced up and bandaged and on your way Miss…”
She sighed. “Nesta Archeron,” she half grumbled.
“Miss Archeron—”
“Nesta. Don’t be ridiculous.”
He smiled, setting her heart racing. “Miss Nesta, then. I’m Cassian, and I’m walkin’ towards you real slow because I don’t want to spook you.”
“Why would you—put me down right now!”
He shook his head. “And let you finish breakin’ what you started? No offense, darlin’, but carrying you is a lot safer than letting you hop on the horse—”
“Why can’t we drive?”
He looked down at her, his amusement plain. “And what would I do with Bryaxis?”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Nesta breathed, gripping Cassian’s neck until her nails dug into his skin. “I’ve never been on a horse.”
“He doesn’t bite,” Cassian replied. “I’ll be right behind you.”
She couldn’t help her squeal as he hoisted her up into the fine leather saddle. Nesta’s bare thighs touched the material, spreading her legs obscenely, though Cassian didn’t seen to notice or care. He merely swung himself up behind her. He put one hand on her hip, the warmth seeping through her silken skirt, before reaching for the reins.
“What were you doing out here, anyway?”
He nodded towards a saddle bag. “Needed a few things in town.
“And you took a horse?” she replied, trying to imagine where he’d even park it.
Cassian’s laugh rumbled through his chest. “Where are you from, Miss Nesta?”
“Chicago,” she replied, well aware she was proving every city slicker stereotype true. “Have you ever been?”
She felt him shrug. “Nope. I’ve been to cities before, but not so far south.
So far south. Nesta didn’t know how to respond to that. “You’re not missing much, honestly.”
“No? Is Chicago not home sweet home?”
It was Nesta’s turn to shrug. “It’s where I live.”
If he had thoughts about that, Cassian kept them to himself. That was just as well—Nesta didn’t want to fight some stranger when she was currently on his horse, unable to even run. He’d left her shoes on top of her car and her suitcase in the trunk. Nesta was literally at his mercy, given the small, two-lane road they were currently traveling down had no hint of civilization besides the two of them.
She’d done such a shitty job picking an airbnb.
“What are you doin’ up here, then?” he asked after a moment. His voice had the most pleasant gravel, deep and dark like a star-flecked sky. Nesta knew she was leaning against the broad plain of his chest and found she didn’t care.
“My friend is getting married,” she said. “I guess her fiance grew up out here.”
“Oh yeah?” he replied, an obvious smile in his voice. “Married on a ranch?”
Nesta twisted in her saddle. “Don’t you dare—”
“Lots of people rent out my barn on the edge of the property. You can stay up with me, if you need a place. I’ll charge you a real fair price.”
She rolled her eyes. “What’s that?”
“You ever mucked out a stall, Miss Nesta?”
She poked him in the ribs, turning back to face the endless expanse of cloudless blue. “Is that your thing, then? Humbling the city girl by making her clean up shit?”
“Maybe I think you’d be real pretty with a little mud on your face.”
Nesta swallowed. “I don’t do mud,” she said, looking at her immaculate nails.
“What do you do, then?” Why did he sound so suggestive? Nesta’s hands were clammy–nervous. When had a man ever had that effect on her?
“Law,” she told him. “Corporate law.”
He made some soft, noncommittal noise that was, honestly, a lot better than a lot of the finance men she dated. Cassian acknowledged he’d heard her without feeling the need to cut her down in service of his own ego.
“I don’t know much about that,” he finally admitted. Nesta could have kissed him for it, though she wouldn’t.
“It’s pretty boring,” she said, earning another of his soft noises.
“I don’t believe that for a minute,” he replied. “You don’t strike me as the type to spend your time sufferin’.”
“Well…I do get to humble really rich men with a fair amount of regularity,” she admitted with a smile. His grip on her waist tightened.
“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his breath fanning against the back of her neck. She shivered, unintentionally leaning further into him. She was acting like a cat in heat over a man she’d known for fifteen minutes.
“I’ll pay,” she breathed. Behind her, Cassian went stiff.
“Pay?”
“For a room,” she clarified, wondering what he was thinking. “If you were serious about your offer, I’d pay you for it.”
“Oh, darlin’, there’s no need for that. Just a little hel—”
“I told you I don’t do dirt,” she snapped. “You can have money or nothing at all.”
“I’m not takin’ your money,” Cassian drawled. “Just keep after yourself and don’t disturb the cats.”
Her heart stuttered. “Cats?”
“Yeah. My girl just had kittens and she’s real skittish, so if you see her, be real quiet and soft.”
Nesta could have died. “What's her name?”
She wanted a cat so badly. Her landlord expressly forbade any animals at all, and Nesta was too much of a rule follower to risk a secret cat. The thought of spending three days surrounded by a mama cat and her little kittens seemed like heaven.
“Cheddar,” Cassian admitted ruefully. “She’s orange. Dad must be black, though, because half her little beans are black, too.”
A soft squeak slipped from Nesta’s throat. “Do they have names?”
“Not yet. Maybe you’ll help me out with that,” he added with what sounded suspiciously like hope.
She didn’t dare unpack that. Not as Cassian pulled off the road, steering his steady horse down another gravel path. Untouched grass stretched for miles in every direction until the sky met mountains in the distance.
“Your friends will be down there,” Cassian told her, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. Accident, she swore, watching the point of his finger. “But we’ll be up here. I’ll walk you down for the wedding…keep you from wreckin’ that other pretty ankle of yours.”
“Does that work on the women around here? Your folksy charm, your aw shucks—”
Cassian laughed. “Are you askin’ if being nice gets me laid?”
“Does it?”
“My good looks get me laid, darlin’. My folksy charm, as you so eloquently put it, is just called manners outside of the city. No need to pretend.”
“You’d be surprised,” she told him dryly. Cassian merely held her close, his eyes fixated on the two story ranch just in the distance. Nesta could have wept with relief. The saddle was rubbing against her inner thigh, chafing her delicate skin and the woodsy scent of smoke and pine coming off Cassian was threatening to throw all Nesta’s good sense out the window.
His home sprawled against the Montana countryside. Built to look as if it was made of wood—and maybe it was, for all she knew—the house had to be worth a cool million in Nesta’s estimation. She didn’t dare look over her shoulder at him, though. Didn’t dare acknowledge she knew this man wasn’t the simple, rural cattle rancher he was trying to embody.
And Nesta certainly didn’t let him see that she was weirdly relieved. She liked an ambitious man. And unlike all the men she’d been dating back home, Cassian wasn’t slick. Nesta would have put all the money she had on Cassian being the sort who had his heart on his sleeve for all to see. She had no business thinking about that.
This wasn’t a date.
Cassian swung off his horse and gently pulled her back into his arms.
“Don’t you go runnin’ off,” he warned Bryaxis.
“Will he?”
Cassian merely shrugged as he took her up a stone laid path towards his glass and wood front door.
“If he goes anywhere, it’ll be next door to his girlfriend.”
She couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her. “Your horse has a girlfriend?”
“He’s a good-looking horse. Why shouldn’t he have a girlfriend. I catch him all the time down by the fence nuzzlin’ her with his nose.”
“Like you, then?”
Cassian chuckled. “I am very single, Miss Nesta—”
“Just Nesta,” she interrupted, breathless as he brought her inside. “The Miss makes me feel like someone’s kindergarten teacher.”
“Fine, Nesta. I, unlike my horse, am very single.”
“Any particular reason?” she asked, wishing she sounded snide and not interested.
Cassian set her on a long, dark leather sofa, He swept his hat off his head as he knelt in front of her again.
“You want to know why I’m single? Maybe I work too much,” he said softly, sliding her his hand up and then back down her knee. “Maybe I’m a shitty kisser.”
“I’ll bet it’s the second,” she replied. Cassian’s hazel eyes met her own, a smirk curving over his sensual mouth.
“And you? Are you a shitty kisser?”
“Terribly deficient.”
“I figured,” he murmured, turning his gaze back to her swollen ankle. Cassian grabbed a red pillow from the corner of his couch to prop up her foot. “Why don’t you stay here and I’ll get us all set up, hm?”
“Okay.”
Cassian vanished long enough for Nesta to fire off several quiet texts and otherwise study his really nice home. The living room had a wall made of pointed windows, and though everything had that wood cabin aesthetic, it was cozy and cheerful and bright. She flipped through her work emails while she waited, dragging a knitted blanket off the back of the sofa over her lap.
Was she insane for hanging out in a stranger's house? She would never have dared back home—her friends thought she was insane. And yet she was at the right place, and if Cassian wanted to hurt her, surely bandaging up her foot wasn’t necessary. She doubted his neighbors would have heard her scream if she stood outside and emptied her lungs of air.
Cassian returned nearly an hour later, balancing a glass of water and a plate in one massive hand, and her suitcase in the other.
“You got my things?” she asked him, surprised he’d bother. She’d assumed she’d have to hobble back out there for it.
“Of course, darlin’,” he replied, setting a nice sandwich and two ibuprofen down on the wood coffee table right in front of her. “Unless you plan on wearin’ that skirt the entire time? I don’t mind, but…”
Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you. That was really nice.”
He ducked his head. ���Have somethin’ to eat before you take the medicine. You look like you haven’t had anything but coffee today. Pain killers won’t settle well on an empty stomach and while you’re cute, you’re not cute enough to clean up puke.”
Nesta was rendered speechless. That was for the best. Everytime he casually said something nice about her, Nesta was far too tempted to crawl into his lap and repay him for his generosity in a different sort of way. Instead, Nesta remained perfectly still while Cassian wrapped up her ankle with a beige colored bandage and pressed a bag of frozen green beans against the aching bone.
“Keep this elevated,” he insisted, taking a spot close enough that Nesta could have scooted forward and put her head in his lap. She was far too tempted.
“Want to watch something?” she suggested. “Or are you busy?”
“Not too busy for you,” he teased, reaching for the remote. “How do you feel about history?”
Their eyes met, and in unison, they said, “Ancient Aliens.”
Cassian smiled with satisfaction. “Fuck yeah.”
They wasted the afternoon that way. Nesta inched closer and closer until her head was propped up against his thigh. Cassian kept his arm casual against the back of the couch, unconcerned as they giggled their way through each new show. He didn’t stop until the sun dipped low, bathing the room in shadow.
“Want to help me make dinner?” he asked, his voice gruffer than before. She looked up at him.
“No eating out?”
His lips curved into a sly smile. “Are you asking to be eaten out?”
She smacked at his stomach, heart racing all the same. “You don’t seem like the cooking type. Isn’t that something for your little wife?”
“Are you offerin’?” he joked. “I accept. C’mon, lazy bones. At least come talk to me.”
“Does anything bother you?” Nesta asked, unconcerned when Cassian lifted her back into the air. She winced at the jolt of pain lancing through her ankle, though she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like the ease with which he carried her through his house. Cassian was careful, setting her atop a granite kitchen island so she could watch over his attempts at cooking.
“So tell me, Miss Nesta—”
“Just Nesta.”
“Nes,” he grinned. “Miss hot shot attorney. What do you think about my humble home?”
She looked around, pretending to survey with an arched eyebrow. “It’s a little rustic—”
Cassian’s fingers were between her ribs before she could stop him, tickling until she thrashed and gasped for a breath of air.
“Stop it, stop—”
“Rustic,” he chuckled, pulling out a nice creuset pot and setting it atop the range. “You’ll have to work on your insults.”
“I think you just wanted an excuse to touch me,” Nesta replied. Cassian smiled.
“Maybe,” he conceded. “It’s not everyday a beautiful woman is waitin’ for me on the side of the road.”
“I wasn’t waiting. I was stuck.”
He shrugged. “Sure felt like you were waitin’ for me.”
“Maybe you were waiting on me.”
“Almost certainly,” Cassian agreed cheerfully. “Do you eat pasta?”
“I’ll eat anything,” Nesta agreed. Cassian nodded.
“You and me both, sweetheart.”
And God, but Nesta wanted to find out if that was true. Cassian had a box of recipes he’d inherited from his mother that he’d been more than happy to show her. While Nesta pulled the cards out one by one, Cassian made his own tomato sauce. She knew it shouldn’t have impressed her and still it did.
He was nearly done when his cat, Cheddar, slunk into the room. Three black and orange kittens flopped just behind her, the third tumbling face first over the threshold from the hall to the tile. Nesta gasped.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“Where are the other four, mama?” Cassian asked his cat as she wound her way through his legs to rub against him. “What are those little demons up to?”
Nesta carefully hopped off the counter so she could scoop up one of the babies.
“Probably peeing in my boot,” Cassian grumbled, stirring his sauce with a wooden spoon.
“Babies,” Nesta breathed, delighted when the three that had ambled in with their mother immediately bounded towards her. Her favorite, for no reason at all, was the one with the split black and orange face. She had the brightest blue eyes and when Nesta lifted her up to really look at her, the small creature meowed loudly.
“Well now you’ve done it,” Cassian teased as Cheddar trotted over to see what the fuss was. “Be careful–mama cat has claws.”
Nesta scratched behind her ears. “Maybe for you.”
“I suppose like calls to like,” he grumbled. While he plated their food, Nesta played with the kittens until there was a snag in her skirt. Cassian offered Nesta a hand and when he pulled her up to her feet, balancing on one foot, he yanked just hard enough that she fell into his chest.
Into his lips.
“Oh,” she whispered, unsure what to do. Cassian kept her steady with one arm, the kiss polite and chaste and just enough to make her want much, much more.
“Sorry,” he murmured, brushing a strand of her hair off her face. “Probably shouldn’t kiss the woman rentin’ one of my rooms, but…”
“It’s alright,” Nesta assured him, letting him lead her to the blocky table just outside the kitchen. It might have been awkward had Cassian not been so charming. So laid back and nice. He’d made her spaghetti and didn’t care when his cat spent the entirety of the meal winding her lithe, orange body through his feet and purring so loud Nesta felt like she was competing for his attention.
Cassian kept the conversation going as if nothing had happened, but Nesta couldn’t get the feel of his mouth against hers out of her mind. He’d smelled crisp and clean and when her hands had pressed against his chest, he’d been all hard, toned muscle.
“Why don’t I clean up down here, and you can get settled in your room?” Cassian suggested when Nesta had been silent a little too long. She was undressing him in her mind, and when she looked up at him, the little smile on his face made her wonder if he wasn’t aware.
“Sure,” she agreed, if only to get out of helping with the dishes.
“I’ll carry you up,” he added, his eyes flashing. Nesta shook her head, her pride unable to stand being taken up and down the stairs.
“I can do it myself.
“Are you always this difficult?” he asked, rising to his feet. Cassian was a big man. Nesta had never felt small in comparison, had never once looked at a prospective lover and thought herself little. Cassian, though. Cassian exuded strength. In another life, he might have been a warrior prince worshiped by the masses.
Nesta offered him a feline smile. “Maybe.”
Back home, that refusal to yield would have earned her nothing good. With Cassian, though? A slow smile spread over his rugged face.
“Wouldn’t be any fun if you weren’t, I suppose. Go on then, Miss Nesta. Yell if you need me…I’ll come runnin’.”
Nesta suppressed a shiver at his sensual tone. “Is that a promise?”
He looked her up and down, his expression suddenly ravenous. If Nesta had less pride, she might have hopped over to him, pressed her hands to his chest, and let him finish what he’d started.
“It is,” he said simply, those hazel eyes finding her face again.
It was shree will that made her turn. As if she had something to prove. And Nesta made it all of four little hops before Cassian was coming behind her and sweeping her up off her feet. Nesta gasped, unprepared to be so close to him again.
“C’mon,” he murmured, holding her like she was something delicate.
Something fragile.
And no one thought that about her. Nesta swallowed hard, biting back the urge to snap at him. He didn’t know what she was like and maybe that was a blessing, because Nesta didn’t have to put on a show for him. She could press her head against his chest and sigh, “Thank you,” without needing to scowl, to stare him down so he knew not to ever try such a thing again.
“Tell me if I’m wrong,” he drawled softly, taking that first wooden step. “But I’ve got the feelin’ that back home, you’re somethin’ of a ball buster.”
Nesta tightened, her hackles raised. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“No, ma’am,” he chuckled. “It’s just…I’m thinkin’ that most of those men up there don’t know how to act right when it comes to you. And because they can’t make hide or hair of you, they treat you bad. Try and break you, make you small? So you’ve gotta be real tough, don’t you baby?”
Nesta swallowed. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said crisply, careful to enunciate every single syllable which she knew only proved his point.
“That’s what I thought,” he said softly, taking her upstairs. Nesta didn’t want him to let her go. I was a strange thing, to be so seen. To be laid bare by this man she didn’t even know.
“Don’t get mad at me for sayin’ this, but you remind me of Bryaxis—”
“Your horse?”
“He was mistreated too,” Cassian explained. “Screamed at, whipped…you name it, he endured it. But all he needed was a soft hand. A little patience. I figure you probably aren’t too different.”
“Where are you taking me?”
Cassian had opened a bedroom door that absolutely belonged to him. The dark masculine reds and blacks of the bed were a dead giveaway, along with the half-full glass of water on a wood bedside table and a stack of books dog-eared haphazardly. A leather jacket was hung from a chair near the open closet door, and though it was dark, Nesta could see an adjoining bathroom at the far end of the room.
“Where, I think, you want to be tonight. Tell me if I’m wrong—I’ll put you somewhere else.”
“This is your room, Cassian.”
She could see he was trying not to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
Tell him he’s stupid. Tell him he’s wrong. Demand he put you back in your own room and—
“Okay,” she whispered before she could talk herself out of it.
Relief all but crumpled over his features. He murmured something that sounded suspiciously like Thank the good lord, and set her atop his neatly made bedspread.
Nerves shocked through Nesta, rendering her silent for a moment. Cassian, for his part, seemed to have realized that he, too, had her in his bed and didn’t quite know what to make of that.
“I ah…why don’t I wash up the dishes and you can take a shower?”
“That sounds good, Cassian.”
It sounded better than good, and though Nesta swore she wasn’t going to say so, she called, “Unless you think I need help in the shower?”
Cassian froze. For all his bravado, it was obvious he’d never thought he’d get this far. Nesta crawled toward the end of his bed with exaggerated slowness, holding his stare. He took a slow breath, those eyes of his darkening to almost black.
“Is it safe for me alone in there?”
The knot in his throat bobbed. “I reckon it’s not, Miss Nesta—”
“Just Nesta,” she reminded him, rising up on her knees so she could touch the hard planes of his stomach. “Do you think you could call me that, Cassian?”
“I…” his voice trailed off when her fingers found his belt and tugged.
“You know,” Nesta continued with far more bravado than she felt, “I don’t think I’ve properly thanked you for coming to my rescue today.”
“You..” he cleared his throat. “That’s not necessary. I—Nes—”
“That’s better,” she crooned, having undone the button of his jeans. A lump was forming—hard and thick and Nesta was desperate to see what the cowboy had hidden in those black pair of briefs.
“Nes,” he tried again, his hands resting on her shoulder. He wasn’t stopping her, and given the way his fingers curled against her, she thought he was trying very, very hard to be a gentleman.
That wouldn’t do.
“I’d be a poor guest if I didn’t thank you,” she said, slipping past the waistband of his underwear. Nesta gasped when she curled around him—or, tried to. As she pulled Cassian out, she realized she’d need to rethink her plan to thank him with her tongue. Cassian was enormous, both thick and long. Hardly a grower, given he was still stiffening in her curled hand.
Neither of them spoke for a moment, each waiting for the other to do something. Deciding he was erect enough, she pumped him. Her fingers just barely fit around his shaft, and even with two hands she couldn’t have fully covered him. Nesta certainly wasn���t going to be able to fit him all in her throat.
But god she wanted to try.
He exhaled a breath when she stroked him again, earning a chuckle from Nesta. “Tell me how you like it,” she murmured, softening her grip. Nesta had to hope that the cowboy liked it rough, because she wanted him to fuck her within an inch of her life.
“Nice and slow?” she tried, making a sweet pass over that large cock of his.
Cassian shook his head, his dark tresses, whispering against his broad shoulders. What was he like out of control?
“What about this?” she tried, pumping him harder, squeezing tighter. He shook his head again, allowing her to make a third, rougher pass. Nesta twisted her wrist against his head, her nails grazing the sensitive vein trailing his now very erect cock jutting from between two powerful legs.
“That's what I thought,” Nesta murmured, looking up through dark lashes. “Just like me.”
“Nes—”
Nesta silenced him by taking him into her mouth. She had to use her hand to make up the difference and she didn’t care. A soft, strangled noise escaped Cassian as his fingers plunged into her hair.
Yes.
This was what she needed. Nesta took him until she gagged, and then she took a little more, teeth grazing his sensitive skin, hand punishingly tight. Cassian moaned, tugging at her hair. Nesta sucked again, trying so hard to communicate that she could take it. He was holding back, practically shaking from the effort.
Nesta took more of him, widening her jaw in order to accommodate the sheer size of him. That was all it took. Cassian made a rough, snarling sound, pushing her off him.
“You’re a lady,” he panted, reaching for the buttons of his shirt.
Finally.
“And in my house, ladies come first,” he continued, eyes flashing as he shrugged out of that shirt. Nesta swore softly at the sight of all that gleaming, corded muscle. Nesta had never seen someone so effortlessly toned, so big.
Powerful.
“I seem to recall something about eating out,” she said breathlessly, swallowing hard when Cassian prowled toward her.
“I haven’t forgotten, darlin’,” he promised, hovering over her with his unbuttoned jeans and a smile that made Nesta’s heart race. “But first, I think I’m owed a kiss.”
“Just one?” she asked as his lips ghosted over her own.
“Let’s start with one and go from there,” he said, sliding his hand around the back of her head. Nesta had only her ripped dress between them, which provided no protection against Cassian when he pressed the weight of his body against her.
In another life, she might have kissed him nice and slow—teasing it out, exploring him thoroughly. Right then, though, Nesta thought she might explode if she didn’t have his mouth directly on her, his tongue stroking, thrusting, tasting. He was just as excited, grinding himself into her while she pulled at the strands of his hair.
He tasted like snow kissed wind, somehow. Like the crackling of a fire and a frosted window—like some memory she’d long forgotten. Nesta dug her nails down the back of his neck and against his shoulder blades until he bucked into her, wild and nearly unrestrained. Nesta could not remember the last time she’d wanted someone the way she wanted him.
“Off—get this—off,” Cassian panted between messy, hungry kisses. He was pawing at her dress, trying to figure out how to take it off. Nesta arched her back into his chest, earning matching moans from them both as she yanked down the zipper
Nesta would never know how she managed to get that dress off her body given Cassian never stopped his frantic kissing. Nor did she figure out how her bra joined her clothes on the floor. She only realized she was nearly naked when Cassian licked down the column of her neck before burying his face between her breasts.
“Fuck, Nes,” he breathed, both hands covering them entirely—no easy feat, given how large they were. Cassian massaged them, callused thumbs dragging over her aching nipples until Nesta was certain she was making a mess all over his bedding.
His mouth latched around her and Nesta was lost, ripping at his hair as her body bowed off the bed.
“Responsive,” he teased, his tongue tracing around the sensitive bud. “I wonder…”
“Cass—” she gasped when his hand made its way between her legs. Nesta writhed when he began drawing circles on her clit, teasing touches that weren’t even close to what she needed, even as he switched between her breasts, sucking and licking. She could feel it all in her pussy, like every nerve in her body was intimately connected.
She could have come from that—for the first time in god knew how long. At least, without her own hand, without assistance from a toy. Nesta couldn’t recall the last time a man had pleased her so easily, so effortlessly.
Cassian pulled back, wild and impossibly sexy. Holding her gaze, he nipped his way down her body until he found the red pair of panties still clinging to her hips.
“Aw, for me?” he teased, kissing against the fabric. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”
Nesta pushed herself against his face, but Cassian was still licking against the lace.
“I’ll bet you could come just like this. Couldn’t you?”
If he was doing it? Probably. Nesta merely whined, arching when he hooked his fingers into her underwear and peeled them off her.
He whistled softly. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby. Do you know that? I feel sick at the sight of you.”
She didn’t have a chance to respond. Cassian’s tongue slid down the center of her, rendering speech impossible. Nesta reached for something to hold on to, and found his hair for purchase. Cassian groaned, the sound vibrating against her. Her thighs tightened around his face, earning another groan of pleasure.
Cassian’s tongue was everything. She realized, after a lifetime of thinking she was just difficult to get off—too fussy, too particular, too exacting—that what she really needed was someone who knew what they were doing. Cassian had her spread apart, licking and sucking her clit with the sort of expert precision that told Nesta he liked what he was doing.
She regretted not sucking him more. Nesta was going to come apart in record time and she knew she was going to beg him to do this again in a few hours. All weekend.
For fucking ever.
Release was gathering on her spine, burning hotly through her blood until Nesta didn’t recognize the noises coming from her throat. Cassian, too, was rolling his hips into the mattress, trying to alleviate his own arousal. Nesta nearly stopped him, if only to have that long, thick length in her body.
As if he could hear her thoughts, Cassian pushed one of his fingers into her. Nesta tightened around him and Cassian swore at whatever he felt, though he didn’t stop. He fucked and sucked in time, working her like she was an instrument only he knew how to play. Nesta built up, up, up, until she was fucking his hand, rolling all over his face like a wild animal.
Nesta broke apart with a scream she couldn’t control, bucking against him as she shattered into fractals of starlight. Cassian didn’t stop, riding her through wave after wave with clear, obvious excitement. It was only when pleasure became edged with pain that Nesta released the grip her thighs had around his face and Cassian came up for a deep breath of air.
“Fuck,” he said, his lips gleaming from her arousal. “Fuck, Nes—”
“Come here, come here,” she panted, scrabbling for his shoulders. Cassian obliged, kissing her frantically. His tongue was coated in the taste of her, pushed against her own. Nesta liked it, wanted more of him.
“Condom,” he breathed, finally shucking his jeans to trip over to his dresser. Nesta propped herself up on her elbows to watch, admiring his firm ass as he went. Cassian was quick about it, rolling the condom onto his cock with what she swore were shaking hands. His eyes shone, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn Cassian could not believe his good luck.
“You sure?” he asked, hesitating at the end of the bed. Nesta nearly laughed, given she was spread out and still trembling from his mouth. Any other man would have jumped on her, would already be balls deep buried in her.
He was sweet, she decided.
She wanted to keep him, though she had no idea how. She’d figure it out later. “I’m sure.”
“Good,” he said with another heart stopping smile. “I don’t know what I would have done if you’d said no.”
“Sure you do,” she offered in what she hoped was a sultry voice. “You’d have gone into the bathroom and used your hand.”
“That was my plan to start,” he agreed, settling between the cradle of her thighs. “But this is much better. Have I said how pretty you are?”
“Once, at least.”
“Well.” He pushed himself an inch or so into her. Nesta gasped loudly. “You’re fuckin’ beautiful, darlin’.”
He’d punched all the air from her lungs. Nesta didn’t think she’d ever been stretched against anything half as large as Cassian. It was the sweetest pain that, with each shallow stroke inching him in deeper, became wholly pleasure. By the time Cassian had fully seated himself within her, a bead of sweat was trailing down his temple from the effort it took to go slow.
“Good?”
“Good,” she agreed, gripping the back of his neck for a kiss. “Cass?”
He hummed in response.
“I’m not fragile. You can fuck me, if you like.”
Cassian pulled himself out before snapping his hips so hard the headboard above them rattled. “Like that?” he grunted.
“Yes—yes, Cassian—”
He did it again, groaning loudly when she tightened involuntarily around him. This was Cassian unrestrained, his hair wild around his rugged, handsome face. His muscles bunched and shifted from the effort, held over her just enough that she could incline her had and watch his cock slide in and out of her body.
He wasn’t finished, and Nesta already wanted to have him again.
And again.
Cassian reached for her knees, bending them up by her shoulders to drive himself deeper. Nesta moaned, eyes rolling up into her head. The balls of her feet were pressed to his chest pushing him with each slide out, only for him to return with twice as much force. When she’d said she’d wanted it rough, well…this was exactly what she meant.
“Nes, fuck—” he panted, eyes rolling up into his head as she came on his cock. Nesta arched hard, every muscle in her body going taut all at once. She clamped around him and Cassian came too, clearly unbidden and unprepared for the force of his own release. She wanted to drown herself in the noises he made, in the frantic thrusting of his body driving himself deeper on instinct.
Cassian collapsed on top of her, dropping Nesta’s legs carelessly. She hissed when her bruised ankle hit the bed.
“Sorry,” he whispered, lips against her jaw. “And I’m not, at the same time. Nesta, I…”
“I know,” she agreed, because she was certain they were thinking the same thing. Something else had happened between them, something they couldn’t so easily walk away from.
“We’ll figure it out,” he said, perhaps guessing those words were never going to come easy to Nesta. “I can hear you worryin’. Baby, you don’t have to worry about me.”
Nesta brushed her fingertips against the rough stubble of his face. “Promise?”
Cassian grinned. “I promise.”
#nessian#nesta archeron#cassian#bryaxis#i mean bryaxis IS a horse but still#a good boy#montana!cassian#dustjacket you better LOVE this
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Rhysand: Where did all my wine go?
Feyre: I don’t know.
Rhysand: *looks at Cassian*
Cassian: Don’t look at me! I didn’t touch any of your wine!
Rhysand: *looks at Mor*
Mor: I had one glass.
Rhysand: *looks at Nesta*
Nesta: *glares* I obviously didn’t have any. You put a code on the wine cellar door so I wouldn’t get in.
Rhysand: *looks at Amren*
Amren: That is not my drink of choice.
Rhysand: *looks at Azriel*
Azriel: *shakes head* It wasn’t me.
Rhysand: *looks at Elain*
Elain: Not me.
Rhysand: Well then who took my wine!
*Bryaxis appearing from the kitchen*
Bryaxis: You give me no window, I take your wine.
Cassian: *screams*
#acotar#acotar memes#rhysand#feyre archeron#cassian#mor acotar#nesta archeron#amren acotar#azriel#elain archeron#bryaxis#acomaf#acowar#acofas#acosf
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#bryaxis#cassian#cassian&bryaxis#His neck SNAPPED when he heard it coming#acotar meme#acotar funny#acowar
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acotar x tog things i love to imagine pt. 2
yeah i’ve decided to make this a series ig
i imagine feyre befriending abraxos, we know my girl has a tendency of becoming friends with the most strange creatures in the world so…i can just picture it 😭 then manon being like wtf and nesta telling her lol “yeah she kinda does that, you should see the friend she made down the library” and cassian being like “DO NOT SPEAK HIS NAME” and that’ll just be the beginning of a chaotic relationship 😭😭
#idk what’s up in my brain sometimes honestly#acotar x tog#feyre#manon#manon blackbeak#pro feyre archeron#feyre archeron#nesta#nesta archeron#manon and nesta#cassian#bryaxis#abraxos#manon and abraxos#a court of thorns and roses#throne of glass
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Happy Crackship Friday to Cassian and Bryaxis 🥲🥲
NSFW version is up on my Patreon 💖
#Cassian#Bryaxis#art#digital art#fan art#acotar#acomaf#acowar#sarah j maas#my art#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#Nessian#crackships#books#book art
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She just wants more tattoos
Not mine
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The Monster Bed
Cassian x Reader
Summary: You're enjoying your mate's presence after he just came back from a two days mission with Azriel, until an intruder makes its way into the bed.
Warnings: Spiders? Spiders.
A/N: This is chaos, pure chaos. But hey, it's Cassian. We wouldn't expect less from our dramatic General now, would we? 😌💕
The nights were starting to get cooler in Velaris at the approach of Solstice. You were tucked tightly in bed, trying to keep your body warm without your favorite bat boy.
You had managed to fall into a light sleep after a while, until you heard familiar footsteps quietly making their way to the connected bathroom of your chamber. You smile through your sleep at the general failed attempt to be discreet with his big-ass boots reaching his destination. The distant sound of the shower running made you lull back into your slumber.
You purr when you feel the mattress shift behind your back, and feel a strong pair of arms wrapping around your body, heating it up instantly. You feel your mate gently kissing the back of your neck, his large hands traveling on your skin to caress the curves of your body. “Mh… Welcome home, General…” You grin and slowly turn your head to look at him through half opened eyes. You scan his face and body quickly, making sure he hadn't been too injured in his recent mission. He kisses your lips and groans in content at the feeling of you in his arms, enjoying the feeling of finally getting home, in their bed, with you laying at his side.
Him and Azriel had been away on a mission for only two days. Those two days, he had slept on a mat without anyone to cuddle, since Az strictly refused to act as his body pillow. Cassian had missed you so much that these two days had felt like years- no, decades to him. “Did you miss me, princess?” He wiggles his eyebrows playfully and trails a path of kisses on her neck, taking a big sniff of her sweet vanilla scent. Cassian loved your scent so much that he could bath himself in without any shame about his brother teasing.
Your mate's usual playful and flirty behavior makes a tired chuckle fall from your lips. You caress his hair gently, too tired to scold him on the fact that he should have dried them before getting into bed, especially with the cold weather that pierced through the wall of the House of the Wind. “Mh… I did. It felt weird to fall asleep without anyone snatching the sheets off of me in their sleep...”
He giggles against your neck at your teasing response and gently starts nipping at the skin of your neck when the scent of your arousal starts to fill the bedroom. He moved his kisses to your collarbone, making you roll on your back with the palm of his hand. You bury your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, but as he rolls you on your back, something cold brushes against your leg. Something cold and… fuzzy. Cassian halts everything he was doing when he feels you suddenly flinch, and he frowns, worried. He lifts his face off your neck to look into your eyes and ask softly. “You're okay, princess?” You try to move your leg slightly, checking if maybe you had imagined that weird feeling. But the thing seemed to climb up your leg at the movement. You squeak and stand up straight on the bed, Cassian doing the same without even knowing why he was panicking too.
“What?! WHAT?!” Cassian eyes are wide as he's up on the bed, holding you close to him and watching the duvet as if a monster was about to come from underneath it. The two of you were screaming like idiots, standing up on the bed, Cassian holding you close without even knowing what they were scared of. The door of your bedroom slams open as the both of you are still screaming and squealing in panic. “What the fuck is happening?! Are you naked?!” Azriel asks from the bedroom door, his eyes covered as his shadows rush to the bed and tangle with the sheets to figure out what was happening.
“NO! SOMETHING TOUCHED MY LEG!” Cassian screams even louder, not a manly scream, a high-pitched squeal. “IT’S BRYAXIS!” “SHUT UP CASS! IT FELT LIKE A SPIDER.” You say as you jump into your mate’s arms, making him almost lose his balance and fall off the mattress. Az opens his eyes and scans the room, but his shadows are quick to report the bed intruder. He snickers and pulls off a pillow from under the duvet. He brushes the cold zipper of the pillow against your leg, and you shiver, cheeks reddening.
“Well, guess I found the intruder… My job’s done now. Good night.” Azriel snickers as he heads out of the bedroom quietly. You shyly move down from Cassian's arms, and you both lay back in bed, in silence. An awkward lapse of time passes as the both of you stare at the ceiling, your faces burning red in shame to have disturbed the shadow singer for something as stupid as a pillow zipper brushing against your leg. “No more zippers in the bed.” He finally breaks the silence and turns around to spoon you close to him, taking a deep breath to calm himself down. You simply nod your head, wiggling closer to him. “Yeah…”
He kisses the top of your head and strokes your arm as he starts to drift to sleep. He hears you chuckle, so he groans. “What.” “You thought it was Bryaxis? Seriously, Cass?” He nuzzles his nose into the back of your neck and growls in annoyance. “Shut up… sleep.” You smile and bite your lip, trying not to burst into laughter about how scared the General was of Bryaxis… “Alright, good night Cass, love you.” He smiles and whispers, his voice full of love. “Love you too princess…”
☆•☆•☆•☆
Bryaxis had almost peed on himself from laughing too much when you told him about you and your mate's eventful night the next morning. Bryaxis's ego was inflating when you told him how scared the General still was of the beast even after all these years.
A/N (again lol): I forgot to mention: Based on true events... 🫣
#acotar#fiction#fluff#light angst#my fic#acosaf#x reader#acotar fandom#cassian x y/n#x y/n#cassian x you#cassian acotar#cassian acomaf#cassian#cassian x reader#general cassian#writing#bryaxis
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A new Bryaxis adventure for the holidays!
Next: Cassian and his life coach head over to the Sidra, keeping this mission a secret from the others 💖
#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#acotar fanart#nesta archeron#acosf#feyre archeron#cassian acotar#Bryaxis#rhysand
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Cassian as a girl dad, headcanons…
Warnings - devastation of war mentioned, adoption (can be a more touchy subject for some)
When he learns he is having a girl who is OVERJOYED. He wasn't against a boy, but the general also remembers what he was like when he was young.
Once the initial burst of joy fades away he's freaking out. The home isn't kid-proof, what if he messes this up––he's been a fighter his whole life, i don't know how to do hair... how will he raise a kid as a general, i need time off...
Then there's deciding what type of dad Cassian wants to be.
First few weeks he rambles about his options as you both fall asleep, his head on your chest, fingers tracing shapes over your stomach.
Does he want his daughter running around with a sword beating up stupid Illyrian morons, or taking dance classes and painting his nails.
'Cassian, baby,' you ask your mate.
Of course, then again why can't the general be both; nails-painted, hair-braided, dance-class-taking, teach-my-daughter-to-fight, dad...
Cassian spends the next few months learning how to braid hair, cut hair, make buns, ponytails, something twists. But of course if his daughter wants short hair that's okay too...
So what if he is the butt of some jokes from Az and Rhys
The paperwork is the most annoying part. Your patience was always so much greater than his. He was a fighter, not a paper-work doer.
It was all the more complicated considering adoption wasn't exactly common in Prythian, a newer idea many Fae didn't consider.
The added consideration of the devastation from the war against Hybern then dealing with Koschei made for quite a number of babies and children left without families and you couldn't handle that.
It was a bit of a new precedent but one the High Lord and Lady helped guide Cassian and his mate through it all.
The day you finally get to take your daughter home it's a pile of nerves and joy. She has little with her, only a stuffed animal dragon with pig tails and a dress.
Nothing compares to this feeling. Only the snap of the mating bond could be considered comparable. A two-year-old girl with big eyes and tightly tucked wings could bring Cassian to his knees in an instant.
The General of the Night Court, Lord of Bloodshed, undone.
She looks up at him as you pick up your new daughter. You introduce yourself, pointing to Cassian. 'Dada,' you coo.
She keeps staring at Cassian who takes the young girl into his arms, sobbing.
'I would burn the world to the ground for you,' he thinks.
She turns in her father's arms to stare at you holding out the dragon. 'Azwiel,' she says pointing to the dragon stuffed animal.
Cassian later learns that's because Azriel was cool when he flew. Naturally, Azriel is the one to teach her to fly.
You stifle a laugh, Cassian just keeps sobbing.
It takes her a few months to adjust to her new home, but has little trouble exploring.
One night when you and Cassian are both asleep you see her toddle into the room with a giggle. 'Can my fwend bwysis sleep with us,' she asks innocently.
You start shaking with laughter.
Cassian realizes, in that moment, he is way out of his depth.
#cassian x reader#cassian x gneutral!reader#gender neutral reader#cassian x you#cassian acotar#reader#x reader#bryaxis#the kid names a dragon after azriel
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Another Plot Twist:
Bryaxis has been living in Azriel's shadows this whole time.
Azriel knows.
During meetings, Shadow Bryaxis likes to sit on Cassian's shoulder and plays with his hair. Sometimes, he pulls the leather string out of the man bun.
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