#rancher!cassian

[azsazz]

In Storm

Rancher!Cassian x Reader

Summary: You want a baby and Cassian looks all too good in his flannel.

Warnings: Conversation about having a baby.

Word Count: 1,098

Notes: The Cassian era is era-inggg

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Rainy mornings are your favorite.

The sky cracking open and letting her feelings loose means that you get to sleep in, that your husband’s warm body holds you tightly as rain patters the windows in pretty songs. It means gentle calloused hands roaming your curves, soft breaths as he mouths against your skin. It means a slow and sensual fucking with a steaming hot bath following, where you can lean back into the comfort of Cassian and rest the day away.

But rainy mornings are not his favorite.

You find your husband standing in front of the large windows of the living room, staring out into the expanse of land you get to call yours. Yesterday’s flannel hangs loose around his broad shoulders, unbuttoned from when he’d hastily thrown it on to examine the conditions of the farm under the onslaught of rain. His hair is tousled, not yet thrown up into a haphazard bun the way he does when he works up a sweat from milking the cows or fixing the fence. His feet are bare, just as yours are, the hardwood flooring holding a chilled bite to it as you near his side.

Stepping up next to Cassian, you gaze out the window as well. The weather hadn’t called for a storm but the springtime is unpredictable. The horses graze in the pasture, seemingly unaffected by the drizzling skies. Their coats are dark with water but they’re getting on with their days as if the sun is shining brightly. 

Lightning cracks the sky and Cassian grunts, displeased. You can see it in the downwards slope of his mouth that he’s unhappy with the fact that he hadn’t brought the animals in yesterday, when he knew he smelled the metallic tang of a storm creeping in.

“They’re animals,” you try to soothe, “They should be used to it.”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about the stallions,” Cassian responds, not even sparing you a glance as he stares at the horses. “But my mares shouldn’t be out in this storm. Especially not Carrington. Ol’ girl can have that foal anytime now and she’s only out in the rain because you were adamant she needed ‘fresh air.’” His voice pitches at the end in a terrible impersonation of you and you scowl.

“So now it’s my fault?” you ask, incredulously. Cassian lets you sidle up to his side anyway, slipping between the opening of his flannel and his bare chest. You nearly growl with delight because he’s so warm. Turning your head, you press your lips to his pec. “You’re grumpy when it rains.”

“‘M grumpy because there’s chores that need to be done,” Cassian sighs, wrapping an arm around your waist. “I should go out there.” 

Out there looks miserable. The trail leading up to the barn is muddy, puddles of rain scattering the path. The rain has kept its steady pour since you’d come down here to find your husband, and if you think he’s grumpy now, you know he’d be absolutely miserable after working out in the rain all day.

“Or, you can stay in here and we can spend a little time together,” you drawl, trailing your fingers along his chest. His muscles clench the closer to his waistline that you get. 

His hazel gaze cuts down to yours, “Last night wasn’t enough for you?” Cassian muses, eyes sparkling in the way that you know you have him. 

“Won’t be enough for me until I look like your best girl Carrington out there, nice and full with child.” 

Cassian’s fingers still from where they’re tracing patterns on your hip. “You really want one, don’t you?” He asks softly.

You shrug. It hasn’t been something you’ve talked about much, a child. Cassian is busy running the ranch and ever since Rhysand and Feyre moved closer to the hustle and bustle of the city to raise Nyx, you haven’t had anyone to really talk to besides the mares. And they just whinny and snort at everything you say. 

“It would mean extra hands around the farm,” you try to play off, cheeks heating. You slide from his side, eager to dispel the conversation your husband surely doesn’t want to have at this very moment. Not while Carrington is getting rained on, Gods forbid. “What do you want for breakfast? Pancakes? An omelet? I just gathered the eggs yesterday morning so they’ll be nice and fresh.”

“Hey,” Cassian calls gently, snagging your hand as you try to dip away. He tugs you back to his chest, bushing some of your sleep mussed hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear so he can caress your cheek. His hazel eyes search yours, and the frown tugging his lips downward makes your heart ache. “Don’t walk away from me, sweetheart. You want a baby?”

Your eyes well with tears the longer he stares at you. His brows are pulled tight as he waits patiently for your response. The emotion in your throat is thick, but you nod, voice coming out raspy with it when you answer. “More than anything.” 

Cassian nods a little, taking in your answer. His throat bobs but he’s agreeing, nodding firmer. “Then let’s have one.” 

Your entire body locks up at his words. You didn’t think it would be so easy to convince him. All you had to do all of this time was ask? Surely, that is not the case.

But Cassian would be so wonderful with a child in his arms. He’d love them just as perfectly as he loves you, as he cares for the animals of his ranch. You’ve seen him with the foals and chicks and lambs. How he holds each one with care and parades them around the ranch, kissing their little heads and talking to them in soft voices. He’s made to be a father, even if he doesn’t know it himself.

“We’re trying to have a baby,” you breathe, clutching onto him. An all-consuming feeling rushes through your body, nerves perhaps, because holy shit, you and Cassian are going to try for a baby. “We’re trying for a baby!”

Cassian grins, mirroring your excitement. He pulls you into his arms and you lock your legs around his waist immediately, diving down to capture his mouth against yours. The kiss is exhilarating, hot and sensual as they both of you settle into the feeling that maybe this time next year, it could be you giving birth instead of Carrington.

You could not be more excited for the adventure you and your husband are about to embark on.

[azsazz]

Thinking of rancher cass 🤠

Oh you mean grumpy Rancher Cassian who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman for years?

Rancher Cassian who drives his beat old pickup into town one last time before the storms set in for the winter and he’ll be unable to make it into town until the snow melts in spring? The rusted out truck with over 300,000 miles on it? It was his fathers and as long as it runs he’ll drive it.

That’s how Rancher Cassian is. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. The shutter is hanging on by one bolt? He’ll wait until it falls off because there’s too much for him to do around the ranch. The chair has a crooked leg? He’ll sit in it until it collapses under his weight, then, out of spite, he’ll eat his dinners leaning up against the counter as he glares at said chair, sitting broken on the floor.

Rancher Cassian who is at the mercantile, freshening his supplies for the winter. Maybe he grabs a candy bar and shoves it under the pile of things he carries to the register because god forbid someone sees him with a colorful candy bar in his hands. He nods to the women who greet him and shakes the hands of the men who know him, trying to joke with the grumpy rancher about how maybe they’ll see one of his purebreds up in the state rodeo come summer.

Rancher Cassian who’s not one for conversation. Ignores the women who tend to leer without knowing, staring at the jeans that fit tightly around his muscular thighs, the stretch of his flannel across his broad shoulders, the large boot prints from his brown, worn cowboy boots on the dusty road he leaves behind, the always fresh looking cowboy hat that sits atop his flowing hair that he hasn’t bothered to get around to cutting. He’s sure he’ll find the time when he’s snowed up on the farm, between braving the winter storms to check his herd and whatever else needs tending. He doesn’t care about anything more than he cares about his mares.

Rancher Cassian who hears an unladylike curse coming from up the street, where you stand, arms crossed over your chest and accentuating your breasts as you glare at the car that’s decided to break down on you without warning.

Rancher Cassian who tosses his things into the bed of his truck before approaching you like you’re a wild stallion he’s trying to rope down. Your eyes are red with frustrated, unshed tears, and normally the emotion would scare him away, have him jumping into his truck to get back to his ranch, but you’re too gorgeous not to.

You’re not from around here, and Cassian knows this not because he knows everyone in the small town he’s never left in his life, but because of the clothing you wear. Where did you come from, wearing that of all things? 

Rancher Cassian who tips his hat and asks, “Do you need help here, ma’am?” He watches the way your eyebrows pull together and your lip lifting in a grimace. 

Your eyes rake hot lines down his body, branding him like he does his horses, a hot iron red with heat against his heart, and he’s gone before he ever really knows it. 

“(Y/N),” you respond flatly, piercing eyes snapping back up to meet his. “Not ma’am. (Y/N).”

His eyes narrow a little but he doesn’t respond, tight-lipped and waiting for your answer to his question. 

You wait him out, a stubborn little thing you are. He reckons he could pull you right up into his chest and swallow you whole, that’s how small you are compared to himself. But there’s that fire in your eyes, you don’t want to relent, but the sun is quickly setting in the sky and the brusque breeze turns colder, causing you to shiver.

“Yes, please.” 

Rancher Cassian who looks at your car and tells you the bad news. “Part will take weeks to get here, but I can let the repairman in town know. He can get your car towed over there tonight. I’d suggest checking out the inn at the edge of town. It’s not much, but there’s a storm coming in and you’re going to want to have a place to stay.”

You groan like you cannot believe your luck, and he gets it. No one wants to stay in the bum fuck of nowhere in the small town that houses barely over a hundred people. Cassian doesn’t mind the seclusion, though, up on his ranch with his horses and the beauty of the nature surrounding it, it’s serene. 

He doesn’t know why he does it, if it’s the tears lining your eyes or your defeated posture, but he offers up his own truck. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you where you need to go,” he promises. “I just need a ride up to my ranch and you can bring it back when your car is fixed.” He doesn’t say that he knows it’s going to snow badly soon, or that you’ll be unable to return it to him before the snow melts. 

You really look like you could cry now, with how nice he is. It makes him uncomfortable, shifting on his feet as you hastily wipe your eyes, accepting his offer with a thanks that is so sincere it makes him question what you’re running from. 

Of course, by the time he helps you get the car towed to the auto shop and he’s pulling into the drive, the snow is coming down in droves. The both of you race into his house as the storm rages on. Cassian shows you to his spare room and sets you up there, then goes to start a fire in the fireplace. 

Come morning the snow still hasn’t stopped and it’s so thick he can hardly make out the barn from the kitchen window, but there are chores to be done and you haven’t shown your face yet for breakfast, so he leaves the coffee pot on and bundles up, heading outside.

He knows that he should’ve forced you to stay at the hotel in town. He should’ve told you about the storms and how there’s no way you’ll be able to make your way back into town in these conditions. He’s an asshole for keeping quiet, but there’s a selfish part of him that wants to keep you trapped up here with him, so that he can get to know you.

i love rancher cassian gdamn