Title: A Blasting of the Nerves Rating: NC-17 Pairing: Cassandra Vablasky/Gellert Grindelwald (Novus-verse) Summary: Albus is missing. Cassandra and Gellert need to find him. Word count: 670 Disclaimer: Not mine. Prompt: breathplay
Albus has been missing for two hours. Cassandra has felt the strain of every moment of them. She is distraught. She paces, wringing her hands. All servants have been sent away, and her room is in shambles. She cannot See, no matter how hard she tries. Everything is blurred and disjointed, her gift blunted by her own emotions. She knows everything that could potentially happen during two hours. But she does not know what actually has happened in the two hours that passed — nor what awaits them.
It comes as little surprise when Gellert storms through the door, not bothering to knock. He has just returned from some country far away, the news delivered to him as quickly as possible. He is still in uniform. It is a wonder he just did not Apparate into her quarters. He stalks toward her and grabs up each other of her shoulders in his hands, all but throwing her against the wall.
She does not bother to flinch, although, for the first time in a very long time, she is frightened. She does not know if the fear stems from not knowing where Albus is or the possibility of what Gellert will do to her if she does not find him. She, herself, does not know what she didn’t See this beforehand. Her Sight is not perfect. She is still learning to root out what is important. Despite Gellert’s wishes, she cannot See everything. But this is far too important to have missed. She should have seen it weeks ago.
“Where is he?” Gellert’s question is terse.
Before she is even able to answer, he is moving, perhaps already seeing the answer written plainly on her face. He pushes off the elaborate white robe that she is wearing and it crumples to the floor next to them. Cassandra is not exactly startled by this, but she does take a deep breath.
There are many things that can be done to alter her powers. Opium widens her range of sight. Touch intensifies a vision, focuses it on the particular person’s future. As she has said time and time again, Gellert and Albus are intertwined in every version of every future.
Her sharp inhale does not go beyond Gellert’s notice though. His eyes flash at her. He raises up one of his arms and presses his forearm against her throat, applying too much pressure. She cannot get a full breath and fights the urge to struggle underneath the pressure.
“You won’t forget that the air you breathe is a gift from us,” Gellert says, voice low. “If he disappears, so what will that gift.”
Even when he finished speaking, the pressure on her windpipe didn’t relent. Her body jerked a little underneath his on mere instinct. His other hand ventured downward, beginning to ruck up the skirt of her dress. He touched as much of her as he could, his fingers exploring, the touch anything but gentle. She knew that this had nothing to do with pleasure. It was about necessity. It was about Albus.
Spots began to dance in front of her vision. Cassandra’s lungs ached for oxygen even as Gellert thrust two fingers inside of her. She was barely aware of what he was doing, the touch a secondary thing. Her body reacted in an automatic fashion, the sensation almost dulled. He pumped them in an even rhythm. Her hips moved in an automatic fashion, matching the press and push of his fingers. The heat flushed her all the way through, clearing her mind of emotion and worry.
One of her hands scrambled upwards. Her fingers wrapped around Gellert’s wrist, creating another point of contact. He barely seemed to falter. He added a third finger and the additional friction and pressure was enough to push her into an orgasm that never reached her mind. Her vision flared white with it, her chest shuddering as she was unable to breathe. Gellert disappeared from in front of her—and instead she Saw Albus miles away.